"I'm just going to come out and say it. Our situation is dire. Morale is suffering, supplies are dangerously low, and if we take in any more refuges, were going to be sleeping on top of each other."

With a deep sigh, Wilran stared hard at the female sitting across the table from her. The elf was a sad soul, knocked from glory. Her brilliant green eyes were highlighted by a fair skin that likely were the object of many a male suitor at once point in time. However, the once proud elf had now been completely mutilated by two large scars that ran down her forehead through her nose, and halfway down her check. Some might have considered the disfigurement fortunate that it missed her eyes all together, but Wilran knew it bothered the elf, much more than she let on.

In the six months Wilran had been at the refugee camp, she had got to know the battle-hardened lieutenant formally of the Goldale army. While it was true the two of them often butted heads on the best direction of the Saintians under their care, she had considered the female friend. Over time, their differences had evolved into a mutual respect, and amidst the chaos of the camp, they found camaraderie in their shared determination to protect and care for the people.

"What do you suggest Elineia? Asked a voice to Wilran's right. "Clayborn is already teeming, beasts openly raid the countryside, and I'm sure the other camps and cities are suffering a similar fate."

This time, it was the voice of Prince Elaneiros of Clayborn who spoke. Elaneiros was the second son of King Starmoon and the only one of the three princes Wilran had ever interacted with before. It was through him she first met the Prophetess and began her journey almost six completions ago. Since then, it had been a whirlwind of adventure that led her from joining Elite Team One, falling out of favor with Lilith, becoming a follower Chandeidra, joining a sisterhood, and being baptized as the Goddess's chosen prophet. She might not have had prophetic powers like the Prophetess Delphi, but she proclaimed the gospel of Chandeidra to all she came in contact with.

"Selmarah?" Elineia suggested. "The fishermen there may not be able to take them, but it's possible they could ferry the refugees to one of the smaller islands off the coast. I've received reports from my contact there the locals have been teaching them survival skills; something we should be improving upon our own. If the islands are full, it might be possible to ship them to the Beachwick or Swampspell. Wilran? Aren't you headed in that direction soon?"

"Yes," Wilran replied, but offered nothing more. She was headed to the Beachwick, but wasn't exactly excited at the prospect of taking refugees with her. Normally, she wouldn't have minded. She loved serving at the feet of the Goddess, but now she was feeling rather selfish.

Chandeidra can't I have a single moment not burdened by the sorrows of the world? I miss my sisters. It's been so long, more than a completion. Just this one thing? Magical communication isn't the same, not even close!

It was through Wilran's magic she had been able to keeps tabs on the three she had come to call sister. Einkidi, the newest of the three, was busy raising her two younglings and assisting in the efforts to reinforce the magical protections on the city of Wildehaven. Many of the wizards in Wildehaven's Ministry of Wizardry were sent to protect the Goldale Spire against the goblin attack three completions ago. They had been specifically situated in various places inside the Spire to hit large groups of goblins in case they made their way into the city. However, the city fell with little survivors save a few thousand citizens who managed to escape before the attack. No one was quite sure what caused the city to collapse into the sea, but eye witnesses reported a purple haired elf raining down fire and lightning from above.

But I knew, Wilran thought as she played the events leading up to its destruction over and over in her head. Even now she could feel that something was coming. An unknown feeling was telling her Adreanna was getting ready to make her final play. If we don't stop her soon, surely all of Sainta will perish.

"I'm headed that way myself," said the voice to Wilran's left. "There is a wedding in the Beachwick I plan to attend. I can escort any refugees there personally."

That was a surprise to Wilran. From what she could tell from her time in the refugee camp, she assumed she would have been the only one.

"Bride or groom?" Wilran asked studying the man. He was an older human male whose hairs had already started to gray. He wore chainmail that looked older than him, but it was obviously kept in good condition. However, what struck her the most was his face. It was vaguely familiar. There was something about it that told her a story of battles and experience far beyond his completions.

"Groom," he responded. "We're old friends."

With a sudden recognition, Wilran now realized who the man was and mentally smacked her head.

Of course, Commander Will of Elite Team One. He would have known Thepa and the groom.

"Bidant?" she asked with a wisp of a smile. "He saved my life once."

