The midsummer evening breeze swept over mountains and forests, stirring the rustle of leaves across this lush land. Yet to elven ears, these sounds of nature carried not the slightest annoyance, only peace and serenity.
The aged elf stood atop the mountain, gazing into the distance as he had for countless centuries. He watched this ancient empire gradually sink into tranquility beneath the glow of the setting sun. The rolling mountains, forests, and river valleys were almost exactly as he remembered them... Nothing about this land had changed, yet in another sense, it had long since become utterly unrecognizable to him.
From that day three thousand years ago onward, this had no longer been the homeland he knew.
The apprentice fell silent, seemingly deeply moved by his mentor's words. Yet the intense emotions surging through the young elf's heart finally made him break that silence. "So even though you knew Her Majesty never intended to let you return, you still..."
"She needed closure—both emotionally and logically, that closure had come far too late," the old man said with what seemed like a faint smile, his tone as calm as if he were discussing someone else's affairs. "No matter how much of the news she brought back from that so-called 'alliance' was true or false, the moment she decided to see me in person and arranged a journey to the Northern Kingdoms for me, the outcome was already decided. If it was all lies, then those lies could only have been intended to eliminate a dissenter like me, one who had remained stubborn for three thousand years. And if everything she said was true..."
The old man suddenly stopped. Something flickered in his eyes, as though he were recalling events from an ancient age, until all those memories finally condensed into