Chapter 5

After the morning’s bout, Alessia dropped off her equipment for maintenance at the forge. The excitement of the Blacksmith’s apprentices as they handled her armour was very gratifying and her already good mood improved considerably. Warden’s Vale was a wonderful place filled with right-minded people.

She returned to the harbour village and, after confirming that Themis had successfully escaped the latrine, went to help conduct the morning service. Following the service, they went to the harbour’s restaurant for breakfast. Lady Zahradnik appeared with her friends and their attendants to join them, as did the Dryad Glasir.

Alessia eyed the plant Heteromorph and her golden-red leaves, which had grown over her body in imitation of a woman’s smallclothes.

“Your ‘daughter’, domina,” Alessia said. “She is very quiet. I do not think that she said anything the entire time we were at the army barracks.”

“Dryads usually live alone in the forest and quietly tend to their trees,” Lady Zahradnik replied, “so that should not be surprising. She speaks to others when she has reason to. Dryads do not naturally possess the social behaviours of Humans and other races that exist in family units and form communities.”

Her combat education always spoke of this. Humans tended to interpret the world around them in Human terms, but other races were not beholden to that thinking. Many a naïve individual met their end trying to amicably interact with Demihumans, Heteromorphs and Monsters who saw them as nothing more than an intruder or a convenient meal.

“That must be strange to your subjects,” Alessia said.

“They still make many assumptions about her,” the Baroness motioned to Glasir to sit beside her. “Well, they are probably not ignorant assumptions about her at this point. It is more that they are trying to be inclusive.”

“It probably does not work.”

“Not in the way that they want it to,” Lady Zahradnik shook her head. “It does help her learn about Humans, though. She is quite intelligent and learns as fast as someone who has very few common points of empathy with Humans probably should.”

Lady Zahradnik’s hand gently stroked the Dryad’s shoulder as she spoke. Combined with her tone of voice, she may as well have been a proud mother extolling her daughter’s virtues.

“She is often referred to as your ‘daughter’,” Alessia cupped her hands around her tea. “I suppose that this relationship is not as what most would think when they hear it, either.”

“I left her for months shortly after she was born,” the Baroness said. “So you are probably right about that. Still, I think we have more than a cold, unfeeling acquaintance.”

“Glasir will not warm up to me at all,” Lady Corelyn pouted.

“What did you do?” Liane asked.

“I just tried speaking with her a few times over the past two nights,” Clara answered. “So we could get to know one another. I brought some things for her as well: a silk scarf and handkerchief, a silver girdle, a hand mirror framed in golden leaves…”

“She probably sensed your impure motives,” Lady Zahradnik said. “That is what you get for trying to bribe her.”

“They were not bribes – they were gifts! What did you do when she first appeared?”

“I am her guardian. Why would I have to do anything special?”

Alessia took a sip from her steaming drink. Chef Pyrus arrived with their breakfast: a bowl of ‘village stew’ with sides of sausage, bread and goose eggs. Alessia, Themis and Lady Zahradnik started right away, but the others did not.

“Is something the matter?” Lady Zahradnik glanced at her friends between bites, “This is the same breakfast as yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that,” Lady Wagner said. “You people eat really hearty out here. I thought what you fed us in the city was an extra-large portion of the stuff, but they’re regular portions. No wonder you and your family grew up so tall.”

“Did you not say that there is ‘hope for you yet’?”

“I did, but this’ll probably make me grow in the wrong places. We have Rings of Sustenance, too. How does that work?”

“We are headed back to Corelyn Harbour tomorrow,” Lady Zahradnik said. “I am sure you can survive another day of our meals here.”

The others reluctantly started on their breakfast. Alessia called for seconds.

“So we are going to the Lizardman place next,” she said. “They were not here originally, were they?”

“No,” Lady Zahradnik replied, “they are from the Great Lake in Tob. Lord Cocytus sent them here to start a new population just in case something happened.”

“…something?”

“Like a war breaking out and wiping them out. Anything that is a threat to the Sorcerous Kingdom would go through their village in minutes and it was the only Lizardman community in the country.”

Alessia saw Lizardmen in E-Rantel – or more specifically in the Adventurer Training Area – but those interactions didn’t speak much for how they normally behaved. As far as threats went, the average Lizardman was stronger than the average Human but they did not live in the same environment. The lands of the Theocracy were long developed for Human habitation, so Lizardmen were nonexistent.

