This was not the truth Elli Foote was looking for. Elves and wizards and fairies? The stench of a battle, barely escaped, still lingering like death in her nostrils sixteen years later? It was impossible, yet here she was, her life of lies unraveling in front of her, the spells that bound her under her father's protection, swiftly undone. He had spent her whole life making certain that she knew nothing but happiness in a world that had fought, bled, wept, and died for her. Now she had no choice but to run. Roviello Tofal would kill her for... what she is... what was born into this world with her.
Ten ages past the Fall of Humankind, the prophecy is complete. In this Eleventh Age, everything must change, for Hope Lives.