Somewhere in the early afternoon, Licht, Aquaflora, and I made our way to the capital city to see the streets with our own eyes.

We were never explicitly forbidden from exploring, but I had refrained from doing so earlier to avoid giving the impression that we were spies scouting the area. Not that I thought our host would think that, but caution seemed prudent. Now, however, I felt comfortable enough to indulge in a bit of tourism.

And damn it was worth it, the sight was absolutely mesmerizing. The architecture wasunlike anything I had seen before. I had seen elven villages before, and had also once visited another elven capital and they were a completely different experience than the one we were experiencing right now. Just like they are between one another, Elven architecture is truly something unique compared to that of humans in the Land of Men.

I know better than to lump all elven styles together, but so far, out of all the elven settlements I’ve seen—including Umbryan ones, Argyrian ones, and Ferron ones that I once had the honor of visiting the capital of—there is something undeniably distinct about elven designs, despite their differences from one another. They are all, without exception, very different from the human architecture I am used to.

The city around us was predominantly made of wood, often with darker tones that seemed almost black, giving the entire area a subtle, cohesive appearance. The roofs were sometimes green or a rusty orange, lending a beautiful contrast against the wooden structures, while the vibrant colors of the environment—the blossoming trees and lush greenery—brought life to the city.

The layout was fascinating, with tiered structures and winding walkways, reminiscent of something growing naturally rather than built by hand. Buildings were not stacked beside one another as in many crowded human cities but spread out gracefully, providing ample space between them. Every corner seemed to respect nature, blending rather than imposing upon it.

Elven society, as I’d come to learn, is almost always centered around a single capital. Unlike the Lands of Men, where towns and cities are scattered, the elven people believe in building and living collectively within a vast capital, which serves as their home and stronghold. Sure, there are small settlements like the elven villages I had visited before, but for the "true" elves, such villages are seen as pariahs. "True" elves, they say, are meant to live in the capital, under the protection of the Ancestral Tree—the sacred tree that stands as a sigil of the Patriarch. This tree provides a magical barrier that wards off monsters and invaders, making the capital nearly impenetrable.

That's the reason why when we approached the capital, we had to stop before the large magical tree. We wouldn’t be able to pass through unless permitted by the Patriarch himself.

From a human perspective, it might seem impossible for an entire elven family—essentially a nation in its own right—to live in a single place without facing overcrowding. The capital, an undeniably vast monocentric megalopolis, defied such expectations. This was possible because the city was expansive, with ample space within the protective domain of the Ancestral Tree. This allowed the elven people to expand comfortably without needing to crowd or stack their homes. Though subtle, the architecture clearly favored multifloored wooden housing, and there was an unmistakable obsession with height in this capital. The most opulent structures were always the tallest, yet none could compare to the Patriarch's palace, which towered over the city, visible even from the southern corner where we were staying.

The estate we were guests in was quite tall in its own right and belonged to an elf who held a position akin to that of a king under the Patriarch. Since each elven monarch has a unique title for such individuals, I simply refer to them as elders as more often than not, they are the oldest-looking elves around.

***

After roaming for a while, we found ourselves walking through a mercantile corner of the capital, moving under the watchful gaze of Umbryan elves. Wanting to blend in we naturally dressed in outfit that wouldn't get us excluded. Licht is wearing a layered robe consisting of a dark inner layer and a lighter, textured outer layer. The outer robe has wide sleeves and hangs loosely over the shoulders. A fabric sash secures the outfit at the waist, keeping it functional without adding unnecessary ornamentation.

Aquaflora’s clothing includes a layered garment with a wide sash tied at the waist. The outer fabric has a floral pattern covering most of its surface, and the colors shift between cream, pink, and teal. The sleeves are long and wide, with the ends draping past her arms. The outfit appears decorative but structured, likely intended for formal or semi-formal occasions.

As for me, I’m wearing a multi-layered outfit with an upper layer in cream and a lower layer in teal. The sleeves are long and open, extending outward when I move my arms. The waist is cinched with a sash, keeping the garment in place. Embroidery, mostly in the form of plant patterns, decorates the fabric in specific areas. The hem of the skirt is loose, designed to allow free movement. Nothing about it feels excessive, though it’s clearly made to stand out compared to simple attire. But well if one looked around we based on the outfit alone fit in but I guess the outfit don't matter when your face is literally a beacon.

Yep, that's a thing, we didn't look like the local, and because we stood out like sore thumb despite the effort put in the outfit department.

Umbryan elves are easily recognized not only by their characteristically long, pointed ears, but also by their uniformly straight, black hair—a feature they share with both Solvan elves. In our old world, this combination of traits was often associated with the peoples of the far eastern regions. Here in Fiendfell, however, it is distinct to elves, giving them an appearance reminiscent of Asian features.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I with my silky smooth black hair could pass up for Umbryan if I cancelled my ears, but if an umbryan elf were to stare at me, they would quickly notice that I didn't have the facial feature of noctil elves. As for Aquaflora, she's a strange mix, being half Argyrian she partly possesed the common argyrian and umbryan's feature but the feature she inherited from her mother side, in other words human side were still there, so she was stuck somewhere in the middle where she could've passed for umbryan had it not been for those ashy blonde hair of hers, which betrayed any attempt at blending in. As for Licht, with his red hair, and face he might have as well screamed, "I am an outsider," he would have been more discreet.

With a rictus on his face, Licht remarked, "If I'd known it would have gone like this I would have dressed in something more discreet."

