“Many cultures instill a sense of respect for the elderly to their young. Personally though, even as an elderly that benefitted from such a culture, I tend to disagree with it. Respect should be *earned* through one’s own deeds, not simply given because one was simply on the lucky end and lived longer than others.

All this sort of culture often results in is a bunch of entitled elders pushing youngsters around by the virtue of their age.” - Aideen deVreys, the Silver Maiden, circa 601 FP.

When they arrived at the central region of the forest, Aideen was surprised to see an old, infirm figure who was carried on a chair with poles attached to its sides, allowing for a pair of strong youths to carry it as part of the welcoming party. She hurriedly walked towards the old woman, whose late age was obvious from the heavy wrinkles of her body, which was already hunched over and rather shrunken with age as well.

The old woman was Matron Fareesa, Drietven’s mother whom Aideen first met when the elves of the forest submitted to the Lichdom over two centuries ago. She was nearing a millennium of age by now, which not many elves reached, and was most likely in the last few years or so of her life. That she made the effort to come out to greet Aideen was a touching gesture for her.

“Matron,” greeted Aideen politely as she walked over to where the youths had placed the chair, on the front row of the welcoming party. She received the old matron’s shaky hand, which she raised with notable difficulty, tenderly within her hands, and naturally revolved her magic to see if she could help with the old matron’s age-induced woes.

There were a few ailments that Aideen managed to at least improve a bit on, but for the most part, the matron was just too old, and her time was approaching. There was little she could do against that, other than to keep the old matron constantly under the effects of her healing like what she did with Artair on his last days.

A smile and a solemn shake of the head from the old matron also made her stance on the matter quite clear to Aideen, and everyone around.

“Thank you, milady, but this old one’s time is nearing its end. It is fine. Such is the way it should be. Life gives, and life takes. I have lived for nearly a thousand years, definitely more than long enough for me to have a good life,” said the old matron with a toothless smile to her. “I’m at peace with death, I’ve lived well enough, and saw my descendants live better lives than ever before. I am content.”

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“Then be at peace, matron,” replied Aideen with an understanding nod. The old matron still had maybe a couple years left in her, probably more with the little bit of healing Aideen did just now. Definitely less than a decade, though. “And thank you for taking the trouble to welcome me. I would have visited either way, you know?”

“You are the benefactor’s favorite granddaughter, milady. It’s the least this old one could do to show her respect for the aid that the benefactor has given our people,” said matron Fareesa with a shake of her head. Her hair had also grown sparse and thin over the years, the strands that remain a pale colorless shade, rather than the more vibrant white shade her descendants had.

Elves, like orcs and merfolk, generally live most of their life in their prime years. Rather than grow old gradually, aging tends to take their kind more rapidly in the last bits of their lives. For an orc, that was typically a period of five or less years, while merfolk decay over a decade and a half or so. Elves tend to age gradually once they start to hit their sixth century, with signs of age being more visible around their eighth.

It was only in the final couple decades or so of their lives that their physical condition truly deteriorated with age, to the point that it affected their daily lives.

By comparison, humans, goblins, and dwarves all had their primes earlier on, before they started to age gradually. For humans and goblins, that prime tends to be from their teenage years until they reach their thirties, forties for some. Dwarves typically consider themselves in their youthful prime until they were in their third century or thereabouts, but they also age slowly and gracefully compared to humans and goblins, due to their longer lifespans.

Celia stood to the side during the rather solemn exchange, as she caught on from the atmosphere that it was more of a personal thing. It was only as they were led to the city that Aideen explained to her the matron’s identity, that she was Drietven’s mother, and thus in some ways also distantly related to Aideen through Mimia.

Drietven was a figure Celia naturally remembered, as the elf who served as the Bone Lord’s head butler was unmistakable, and by this point, looked as if he was born for such a role. Drietven was starting to show his age as well, as he was approaching his seventh century by then, but was still in good health otherwise. All things going well, he should still have another two to three centuries of life ahead of him.

The two followed the elves up a ladder that was seemingly carved into the side of a large tree at times, while the tree itself formed steps out of its knots and bumps at other times, until they reached a large platform supported by the branches of the large tree as well as several other nearby trees, woven together beneath their feet.

From that point of vantage, the beauty of the elven city, itself looking as if it had always belonged to the forest as part of it, became obvious, the way their buildings seemed to mesh with nature itself, even the large buildings built on larger platforms between several trees. Everything looked as if they were intended to be there by nature itself.