The Elder smiled warmly and clapped his hands. At his signal, the music from bone flutes and stringed instruments shifted into a slower, more haunting melody. The villagers cleared a wide space in the center of the clearing, and several Dark Elf dancers mostly young women and a few lithe warriors stepped forward.
They wore flowing dark garments embroidered with silver threads that caught the blue glow of the floating motes. Their silver hair was adorned with glowing lichen and small bone ornaments that chimed softly as they moved.
The dance began slowly.
It was not a simple celebration, but a story told through motion. The dancers moved like shadows given form graceful yet sharp, flowing like liquid night. Their bare feet barely seemed to touch the ground as they spun and weaved, arms tracing invisible runes in the air. At times their movements mimicked battle: sharp strikes, dodging unseen blows, then flowing into elegant arches that resembled prayer or mourning.
