She felt her legs turning to lead and her side ache as if pierced by a sharp knife. She knew her limit had been reached but kept going anyway. Even so it surprised her when the ground jumped up and hit her in the face.

Larenmireil led the two to Essinobria’s home. The two girls tromping around behind her didn’t seem to understand that it was a home, not a bakery, but humans commonly made that mistake and she didn’t bother to correct them, there would be time to explain that later around a fire. She knew they had many things to speak of this night.

Her friend Greta was acting differently this visit. Perhaps it was the circumstances of Rana’s sudden illness, death and reawakening, but she thought maybe it was more. She always wondered why Greta never took interest in her, but apparently she’d found someone to love, after all. Larenmireil couldn’t blame her, something about Rana drew her as well, an innocence, or perhaps a strength. Perhaps something beyond definition.

“Here we are, can you smell her ovens? Essinobria, it’s Larenmireil.” she called out at the doorway, waiting patiently to be invited in.

The creaking of the old wooden door brought a quick smile to Larenmireil face as she watch her good friend face peek out from the door frame. “Welcome, Larenmireil Lassdirlhá»n and honoured guests”

“We thank you for your welcome, Essinobria. Greta you know, and please meet Rana, of Lussax. she is a good friend as well.”

Essinobria smiled then took Rana’s hand, “You have been through much troubles it seems, but let me relieve you of one,” Pulling to girl in past the door, she offered a motherly grin. “I have many baked goods, please take what you wish and eat your fill.”

Larenmireil stiffed a giggle at Rana’s ecstatic expression as she looked about the room filled with honey buns, freshly baked biscuits, and fruit breads. Something about the place seemed to strike a chord with her. She spared Essinobria a grateful glance and picked up a honeyed cake. Larenmireil for her part waited for the others to choose before taking anything for herself. It would be discourteous to do otherwise after all.

“Is that all? You’re growing girls, you need more than that to eat. Why don’t I pack you up a picnic and you can relax out on the canyon floor. The ovens make my cave a bit hot this time of day.” Suiting words to action, she began packing a sack with waxed-paper wrapped treats as the girls enjoyed the fresh hot baked goods.

With Essinobria’s suggestion the three girls made their way to the canyon floor to a quiet corner where a large campfire was already roaring. The sun was quickly setting with the last rays of light illuminating the west in a pale red glow.

“So anyway, what’s the wind goddess like?” Rana asked her with the kind of enthusiasm so common in humans. She smiled, it always made her feel excited too, somehow.

“She’s beautiful, and always changing. Sometimes she’s a bird, or a swirling wind, or a beautiful elf, or even a human. Sometimes she changes from one to another so fast you can hardly keep track. Other days she stays in one form for hours, depending on her mood. She loves puzzles and riddles, some of our elders spend all their days just thinking up new riddles to give to her.”

“Are you sure that’s not just an excuse to laze around all day drinking wine?” Greta asked, which Larenmireil couldn’t help but laugh at. It was undoubtedly true. “Well, I wouldn’t ask them that.”

“Rana, so what are your plans? Will you continue to follow the caravan?” she asked, then regretted the question immediately as she witnessed an almost palpable sadness flash across the young girls face.

“I... I just want to go home.” she choked. Larenmireil leaned forward to hug the poor girl, she really was just a child after all, and found herself hugging Greta as well. Greta was mumbling in her ear, but Larenmireil could hear it easily enough.

“No, Rana, not back to him, he’ll only hurt you again... Can’t your home be with us now, with Father’s caravan? You know we care for you very much. No one will hurt you with us.”

“But...I want to see my mother and father!” She silently sobbed but somehow kept it to a whisper that threaten to break at any moment.

“Wait, but your friend said your mother died, and your father beat you...?” Greta sounded confused, and Larenmireil was as well. She’d not yet actually heard of Rana’s past.

