An Elf's Tale, Finale

Why was she saying these things? 

These awful things?

These awful lies? 

"Eshwlyn, you must understand this, please…" Terra slowly, desperately spoke. More words, more lies. "Lenora now lives a fractured existence. Neither truly dying nor truly living. In death, a soul as fragmented as hers will not be inherited by the Lady Enstar. She will not accept it. So Lenora will live, but just—hollow, as a husk… a broken soul trapped inside a dead shell. And at face value… Eshwlyn, I'm sorry… she's no longer the Lenora we know." 

Eshwlyn might have heard only half of Terra's words, with the rest lost to the distant echoes of shock, denial, for the warmth she felt weighing down in her arms, the empty gaze she saw through welling eyes… indeed any moment now it'd rouse, it'd recognize… to her, that was the truth, it had to be the truth. 

Anything otherwise… it's all just more lies.