There were other reptilian races in the region, but their relationship with nearby Human populations was not a good one. Sea Nagas were dominant in the waters along the Theocracy’s coast and clashed with the army. It was a never-ending battle since their dwellings deep underwater were impossible to assault with sufficient force.

Once breakfast was finished, they parted ways with Glasir. The Dryad attended school with the children of the village, so she couldn’t come with them on the second half of their tour of Warden’s Vale. Lady Zahradnik led them over to the western side of the island where a more regular-looking harbour had been cut into the stone on the other side. A smaller version of the barge they had taken up the Katze River was moored to one of the piers.

“How’s this ship treating you, by the way?” Lady Wagner asked.

“The Lizardmen have made good use out of it,” Lady Zahradnik answered. “At first, they employed it to bring prefabricated building components to their village. As far as I know, they’ll mostly be using it to ferry fish from the farms once they become fully operational.”

“Hmm…I wonder if we can make specialised containers for that. Are they just gonna throw the fish in?”

“You will have the chance to speak with them about it soon enough.”

The barge’s Elder Lich captain and a pair of Death Warriors came out of the harbour office to convey them to the Lizardman village, which could be seen several kilometres in the lake to the west. They climbed up to the bridge, where several benches had been bolted to the floor. Lady Wagner eyed the furnishings.

“Did your people do this as well?” She asked.

“They did,” Lady Zahradnik nodded. “It was not very pretty at first, but they eventually refined their improvements to the point where I thought they were worth paying for.”

“You’re gonna do that with that passenger carriage, too?”

“Of course. They may be doing these things as a hobby, but what they come up with is still valuable. Once they come up with a good carriage design, I will commission them for every wagon fielded for public transport in my demesne.”

Countess Wagner frowned at the bench in front of her as the barge got underway.

“Why does it feel like these guys moved in my market?”

“They are not specifically trying to compete with you,” Baroness Zahradnik smiled slightly. “My subjects simply apply their talents to improve the quality of life around them. The next project that they show to me may be entirely unrelated to transport.”

About halfway to the village, the barge entered a course that brought it between two long rows of wooden stakes painted white. Pairs of Lizardmen in dugouts could be seen here and there in sectioned-off areas radiating from their settlement. Once every few meters, one of them reached into their dugout and scattered a handful of something into the water, which started to churn from countless fish.

“So these are the fish farms,” Lady Gagnier said. “They look different from the ones at the Great Lake.”

“It is a design that they thought would work better here,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “I have no idea how it works, but Chief Esess claims that it will be a success.”

“What kind of fish do they raise here?” Alessia asked.

“A species of carp native to the Katze River. They went to catch them while they were spawning in the autumn so we have millions of baby fish now.”

“When will they be ready to harvest?”

“The Lizardmen will start thinning out the population in the autumn. The ones here weigh about half a kilogram already. I think the largest one I have seen from the river was over two metres long and forty kilograms. The two-year-old carp raised from fry at the Great Lake’s fish farms are about three kilograms, so I think we stand a fair chance of matching that here.”

Alessia gazed at the vast stretch of marked-off water to either side, wondering how many fish would be produced.

“Back when we visited the Great Lake,” Lady Gagnier said, “the Lizardmen told us that they were having challenges feeding more than a certain number of carp for each enclosure. It isn’t as simple as feeding our livestock.”

“They eat a surprising amount,” Lady Zahradnik nodded. “Two or three times their mass every day, if the reports are to be believed. The feed that you see the Lizardmen throwing out there is a mix of crushed grains, chopped straw and ground Demihumans.”

Baroness Gagnier blinked several times.

“…did you just say Demihumans?”

“An entire army invaded the Upper reaches last summer,” Lady Zahradnik said. “It would have been a waste to just let them rot out there. They were put in frozen storage and we take them out as needed.”

“Hmm…this is a novel idea?” Alessia said, “Demihumans are always the ones eating us; why not feed the Demihumans to the fish, which are then eaten by us?”

Meat was expensive in the Theocracy since raising livestock was resource-intensive relative to growing staple crops. The people wouldn’t eat Demihumans exterminated along the border, but they would certainly eat fish.

