Queen Lythari returned to her chambers, her flowing robes trailing behind her like a shadow of her regal presence. As she took her seat, the door opened softly, revealing her daughter, Fianna. The young elf stepped into the room, her emerald eyes ablaze with both curiosity and frustration.
"Mother," Fianna began, her voice steady but edged with emotion. "What was the pronouncement you made outside? How could you allow such a thing—an alliance between elves and humans? Why, mother?"
Lythari sighed, her gaze distant, as if seeing something far beyond the room. "You wouldn't understand, Fianna. You're still a child. The weight of matters like these is too great for you."
"A child?" Fianna's voice tightened as she straightened her posture. "Mother, I am twenty years old now. Soon, I will be the heir to the throne. You can't dismiss me like this. How can you make decisions like these without considering me?"
"Not until I have made my pilgrimage to the land of our ancestors will you be ready to take on such burdens," Lythari responded, her voice firm yet weary. "As long as I remain queen, my word is law. It is not up for debate."
Fianna, undeterred, moved closer to her mother, her features softening as she knelt beside her. "Mother, I am your daughter, your blood. Is there something you're hiding from me? How can we form an alliance with humans—creatures who act without thought or caution? Call off this alliance, mother, before it harms the elves and all of E'lgoroth."
Lythari's eyes darkened with sorrow as she replied, "You don't understand, Fianna. We need their strength to stand against the trolls and goblins who have vowed to take Holyoke and annihilate the elves. They are rising again, more vicious and numerous than ever."
"Trolls? Goblins?" Fianna's voice sharpened with defiance. "If they are our enemies, then we will face them ourselves! The elves are strong. We don't need the reckless aid of humans."
Lythari's voice broke, her composure cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek. "You do not know the horrors they bring, Fianna. They are malevolent creatures, born of hatred for our kind. They have destroyed us before..."
"Mother," Fianna whispered, her voice tender now, "why are you crying? What is it that you're not telling me?"
Lythari's breath trembled as she spoke, her words laden with grief. "You remind me of the war—twenty-one years ago, when the trolls allied with the goblins and brought ruin upon us. It was a time of endless bloodshed, Fianna. They slaughtered our people, burned our villages. Your father... your father was killed in that war."
Fianna's eyes widened in shock. "My father? He fought a war? You've never spoken of it."
Lythari nodded, her sorrow deepening. "Yes, my child. He was murdered by the troll cavalry, alongside so many of our kin. I was with child—carrying you—when it happened. Your brother, Altheon, was still just a boy, barely old enough to understand the world around him when we were plunged into chaos. Our people starved; we were broken, and it took every ounce of strength to rebuild."
Fianna's voice shook, torn between anger and sorrow. "You never told me this. All these years, I've lived without knowing the truth of our past. Why, mother? Why would you keep this from me?"
"I wanted to protect you," Lythari whispered, her voice fragile as glass. "I didn't want to burden you with the pain I felt—the pain of losing your father, of seeing our people suffer. You endured so much as a child, and I couldn't bear to add more to it."
Fianna's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her emotions storming within her. "But you lied to me! You told me my father died of sickness. Why would you hide the truth from me?"
"I was wrong," Lythari confessed, her voice breaking as she reached for her daughter. "Forgive me, Fianna. I thought I was sparing you."
But Fianna pulled away, her face tight with hurt and betrayal. Without another word, she turned and stormed from the room, her steps echoing like the retreat of a wounded deer into the wild.
"Fianna!" Lythari called after her, but her voice was lost in the empty halls. The queen remained seated, her heart heavy with the weight of the past, knowing that the truth she had kept hidden had now torn open a rift between her and her daughter.