[Tamriel Kingdom, Alfheim.]
The World Tree.
The pride of the elves glowed softly over the city as its branches loomed over.
The once enormous tree now looked like the shell of its past self.
Leaves that once shimmered like stars now hung dull, faded, and few.
A huge crack ran through the main branch, that almost split the tree into two.
Its broken and unpaved self remained clear for everyone to see.
The elves were now aware the tree they worship doesn't have long to live.
Below the shade of the tree stood the royal palace of the elves.
And inside the main hall chamber paced the current Queen Pasithea.
Her long blonde hair fell behind her, reaching her knees.
Her meadow-green eyes remained dull and faded.
Being the queen for six months, she had been turned far more mature.
Her way of living changed and so did she, in every way she felt like a new person.
"Can you stop walking around." A voice made her stop in her tracks. "You are making too much noise."
