Morning Glory

She's a half-elf. But she's a woman. And she's a religion. But she's a lie. And she's a spirit. But she's a tree. And she's a shadow—but she's his to keep.

It's a collision course of past and present—and this is the way it wasn't meant to be.

Yuan brushes by her grove, and stops to watch her sapling grow. To think, that she'd be the one to outlive them all in the end. To think, Martel could be watching him right now.

He brushes her green leaves with guilty hands.

I'm here, he says, but he's no longer needed.