“It is not as if I go around hunting down Demihumans to feed my fish,” Lady Zahradnik frowned. “Besides, collecting corpses for later use is a time-honoured practice of the Sorcerous Kingdom. People think that leaving bodies lying around causes the Undead to rise, so no one will complain, yes?”

“Well,” Lady Gagnier shuddered, “that just took a morbid turn. Please don’t tell me you’re going to be collecting Beastman corpses when we go to the Draconic Kingdom.”

“Why not?”

“Y’know,” Countess Wagner said. “You’re like an inexhaustible source of horrifying rumours. A year from now, some guy on the other side of the world is going to be talking about a crazy corpse snatcher that sucks up entire armies to feed her ravening hordes of fanatical people.”

“Eh…I do not think that they would be frightened of that,” Alessia said. “There are so many carnivorous races that hundreds of thousands of people are probably eaten every day.”

She thought that was the case, at least. If it was Humans alone, there were probably about fifty million in the region of the world centred around the Theocracy. When one considered all of the other races – which included fecund races like Goblins and Troglodytes – the number probably sat around two or three times that even if they did not have large-scale agriculture. There were surely many times more than that out in the world.

The barge slid into a roofed-over berth in the Lizardman village, which was equipped with the same infrastructure for loading cargo containers as the harbour. A delegation of Lizardmen, led by a black-scaled Lizardman Lord, waited to receive them. They bowed in unison as Lady Zahradnik disembarked and walked up to them.

“Welcome back, Lady Zahradnik,” the Lizardman Lord said in a clear, yet smooth voice. “It is good to see you again after the long winter.”

“It is good to be back, Chief Esess,” Lady Zahradnik smiled, “though I will be away again before long. I might be misremembering, but have you grown larger since I saw you last?”

“I have, my lady,” he said. “Those who have not seen me for a time notice right away. I’m ten centimetres taller than before. Some people say that it’s a sign of being a Demihuman Lord.”

“If that is the case,” Lady Zahradnik replied, “then your hard work has paid off. Have you developed any Skills or Abilities since it happened?”

“Muu…I don’t think so. My people seem to argue less with me these days, but maybe that is because I am no longer so terrible at leading them? I cannot do the things that Chief Shasha does yet.”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I am sure you will get there. What about your martial path? Have you given any consideration as to how you would like to fight?”

“I believe that I will stay with the scimitar,” Chief Esess replied. “If I can get Zaryusu to train me, maybe I will not get my tongue pinned to the ground again.”

“There’s gotta be a story behind that,” Lady Wagner peered at the two.

Neither Lady Zahradnik nor the Lizardman Lord responded, so there probably was.

Introductions were made and Chief Esess led them further into the village. They received curious looks as the Lizardman Chief showed them around, but most of the villagers kept to their business. Alessia counted at least eight different colours of Lizardmen, but she wasn’t sure what each one meant for their race.

Their procession slowed as they entered the central structure and they stopped to inspect the goods at the few market stands there. Themis wandered over to where Lady Wagner was either haggling or harassing one of the Lizardman Merchants.

“What are they selling here?”

Alessia ran her gaze over the table. They appeared to be an assortment of trinkets that could commonly be found in the possession of Demihuman tribes. Most were fashioned out of clay, wood or stone, with a few made from rope or fabric. Themis picked up a bracelet of polished clay beads.

“This is magic?”

“Yes, dear customer,” the Lizardman Merchant said. “When activated, it provides one day of the Virtue enchantment for each of the beads on the bracelet. It’s a very popular product with so many families being raised now.”

“Why is that?” Lady Wagner asked.

“Virtue is an orison that all divine casters can learn,” Themis explained. “For lack of a better description, it gives the target a little bit of temporary durability. This is a very good magic item for those who can afford it: accidents that might result in broken bones will leave the victim with bruises instead. Regular children aren’t as durable as adults, so the effect of Virtue is ‘exaggerated’ on them.”

“Oh, you sure know your stuff, dear customer,” the Lizardman Merchant nodded. “How many would you like to purchase for your broodlings?”

“Erm…I do not have any broodlings yet. I should buy one to show the others, though. What does each go for?”

The Lizardman Merchant seemed to brighten at the prospect of making a sale. It held up one of its clawed hands.

“One bracelet is four copper coins. If you buy a month’s worth or more, they are three copper each.”