I doubt even a hood would have made you any more discreet budy, I thought to myself, if anythng that would have made him look more suspicious.

Smiling only at his remark but not commenting the three of us proceeded in our touristic endeavors, moving from stall to another, we weren't looking for anything in particular just anything that would successfully catch our interest, for Licht and I, those were obviously artifact that can't found in the human continent. Doing this brought me back to my early days upon reaching a big city I went on artifact hunt one that'll provide me some measure of healing which ultimately brought me to the workshop belonging to the old elf named Charlie, it made me feel somewhat nostalgic.

While I set out to find artifacts, I never intended to limit my interests solely to that pursuit. So when I came across a stall selling what appeared to be cosmetic products, I decided to investigate. A few young elves were sampling the wares, but as soon as they noticed my approach, they scattered, much to the stall owner's dismay. I offered her a sympathetic smile. Quickly regaining her composure, she welcomed me, adopting the practiced demeanor of a seasoned shopkeeper. She began to present her products: perfumes—some of them quite potent—skin whiteners, even treatments for teeth, and several other intriguing items.

My curiosity, however, remained relatively unpiqued until she revealed a special box. Within it lay a small mirror adorned with golden filigree, which opened to reveal two sections. In the center was a fine paintbrush, neatly dividing the compartment into two halves, each containing a distinct balm of similar consistency and color. The vendor explained that one was a type of lipstick, the other a red under-eye makeup favored by certain elven fashions.

I should note that, although I have long since embraced the fact that I am more woman now than ever before, I have never truly been drawn to elaborate cosmetics. I have always needed only the barest hint of enhancement—after all, I was already beautiful. For centuries, I found no genuine interest in makeup beyond the simplest necessities. It was not until some two hundred years ago, when I suddenly found myself caring for a young girl, that something within me changed. In caring for her, I discovered a new sense of delight and curiosity in these arts of adornment and self-expression that I've so far always overlooked.

Holding the ornate cosmetics box in my hand, I couldn’t help but recall the days when I came back from my many journey bearing all sorts of gifts. Together with Goblin and Bortz, I used to dress Blondie up—perfumes, fancy dresses, makeup of all kinds. In retrospect, we might have treated that poor girl like a living doll, a thought that now made me chuckle softly. As I did, I wondered how these new cosmetics might look on her, only to have my musings interrupted when I spotted a girl out of the corner of my eye whose blonde-shaded hair faintly reminded me of Blondie herself.

Aquaflora, noticing my sidelong glance, turned and asked apprehensively, “What?”

“Do you hate cosmetics?” I asked, curious.

She seemed surprised by the question. “No,” she answered, though her tone lacked conviction.

“Well, in that case…” I took the opportunity at once, offering the makeup box back to the stall owner to hold while I reached for Aquaflora’s chin, lifting it gently. “You won’t mind us trying this out on you then, right?” I didn’t give her time to refuse. With a swift, practiced motion, I applied the lip gloss first and then the red tint under her eyes.

“Don’t squirm,” I chided, noticing her flinch. “If you move, it’ll smear past your lips.” She narrowed her eyes, wincing as if expecting pain. “Why are you squinting like that? It’s not going to hurt.” The truth was, even a five-year-old Sharonne had been more cooperative than Aquaflora was now. For someone who claimed to have nothing against cosmetics, her discomfort was obvious.

Now that I think of it, it made sense, considering her swamp-witch lifestyle—appearance was hardly her top priority.

Once finished, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. Aquaflora finally opened her eyes and asked, in a small, sheepish voice, “How is it?”

I took the cosmetics box back from the shopkeeper and angled it so she could see her reflection. “Well,” I said, inspecting her face in the mirror, “red does look good on your lips, but it’s not the best match for those lovely blue eyes of yours.”

At that, I noticed her cheeks flush. “You’re blushing,” I teased, surprised and more than a little amused.

“I’m not!” she insisted, bringing her hands up to cover her face. Her response only fueled my laughter.

“You can’t expect me to believe that,” I said, leaning in a bit, “not when you’re reacting like that.”

Her protests grew more fervent. “I think you are,” I added, enjoying the moment far too much.

“I’m not!” she repeated, this time turning around and attempting to wipe away the carefully applied makeup. I let out a weary sigh and reached into my belongings for a handkerchief, stepping closer to help clean her up. She squirmed again, but I held steady, much as one would with a fussy child.

As I gently wiped the under-eye makeup away, she closed her eyes again, making me pause. “What is it?” she asked, opening them and noticing I was staring.

I smiled faintly. “I don’t know if you remember it as well as I do, but the first time I saw you, you were with Sir Alphonse, hiding your face beneath that conspicuous hood. The very first thing I noticed were your blue eyes.” I continued dabbing away the red tint. “They stayed in my mind for a long time back then, you know.”

Her face flamed an even deeper shade of crimson, and I had to bite down on a grin that threatened to form. Oh, poor thing—blushing like a firework just because of a few kind words. I supposed that living in the woods had turned her into a flustered little lamb indeed. This was going to be fun.

Before I could enjoy it further, a sudden cough snapped me out of my reverie. It came from none other than Licht, who, once I glanced his way, averted his gaze, pretending not to have coughed at all. I returned my attention to Aquaflora, only to find she’d reclaimed the handkerchief and was now wiping her face by herself.

Turning to the shopkeeper, I declared. “I’ll buy this,” I said, tapping the cosmetics box. “Also, do you have anything else that might suit my—friend over there?”