“No, Mother and Father own a bakery, just like Essinobria, they were always good to me. Arron just wanted to make sure my master, Xabriar, couldn’t track me so he made that up. Master Xabriar beat me often though, with magic whips made of air, and he used to hang me over the stair way and threaten to drop me!”

Greta grab the girl in a powerful hug. “It’s okay. We’ll get you back home then.”

“But I can’t go home...” Look up into Greta face Rana sniffed “ Xabriar will find me and kill them and me! And I took his sword too… And the sword. I-I-I’m still going to die when Granth dies and, and....”

Lightly holding Rana’s head, Greta hushed the girl, “Shhhh, calm down... Everything will be fine, I promise.”

Larenmireil slipped around the two girls to seat herself behind Rana. she slowly began to rub her shoulders, a relaxation technique that the village healer had taught her. Leaning forward until her mouth rested next to Rana ears she whisper in her sing song voice “All will be well... calm yourself.” Rana did seem to calm down, but Larenmireil kept massaging her shoulders anyway.

“Yeah. You have two really good friends here who love you very much. We’ll help you, somehow we’ll fix all of this so that you can safely go home. You just have to trust us, okay?” Greta offered as well, comfortingly.

“You mean it? You love me?” Something about Rana seemed desperate, alone. Larenmireil couldn’t help being moved once again by the girl who seemed so lost.

“Rana, I have known you only for a few days, the mere blink of an eye, but I have come to love you. You inspire trust and love in those you meet because you are so genuine, and for that I love you very much. There is nothing about you that does not draw me.” Greta nodded her agreement as well, offering her own words.

“Rana, since the moment I met you I wanted to protect you. You seemed so scared and alone. And when I saw you bathing, all I could think of was, what could be such a desperate need that would drive a boy to dress as a girl, just to get away? But throughout our capture and escape, during our time travelling in the wilds with almost nothing but our wits, I always knew I could trust you. Yes, Rana, I love you.”

“Th-thank you... I love you both so much, I don’t know what I would do without either of you. I know that’s wrong of me but I can’t help how I feel. I... When Granth said those awful things to me, I just felt like everything was spinning out of control, that maybe no one could really love me. Especially turning into something... not human.”

An owl called out, and all three turned their heads in surprise.

---

Cale slowly walked himself away from the healer’s cave, despite the old elf’s insistence that he rest. A part of him truly wished take her advice, the medicine had cured his nausea but his agility and balance where far from normal. But his pride wouldn’t allow for his marks to live another day longer, they had to die tonight. He made his way over the ramps with a casual stride, listening for the sounds of that girl Rana and her friend Greta’s voices.

An hour later his search bore fruit as he lay flat to the sandy ground of the cliff. The growing darkness and the shadow of the mountain hid him well as he peered his head over the side. Sitting at a bench in front of a camp fire couple dozen feet below was the girl Rana and her friend. They were eating sweetbreads from a bag resting between the three and talking about the wind goddess. He had little use for gods, natural or otherwise, but he listened anyway, in case their words might somehow offer an opportunity to exploit.

As he listened his mind raced in how he was going to kill the little twat. It seemed in his sleep the elves had confiscated most of his weapons, including his bow and blow tube. That left him with just a couple of hidden daggers and some poison. It wasn’t much compared to his regular arsenal of choices, especially considering how resilient the girl with the sword proved.

Pulling his dagger from it hidden sheath in his leather vest and a tiny wrapped vial from a hidden compartment in the heel of his left boot, Cale slowly dripped a black liquid from the small bottle over the edge of the blade, scowling as he did so. The dagger was one of his favorites, well balanced and of good steel, but would soon be worthless once the poison seeped completely through the metal, turning it as brittle as clay.

Circling back round he crept quietly up on the three, the silly girls were talking about their feelings for each other like it was some sort of comedic play. They paid no attention to their surroundings at all, but Cale took no risks. He was almost within striking range of the red-haired one, Greta, when an owl hooted just above his head. He cursed as the three turned at once and looked straight at him, and threw the knife at her. The elf girl, acting faster than he thought her capable of, threw her bread and struck the knife aside, but his arms already drew tight around the terrified Greta, his hand wrapped around her neck with fingers splayed.

