Lunar Elven Sanctuary, Depths of the Hollow Earth
Eleonora's transformation was almost complete. The oppressive darkness of Nyx had receded like an ebbing tide, revealing a more fragile figure, more human in her lunar elven essence, though her eyes still held the storm of eons of power and suffering. Morgana le Fay and Sorcha of the Crimson Hand watched her with a mixture of wonder and wariness. The ancient elven healer, Lyraella, continued applying luminescent balms to the last ethereal scars.
"Aria..." Eleonora's voice, softer now, tinged with a deep melancholy, broke the silence. Her gaze searched Morgana's. "You must understand... my concern for her... is not that of a mere teacher for her student."
She took a deep breath, as if preparing to unearth a long-held secret. "To understand my bond with Aria," she began, "you must meet another Eleonora. The real Eleonora."
Morgana and Sorcha exchanged a surprised look.
"She was... light incarnate," Eleonora said, a nostalgic warmth tinged her words. "Pure, wise, infinitely compassionate. I knew her long, long ago, when I myself was a young wandering sorceress, filled with ambition but also a profound loneliness, searching for a purpose beyond grimoires and power for power's sake. The real Eleonora was the guardian, the caretaker of the Umbria Orphanage—or rather, of the small, isolated refuge Umbria kept secret for children with innate and often dangerous magical gifts, those whose families couldn't, or wouldn't, understand them. It was a sanctuary of peace on the edge of Springwood, near the ancient ruins that some said connected to other worlds."
The narrating Eleonora's eyes filled with reverent wonder as she remembered. "Her magic... the magic of the real Eleonora... was like the one I now feel awakening so strongly in Aria, but mature, serene, perfectly controlled. It was special, pure like Aria's. It didn't come from the school of the elements or the complex arcane rituals Umbria taught. It was a magic that emanated directly from her spirit, an innate and harmonious connection to the Grid of Life, to the very essence of Gaia. She could calm the storms of the soul with a song, heal deep wounds of the spirit with a simple glance, and the rarest and most beautiful flowers seemed to bloom in her wake, even in the most barren land."
"And there, in that refuge of light and wisdom, was Aria. First a baby wrapped in blankets woven with moon threads, then a little girl with untamable fiery hair that seemed to capture the dawn, and green eyes that saw too much, felt too much. The real Eleonora was her grandmother. She loved her with a fierce, protective, absolute devotion. I spent many years in that refuge, first as the real Eleonora's apprentice, then as her helper and friend. And I saw Aria take her first steps, speak her first words, manifest her first uncontrollable flashes of power."
"Grandmother Eleonora knew Aria was a special being," Eleonora continued, a sad smile on her lips. "I knew her innate power was immense, perhaps even dangerous if not guided by infinite love and wisdom. I saw it too. And she, the real Eleonora, cared deeply for Aria, for she knew she was her granddaughter, the last descendant of an ancient and powerful lineage that Eleonora herself sought to protect from the shadows of the world."
Her expression darkened. "But light always attracts the darkest shadows. One day, they came. They were not magicians or any known supernatural creatures. They were men, silent, efficient, with eyes as cold as steel and armed with technology that neutralized magic. Armed men came and took the real Eleonora away. There was a struggle. She defended us, defended the children of the orphanage, with a display of raw power that shook the earth. But there were too many of them, and they were ready for her magic."
Tears, now, began to roll down the recovered cheeks of the speaking Eleonora. "I saw her fall... her light fading... and then... they took her away. She vanished without a trace, only devastation, fear, and the heartbreaking cry of little Aria calling for her grandmother."
"Her last cry was Aria's name. And her last look at me, as they dragged her away, was a silent plea, a transfer of responsibility: 'Protect her.'"
"She, the one who had sworn to protect Aria, her grandmother, was gone. And I... I was there. With Aria, a child just a few years old, terrified and alone. And with the other children in the orphanage, equally helpless."
"In that moment," Eleonora's voice cracked with emotion, "I made my own oath on the ruins of our peace. I had to take charge of the orphanage. I used all the magic I possessed, all
the knowledge the real Eleonora had taught me, to put a powerful magical protection around the place, to make it appear desolate and forgotten to the outside world, to erase it from worldly maps and magical paths, in the desperate hope that those who took Eleonora would not return for the child, for her grandmother's most precious jewel.
"I took charge of the orphanage for a time, raising Aria in isolation, trying to be the protector her grandmother could no longer be. Then, I realized I needed more power, many more allies, if I was to truly protect Aria from the forces that had destroyed her grandmother and that would undoubtedly come for her one day. It was then that my path began to deviate, when my quest for power led me to the Red Wizards, to Chaos... to becoming Nyx." She sighed deeply. "There, in Umbria, the main school where I eventually took Aria to formally train her power, I would wait for the moment, for her to become the powerful mage her lineage and spirit promised, while I, from the shadows, tried to build a shield strong enough to protect her from a world she didn't understand."
She concluded, her eyes meeting those of Morgana and Sorcha, filled with infinite sadness and unwavering love. "But before they took the real Eleonora, before my own path became so twisted, I swore to protect Aria. And as a token of the love and immense affection I had for the real Eleonora, my mentor, my friend, my sister in spirit... I took her name." So that her legacy of protection and wisdom would not entirely die. So that there would always be an 'Eleonora' watching over Umbria and, above all, Aria. And so, somehow twisted by fate and my own subsequent terrible choices, I became... the mother figure Aria knew and, I fear, the one I also betrayed in the worst possible way."
Morgana and Sorcha listened in stunned silence. The story was heartbreaking, a tragedy of love, loss, sacrifice, and sacred oaths. Now they understood the depth of this Eleonora's connection to Aria. She was no mere student; she was the living legacy of a lost love, a sacred promise, the granddaughter of the woman whose name and mantle she had taken in a desperate attempt to protect her. And that protection, they now saw, had been the hidden driving force behind many of Eleonora's actions, even in her descent into darkness as Nyx.