Snow settled after a passing blizzard struck a sizable city. The snow-capped mountain range lingered in the background of an old manor lost to time. A few icicles adorned the stone railing, matching the crystalized surface of the patio. A young Elven woman's steely eyes looked past the city limit, weeping silently. Her silver hair tied into a messy bun with fringes contoured her slender face. She was at the bedside of her ailing mother, who observed her daughter without an utterance. Her daughter's hand gripped her hand firmly, but delicately, while her attention wandered elsewhere.

The older woman had aged with youthful grace. Her soft blue eyes crinkled, paired with a widened smile upon her face. She took a deep breath as she caressed her hand. Her long gray hair flowed along with the cover of her red bedsheets. The large bed took up a decent space in the room. She looked at the young Elven woman, wondering what she thought.

"Enne," the old woman spoke with a brittle tone.

"Yes, Mother," her daughter responded with a cracked voice.

The woman met streaming tears from her daughter as she cleared her throat. Enne was the product of forbidden love, one between an Elven father and a human mother. Elves lived well beyond human years. While Enne appeared to be a young adult at sixty, her mother reached a ripe age of eighty-five.

"I know this isn't easy on you or your brother," her mother acknowledged. "But this is the way of life."

"The way of life, huh," the Elven daughter muttered.

"Your father—"

"Should be here with us, including Mathias! We should be here in solidarity!"

"Those two have always looked at the world differently. Maybe this is a way of coping for them?"

Enne let go of her mother's hand. Her mother awaited her daughter's response but met silence. Meanwhile, the young elf processed the strange differences of mortality that distinguished humans and elves. How odd was it to see your aging mother succumb to bodily dysfunction when she maintained the appearance of a young adult for decades? What kind of curse did the goddess cast upon humanity, whereas Elves lived for several millennia?

"Yeah, but how about how you feel?" Enne asked.

Her mother's wary eyes looked back, hoping to provide an answer of comfort. A warm smile came with audible laughter. The half-elf looked on as her mother regained her composure. Her light-hearted laughter usually put her at ease, melting away the insecurities of her world.

"What's so funny?"

The old woman's eyes trailed off to the frost-covered window. Beyond the glassy frame was the city she grew up in. In her condition, she wasn't able to walk, but she didn't have to; the memories of her youth lingered fresh in her mind. The good times, the bad times, the transitions of life she had the privilege to live through. Enne didn't rush her mother, knowing her mind drifted.

"I wonder why is it that I don't feel anything," her mother answered. "Considering I'm at death's door. I've lived a long life, more than I could've ever imagined. I've served the community and made it better. But my greatest accomplishment was you and Mathias. A part of me lives on with you two and your children too. Death isn't the end. It is just a part of a cycle."

"If only we could break that."

"And what for, dear?"

"So no one has to feel hurt over losing someone they love. No one thinks about it until it hits."

"What is life without pain or trial?"

The young elf glanced at her mother, finding a sense of peace in her eyes. She wasn't afraid of the inevitable, but she knew the mask she wore was deceiving. The elder was filled with dread and doubt. What awaited her beyond the physical senses of life? Was it an end or a new beginning? Such was life, a bundle of mysteries, where there were more questions raised than answered.

"The best of us arise when we challenge ourselves," her mother answered. "Death should not stop us from achieving what we want. Imagine if your father didn't continue to lead the city? What if he wandered the world after arriving from his home world? We would've never met. You and Mathias wouldn't be here."

"I...suppose you're right," her daughter bowed.

"Am I?"

"You speak from experience. You've lived a much different life than I had. I'll never know what it is to grow up hungry or worry about warmth and shelter. From where I stand, I come from a life blessed with privilege. I can exist without a worry in the world."

"That's where you're misled. You're ripe with your own experiences, and maybe you'll see things beyond my world. Your experiences will outshine mine because you'll see the world in a much different light."

"That's...not true. I still have a lot to learn."

"That's the attitude I like."

"Huh?"

She raised her head to see her mother's wrinkled smile.

"Everyone experiences hardship on their own terms. Not everything has to be a physical challenge. It's certainly a mental affair. You can see when someone is tired or hungry, but it's harder to tell how they feel unless you really take the time to observe them. Right now, you're staying strong, but I'm sure you're a mess inside."

"And you're not?"

"Well, of course, I am. I am on my deathbed after all."

"You aren't acting like it."

"It just comes to a full circle. I'm done with all the pain and hardship. My only concern is my family and how they'll cope without me. That's where it really hurts. I've seen you two grow up to be fine young adults."

Her mother nodded as her smile wavered under the trail of tears along her age-spotted cheeks. She wiped them away with loose sleeves, drafting against her frail forearms. Enne was reminded of the fragile life of a human. She thought it to be unfair that the goddess would favor one race over the other. How was this equality when they were all the goddesses' children?

"People come and go," Her mother continued. "It's more of the reason to cherish these moments we have with one another. This pain reminds us of how important bonds are. I remember how bossy you were as a child—"

"M-Mother," Enne flushed to her mother's chuckle.

"What? I always found it charming. You haven't changed a bit, always going off and doing your own thing. For the good of the community."

"You taught me to be a civil member of society. One shouldn't squander one's potential."

Her mother nodded.

"Then, I did my job as a parent."

