"Thank you." The young female elf didn't refuse, she took the bread from Leylin's hand.
The elf before him must be a member of the Dayleaf family, otherwise she wouldn't be in the logistics team. Taking this opportunity, Leylin wanted to ask about the food.
"Mind answering a few questions?" Leylin asked tentatively.
The young elf was only focused on eating her bread, she nodded.
"I know of House Dayleaf, they are a minor noble of Quel'Thalas, so I'd like to ask, besides dealing with the war, does your family have any extra food available?" Leylin said.
The elf slightly raised her head, her unfocused eyes revealing a slight glint. In the elf's understanding, only spies would ask such questions. However, this mage wasn't a spy; judging from his attire, he was a member of the Silvermoon Council.
Although the elf didn't know why this mage was concerned about the Dayleaf family, she still answered Leylin's questions.
"There's enough extra food. Even if Quel'Thalas is at war for two years, they'll still buy grain from Lordaeron." The young elf girl said calmly.
"I want to get some grain." Leylin had been worrying about this problem for days. The townspeople from Darrowshire hadn't brought enough food after arriving in Windrunner Village.
Alleria had been busy with the army's mobilization and hadn't had time to deal with these issues. However, since the townspeople had come to Quel'Thalas, Leylin felt responsible for them.
The elf girl said, "No problem, as long as you have enough gold, they'll give it to you."
Leylin still had some gold, and after receiving the girl's reply, his worries were finally relieved. However, during his conversation with the girl, Leylin noticed that this elf girl seemed somewhat resistant to her family.
She seemed preoccupied, and her tone and actions revealed a hint of despondency. Leylin didn't want to interfere in other elves' affairs, but he was curious, so he decided to talk to the girl a little longer.
"You know what we mages are here to do in the Ghostlands, right?"
"To rebuild the magical barrier after the Troll Wars, in preparation for the upcoming war." the girl answered expressionlessly.
Looking at her utterly dejected expression, Leylin said, "Are you so listless because you're afraid of war? Your bright red attire doesn't seem like something a girl with your personality would wear."
The girl didn't answer Leylin's question; she frowned slightly, as if recalling painful memories.
"Don't want to answer? I was just asking casually, don't mind me." Leylin felt his awkwardness flare up again.
The girl shook her head: "I'm not afraid of war, I have nothing to worry about. Whether we win or lose, it has nothing to do with me, as long as I can survive, that's enough."
These words caught Leylin's attention; this was the very first elf he had seen since arriving in Quel'Thalas who felt the least attached to the kingdom.
"A survivalist? You don't need to look at me like that, that's true." Leylin said, sensing the slight hostility in the elven girl's indifferent gaze.
The girl, understanding the mage's sentiment, said, "Thank you for your understanding. You're different from other elves. Is it because you're human?"
"No, it's just my personal understanding. I can't guarantee that all humans think the same way I do," Leylin said with a smile.
He hadn't introduced himself yet. Leylin still used human etiquette, extending his left hand to the girl and saying, "Hello, I am Leylin. A magister from the Silvermoon Council."
The girl grasped Leylin's hand, her face still showing doubt, as if asking: Is that so?
Leylin nodded, and the elven girl spoke, "Hello, my name is Seyla Dayleaf."
Leylin didn't think that within the high elf nobles, there were lots of problems due to their feeling of superiority. The young elven girl might probably be tormented by her own family. That's why the sudden mindset and feelings were not wrong.
"Now that we've met, if you need any help in the future, just tell me. I'm always very kind to beautiful elven girls," Leylin said honestly.
These words were somewhat shameless, but Seyla didn't reject Leylin. This mage seemed much better than those two-faced fellows in her family.
"No, I don't want to trouble you." Seyla shook her head, her face indifferent.
Suddenly, she felt sorry for this girl; she was different from Sylvanas. Although Sylvanas was cold and serious, she still maintained a high level of enthusiasm for her duties. Whatever Sylvanas did, she had a strong sense of purpose.
Seyla was different; she was gloomy all over. She seemed to have no goals or hopes, or rather, she hadn't found the belief that she should live for.
Stroking his chin, Leylin nodded and said, "Then let's leave it at that. We'll talk again when we have the chance." Leylin bid farewell to Seyla.
After the mage left, Seyla sat on the food cart, feeling even more lost than before. She had just found someone to talk to, and now that was gone too.
With a long sigh, Seyla lay down in the cart without a care. The cart was dark, and no other elves could see her. In the shadows, she found a long-lost warmth.
Back at his humble lodgings, Leylin settled into his usual nighttime routine, the dim glow of candlelight flickering softly across the cluttered space filled with magical tomes and strange artifacts.
He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to center himself, then began to circulate his mage energy; a familiar, rhythmic flow that he had practiced countless times before.
He focused on the core of his being, channeling his arcane power through his veins, allowing it to spiral outward in controlled, deliberate motions. As he did, he visualized the progress he had made earlier that day—the subtle insights into the structure of the arcane energies and the new understanding he had begun to grasp.
With steady concentration, Leylin initiated his arcane advancement, guiding his magical essence to evolve and ascend. Each movement and thought were precise, as he pushed the boundaries of his current mastery, seeking to unlock new depths of power.
The energy around him shimmered faintly, responding to his intent, as if acknowledging his efforts.