A grave, aged voice sounded from beyond the iron gates. It was a special intonation drawn out with length, the peculiar accent unique to the people of the capital city—elvish.,Haina stood at the door, lost in thought, a strange sourness filling her heart.,The feel of soft carpet beneath her feet startled her, causing her to look up and wonder if she should remove her shoes—but the old sprite's calm demeanor left her unsure. So, with a nervous heart, she followed behind, feeling the sudden warmth of the hearth against the chill of winter.。