Isrilda, a Woodland Elf, ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She had just witnessed her brother's execution. She could still remember his begging for mercy, tears streaming down his face;  the blade of the guillotine shining in the sun. The sight of the blade dropping as his head fell would haunt her forever. 

     Why, she asked herself, did this horrid civil war have to ruin us? She kept on running, passing the ancient oak that grew behind the palace, ignoring every servant she ran by. Isrilda didn't stop running until she had reached her resting chambers on the 4th story of the gargantuan building. There, she locked herself in and let her tears fall. Only two days ago were her parents still alive, her uncle a free man, and her brother's head attatched to his neck.

    It had all started two years ago when Isrilda's uncle, Kinetva, had declared that he was the rightful heir to the throne and waged war on her father. Her brother, Jinas, had joined their uncle because he, too, sought after the crown. Eventually, Isrilda's father was killed in battle and her mother had taken the reigns of the country. When she won, the Court of the People decided Kinetva's imprisonment and Jinas's execution. Isrilda's mother had been so distraught that she ended her lfe the day before the execution.

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     So, here Isrilda was, crying alone, reflecting on the past. Except, she wasn't alone; her personal servant had been in the room when Isrilda had rushed in.

"My lady, what troubles you so?" Ikrinda asked.

"What do you mean 'What troubles me?' I JUST WITNESSED MY OWN BROTHER GET F$!@ING EXECUTED!" Replied Isrilda angrily.

"Apologies, your highness, I had assumed that adressing the problem would have helped."

"Nothing will ever help, Ikrinda. Nothing. No one can erase memories.Nobody can bring back the dead."

     Isrilda sat down and buried her head in her knees. Ikrinda slowly approached Isrilda and knelt beside her, fidgiting with Isrilda's brown hair in an effort to calm her. In response,  Isrilda leaned over and rested on her shoulder.

"Rest, Excellency, you have a large ceremony tomorrow."

"What for?" Replied Isrilda, drifting off to sleep.

"Your coronation as the new Empress."

At that time, Isrilda was only 16.