Prologue
Xadia was not as she remembered.
She was uncertain of how long she had been gone. There was no possible way to be able to count all those days, all those nights, all those endless centuries that had come and passed in her absence, but the world she once knew was not only different now—it was also strange. In a sense, it was as if the lands she had grown up in, the ones she had explored for years and loved with her heart, had vanished with her.
Her stars aligned once again. The world aligned once again.
While the change was unexpected, shocking, and even a bit painful to witness, it was not unwelcome. In all her time away, however long that was supposed to be, she had missed and lost so much that a part of her—the one part of her soul that remained intact through the pain, the one that wished to live—craved for nothing more than to explore and become familiar with all that was now mystery.
It was an adventure.
However, the one rational part of her mind—of her heart—, the one that had dictated most of her choices throughout her life, recognized one undeniable truth, in spite of how much she wanted and needed to deny it.
She was tired of adventures.
Before she could regret it, she made her way inside the tavern. The strong stench of alcohol, caramel and humidity all mixed up filled her senses at that moment. It was so intense, so overwhelming, that it made her consider turning her back to the place.
But, no. She couldn't leave.
In one corner of the room, illuminated under a light that seemed to be about to fall from the ceiling, there was a small crowd gathered in a circle, a group that had separated from the other customers that drank and laughed among themselves, their eyes wide open and filled with wonder. There were elves from all regions sharing one same space, one same feeling, a scene that was hard to find in these times.
They all listened to the little storyteller.
She smiled, a little amused—a little exasperated, too—, but fond. She sat down.
Of course it's you, kid.
"She had reached the heavens!" He exclaimed. The boy's hands moved around himself, almost wildly as he tried to act out his own tale. His little wings seemed to flutter with each word that came out of his mouth, so much that she wondered for a moment if they did not hurt, "And her wings were far bigger than mine, far bigger than this full tavern!"
The crowd was shocked, and the sound of surprised mutters—from various places and various people—ended with the silence that had settled within them until then. There were those who rolled their eyes with disbelief and a bit of mockery, more than ready to speak up and correct the boy on his rather loud statements. And there were those who leaned a bit forward with anticipation and curiosity, waiting for the story to continue.
"No lies, no lies in here!" He protested this time, his hands pointing towards the crowd with both irritation and defensiveness, "Her wings were even bigger than those of a dragon!"
And she had to laugh. In truth, it was impossible not to. By her stars, with all of them as witness to her affection and lack of malice, this kid was as dramatic and as histrionic as her memories of her could recall—maybe even worse, if that was possible.
You cursed him, she thought with a sigh. Poor boy.
Then, the boy’s hands shot up towards the light that illuminated him, causing her laughter to cease, as well as all the mutters from the crowd.
"One night, after many, many years, those wings carried her up. So, so high up in the sky that she met Garlath himself. She met him, she talked to him… and do you want to know what she did after that?"
A girl—an earthblood elf—moved closer towards him. While there was obvious fear written all over face, definitely at the mere thought of a simple mortal ever facing Garlath, there was also interest.
"W—What did she do?" She asked, a bit hesitant.
"She..." He started, then paused, the silence too tense. The boy took in a deep breath, almost as if bracing himself for his own words, and he screamed, "She defeated him!"
A chorus of gasps echoed around her. Some of the elves that had been listening with rapt attention until that moment now seemed to take a few steps back from the boy, a few covering their mouths to hide their reaction.
Had he really said that…?
All she did was rest her body against the table next to her, her left hand supporting her head as a little, tired smile appeared on her face. While she knew—perhaps even better than anyone else—that this story was far from the truth, she could see it, somehow.
In the back of her mind, that scene played out as if she had witnessed it herself. Those beautiful wings that had carried her high up to the stars, that endless combat against one of the most feared characters to have ever graced the cosmos.
That smile. That wonderful smile of hers.
I did it, whispered a sweet voice in her head, one that was so familiar and so, so loved.
“She owned his troops. She became their leader and led them to victory in countless battles across the stars” The boy told the crowd, “She, all on her own, was the pride of our people, of all skywing elves. And she… she was the pride of my family”.
He smiled down at the crowd, and his voice quieted down.
With careful—very careful, she hoped—movements, he crouched down, his hands reaching to rest on the table for a moment before his entire body went after, too. He sat down, the table still his little stage.
That eager expression that he had shown throughout the story had now softened, and that enthusiastic stance he carried himself with had turned into pure calm. He seemed fine, he seemed collected, and the glimmer of that familiar innocence that she knew all too well shone in his eyes.
At times, it was easy to forget.
He was no more than a child.
With a final sentence, he finished his story, “She had reached the stars.”