Elandril, still cradled by the ancient tree's roots, looked at Yala with a mixture of paternal concern and determination. "Listen, Yala," he began, his voice a gentle yet firm anchor in the midst of turmoil. "I need you to be strong. The fate of Eldora depends on us overcoming this darkness."
Yala, tear-streaked but resolute, met her father's gaze. "I can't just leave you here, Father. What if something happens to you?"
Elandril cupped her face in his hands, his touch a source of comfort. "I will be alright. The forest has its own healing magic, and I am not alone. I need you to find Lyon, and inform him of the situation, and together, you can rally the forces needed to reclaim Eldora from those who seek to harm it."
Yala hesitated, torn between filial duty and the urgency of her father's plea. "I don't want to lose you, Father."