Sneering at the two he growled, “Move and I will snap her neck in an instant.” He pulled the struggling girl towards the edge of the fire pit with him, it was pure luck that no one else had been using the other fire pits nearby, or perhaps the girls just wanted some privacy. Either way, he kept her to the shadows cast by the flickering flame. “We are all going on a little trip up the mountain”

That sword, the one the girl kept hidden in her skirts, seemed almost to leap to her hand, it’s marred, cracked surface reflecting the firelight in irregular, sputtering flashes. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as she looked him in the eyes and for the first time he noticed flickering embers burning in them. Even her hair, blond as hay in daylight, seemed to burn with the reflected light of the fire, strands floating around her head as fingers of flame.

“*Let* *her* *go*.....” The words slammed through his head with such force of determination that he almost obeyed. Pulling the girl Greta back to the edge of the cliff he retrieved his deflected dagger from the cliff wall, the acidic poison left behind smoldering in the gash left behind in the rock face.

Placing the half melted blade to Greta’s throat he snarled, “Now come along little girls. Don’t be a hero or she’ll be dead before she hits the ground.”

The blond girl stepped forward despite his warning, “I know you... you’re the man from the woods!” she shouted.

Cale cursed silently as he heard the tell tale creak of bows being drawn taut in the shadows. The occasional flickering of green eyes in the darkness told him that at least a half a dozen of the pointy eared people had trained arrows on him.

“Release the girl, dark one.” A thick deep voice called from the beyond the fire light. Gripping the girl close to his chest he drew her back with him into the darkness. It was a meaningless gesture on his part: elves, if the rumor held true, had exceptional night vision. But it helped with his own nerves.

The girl called Rana kept eye contact with Cale, those burning eyes never once leaving his. He could almost imagine that fire shooting out to burn him alive, but ignored it. It wasn’t the first time someone looked at him like they meant to kill him. Even so, the situation was untenable, if one elf was here, others would be coming. Time was short.

“Let her go or I will burn your body and soul from all existence.” The girl was good, he had to admit, or else that medicine must be getting to him. He almost believed she could do it. In fact, he could even feel the heat already-

He dropped the dagger as it suddenly burned his hand, his skin blistering even through his glove. It bounced harmlessly off the ground at his feet, just as the girl he held stomped his foot in a way he would have been prepared for, had his burning hand not distracted him. He barely managed to tense up and stop the follow-up kick between his thighs, but the damage was done and she was free. He knew the elves above would fire on him the moment they could, and elves seldom missed.

He grabbed his trinket tightly and activated its greatest and most costly ability. His eyesight sharpened, colors taking on hues not even imaginable to most humans. He watched as layers of illusion fell off the girl with the sword, and he saw her as she truly was. Pink scales covered her from head to toe. Claws extended from her fingers in a parody of the painted lengthy fingernails some of the nobility affected. Her eyes... those eyes filled with fire, a wild, hungry fire that longed to consume everything.

He wondered, what manner of creature had he agreed to kill? All activity around him slowed to a crawl and he felt his body tense up, knowing it would not last. Now was the time to move, not think.

He leaped for the wall, gripping finger holds in the smooth stone. A ghost image piece through his hand, and before it could happen he bunched up desperately and leaped upwards grasping another hand hold. The arrow shattered on the stone below just as he found a grip.

The cave entrances flashed by as he landed on the path upward, and began a desperate, weaving run between elves, across walls and through obstacles as he dodged arrows that he could see hitting him before they ever left the bowstring. When the effect ended he had to be somewhere protected, because he would be weak.

---

Trumpets sounded a charge from behind, and Corana looked back at Arron. She knew what that sound meant, and by the look on Arron’s face, so did he.

