Frank sat quietly at Azzie’s side, unsure of what to make of the Elves and their elaborate posturing.
His writer’s imagination was sorely disappointed. They were beautiful, mysterious and as exotic as he’d expected, almost dreamlike. And he’d expected them to be haughty and arrogant, but this bunch was plain rude. They could treat him like dirt; he was, after all, human. But the way the Elite had spoken to Sun, a powerful being who had offered them friendship, was inexcusable.
He was reminded of a horror movie he’d seen years ago. He couldn’t remember the name, only the plot, which had involved a group of angelic-looking children luring adults to their town, where they sacrificed them.
The Elves were very much like those children: sweet to gaze upon, faces of innocence, with cold, murderous hearts within.
And Azzie’s supposed to be the bad guy. He shook his head in amazement.