Cynthia's steps grew slower the closer she came to the base of the world tree while following Sinna. Her heart thudded painfully within her chest, each beat echoing against the vast silence.
At the base of the world tree, arranged in a wide half-circle, were seats grown from the roots themselves—smooth and natural, shaped not by tools but by magical intentions of the ancient tree itself. Five elves sat upon them, though only three watched her with active attention. The other two kept their eyes on the grassy fields stretching out ahead, quiet and detached, acting as if her arrival was none of their concern
In the center stood a throne, raised just a little higher and carved with subtler, finer detail than the others. Upon it, with effortless grace, sat an elegant elven woman who left no doubt in Cynthia's mind: this was the Queen of the Elves—the one who ruled an entire race across the continent.
Her hair was black as night water, cascading down her shoulders like a living curtain of silk. Her golden eyes, bright and deep like sunlight reflected in amber, regarded Cynthia with calm intensity. An elegant golden crown rested lightly upon her brow, simple yet undeniably regal. The atmosphere around her hummed with quiet authority and grace.
Cynthia had never seen anyone more beautiful, except for Vaelmira. The resemblance of their poise struck her sharply, and she swallowed hard against the grief rising once again within her throat for remembering her lost friend.
To the queen's right sat a stern female elf with short purple hair, and unusually large green pupils that seemed to catch every small movement. Her bare shoulders were marked with intricate tattoos, giving her a dangerous and untamed appearance. Her expression was colder than the others, her gaze sharp as she fixed her attention upon the human woman approaching.
Cynthia almost faltered under the weight of their eyes. She held Aegon closer, protecting him instinctively. His small hand clung to her cloak, and he looked around with wide curiosity, unaware of the tension that bound the world around him.
Sinna slowed her pace and came to a stop several steps ahead of her. She exhaled once, straightened her posture, and stepped forward alone. Cynthia watched as she bowed with one knee pressed to the grass.
"I have brought her, Your Majesty," Sinna said. Her tone held deep respect, and the phrase itself felt appropriate for her position.
The queen acknowledged Sinna with a gentle nod. Then her golden eyes settled once more on Cynthia.
"Come forward, human."
Her voice was calm, almost melodic, holding neither harshness nor hostility. The sound eased Cynthia's trembling nerves. Adjusting her grip on Aegon, she stepped past Sinna and approached the base of the dais. She bowed her head slightly, not daring to kneel fully while holding the child.
Aegon peeked up at the queen with innocent fascination, his silver streaked hair glowing faintly under the sun's light.
The queen's lips curved in a serene smile.
"Tell me your name, human friend from afar."
The word friend caused a soft ripple of discomfort among the council. Cynthia heard a chair creak faintly. Someone to the queen's left had shifted, clearly displeased.
Cynthia cleared her throat. Her voice trembled.
"Hello, Your Majesty. My name is Cynthia."
The queen nodded slowly.
"Well, Cynthia," she continued, "I have heard from Eirathas that you seek asylum within Eldhaven and that you came carrying an elf infant. We must ask how you came to possess this child, or whose child he is. None of my subjects have reported a missing infant, which means he is not from Eldhaven. Please tell us your story."
Cynthia inhaled shakily.
"He… he is not from Eldhaven. Aegon was born outside the Endless Forest."
Before Cynthia could continue, an elf on the queen's left leaned forward. His sharp blue eyes glittered coldly.
"That's impossible," he snapped, voice sharp and cold. "No elf is ever permitted to leave the Endless Forest, much less give birth among the lesser races. No one would risk their life—or their child's—by stepping beyond Eldhaven's walls, not even while pregnant. Unless…" His lip curled in disgust. "Unless the child is a half-breed. Which would be an unspeakable disgrace."
His disdain struck Cynthia like a blow. Her throat tightened, and she clutched Aegon closer.
The queen lifted a graceful hand.
"Let her speak, Elder Dawnstar," she said, her tone calm yet firm. "We will hear the whole truth before drawing conclusions."
She turned back to Cynthia, her eyes urging her to continue.
"You may continue, Lady Cynthia."