“The fairy court is on the march, they’ll catch us unless we can make the border in time!”

The earth god nodded towards Corana and Arron, tossing aside the remnants of the thrashing forest god. It took off in a lumbering run of its own, tearing a path though the ancient overgrowth recklessly. Corana and Arron chased desperately in the wake of its destructive charge.

“How far until the border?” Arron huffed after long minutes of hard running.

Corana’s lungs burned like fire as she gasped for every scrap of oxygen she could, as she tried to keep stride with the great earth god. “I... don’t... know...” her heart pounded through her chest reminding her of a mason’s hammer.

“Corana......” she could hardly hear Arron voice over the ringing in her ears. “..all...right?”

She felt her legs turning to lead and her side ache as if pierced by a sharp knife. She knew her limit had been reached but kept going anyway. Even so it surprised her when the ground jumped up and hit her in the face.

“By the first, Corana wake up!” The voice sounded desperate, she tried to wave it off to leave her. But her protest went unheeded as she felt herself being picked up off the ground. Whoever it was was warm and firmly muscled, so she gave up and let him have his way.

---

She didn’t weigh much, and once she stopped struggling the run was easier. It reminded Arron of the early days of city guard training when the drillmaster made him run for hours on end with heavy bags of rocks. He hated it with a passion at the time, but now it was paying off, and he decided to thank the man if he ever lived to return to Gaerbron.

The earth god kept moving, and the pause to pick her up and check her for injury had cost him, but the path was easy enough to follow so he didn’t worry. He could however almost feel the fairies chasing after, looming behind like a great axe waiting to fall on him.

The sound of music flooded the woods, ringing in his ears with an insistent buzz, and he felt his legs go weak. Fairy song! He put every ounce of his will into placing one foot in front of the other, running with all his strength, even as the music muddled his thinking.

And then suddenly it faded. He took several steps dizzily, and nearly rammed into the earth god who had stopped before him. The forest was gone, completely, and in front of him stood the greatest mountain he had ever seen, larger than even his wildest dreams. It loomed menacingly above him, casting its shadow all the way back to where, leagues behind, he could see the edge of the forest.

Laying Corana careful onto the ground he looked up toward the towering earth god, “Is it safe to rest?” The simple nod was more than enough of a reply as he let out a loud sigh. Corana stirred slightly where she lay, and he gently shook her shoulder.

“Corana, wake up. You need to drink and recover. We’re safe now.” She opened her eyes muzzily and looked up at him uncomprehendingly.

“Hurts...” she moaned, and he nodded, vaguely recalling how his mother had helped him recover after drills.

“Here, drink, it will help.” He held a skin to her lips and she drank sips of water, then he set to building a fire and shelter. He put water on to boil for a restorative soup and tended to her bruised and wounded feet. Her thin shoes had not fared as well in the frenzied flight as his boots.

“Thank you, Arron. I am not used to running so hard for so long, I think.” Corana offered hoarsely once she recovered her wits. “It must have been difficult carrying me. I am sorry for that.”

“Nonsense. You are... special to me. Carrying you was not a burden, it was an honor. Besides, we moved a little faster once I picked you up.” He grinned at her and she chuckled.

“Yes, well, I do know your endurance well, at that.” she grinned back impishly as he felt himself blush, and he decided she’d scored the point.

“Here, I made you some soup, I’m afraid it’s mostly rations, dried vegetables and stock but it will help restore your energy after that run.” He fed her spoonfuls of soup, which she protested, but he knew all of her muscles would be too sore for even small tasks for a while.

She smiled great fully towards Arron and thanking the fates that she had run into him. Without his help this quest would have meant her death long ago.

---

Duke Veston watched in dismay through his window as his city fell into chaos, the peasants were quietly panicking. Prince Seradin was apparently dead, killed by an assassin according to his sources. The Imperial priests and soldiers had stormed the streets in search of his murderer, but the lack of communication from their faction meant likely they had not caught him.

