To see Endapano, an island that had been the stronghold of a branch of his kind, a place that they had been practically corralled into, it bared grievance into his waking heart. To him, elves were the most natural of creatures to exist, and to have been stripped of their lands by greedy humans, it was sickening. But he had to remind himself to try and not clump all of them together. It was a…difficult adjustment for him so far- Baeleth still struggled to find that peace, that center within himself. Perhaps it was all for naught, but he couldn’t very well cease his attempts until they proved absolutely futile.

Perhaps that was why he was here in its city, surrounded by brethren. But still, he felt so out of place. Traditions he was accustomed to were nowhere in sight. No, the seraph elves were vastly different from that of wood and high breeds. His armor, cast away back home, was not among him. Instead, silk robes of blue and gold were donned, completely with a rugged set of boots. His midnight hair was laced together into a singular strain down his back. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been so exposed before the masses; though he was certain that the possible moment was during happier times.

Slowly, he made his way forward. He joined with the busy masses as they went about their daily routines. He watched silently as they mingled, haggle, smithing, and practicing magic. Despite the differences, he at least saw bits and pieces of another time, another place. Back when he was at home and his people participated in similar things. Both common word and elvish filled his ears from conversations every which direction. It took him mere moments to understand the latter, of what he heard and a small, faint smile came from his usual firm lips.

It felt nice.