Pale cream walls, even more muted now thanks to the moonlight that draped over them, stretched skyward, sloping slightly to meet in an elegantly painted rotunda at the top. The triumphs and perils of the elven race were displayed side by side as their history told in pictures spiraled upward. The elves' existence as a whole was represented in that brilliant fresco that stretched so far above them; everything that has been, is, and will be was already painted on the Calendar, predetermined millennia ago by beings greater than any mere elf. Likewise, no person could ever go against the fate destined by the Calendar. It was for this reason that the very top of the rotunda, the absolute center of the fresco, of humanity, of everything, was something of a concern if one believed in it. The top of the rotunda was destined to be the beginning of the End Days, with the foreboding representation of an ugly black hole with thousands of eyes.<br/><br/>Reid shivered in spite of himself. Even the sheer<span style="font-style: italic">presence</span>of the Oratory was too much for him, and he found himself trying to look at anything except for the Calendar. This meant, unfortunately, looking awkwardly across the large span of table at his adversaries. He'd done well to keep his tongue firmly clamped between his teeth; if he wasn't in the presence of the king, he'd have had some choice words for the light elves across the way. The way they looked at him; looked at his cinnamon brown skin and black tribal markings, at the long black hair that mostly haphazardly down his back and shoulders, save for two braids that hung down the right of his face. The braids were loosely adorned with small metal rings. Seven of them in total; one for each battle he'd fought in. Thanks to the ongoing war, he'd only just recently gotten his seventh. He idly flipped it over in his hand as he played with one of his braids.<br/><br/>They were waiting. Had been waiting, were<span style="font-style: italic">going</span>to be waiting for however long the royal family of the light elves felt like keeping them waiting. The king sat next to him, the incoming moonlight delicately shadowing his features to almost make him show his age. Aloth, who should have felt the<span style="font-style: italic">most</span>comfortable here, sat with his back straight and his hands neatly folded in his lap. No, he was the most uncomfortable of them all.<br/><br/>"How long are they going to keep us waiting?" Reid whispered. Aloth did not answer, but turned his eyes to the towering and elegant double doors to one side of the Oratory. He stood, his hands still politely intertwined, and Reid followed suit.<br/><br/>They were here.