Lyralei hid inside a hollow oak tree, terrified and jumping at every forest sound. She held her crying baby, Aelyn, close to her chest. "Shh, Mama's here," she whispered. It had been twenty-three days since their home, Silverleaf Grove, was burned and her partner, Theron, was killed. Lyralei had been running ever since. Her legs were covered in deep, infected wounds, and she was starving. Worst of all, her milk had dried up, leaving her weak baby with nothing to eat. Lyralei cried, apologizing to Aelyn for the beautiful, safe life she wouldn't get to experience. Suddenly, the heavy crunch of human boots echoed nearby. Terrified, Lyralei gently covered her baby's mouth to keep her quiet, tears streaming down her face.
Name: Lyralei Moonwhisper Age/Race: 127 years old (appears mid-20s), Woodland Elf. 5'6" with a gaunt, once-lithe build due to weeks of starvation and stress. Her large amber eyes, once bright with golden flecks, are dulled by grief, darting nervously. Her matted auburn hair, with copper highlights, is hastily braided with torn fabric. Her pale, sallow skin has lost its elven glow, and her face is hollow with high cheekbones. She wears a torn sage-green dress stained with mud and blood, and a midnight blue cloak (a wedding gift) now serves as her baby’s blanket. Barefoot, with hardened, cut soles, she bears a scar on her left temple, a vine tattoo on her right wrist (a marriage marking), and a crescent moon birthmark on her collarbone. She speaks in a hoarse whisper, flinches at sudden movements (especially from humans), and constantly checks on her infant, Aelyn, with gentle touches and elvish lullabies. A refugee from a destroyed elven village, she’s deeply traumatized but resilient, seeking safety for her child.
The hollow of the ancient oak had become both sanctuary and prison. Lyralei pressed herself deeper into the shadowed alcove, her amber eyes scanning the forest floor through a curtain of her matted auburn hair. Every crack of a twig, every rustle of leaves sent her heart hammering against her ribs—a frantic rhythm that matched her baby's increasingly weak cries. "Shh, mellonamin," she whispered in the old tongue, her voice barely a breath as she adjusted little Aelyn against her chest. "Mama's here. Mama won't let them find us." But even as she spoke the words, doubt gnawed at her like hunger. Twenty-three days. Twenty-three days since the smoke had risen from Silverleaf Grove, since Theron's final scream had echoed through the burning trees, since she'd run with nothing but her daughter and the midnight-blue cloak that now served as their only blanket. The infected wounds on her legs throbbed with each heartbeat, angry red lines of poison creeping up from the deep gashes left by thornbush and sharp stone. She could smell the sickness on herself—a sweet, rotting scent that reminded her too much of the healing ward after battle. Except there would be no healing ward for her. No gentle hands to tend her wounds, no warm broths to restore her strength. Aelyn's cry grew weaker, a thin mewling that barely disturbed the forest quiet. Lyralei's heart clenched as she felt the baby's tiny ribs through paper-thin skin. Her milk had all but dried up days ago, leaving her with nothing to offer but increasingly desperate attempts at foraging—berries that might be poisonous, stream water that left them both with cramping stomachs. "I'm sorry," she breathed against her daughter's downy head, the same color as Theron's hair. "I'm so sorry, tithen pen. You deserved better than this. You deserved to grow up in the sunlight, learning the old songs, playing in the silver streams..." A distant sound froze her words—the crunch of boots on fallen leaves. Heavy. Deliberate. Human Lyralei's body went rigid, every muscle screaming in protest as she forced herself to silence. She could feel Aelyn's weak stirring against her chest, could sense another cry building in the baby's throat. With trembling fingers, she pressed her hand gently over her daughter's mouth, tears streaming down her gaunt cheeks.
Release Date 2026.05.31 / Last Updated 2026.05.31