Under the moon's pale glow, the once-serene forest of the elves was now a vision of ruin. Charred bark crumbled into ash beneath the faint wind, flames danced along blackened roots, and the air reeked of smoke and blood. The World Tree's radiant aura had dimmed into a haunting stillness — as though the forest itself were holding its breath.
Amid the devastation, the Elf Queen knelt upon the scorched soil, a trickle of crimson staining her lips. Her golden-emerald hair, once flowing like sunlight, now clung to her face in disarray. "...Mother Tree…" she whispered weakly, one trembling hand reaching toward the distance — toward the ancient heart of their forest.
"Your Majesty!" Elowen's voice broke through the chaos as she rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside her queen. Her hands glowed faintly with healing magic, the green light flickering like dying embers. "What happened? Please, speak to me!"