Then there was the business of a monster appearing in the city square, and that pillar of flame that neither he nor the high priest could explain. To add to his troubles the Allestro family were demanding reparations for their outlandish manor that was now nothing more then a smoldering ruin. But these were trifles compared to the way he was certain the Empress would respond to the death of her son, in his city.

Slugging back a goblet of wine he ordered his assistant to have guards remove the remainder of the prince’s contingent from his city and then to bring him quill and parchment. He had a lot of missives to pen. War was coming, and the cities of the south must be notified.

---

Rall watched as the dark man with the burning eyes ran faster than he thought possible, evading arrow after arrow as if he knew exactly where each would strike. In moments the man was gone from view. He turned to Greta and found her holding a knife, the one the assassin held to her throat.

“Put it down, Greta, he’s gone.” He took two steps to reach her and held her tightly as she shook. “He’s gone, it’s okay now.” Larenmireil came to her from the other side, and together they held her until the shaking passed.

“Come now, back to the healer’s home. I think you’ve had more than enough excitement for one night, Rana. You’ve gone all pale.” Larenmireil decided, guiding both of them to the ramp that led up towards Eludrale’s cave. “You too, Greta, I know you’ll feel better staying close to Rana. I would as well.”

She was right, by the time they reached the healer’s cave, Rall felt as weak as a newborn kitten, his body was shaking and ached everywhere. Eludrale appeared in the doorway and beckoned them all in.

“Oh dear, oh dear... You have done something foolish, child. Nearly all of your energy has been spent. You are still far too weak to be using magic, child, what would possess you to even try?” The old elven woman chided as she rushed Rall through her home leaving Greta and Larenmireil to wait at the door step.

“Man... tried t’kill Greta...” the healer tsk tsk’ed and shook her head with a glance at the empty bed.

“I have a strengthening tea that will bring you around. I hope it will help you regain your stamina, but I fear your sword is putting too great a strain on your body. It’s a wonder that you have held up so well, feeding so much raw power to that sword of yours.

Rall nodded tiredly as Eludrale quickly gathered powders and leaves and started water boiling in a kettle. In minutes she placed a steaming cup in his hands, and bade him drink. The taste was truly awful.

The old elf woman knelt next to Rall looking deep into his eyes, then start to check his pulse and breathing. “It seems to be kicking in nicely. Its a stimulant, boosts the bodies vital energies, but it’s only temporary. Also very dangerous if used too much. If you wish to live though, you must do something to repair your sword.”

“But I can’t do that!” He did feel a lot better after drinking the tea. “Martello said only the gods could work seals such as this!” It was so hopeless.

“Then what a great coincidence it must be, that the goddess of the winds visits our mountain top so often. I believe she is visiting now, though she does not dance her colors in the sky these last few months. I have heard her whispers though, talk of puzzles and riddles from the mountaintop. Perhaps she will aid you, she may find the puzzle of the sword that is not a sword to be great fun.”

A loud yawn and thump behind Rall announced Greta’s presence as she snaked her arms around his neck leaning into his back and resting her head. “But first, I believe your friend has the right idea, you should get some rest.”

Rall nodded a bit, the idea was tempting but the night’s event still stirred in his mind. “What about the man that attacked Greta?”

“Gone.” Larenmireil echoed through the house. “The village hunters are seeking him now, but he moves like a hunting cat.. I never though human men could move like that.”

Rall shook his head at that. “It’s some kind of magic, I saw yellow and red energy cover his body just before he leaped up the cliff. I think it was enhancing his body somehow. And his eyes were burning white, really bright.”

Grabbing a handful of herbs, Eludrale prepared a cup of tea for herself. “The dark child is hunted by his own demons, I do not ask that you forgive him for his actions. But just know that he acts from fear and longing. He will not give up easily, but he will see the folly in his ways before long.”