Cynthia hesitated. Fear twisted inside her. 'What if they rejected Aegon? What if they rejected her? Vaelmira had believed the queen would protect him, but what if she was wrong, or what if Cynthia ruined everything by telling the truth?'
But there was no choice. The truth was all she had.
"Aegon is my friend's son," she said softly, her voice steady even as her eyes flickered with hesitation between them. "He is Vaelmira Moonborn's son."
The vast field of swaying grass and scattered wildflowers fell into sudden, stunned silence. Cynthia's words hung in the air like a thunderclap no one had expected. Even the two male elves who had been feigning disinterest—gazing idly at the horizon as though nothing could touch them—snapped their attention to her, eyes wide with shock and something colder, more serious. Whatever mask they'd worn was gone now; her revelation had struck them just as hard as the rest.
The queen's serene expression cracked, only briefly. A flash of raw emotion flickered in her golden eyes: shock, grief, disbelief. It vanished almost instantly, but Cynthia had seen it.
A murmur rippled through the council.
The purple haired elf with large green pupils let out a tired sigh.
"Oh, that lass Vaelmira," she said, resting her cheek in her palm. "Was she not the one who wished to chase freedom and ran away years ago? Now she sends her child back to us?"
"So tell me, human," Her voice smooth as polished ice yet edged with venom. "Where is Vaelmira? Did she grow ashamed to return? Did she tire of the freedom she chased, and now she sends her child ahead, hoping we will soften because she is a mother? Hoping we will forgive her abandonment of duty, her flight from the Endless Forest, and welcome her disgrace as though mercy is owed?"
Before Cynthia could gather her words, Elder Dawnstar spoke again, his tone dripping with scorn.
"Of course she must return. What lesser creatures would shelter her except to use her body for their entertainment?" His disgust was palpable. "Tsk. Such shame. A disgrace to the Moonborn family and its legacy. She abandoned her duties to this council and chased after a hollow dream. And now she believes we will accept her back as though nothing—"
The queen's gaze hardened little by little as they spoke, but still she said nothing to defend her own childhood friend.
Finally she asked Cynthia, in a quiet, steady voice, "Why is she not here, Lady Cynthia? Why did she sent you with her child?"
Cynthia let out a slow, sorrowful breath. Her gaze lingered on Aegon, who was in her arms, wide-eyed at the sea of grass and flowers, before she lifted her chin to meet the queen's unyielding stare.
"She is dead," she whispered. Her voice faltered and broke. "Vaelmira passed away."
A visible tremor ran across the queen's hands as they gripped the armrests of her throne. Her head lowered as if to hide the raw grief that flickered through her.
Silence wrapped around the chamber. Even the glowing leaves of the world tree dimmed faintly, as if mourning with the queen.
When the queen finally spoke again, her voice was soft.
"How did she pass? Was she ill? Or was she killed?"
Cynthia swallowed hard, her voice thick with sorrow."She… she died protecting us."
Her voice trembled, but she forced the words out.
She told them everything: how the Count's soldiers had hunted them relentlessly, how she and Vaelmira had run for days without rest, clutching Aegon tightly. How they finally reached the edge of the Endless Forest only to be stopped by the slave mark seared into Vaelmira's soul, a cruel bond that prevented her from entering without her owner's permission and would kill her if she moved too far away.
When the Count's men closed in, Vaelmira pressed Aegon into Cynthia's arms, told her to run into the forest and reach Eldhaven, then turned back to face the soldiers alone so Cynthia and the child could escape. That was the last time Cynthia saw her.
Cynthia's voice broke repeatedly. Her tears fell freely as she recounted what happened to her and Vaelmira. As she told it all.
When she finished, the queen's head was bowed. Her fingers trembled faintly against the throne.
The council, however, erupted in anger.
The green eyed elf spoke first. Her voice was sharp, full of suspicion.
"Hm. You claim Vaelmira is dead, yet from your own tale, the last you saw her, she still lived. Perhaps she survived those humans. Perhaps even now she is captive. How can you be so certain?" She rose from her seat and descended the steps until she stood only a few paces from Cynthia. "Your story leaves room for assumptions, human. Suspicious assumptions."
