My Queen is dead.

I was the first to find her broken body, laying on top of a perfect replica of herself. Oh, how her burned and twisted form made my heart ache and my bones quiver. No sight could be more horrific. More terrible and vile than even the worst of our enemies.

I do not remember how the fight ended. One moment I was engaged in glorious combat with a worthy enemy with my greatest allies at my side, and the next I was waking up to a green sun rising over the horizon.

We held a funeral that day. It was a small thing, not worthy of someone so grand. But my lover says it's what she would have wanted, and she always knew My Queen better than I.

We've lost so much, nearly everything. And though our enemies are dead and gone we still need to rebuild.

It is what my queen commanded of me.

The forest cast us out after that, it was grieving the only thing it ever loved.

And now we rebuild in a new home. Our people are scattered now, our homeland has been cut off from us, but we can form a new homeland. We can rebuild.

My Queen will be back, of this I have no doubt. I want to present this world to her when she returns. Nothing short of perfection is acceptable.

It may take decades or even centuries, but it will be done.