Alessia counted the number of beads on each bracelet. There appeared to be seven, meaning that each would last a week. Themis placed a silver coin on the counter, receiving four bracelets and a copper coin in change. She frowned and rubbed her chin as they left the stand and continued on their way.

“Is something the matter, Vicar?” Lady Zahradnik asked.

“What is the rate for First-tier spells in Warden’s Vale, my lady?”

“Two copper coins.”

“Hmm…are these magic items produced here, Chief Esess?”

“They are,” the Lizardman Chief replied. “We have workshops on the second floor of the compound for magic item production.”

“Are they available for viewing?”

Chief Esess glanced at Lady Zahradnik, who nodded.

“This way, please,” he said.

They were led deeper into the building, entering a bare, circular courtyard in the middle of the village. It looked like some work was being done on it: a large flat area was being packed down in the centre.

“You are placing something here?” Alessia asked.

“Yes,” Chief Esess replied. “A statue of the Sorcerer King. We had one back in our old home at the Great Lake to venerate, but it wasn’t until this winter that we finished laying down our village here.”

Alessia furrowed her brow at the spot on the ground. Surshana had Lizardman worshippers now? As a defender of the faith, did that mean she was now oathbound to protect them? The people back in the Theocracy would surely go into seizures from the very idea.

The Chief brought them up a flight of stairs on one side. Lady Zahradnik came closer to Themis as they walked along the balcony encircling the courtyard.

“Might I know if there is a problem, Vicar Aspasia?”

“I do not know whether it is a problem yet,” Themis replied, “but the magic items at that stand seem too cheap. Orisons and First-tier spells cost the same, meaning that if you cast Virtue seven times, it should cost at least one silver and one copper. That is not counting the material costs for the magic item. Preparing the same number of scrolls should be around twice as much. Furthermore, Virtue from a caster is a short-duration spell. This item provides it for a day per bead.”

“So you’re saying that they’re using a roundabout method to circumvent the official schedule for divine magic,” Lady Wagner said. “Undercutting the competition through these magic items.”

Chief Esess looked over his shoulder, casting a worried eye at them. Was he aware that they were cheating? Perhaps Lady Zahradnik would be adding Lizardmen to the fish feed soon.

“They don’t even have any ‘competition’ here,” Lady Gagnier poked Lady Wagner in the ribs. “Since it seems that anyone can use them, they are more akin to potions and those are far more expensive than scrolls.”

“I agree,” Themis nodded, “Making any assertions in that direction is premature. Observing the production method should provide a decisive answer.”

Their party entered a workshop a few doors down from the top of the stairs. The odour of herbs, soil and Lizardman wafted through the air. A forest green Lizardman in mystic’s garb came over to greet them.

“Csersch,” Chief Esess said. “One of Lady Zahradnik’s guests had a question for you…”

Themis came forward to address the Lizardman mystic. It was a scene that could have only ended with a mace to the face if it were in the Theocracy.

“I was curious about the production costs of the magic items on display in the market below,” she held up one of the bracelets. “The prices were so low that I could not help but wonder if you were undervaluing your goods.”

“We thought that it was a fair price…”

Csersch looked between Themis, Chief Esess and Lady Zahradnik before motioning for them to follow. He brought them over to a long workbench and retrieved a flat wooden case. Inside were five bead bracelets nearly identical to the ones that Themis had purchased.

“We order these from the potter on the ground floor,” Csersch explained. “Each must be enchanted by one of our mystics to form the final product.”

“How much does one of these bracelets cost?” Themis asked.

“A set of five costs four copper coins,” the Lizardman mystic answered. “The village goes through about fifty per week, but we expect that number to triple by this time next year.”

“Does the craftsmanship of the base item matter?”

“They are made by a master potter,” Csersch replied, “shoddy craftsmanship is not good enough.”

“Are you capable of demonstrating the enchantment process?”

In response, the Lizardman mystic took one of the bracelets out of its container, placing it on a clean cloth. Several seconds after he extended his claws over the item, a magical formation appeared. They watched his work intently, but it ended as innocuously as it had started.

“I see,” Themis nodded thoughtfully. “That is why the items are so cheap.”

“Why is that?” Lady Wagner asked.