The half-elf's smile couldn't overcome the set frown she had. Her mother worked her entire life to ensure a prosperous outlook in the quiet city they resided. Enne looked toward the city, wondering what the future held. She knew one day her father would pass too, leaving the city in the hands of her brother and herself. Her mind raced with different perspectives, but she knew she would have to take the mantle. Her mother sensed the uneasiness within her daughter, whose downcast eyes searched for meaning.

"Enne," she spoke, meeting her daughter's eyes. "You'll do fine without me."

"How can you say that?" she asked with a trembling voice. "You make it seem like this is nothing—like it won't hurt me to see you go. You expect me to take this with stride?"

"Acceptance. Acceptance of what is and whatever shall be. If I could live any longer, who could take charge then?"

Her daughter's eyes glanced away, conceding to the point.

"Life and death grants opportunities for a different perspective, for better or worse. That is why I've always stressed about doing my best to set an example for you and Mathias. Being a leader isn't about basing things on metrics or delegating, but compassion. The world looks at you differently because you look a little different. And so what? No one has a monopoly on building a community. To me, you'll always be my beloved daughter."

"Even in the face of uncertainty, you always find something positive."

"Makes it all the more bearable, don't you think?"

Enne nodded as her body tensed. She withheld her tears, but her mother wanted to discourage it. Experiencing one's emotions was the most crucial thing to understand the world around them. This was how her mother chose to reign since she grew up in harsh conditions. The city was no paradise before the Elven lord arrived. He was cold and cruel, but it wavered in the face of her southern charm.

"Strength is being able to feel your emotions, Enne," she reminded.

Her daughter didn't answer.

She wanted to find peace in her mother's dying days. She wondered how anyone could accept fate, but she missed most of her mother's point. Enne looked upon her mother's frail hands, imagining reaching an age like that. Although her father was thousands of years old, he looked like someone in their early fifties. She wondered what the future would hold, what her legacy would be once she reached an advanced age. But the thought of losing people she loved as she advanced far beyond human years terrified the young half-elf.

Her hands trembled, but her mother reached out to hold her hand. Its warmth provided comfort that escaped her while Enne observed the deterioration of her mother's health. The young woman cried by her mother's bedside. The ailing mother caressed her hand with a heavy heart.

The fear went away for a moment.

"Just let it out," her mother insisted, meeting her daughter's watery eyes. "It's—"

"No." She lifted her head. "No. No, I can't. I won't see you again!"

Her mother paused, seeing the surprising ferocity in her silver eyes.

"Maybe I'm selfish. I never put myself first when it comes to those I love."

"I-I'm sorry, I—"

"It's okay. Your anger isn't misplaced, especially when things aren't in our control. I should be more—"

The frail woman's gaze looked upon the clouded window once more, seeing the gray skies. Her eyes sought something of comfort, acknowledging her daughter would heal with time. She knew there weren't any words that could soothe the impending sorrow. The frail woman reflected as her daughter buried herself in her bedsheets, weeping silently. Death was at her door, but she didn't fear it. She watched her daughter blossom into a strong young woman who stood proudly. She followed in her mother's footsteps, albeit brasher than she. That was Enne, her daughter.

As a mother, she had done all she could.

"In the end," her mother's voice shook, "I've lived a good life, a fulfilling one. I wouldn't trade it for anything. The time we've shared, watching over you...I'd do it all over again—given the chance. Someday, you'll have your own children, and maybe you'll understand that better. It sounds strange to say, but being a mother wasn't something I ever looked forward to."

Enne slowly looked up to find her mother's tears, one of unmistakable joy. She leaned into her mother, embracing her with a hug. She didn't want to let go but knew that she would have to. As her mother was ready to let go, she knew her daughter would become the person she had to be. She feared that her responsibilities would anchor her as Enne always looked up to her. This was her life and no one else.

"Enne, please live your life the way you see fit," her mother said. "Never forget to find the spark within you that gives you joy. Duty can only fulfill so much. Nobody is born a guardian of a city—that's too cruel of a destiny. It's your life. Don't you forget."

Her daughter choked, withholding her response. She reached out to wipe the tears away from her silver eyes. Her wavering smile remained as she thought about the future. Enne held her mother's hand close, not wanting to let go. Time would tell when her mother would depart, but her heart couldn't bear the sight.

"I'll be gone," she thought aloud. "But, you'll carry on."

"Without you," her daughter responded.

"No, I'll always be within your heart."

Her daughter processed what she said, understanding her perspective. She set her mother's hand down as she collected herself. The moment pained her, but she knew she had to accept the vicious cycle of life. No amount of tears would change the outcome. The young woman had to face reality—as her mother told her in the past.

"People only ever truly die when you forget them. Don't you forget that. No matter where you are in life, I'll always be there as that inner voice, a reminder of what's right and wrong. Even when I'm gone, just know a mother's love is there."

Enne gripped the hem of her dress. She realized she had no more tears as her silver eyes looked upon the set of blue eyes in front of her. The half-elf cracked a faint smile after taking a deep breath, a smile that surprised her mother. It was a rare sight, but she knew her daughter accepted what she said.

"Promise me one thing." Her mother smiled back.

"What's that?"

"Smile more often. Not seeing you scowl is a real treasure."

"I will."