The words hit like a spark in a powder room.
A chorus of gasps rippled through the elves, whispers filling the air.
Luna and Lulu exchanged confused looks.
"Hero...summoning?" Luna whispered. "What's that?"
This time, it was Leona who answered, her voice low and uncertain.
"She mentioned it." She admitted. "A year ago, perhaps more. At the height of the war with the humans, when our defenses were failing."
"Some of the other races suggested summoning a Hero—a being from another world who could turn the tide and my mother told me that it was a really good idea"
"But I rejected it." Her fingers tightened around her bow. "I knew the cost of doing something like that and that's why as the current matriarch, I forbade her from bringing it up again."
Her eyes hardened again.
"But...why are you bringing that up now?"
But as she asked, something clicked in her mind.
Her pupils widened, realization dawning like a cruel sunrise.
"No." She whispered. "You don't mean—"
Luca nodded slowly.
"Yes." He said. "Your mother didn't vanish into the human lands, or on some mysterious pilgrimage."
"She went with the other leaders of the world—the dragons, the dwarves, the beastkin, all of them to perform the summoning."
His eyes met Leona's as he spoke the final words.
"She went to summon the hero to save you all."
The words echoed through the forest like a thunderclap.
For a moment, nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
And then like a wave crashing over the treetop bridges, gasps rippled through the elven ranks.
"A hero…? Did he say a hero?" One whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.
"She went to ask the Goddess for a savior?" Said another, trembling.
"I've never heard of such a ritual." An older elf murmured, clutching her chest.
Someone else replied. "It's only ever performed in the most desperate of times...when a whole world is on the brink."
Another voice whispered hoarsely. "But to summon a hero...all the karmic luck of those involved must be sacrificed. Their very life force offered to the heavens."
"I can't believe the Grand Matriarch would do something like that." Another elf said, his voice breaking. "She...She always told us there were other ways. But I didn't think she would choose something like this."
The whispers swirled through the air like a rising storm. Dozens of elves turned to one another, their disbelief and sorrow mounting by the second.
Meanwhile, Luna and Lulu stood stiff, realization dawning on their faces. The puzzle pieces fit together now—the sudden disappearance, the mysterious farewell letter, the talk of salvation.
Their grandmother...had left to summon a hero.
But while the others were whispering, their voices caught between sorrow and awe—
—Leona stood in silence.
Her bow lowered slowly. Her fingers clenched around the grip so tightly that her fingers were digging into the wood.
Her lips parted faintly, and her usually steady breath quivered as if the air itself had turned too heavy to breathe.
Because she knew.
She knew exactly what it took to summon a hero.
She knew the cost.
And that was what terrified her.
Her sharp, cold blue eyes—the same eyes that had once pierced through Luca—were now unfocused, flickering with something far more fragile than fury.
Sadness. Fear. Grief.
Right beside her, Nyx was equally silent.
The faint composure she'd managed to regain had crumbled the moment she understood what Luca meant. She bit her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, her eyes shadowed with anguish.
Leona finally spoke.
"…The hero."
She said quietly, her words quivering as if her mouth refused to form them.
"H-Has the hero been successfully summoned?"
Every ear turned toward Luca.
He looked up, solemn, and nodded once.
"Yes."
The reaction was immediate. Gasps. Murmurs. Eyes wide in astonishment.
"He was summoned...truly summoned?"
"Then it worked? A hero from another world has come?"
"A savior...someone to end the war?"
Even among a people known for their composure, emotions ran wild.
Hope, disbelief, awe...it flickered through every face.
But not Leona's.
While her people whispered of salvation, her gaze was locked on Luca, her voice breaking softly as she asked the one question that truly mattered to her.
Her tone was no longer commanding. It was pleading.
"…And my mother?"
Her words wavered in the air like a dying flame.
"...What happened to her?"
She wanted him to deny it. She wanted him to say she was wrong—that her fears were baseless.
That her mother was alive and safe, somewhere far away.
But Luca's expression told her everything before he even opened his mouth.
He looked at her with quiet pity.
