Thalorin returned to the house a few minutes later, his heavy boots thudding softly against the wooden floor as he stepped inside.
He pulled out a chair and sat down with a quiet sigh, rolling his shoulders to shake off the stiffness from the air.
After finishing their al, Thalorin and Lyriel exchanged a quick glance before standing up from the table.
Their movents were hurried but not frantic, just the quiet urgency of people who knew they were running late yet still wanted to savor the last monts of a peaceful morning.
Lyriel brushed the crumbs from her dress, tucking a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear. "We should hurry," she murmured, already stepping away from the table. "We’re late as it is."
Alex sat at the dining table with Syrla, still adjusting to the reality of his new life in the elven world.
The morning light filtered through the arched windows, casting soft golden hues across the wooden table where their breakfast plates lay nearly empty.
The air carried a faint scent of herbs and freshly baked bread, but Alex was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice.
"So, what now?" he asked, leaning back slightly in his chair.
Syrla’s eyes sparkled with excitent as she set down her cup. "Now that you’ve been permitted to stay in the elven world, we can finally go out and explore!"
Her voice was light and full of joy, a stark contrast to the uncertainty Alex still felt.
"Go get dressed up, and I’ll do the sa," she said, already pushing back her chair. "Then we’ll go sightseeing, and I know the perfect place to start!"
As he turned toward his room to change, he couldn’t help but feel a small spark of excitent himself.
Alex suddenly stopped in his tracks, turning back to face Syrla with a curious expression.
"Where exactly is this place?" he asked, folding his arms.
Syrla grinned, her green eyes twinkling with excitent. "The market, of course!"
Alex blinked. "Right," he murmured, not entirely convinced, before turning and heading up the stairs to his temporary room.
As he climbed, he couldn’t help but wonder why the market, of all places, was Syrla’s idea of the perfect spot for sightseeing. Markets were loud, crowded, and usually full of haggling rchants—not exactly the kind of place he imagined for his first real tour of the elven world.
Alex stepped into the shower, and the mont the warm water cascaded over him, all thoughts lted away.
The gentle pressure of the stream washed over his shoulders, easing the lingering tension he hadn’t even realized he was carrying.
The scent of herbal soap filled the air—sothing light and earthy, unfamiliar yet soothing.
He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as the water ran through his hair and down his back.
It was a small luxury, but one he hadn’t fully appreciated until now.
The past few days had been overwhelming—adjusting to this new world, trying to understand its customs, and now preparing for whatever adventure Syrla had in store for him.
But in this mont, none of that mattered.
For now, there was just warmth, comfort, and the steady rhythm of water against his skin.
He stayed there longer than he probably should have, but eventually, with a sigh, he reached for the soap and began washing up.
Eventually, Alex turned off the water and stepped out, the cool air of the room making him shiver slightly.
He reached for a towel, drying himself off before running his fingers through his damp hair.
As he did, his eyes landed on the bed, where a fresh set of clothes had been neatly laid out for him.
A green top with matching green pants.
Alex grimaced as he stared at the clothes laid out before him.
The green top itself wasn’t bad—it was a deep, rich shade, almost like the color of the forest at dusk.
But the sleeves were long, and at the ends were the most ridiculous, oversized yellow cuffs he had ever seen.
They flared out slightly, drawing far too much attention to his wrists.
"Why do elves like such bright and ridiculous colors?" he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. He had noticed it before, robes embroidered with shimring gold, tunics in shades of orange and teal, cloaks that practically glowed in the sunlight. Subtlety didn’t seem to be a priority in elven fashion.
Sighing, he picked up the outfit and turned it over in his hands, hoping to find so redeeming quality.
The fabric was soft, almost weightless, yet it felt incredibly strong.
Still. The cuffs.
Alex shook his head but resigned himself to the inevitable.
He had no other choice unless he wanted to show up in yesterday’s clothes, which probably wouldn’t go over well in a world where elegance seed to be expected.
With a final look of reluctant acceptance, he pulled the top over his head and fastened the pants, adjusting them to fit comfortably.
He exhaled and ran a hand through his damp hair before stepping back to look at himself in the mirror.
"Great," he muttered dryly. "Now I look like a walking festival banner."
As he was done, he shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "The market, huh? This should be interesting."
By the ti Alex was dressed, Syrla was still nowhere to be seen. He let out a small sigh, but in all honesty, he wasn’t surprised.
If female elves were anything like human won, then she was probably still preening and pruning herself, adjusting her hair a hundred tis, making sure her outfit was just right.
Maybe even adding so kind of elven accessories that served no real purpose other than to look fancy.
Alex smirked to himself as he leaned against the doorfra, crossing his arms. "Figures," he muttered.
Alex made his way downstairs, his footsteps light against the polished wooden floor.
The house was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the trees outside.
Sunlight still filtered through the large windows, casting soft golden patches on the floor, but Alex hardly noticed as he sank into one of the couches in the living room.
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