An elf is a forest fairy, chosen and blessed by the World Tree,  
Quick as a monkey climbing trees,  
Communing with the plants and creatures of the earth,  
Able to control elemental beings—spirits born from the same World Tree that birthed them.  
A mystical race.  

Guardians of the World Tree, those who carry out its will.  
Elena recalled a past she wished to forget.  
She remembered her father, the chief of the elven village.  
She remembered the words he had said to her.  
Words etched deep into her heart, words that urged her to carry the pride and honor of being born as an elf.  

Her father would tell her:  
“Elves are different from other beings.”  
“We are superior to them in every way.”  
“We are better than the beastfolk who can’t even control their own instincts.”  
“We are better than the forsaken half-bloods who wander the earth, rejected by both good and evil.”  
“We are better than the dwarves who do nothing but hammer away, and even more so than dragons or celestial beings.”  
“And, of course, we are superior to the humans who swarm and infest the land.”  
“There is no race greater than us elves.”  

Her father, the chief, would say this daily, seizing his daughter by the shoulders, as if trying to brainwash her with this ideology.  
He was trying to instill in her his absolute beliefs—  
Or rather, to force upon her the wretched mindset that all elves shared.  
To him, anyone who deviated from this way of thinking wasn’t a true elf.  
And as the daughter of the elf chief, born to someday lead the elves as their queen, this was the value system she was expected to adopt.  

But young Elena, an elf child who could barely speak, didn’t understand her father’s words.  
She had no idea what he was talking about.  
All she wanted was to go outside and play with her friends, but her father would stop her, saying, “Elves are great.”  
Elena tilted her head in confusion.  
The only word from her father’s speech that little Elena understood was “human.”  
And that was only because she had overheard her parents gossiping maliciously about humans over tea in the palace.  

She couldn’t understand her father’s rules.  
Elena couldn’t understand her father.  
And neither did he understand her.  
And so, she was abandoned…  

***

From time to time, her father would visit Elena.  
He put great effort into trying to implant their vile beliefs in her mind.  
But even after a year, even after ten years, Elena did not understand her father’s ideology.  
And she didn’t want to.  

Elena always wondered,  
Why do they say that elves are the smartest? Why do they say only elves should stand at the top?  
Over the decades, Elena came to know certain things. She hadn’t seen or heard that much, but still,  
There were things she had learned.  

Her friends in the forest taught her.  
They taught her what freedom meant.  
Elena listened to the stories of the flowers.  
Whenever the trees swayed, she would reach out her hand toward them.  
When it rained, rather than avoiding it, she embraced the falling raindrops.  
Elena could hear,  
And she could understand.  
The place where she was felt like a cage—  
The stories that the world whispered to her only made her own situation seem more miserable.  

And so another year passed, another ten years.  
By human standards, Elena had reached middle age. But to elves, the years she had lived were but a fleeting moment.  
The bright, curious child had slowly grown into adolescence.  
In human terms, she was still a child, one who would normally still be under parental care.  

But appearance didn’t matter.  
What mattered was that, as the chief’s daughter, Elena was now ready to come of age.  
She had become an adult.  
And with this came the resolve to finally reveal the questions and stories that had weighed on her heart to her father.  

With a bright smile, Elena shared with her father the stories that the world had whispered to her, the teachings that nature had given her.  
She ignored the look of disdain her father directed at her as if she were something filthy.  
She had long since known that he would view her poorly.  

But still, little Elena began to draw with her hands—stars, people, animals, things that did not exist in the forest where the elves lived.  
Creatures like horses with two humps, donkeys with coats that were white and the color of mud, a great cat with a golden mane,  
A desert covered in sand, with a vast pool of clean water to quench the thirst of its people.  
A salt lake with tadpoles that grew fins—  
And even giant blue tadpoles that, in some cases, were known to devour each other.  

Young Elena didn’t want to make her dreams come true.  
She knew that if she disappeared, it would cause chaos.  
But what could she do? She was born the chief’s daughter.  

She could pretend.  
She could pretend to be the good daughter, the perfect daughter, the daughter who wouldn’t cause trouble for her father. She could do it if she had to.  
Obeying her father’s commands and acting like a submissive doll wasn’t difficult for her.  
Why? Because that’s what she was born to do. Because that’s what her parents wanted.  

Elena knew.  
She knew how deep her father’s hatred for the outside world was.  
For once, she just wanted to be allowed to sulk,  
To not be told to follow her dreams,  
To not be told she didn’t have to believe.  
She wanted, just once, for her father to recognize her dream.  

As the daughter of the chief, as an elf, her dream was even less realistic than some hero saving the world.  
All she wanted was for him to acknowledge it, even if he frowned as if looking at something filthy.  

Just a single pat on the head, a word of encouragement, or even just to see her father turn his back and silently walk away would have been enough.  
She wanted to keep a single memory of being accepted by her parent, even if her dream was impossible.  

Elena wanted to become the doll her father wanted.  
But that dream—  
Smack!  
Shattered in an instant.  

Her father, who was usually indifferent to her,  
Didn’t even look at her when she asked questions or laughed as a child playing tricks.  
The love and affection of the elf chief had long since frozen over. It only showed when she was exactly the daughter he wanted—an obedient puppet.  

He was a perfect father in that sense. But still, he wasn’t the type to use violence against his wife or child.  
Or perhaps he was worse—no, he was definitely worse than a violent father. He was a piece of garbage, a scum of an elf.  

And the elf chief slapped her.  
Because she wasn’t becoming the daughter he wanted.  
Because what she said ran counter to the image he had for her.  

The chief struck his daughter. He pummeled her, bruising her pale, soft skin until it turned red and blue,  
Unleashing a lifetime of pent-up resentment on his young daughter. He punched her, stomped on her.  
Had other elves not intervened, that day, Elena would have been broken both in body and spirit.  

She had already broken, but perhaps at that moment, Elena was still in denial.  
But when she felt the malice, more evil and revolting than any demon, from the chief of elves—her father—  
Elena questioned if the figure before her was truly her father.  

If he had seen her as filth, then she had seen him as a monster.  
In that moment, they were not father and daughter but two failed creations.  

At some point, Elena’s father and the other elves faded from her sight.  
Elena, crumpled on the ground, lifted herself.  
She sat crouched, her body seemingly unable to remain upright.  

She cried silently, holding her hand over her mouth, suppressing her sobs so her father wouldn’t hear.  
She buried her face in her bruised, scraped legs and cried, endlessly.  
She didn’t want anyone to hear her, not even the elves who were known for their sharp hearing—  
And especially not her father, the elf chief, who could hear better than anyone.  

She hoped no one would hear her.  
And, in her heart, she looked to the stars, praying for a rescue.  
And so, she cried quietly for a long time.