Elisa had always been close to her father. They had gone riding on the moss covered forest trails together, they went hunting, to tournaments, everything and everywhere and always together. That is why all her ladies in waiting, and the lords of the court, and all of her family treated her like a glass doll when he died.

“Poor thing. To have her father taken away like that.”

“She must be torn apart.”

They always said things like that, and she hated it.

She was fine. She could deal with this without them fawning over her and taking care of her, and watching her 24-7.

Just because her father was killed in battle didn’t mean she would fall apart! He died to protect his kingdom from invaders. It was a noble death, the way a King should leave this world. She was proud to be his daughter.

Of course they had been close. He had taught her everything she knew about fighting. He had taught her to use a sword with dexterity, to shoot an arrow with precision. But most importantly, he had taught her the greatest lesson of battle: Fight for what you believe in, and fight for those who cannot.

Even if the odds are against you, you must stay strong in order to protect what you stand for, and protect those who stand with you. Those are the only reasons you should ever kill, he had said, and she would follow his words until her death. Her father had died for what he believed in, and he died to protect his people.

And even though Elisa would never be able to ride into battle with him by her side, and even though she would never ride or hunt or train or go to tournaments with him ever again, and she would never get to listen to his laughter, or smell his smell, or anything ever again…

She refused to let herself cry when others were around, and only silently when she was alone (and that was almost never nowadays). She refused to show the weakness of tears.

She always let her impulses guide her now, because her father wasn’t there to give her advice. And while she tried hard to never kill unless it was for what she believed in or if she was protecting someone, with an impending war against the invaders who had slain her father approaching, deep within her, she knew that if she ever came upon the Archlich who had killed her father, she would have to kill it. When that moment came, she would fully surrender to the anger that would often overcome her theses days, and she would take the dagger her father had given her, and she would cut down the doomed Archlich.

She would wait for that day, and in the meantime, she would train, and get better, and ready herself to avenge her father. She would wait for that day, and when it came, she would let go, and fight.