"I'm sorry."
He said at last, his voice calm but heavy.
"Your mother, along with the other leaders of every race sacrificed their lives to summon the heroes."
"They gave everything they had—body, soul, and spirit to call forth the power that could save this world."
He paused, then added softly,
"They are with the Goddess now."
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then the forest wept.
"T-The Grand Matriarch...she's gone?"
"She's dead?!"
"No...No, it can't be…"
Dozens of elves dropped their bows at once, the sound of wood hitting the floor echoing through the trees. Others fell to their knees, trembling.
Tears streamed freely down their faces as sobs broke out among the gathered ranks.
"The Grand Matriarch...the Mother of the Grove...she's gone…" One of them wept, her voice cracking.
"W-What will we do now?" Another choked out, pressing a hand over her heart.
It was as though the soul of the village itself had been struck down.
Many of the elves leaned against the thick trunks for support, their strength leaving them. Others covered their faces, their tears soaking into their palms.
The sorrow spread like wildfire, consuming them one by one.
And it was no mystery why.
The Grand Matriarch had been more than just a ruler.
She was a symbol—the lifeline of their people.
For over two centuries, she had led them with wisdom and grace, guiding them through war, famine, and exile.
She was gentle, yet unshakable; strict, yet compassionate.
Every elf, young or old, had some memory of her kindness—her soft laugh, her healing touch, her endless patience.
To learn that she had given her life for them...was unbearable.
On the platform, Luna's legs gave out as she fell to her knees, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"No…" She whispered, shaking her head. "No, it can't be true...it can't…"
Her voice broke as she pressed her hands to her chest.
"Grandmother...you promised...you said you'd come back soon…"
Beside her, Lulu tried to smile, but it was trembling and wet with tears.
"N-No." She said softly, shaking her head again and again, as though denial could erase the truth. "He's lying...he has to be lying."
"Grandma's immortal...she's lived for so long. There's no way she's gone…"
Her words cracked at the end, her voice fading into sobs.
Nyx's composure finally broke.
Without hesitation, she crossed the platform and wrapped her arms around both of them, pulling the girls into her chest. Luna buried her face in her aunt's shoulder, sobbing, while Lulu clung tightly to her other side.
Nyx held them close, one hand stroking Luna's hair, the other gently cradling Lulu's back.
"Shh...it's alright...it's alright…" She whispered. "She loved you both, you know. More than anything. She did this for you."
But even as she tried to soothe them, her body shook. Her tears fell silently onto their hair as she held them tighter.
But Leona—Leona stood alone.
Her bow dropped from her hand, falling soundlessly against the wood beneath her feet. Her hands clenched into trembling fists as her expression twisted between fury and grief.
"I told her…" She whispered, her voice trembling with rage. "I told her not to do it."
Her voice rose, cracking under the weight of pain.
"I told her as the current matriarch not to do it! I knew what would happen! I knew the cost!"
Her breathing grew uneven.
"But she still went! She still went with them!"
Her shoulders shook violently, and then—finally—the mask broke.
Tears streamed down her face. The coldness that had defined her melted away, leaving behind the raw, unguarded sorrow of a daughter mourning her mother.
She tried to speak again but could only whisper hoarsely.
"Why didn't you listen to me…"
She covered her face with a trembling hand, her tears glinting under the sunlight.
And below, Luca watched silently.
He didn't interrupt. He didn't speak.
He simply stood there, his expression quiet, solemn.
He too had met the Grand Matriarch—though only for a short time.
He didn't even know her name.
But in those brief moments, he had seen her strength, her warmth, her compassion. She had been the first to look at him not as a monster or invader, but as someone summoned—as the hero she had given everything to bring into this world.
She had smiled at him before the light took her, a smile that carried centuries of love and burden.
And now, seeing her people mourn her, Luca finally understood just how deeply she had been loved.
He took a deep breath and looked down, closing his eyes.
"This..." He thought. "...is what she died to protect."
So he said nothing. He let the elves cry. He let them grieve.
Because even for a hero...there were some wounds he knew only time could heal.