“It uses a different methodology from arcane artisans like Alchemists. For simplicity’s sake, think of a potion as a receptacle for a spell. Not the bottle, mind you – the solvent. The solvent must have the ‘capacity’ to hold the spell being cast. This limitation by receptacle is a general rule for many magic items such as scrolls, potions, wands and staves. What determines what a receptacle can hold is the quality of the material.”

Themis gestured to the shelves nearby, which were stocked with hundreds of scrolls.

“Those scrolls, for instance, are made out of regular fish leather and only have the capacity for First-tier spells. If one casts anything stronger on them, the vellum will be destroyed. When any magic item is crafted, the cost is essentially the labour and materials that went into the receptacle or whatever the magic item is plus the contribution of the artisan, which is essentially everything that went into research and development, their capabilities as a magic caster and their mana.”

“So one of those scrolls is the cost of the leather and the cost of the spell,” Lady Wagner said. “Since a First-tier spell is scheduled at two copper coins here it shouldn’t be much more than that once they start mass-producing fish leather.”

“That is correct,” Themis said. “Potions are more expensive because the reagents that go into an alchemical solution are more expensive. The advantage to them is that they can be used by anyone. Wands and staves are cheaper on a per-cast basis, but their purchase cost is prohibitive and vocational restrictions apply to their use.”

“Where do these beads fit into it all?”

“They belong to a different branch of crafting,” Themis replied. “It is related to totemic traditions and the other druidic practices that revolve around evoking the ‘spiritual power’ of natural things. Sometimes you see practitioners with tattoos on their bodies which can be activated to channel the spirit of whatever animal that it represents. These beads are the same: they are evoking the ‘spirit’ in the clay, which replicates the spell that it is enchanted with.”

“So they’re using the power of dirt.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Themis smiled slightly. “The formation creates a magic item imprinted with the spell applied to it. Each bead is sized to fuel one application of the spell. Once all of the charges are expended, the item disintegrates into nothing.”

Themis looked to Csersch, who nodded in confirmation.

“You understand far more about our ways than the Alchemists and Artificers in the harbour,” he said. “That’s quite a surprise. When we demonstrated our techniques to her and her students, they did not see what was going on at all.”

“Alchemists are arcane casters,” Themis said. “Though there are major differences between us, all divine casters use the same category of magic. The formation that you use is actually one that can also be used by the Temples of the Six.”

“Wait a minute,” Lady Wagner said. “If you could make magic items out of dirt all along, then why didn’t you do it? The Temples barely produce any magic items at all.”

The Vicar gestured to the shelves filled with scrolls nearby.

“Any magic caster can fashion scrolls if they have the materials and the mana,” she said, “but stockpiling this many is next to impossible for us. The mana of temple staff is primarily allocated to the ministry with a bit reserved for emergencies. We cannot stockpile scrolls because we have no mana to spare. With this being the case, you can probably understand that magic items in general are out of the question.”

“Much like Re-Estize’s lack of arcane institutions meant that the development of arcane industries was minimal,” Lady Corelyn said, “the secular nature of the government leaves the Temples as a self-managing healthcare system and not much more than that. Each shrine, temple and monastery functions independently with no overall direction and thus no collective resources to allocate towards industry. I am fairly certain that divine casters of substantial talent are also poached by the Theocracy – at least until recently.”

Alessia exchanged a look with Themis. The truth was that it was still happening. Unknown to most, a Miko Princess was lost two years previous. Several of her Temple Guard were also slain in the incident. With Themis approaching the threshold of Tier Five magic – which was the minimum qualification for a Miko Princess – the Theocracy was beginning to make overtures. Alessia was similarly being targeted because they needed new Temple Guards…or perhaps it was why she was sent to attend to Themis in the first place.

“One thing leads to another, I guess,” Lady Wagner muttered. “But I don’t think that’s happening anymore? What’s to stop you from doing it now?”

“We still have a major staff shortage,” Themis said. “The needs of the people always come first. Mana is not the only factor, however. The second part of the problem is the material limitations that I mentioned. These items work with Virtue because it is an orison – a ‘Tier-zero’ spell. Regular clay cannot fuel First-tier spells, so one would have to graduate to better materials.”

“So you go from dirt to stone to iron or something like that?”

“It is easier to consider that each type of material has a ‘grade’ which correlates to a certain tier of magic, so there are different types of metal, stone, leather, fabric or wood. An alternative is to refine a material or receptacle to the point where it can cast more powerful magic. Furthermore, techniques must exist to fashion those items and the materials they use. These techniques are very resource and time-intensive to develop and perfect, so they are in the realm of industrial and national secrets.”

