Youth

Shandalar smiled as she watched her granddaughter play in the dirt, without a care in the world. So far removed from the chaos that surrounded her own escape from her homeland, hundreds of years ago. She always worked so hard to give her family the life she never got to have, but now she was nearing the end of her life, and the next generation would have to take up that burden.

"Zentha." Shandalar said as loud as she could, calling out to the younger elven woman sitting closer to Taenya. She was old, and even a shout was still barely above a whisper.

Zentha looked up, and seeing her mother wanted to talk to her, got up and came to sit next to her on the bench in the garden. Shandalar didn't say anything at first, and just continued to watch Taenya in silence, before placing her hand on Zentha's leg.

"Was I a good mother, Zentha?" She eventually asked, not looking away from Taenya.

"Mother what's this about?" Zentha asked.