Cynthia flinched back, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her trembling arms tightened around Aegon.
"I do not know," she cried. "I do not know if she is alive or dead. She told me to run. She told me to bring him to the queen. She told me to follow the glowing green marks on the tree in the forest. That is all I know."
The elf snorted.
"So you abandoned your friend. You ran away while she fought alone. You told no one she might still be alive. You did not even inform the patrol that found you. If you had told them, they would have gone to rescue her."
She turned sharply to Sinna.
"Would you not have gone, Patrolling Guard Sinna?"
Sinna's jaw clenched.
"Of course, Elder Thalanor," she said. "Rescuing endangered kin is the duty I swore myself to."
The elven woman standing in front of Cynthia, whom she now knew to be Elder Thalanor, fixed her gaze on her once more, eyes cold as winter steel.
"So how can we believe you, human, when you abandoned your friend, said nothing in her defense, and came crawling here without asking us to save her? Perhaps you are hiding something. Perhaps you are lying."
Cynthia bowed her head, trembling uncontrollably. Guilt, grief, and terror pressed down on her all at once: guilt for the being careless the moment that she felt saved, grief for abandoning Vaelmira even though her friend had begged to be left behind, had whispered that she no longer wished to live the life of a slave. The weight of it crushed her, and with it came the sickening fear that Aegon would pay for her failure.
Aegon whimpered softly as her hot tears slipped from her lashes and fell onto his cheeks.
Elder Dawnstar scoffed loudly.
"What else can be expected from a selfish lesser race? For all we know, she uses Vaelmira's name to gain entry to Eldhaven. Perhaps she is a criminal fleeing her empire. Or perhaps her people seek to infiltrate our lands. This reeks of deception."
The words struck Cynthia like physical blows.
But then the queen lifted her head.
Her eyes were cold now, a sharp and dangerous gold.
"That is enough Elenya, you too Aredhel."
Her voice, though quiet, silenced the mumbling council members. Even the vines of the world tree seemed to freeze in place.
"She is innocent," the queen continued, her tone brooking no argument. "Do not accuse her further."
Shock rippled through the council. Elder Dawnstar stared at the queen in disbelief.
"Your Majesty," he said, choosing his words carefully, "surely you do not believe the claims of this human."
The queen rose slowly from her throne.
Her eyes were distant, unfocused, as if she were listening to something no one else could hear.
The surroundings deepened into an eerie stillness.
A soft glow emanated from the world tree above, growing brighter, pulsing with gentle green light. The very air seemed to hum, vibrating with ancient power.
The queen closed her eyes.
Then a whisper of shimmering wind swept through the gathering area.
Elder Thalanor gasped in shock and disbelief as she witnessed this magical phenomenon.
"The Mother Tree," she whispered.
The glow intensified. It coalesced around the queen, swirling gently like luminous mist. Cynthia could only stare, unable to comprehend what she was witnessing, but the elves around her knelt with reverence.
The queen opened her eyes.
She exhaled slowly, and grief weighed heavily in her gaze.
"Our Mother has spoken."
No one dared even breathe.
The vast meadow held its silence as the World Tree's ancient voice rolled through the air a second time, speaking directly to their queen alone.
The queen lifted her chin, her shoulders trembling.
"Vaelmira Moonborn returned to the Mother Tree last night. Her soul is home. She chose to end her life rather than allow the slave mark to forge her spirit into corruption."
Cynthia pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
Even the faint spark of hope Elder Thalanor's words had kindled was extinguished now.
She was certain, at last, that her friend was truly free. Even the council, despite their earlier hostility, froze in stunned silence.
Elder Thalanor's voice broke.
"Your Majesty… you say the Mother Tree herself confirmed this?"
"Yes," the queen whispered. "She told me all that befell Vaelmira. Because of the slave mark, it was impossible to separate her soul from the mark without tearing it apart. Her final act was to release herself into the Mother Tree before the corruption of submission consumed her. Her spirit is freed, but her body perished beyond the forest."