Will returned it with one of his own. She half expected his teeth to be yellowed, but surprisingly found them to be in good condition. "Mine too. We didn't get along in the beginning. Old prejudices die hard."

Wilran returned the smile widening her lips. She knew the feeling all too well. It was only within the last few completions race relations between the elves and the humans had started to improve. She never understood what all the fuss was about between the two species, but she was spared its bark having spent her time in the reserve. Fortunately, war had a funny way of breaking down superficial barriers.

"That they do."

Will continued. "Do you know the bride? I must say I'm curious to meet her. I hear she's the current High Priestess of Chandeidra."

The mention of her human sister brought a warm feeling to her heart. She loved all her sisters dearly, but she was the most excited to see Gamma. "We're quite close. I'm eager to see her again."

Of the three of her sisters, Gamma had been the busiest. Not too long after the city of Goldale fell, the two of them made their way back to the temple of Chandeidra in Wildehaven. Their plan was to report on what had happened to Rory and discuss future plans with the followers there. However, the moment the two of them arrived they were ambushed by the archpriest in full ceremonial garb. In his hand he held a letter from the Prophetess explaining Gamma's divine appointment and her own prophetic commission. Wilran tried to object, but Gamma grabbed her by the shoulder, then wordlessly nodded until she nodded back. Afterwards, a short ceremony was held making Gamma the high priest and her a prophet much to her embarrassment.

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Fortunately, fate spared her from further humiliation. Following the ceremony, three servants were immediately assigned to Gamma and quickly escorted the two of them off. Then they were led through the most luxurious rooms Wilran had ever seen. There, she gasped in astonishment when each increasing comfort was revealed.

"Have you ever seen something so luxurious?" Wilran asked, eyes full of wonder.

"I have..." Gamma replied beat red. Hundreds of books, magical weapons, armor, and clothing graced every inch of Gamma's new dwelling. At first Wilran stared on in amazement as the three acolytates gabbed on about some of the history of the rooms, but once Gamma finished her sentiment she winced in shared awkwardness. "...I did the same thing to Rory. I now know how she must have felt."

It was during their trip Wilran learned more about the gift Chandeidra had given her in the frozen north. Every follower of Chandeidra was adorn in a huge display of various colors that pelted her irises. From the dim light of the acolytes to brightest of Gamma and the archpriest, Wilran saw various shades of blue, yellow, red, white, and orange across the smiling faces that greeted her. Their auras reminded her of the northern lights and as she saw them, they left her with a great desired to return to the cabin and enjoy its company.

"If we have any hope of winning the war, it's because of that young lady," said the final voice at the table.

"Why's that, Minister Goodshadow?" Will asked.

Minister Goodshadow was a middle-aged halfling with short brown hair and the head the size of a medium shaped ball. Wilran had met the halfling briefly during her prophet ceremony, but it wasn't until she started attending the camp's status meetings she got the opportunity to know him.

"As soon as she took the position, she sent almost all the clerics and paladins under her order into the field. "Help the unfortunate; share the will of Chandeidra, heed the prophet's call." Everywhere I go, I find her followers doing just that. The camp in the Meric Mountains is single-handily built and run by the followers of Chandeidra."

True, Wilran thought. Gamma has been busy. Makes it easy for me to do my job. Please continue to bless her my glory divine.

The Prince laughed. "Well, we should get her here to run this place when it's all said in done. Maybe she can delay her honeymoon and come help us out."

The others joined in the laugher, but for good measure, Wilran objected. "Better not. That woman is selfless to a fault. She would do it."

Goodshadow nodded. "Quite true. Mistress Deeprabbit has told me she is the first to wake and the last to sleep. If anyone needs some R&R time it's her."

"Anyway," said Elinera as she tapped her fingers on the table. "Even if Wilran and Will can escort some refugees away, that only delays our problem. It does not fix it. We are still having morale and supply problems. Many of those in our care are malnourished or unskilled. We're going to need more Saintians going on hunting and gathering parties, which means more training and more resources for protection. My people are stretched pretty thin as it is."

The Prince stood up and adjusted his belt. "My caravan leaves for Clayborn upon completion of this meeting. I'll have weapons and armor sent immediately. I can't promise any bodies, but I'll see what I can do."