“With this Lizardman method,” Alessia said, “one would think ahead and see that extremely rare and expensive materials are eventually required. No one pursues this route understanding that.”

There were actually various sacraments and relics in the Temples that were of the type of item that they were discussing, but they were generally not consumed save for dire emergencies. In the Theocracy, one could say that every temple and shrine was a stockpile of magic items. The E-Rantel cathedral, on the other hand, only had the same relics that they were gifted generations ago when the city was founded.

“That may be the case,” Csersch admitted, “but we will still try. We no longer live in subsistence, so we have the time and resources to devote to research and development. Warden’s Vale is also rich in natural energy, as evidenced by the birth of Glasir. What we can accomplish here may go far beyond any expectations.”

They ended up staying over an hour discussing magic item production with Csersch, at which point he led them to a clear space at the back of the workshop. People usually saved the best for last when it came to showing things off, but Alessia wasn’t certain whether this applied to Lizardmen.

“This area here is where we conduct our ritual magic–”

Alessia went into a fit of coughing. The others stared at her as she wiped her eyes of tears.

“Did you say ritual magic?” She croaked out.

“…yes?”

That couldn’t be right.

“Can you demonstrate this ritual magic of yours?”

“Erm…alright?”

She couldn’t read the Lizardman’s alien expression, but the tone of his voice was dubious. After calling two other mystics to come and participate, Csersch took his position at the centre of their ‘circle’ and led a ritual that imbued a fish vellum scroll with a First-tier spell.

They’re using ritual magic to create First-tier scrolls…

Alessia wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or cry. Themis poked her in the shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“How…where did you learn this ritual magic from?” Alessia asked.

“It was passed down through the Red-Eye Tribe’s traditions,” Csersch said. “With the formation of the Lizardman Alliance, the practice has spread to the other tribes over the last two years.”

There was no precedent for any Demihuman society in the region to have ritual magic. Never mind ritual magic, magic casters amongst the local Demihuman populations were limited to races with innate casting ability, Sorcerers and unsophisticated tribal mystics. Based on the variety of magic items in their keeping and the spells required to create them, it appeared that these Lizardmen were unsophisticated tribal mystics, but how in the world did they develop ritual magic?

In their effort to protect humanity and allow it to develop without interference, the Slane Theocracy worked hard to suppress non-Human populations in the region. They culled them when they started to develop Martial Arts, Combat Skills and other foundational elements of civilisation. If they were a particularly strong race or had absurdly strong individuals, it might be more difficult to enforce this policy, but these Lizardmen were not particularly strong.

“Out of curiosity,” Alessia said, “how is it that you became a part of the Sorcerous Kingdom?”

“His Majesty came to us about two years ago,” Chief Esess said. “After being tested by Lord Cocytus, the Sorcerer King spared us and we swore our eternal loyalty to him. In exchange, he promised to bring prosperity to our people.”

“I see.”

Alessia’s face became a stony mask. These Lizardmen had somehow eluded the efforts of the Slane Theocracy for generations, cultivating a society that should have seen them exterminated. Then Surshana himself just happened to take them under his protection.

No coincidence could be so fortunate as this. All she could think was that it was the will of the gods. Ritual magic was one of the Theocracy’s most powerful tools, yet it had come to the Sorcerous Kingdom with laughable ease. Now it was in the possession of Surshana’s Chosen, who would use her resources and authority to develop it to heights unimagined.

A shiver of excitement travelled up her spine. Earning a place as a Temple Guard at the Eye of the Water God had been one of her greatest aspirations. She had worked hard to be the best Paladin she could be and studied just as hard for her dream job as the attendant of a Miko Princess who led the great rituals of the Slane Theocracy.

Alessia could not turn down her assignment to the Sorcerous Kingdom, but anxieties rose over whether she would ever return to the Theocracy and become what she always wanted to be. Turning down the Theocracy’s proposal to return with Themis hurt her more than she wanted to admit.

Now, it seemed that her god had answered the fervent prayer that was her life’s work. All she needed to do was remain steadfast.

Omnia tempus habent, et suis spatiis transeunt universa sub cælo.

To everything there was a season, a time to every purpose under heaven.