Elysia
Chapter 13: Waves of Victory and Whispers in the Palace

News of the victory in the Weeping Marshes spread like wildfire. Carried by magic couriers and amplified by bards, the tale of the Heroes who split the sky with a sword of light and healed the cursed land became an instant legend. In cities and villages, people cheered in the streets. Church bells rang, not to warn of danger, but to celebrate hope. The morale of the Alliance, once fragile, was now soaring.

In the grand meeting hall in the capital of the Elven Kingdom, the leaders gathered once more, but this time the atmosphere was entirely different. The faces that were once grim were now shining with relief and pride. The maps that had been marked with red zones of danger were now beginning to be marked with the white light of victory.

"The result exceeded even our most optimistic expectations," said Commander Borin, his usually gruff voice now full of spirit. He pointed to a spot on the map. "Not only was the Behemoth defeated, the entire region of the Weeping Marshes is now clean. Reports from the forest wardens state that the water is clearing and new plants have begun to grow. The Heroes didn't just defeat an enemy; they reversed a curse."

King Theron nodded, a faint smile on his majestic face. "Those Mythic-grade weapons… their power is the power of re-creation. A perfect antithesis to Malgorath's power of ruin."

"This victory is proof that we are on the right path," said Queen Lyra. "The sacrifice we made to obtain the Crystal Amber… has been paid in full." As she said it, a flash of sorrow crossed her eyes, a reminder of the price they had paid, but she quickly hid it behind a queen's smile.

Archmage Gideon, who was standing near a window observing the stars even in daylight, added a more cautious note. "Let us not be blinded by this victory," he said. "This was the first battle. Malgorath was merely testing us with one of his lieutenants. The real fight has not yet begun. And let us not forget… the true power in this world does not rest solely in the hands of the Heroes."

Everyone in the room knew whom he meant. The shadow of a magnificent woman at the World Tree, whose power made their heroic victory seem like child's play, was always in the back of their minds.

"Is there any news from… 'her'?" one of the human generals asked hesitantly.

King Theron shook his head. "None. Since our delegation returned, there has been no contact. The patrols guarding the border of the Sacred Forest report that an impossible crystal palace has appeared at the foot of the World Tree, but no activity has been observed. It is as if the entire place is asleep. And no one dares approach uninvited."

"Let it remain that way," Archmage Gideon said. "The longer she remains uninvolved, the better. We must focus on the power we can control. Plan the next mission. We must keep pressing while the momentum is on our side."

The discussion then shifted to military strategy. They planned their assault on the next of Malgorath's strongholds, drew up formations, and allocated resources. They celebrated the dawn of their own heroic age, unaware that elsewhere, a simple conversation was taking place that might decide the fate of the world more than all their swords and sorcery combined.

Inside the Aurora Palace, the news of the victory arrived not through couriers or crystal balls, but on the whispers of the wind. Elysia could feel it—a shift in the world's emotional vibration. The collective anxiety that had been a low, static hum in the background had now been replaced by a clamorous wave of joy and hope. It was a mental noise that was, frankly, a little annoying.

She was sitting in her indoor garden, attempting to read one of the "books" from her library—a tragic epic from a long-dead star-faring civilization. But she couldn't concentrate. The wave of emotion from the outside world was like a discordant song that kept disturbing her peace.

Elina, who was sitting nearby trying to mimic the shape of a light-flower with a lump of clay Elysia had created for her, sensed her guardian's shift in mood. She saw the tiny, almost invisible frown between Elysia's brows.

"Is something wrong, Lady Elysia?" she asked, her voice still shy but braver now.

Elysia sighed, and the hologram of the stellar tragedy before her faded away. "This world… is too noisy," she said simply.

"Noisy?" Elina tilted her head. Inside the palace, all she heard was the soft sound of the silver river and the rustle of the nebula-leaves. "But it's very quiet in here."

"Not a noise for the ears," Elysia explained reluctantly. "But a noise for the soul. Out there, they are celebrating something. A small victory. They are cheering too loudly."

Elina understood immediately. She had learned from the magic library about the war against Malgorath and the role of the Heroes. "Did the Heroes win?" she asked, her eyes sparkling. Stories about heroes were her favorite.

"It would seem so," Elysia replied indifferently. "They managed to defeat one of their opponent's chess pieces. A mundane achievement, but it seems to be enough to make them ecstatic."

There was a dismissive tone in her voice, but Elina didn't catch it. She only heard that the 'good people' had won, and that made her happy. "That's good, right? It means the world is a little safer."

Elysia looked at Elina. She saw the genuine joy on the child's face for the fate of people she had never met. A pure empathy that felt utterly alien to her. After spending thousands of years where the only goal was self-preservation, the concept of 'feeling happy for the success of others' was a luxury she could not comprehend.

"Safety is an illusion," Elysia said, more to herself than to Elina. "A small victory only provokes a larger enemy to emerge from its lair. They are dancing on the edge of a cliff, unaware of how deep the abyss is."

She stood and walked to the edge of the silver river, watching the ripples of liquid moonlight. She could feel the traces of energy from the battle—the holy aura of the enhanced weapons, and the residual unmaking energy from Malgorath's lieutenant. The Heroes' power was indeed impressive for the standards of this world. But compared to what she knew was out there, it was a single candle flame trying to fight a cosmic hurricane.

She thought of Malgorath. The threat was still there. Bothering her. Sullying her world. And the people out there, with their little victory, were indirectly just accelerating the inevitable confrontation. A confrontation that would eventually, once again, disturb her peace.

Elina, sensing the seriousness in Elysia's tone, dared to approach her. She stood beside Elysia, her small figure barely reaching the ruler's waist.

"But... you are here," Elina said with the simple yet powerful logic of a child. "If there's a really big monster that the Heroes can't beat, you can beat it, right? Like when you scared away the beast in the forest."

The question made Elysia fall silent. She looked down at the little fox-kin girl who was looking up at her with complete trust. An absolute faith based not on calculations of power or political strategy, but on the simple belief that her guardian could do anything.

In Elina's eyes, she was not the Ruler of Hell or an ancient, detached entity. She was the final safety net. She was the answer to all fears.

A very strange and uncomfortable feeling arose within Elysia. That feeling was… responsibility. Something she had discarded for thousands of years. Elina, with her simple existence, had unintentionally placed an invisible crown upon her head—the crown of a Protector.

"Perhaps," Elysia answered after a long silence, her voice surprisingly soft.

She reached out her hand and, in a gesture that shocked even herself, gently stroked the top of Elina's head, her cool fingers brushing against her soft fox ears. Elina flinched in surprise at the touch, but did not pull away. The touch didn't last long, just a fleeting moment, but it was the first physical contact Elysia had ever initiated.

"Go back to your playing," she said, pulling her hand back as if she had just touched fire. "Do not think of such things."

Elina nodded, her heart feeling warm from that brief touch. She returned to her lump of clay, but her mind was no longer on it.

Elysia remained standing by the river, staring into the distance. The wave of victory from the outside world no longer felt annoying. It had been replaced by a new, far more complicated awareness. She had come to this world seeking peace from battle. But it seemed that by taking one small child as her price, she had unintentionally bound herself to the fate of this world in a way she had never wanted.

Her retirement felt further away than ever.