Wilran watched her friend's eyes sparkle as she and the Prince exchanged a sheepish look. Almost smirking, she wondered if there was something there.

Elineia and Elaneiros...a match made in paradise.

Will stood as well. "I believe Lightmount can help with training. General Todla of the Golden Scout Bigrade made the journey with me to assess the camp's situation. I will make sure she stays behind for a few weeks to find willing and able bodies that could meet your request. They won't be soldiers, but they should be able to hold their own against a few orcs and goblins.... unless of course you want General Nel. I'm sure she could whip these citizens into shape."

A shiver ran down Wilran's spine as flashes of her own training ran through her head. Definitely not. Those pour souls would beg for goblin death after Nel got her hands on them.

"Thank you..." Elineia responded as she turned her head towards Will then Elaneiros. "Both of you. It's good to know that even in the worst of times Saintian kindness has not lost its spirit. We will watch for your supplies, but I imagine unless things change, we will not need to meet again for a month or so. Please keep in touch and we will do our best to hold down the camp. May your god or goddess protect you until we meet again."

The three males of the room bowed and took their leave leaving Wilran alone with Elineia. She watched for a moment as her friend shifted through her papers, fingering the edges to make the sure the pages were in order. When she finished, Wilran stood and moved to a chair closer to her.

"May your god or goddess?" Wilran spoke suppressing a smile. "Have I finally reached your heart?"

Elineia looked up from her papers and smiled. From here Wilran could see how deep the scars really ran. Once more, she could see that the cracks troubled the poor elf greatly. In that moment she greatly hoped maybe there was something between her friend and the Prince. The heart may appreciate beauty pass the skin, but the mind was as shallow as a rain-soaked footprint on a stone path.

"Added effect. Given the gravity of the situation, I thought I might appeal to an authority higher than my own."

Wilran sat back and her chair and sighed. She appreciated what Elineia was doing for the refugees, but her friend was her own worst enemy. It had been five completions since the fall of Goldale and the former lieutenant still had not gotten over her own failure in protecting the city. Despite the fact Elineia was quite successful in running the camp practically by herself, it could have gone a lot smoother if she moved passed her own self-imposed iniquities. It was one of the reasons Wilran pushed the teachings of Chandeidra to her friend harder than anyone. If anyone needed hope, it was Elineia.

"Don't sell yourself short. You were a lieutenant in the Goldale army.

"That was largely due to Captain Th...I mean Thepa's influence.

She countered, "Thepa believes in you too."

The elf sighed heavily and threw her hands up into the air stretching them in the process. A yawn escaped her mouth, and it was then Wilran realized Elineia was tired; tired and frustrated.

"How is Thepa anyway? It would be nice to see her. Have you heard from her lately?"

Thepa might not have been as busy as Gamma, but she certainly had her hands full. When it became clear that Swampspell could not take in the number of refugees due to the space their hidden home contained, Thepa had come up with a plan to extend the Beachwick. Using the full weight of the matriarchy, her satyr sister had the city walls of her home land extended all the way passed the clearing as far as the tree line. Once protection had been established, Thepa commissioned the matrons to build thatch huts and tents.

It had been decreed, with a little convincing from the council of Sisters, there would be an old and a new Beachwick. As a compromise, only females would be allowed inside the walls of the Old Beachwick, while everyone else was welcome inside the safety of the new. Between their own refugees and the new building projects, Wilran knew Thepa should have been exhausted and over worked. She didn't know how her sister found time for Bitty at all.

"It's been a week since I've last heard from her. Most of my recent message spells have been to Gamma about the wedding. She keeps changing details over the ceremony. I think she's worried the whole thing is going to blow up in her face. The last time I talked to Thepa she was just about to head into some meeting in the jungle. The message kept getting cut off because her da..."

Suddenly, Wilran stopped and stared around the tent.

Something's not right.

The air in the tent instantly shifted and the temperature dropped a few degrees below normal. Elineia must have sensed it too, because without speaking, her friend stood, drew her sword, and darted to the tent entrance. Wilran was about to follow her, but as she made her way to her feet large cracks of white energy pulsed from the table in front of her. Before she could even put up her own protection spell, a force knocked her back into her seat, flipped her over, and sent her crashing to the floor.