Fianna returned to the palace, her heart still heavy with the weight of recent revelations, yet soothed by her newfound resolve. As she stepped into the grand hall, her eyes fell upon her mother, Lythari, and her brother, Altheon, both waiting with tense expressions.
"Mother," Fianna called softly.
Lythari turned sharply at the sound of her daughter's voice, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Fianna!" she cried out, rushing toward her with open arms. She wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace, her voice trembling with emotion. "Where have you been? I feared the worst—I thought the trolls, or worse, the goblins, had captured you!" Her voice cracked, and the worry in her eyes was palpable.
Fianna gently pulled away, her expression firm but tender. "Mother, I'm stronger than you think. I can handle myself now," she said, her voice carrying the quiet confidence of someone who had faced her demons. "No trolls or goblins could ever capture me."
Lythari's eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking. "Please, Fianna. Find it in your heart to forgive me." She struggled to speak, her composure faltering. "I have kept things from you, but it was never my intention to hurt you. I was only trying to protect you."
Before Fianna could respond, her brother Altheon stepped forward. His tall frame and broad shoulders were a testament to the battles he had fought, his silver armor still bearing the scars of past wars. His face, sharp and regal, bore a grim expression. His dark hair fell loosely over his shoulders, and his green eyes—a mirror of their father's—were filled with a quiet intensity.
"Fianna," Altheon said, his deep voice filled with an older brother's concern, "please... forgive Mother. She has suffered more than you know." He paused, his gaze flickering with the painful memories of the past. "She may not have told you everything, but it was never out of malice. She hid the truth to protect you from the horrors that nearly destroyed our people."
Fianna's eyes softened as she regarded him. "What horrors, Altheon?" she asked, her voice strained, but curious.
Altheon sighed deeply, his expression darkening as he began to recount their family's history, his words laden with sorrow and rage. "When you were still in her womb, the trolls and goblins unleashed their fury on our kingdom. They waged a brutal war against us, led by their monstrous cavalry. Father—he fought to the last breath, determined to protect us. I was a child then, but I remember every detail as if it were yesterday."
His voice wavered as he continued. "Father's death was swift, but Mother... she had to fight her way through the battlefield, carrying you inside her. She was not only protecting you—she was protecting the legacy of our people. And when Father fell, she watched him die, his blood staining the ground beneath her feet. She fought with a vengeance I've never seen, even as she carried the weight of our future within her. But the humiliation, the shame the trolls and goblins brought upon us—she has borne that alone for years, hiding it from you to spare you the pain."
Fianna's breath caught in her throat as she listened, her heart aching with the weight of her brother's words. Altheon's face was hard, but his voice was filled with sorrow as he pleaded, "She has already suffered more than any of us can comprehend. Don't let her carry the burden of your anger too."
A silence hung between them, thick with the memories of loss and sacrifice. Fianna's gaze shifted to her mother, who stood trembling before her, tears glistening in her eyes. For a moment, Fianna felt the depth of Lythari's pain—the weight of secrets kept, of battles fought, of a legacy protected at all costs.
With a deep breath, Fianna stepped forward and took her mother's hand. "Mother, I have already forgiven you," she whispered, her voice soft yet resolute. "You did what you thought was best. And now, as the next heir, I will restore the glory of our people. The elves will rise again."
Lythari's tear-filled eyes widened, her lips trembling as she smiled through her sorrow. "You are brave, my daughter," she whispered. "Stronger than I could have ever hoped for."
Fianna smiled back, a mixture of determination and warmth in her gaze. "You made me strong, Mother. You trained me to be the finest archer, the fiercest fighter. It is because of you that I stand here today."
Just then, a soft knock echoed from the grand door. Lythari straightened, regaining her composure. "Who is it?" she called out.
"It is I, Leah," came the familiar voice of one of the palace servants.
Lythari's expression softened as she called back, "What is it, Leah?"
"The dinner is served, Your Majesty," Leah replied from behind the door.
Lythari nodded, glancing at her children with a weary but warm smile. "We'll be there shortly."
As Leah's footsteps faded away, the three of them stood in the soft glow of the hall, united once again in a fragile peace. "Let's go," Lythari said, her voice now steady, though her eyes still shimmered with unshed tears. "We have much to discuss over dinner."
Fianna, Altheon, and their mother walked together toward the dining hall, the shadows of the past still lingering but no longer so heavy. They were a family forged in battle, bound by secrets, but at last, there was hope for healing.