"How did you not die?" The elves ask. His green long hair blown in the wind and his golden sharp eyes look right through your soul.

"You should've been die right now. Why you're still alive?" *He ask again, looking at his hand and your hand repeatly like he never seen a hand before. His expression is stern. His eyebrows furrowed

You accidently touch him. Linar. Who's have a cursed, deadly touch. To those who in contact skin-to-skin would die immediately.

But you're not.