Greta’s eyebrows furled, her drowsiness dispelled by a spike of anger. “He will be redeemed you say? He tried to kill me! He had a knife with acid on it at my throat, and only the gods know what he would have done if...!”

Rall held the shaking girl close. “I think he was after me. I’m not sure but I think my former master hired him to find me. It had to happen eventually, especially since I have the sword. He must have figured out that I didn’t destroy it. He does not take kindly to being defied, and I did so twice, by running away and by taking the sword. There’s no other reason for anyone to be after us.”

Pulling back a curtain Larenmireil quickly stepped through and sat herself next to Greta. “The night watch is sending out a patrol to seek out the human.” Griping Greta’s shoulder with a firm squeeze she met her eyes steadily. “Have no fear, he will be caught by the dawn’s light. And if we’re to climb the mountain tomorrow, we all must get our rest.”

---

Rall stood in a great cavern. The ground was the deepest black she had ever seen, no light reflected off of it at all. It was sharp and broken as well, poking through her leather boots painfully. A menacing dark red glow spidered through the ground faults, pulsing in time with a heart beat that echoed like a drum. The ceiling hung far, far out of sight as well, yet she knew it was a cavern.

She felt more than saw them, hordes and hordes of hateful creatures, beings which meant only suffering and death to all things. They crowded at the very edges of her vision, but never close enough to see, as if her eyes alone kept them from falling on her and devouring her whole. And before her, in the midst of this open space where the monsters would not tread, stood her master, Xabriar.

He held a book she remembered reshelving for him several times during her stay with him, and in the crook of his arm rested his great staff, with its cruel grasping claw. He had warned her once not to touch it, and in his eyes she had seen the truth, he would kill her horribly should she ever touch that staff. And now he had it, here in this awful place. Before him stood something else.

It was a contradiction to everything, its shape was beyond comprehension. One moment it resembled a great giant with leathery wings that spread into infinity, then a with slight tilt of her perception and its form dissolved into a beast with a thousand mouth and eyes. Most frightening was the brief moment where she was quite certain it became a beautiful man with piercing red eyes. But what truly unsettled her was the realization that the creature was not shifting its form but that what she witnessed were very literally different aspects of the same creature.

“Xabriar of Gaerbron, Sorcerer of the First Order, you have come here to deal with us. In payment you bring the book and promise suffering for your own kind. What recompense would you request from Us?” The... thing asked of her master. Its voice clawed at her ears, as if a living thing wishing to climb into her mind and drive her mad, but she could only stand there, watching and listening silently not daring to even breathe. Neither seemed to notice her at all, thankfully, else she would surely be burnt to cinders where she stood.

Xabriar sucked in a deep, ragged breath, he seemed rattled, tired and very afraid, something Rall never imagined she would ever see from her seemingly immortal former master. “Great demon lord, I seek assistance for my ascension. Both raw power and the protection of your kind.”

The cavern burst into laughter and heart wrenching cackles. The demon lord seemed to chuckle himself, clearly amused. “What you offer is not enough, you must give more. If We are to help you ascend, you will become Ours. You will rain fire and destruction on your own kind, and you will free Us of this... prison!”

“Fine! I agree to your terms! Let the bargain be struck, and give me the power I require, for time grows short and I will not be denied my rightful place!” The terrifying thing reached forth with a clawed hand and Xabriar met it with his own. A corona of fire pulsed around the pair, black unholy fire that crackled and burned like a living thing, and licked at Rall as if to devour her as well. She felt its malevolent hate burning into her as the waves cascaded off the pair, then just as suddenly collapsed onto... no, into Xabriar.

A screech like nothing she had ever heard in her life clawed its way from her former master’s throat, the sound of an agony no man should ever bear. His robes caught fire and burned away, as the old leathery flesh blistered and cracked on his back and a runed symbol etched itself into his flesh in powerful strokes, each slash into his flesh driving his scream to to even greater levels of torment.

Rall tried to turn away from the horror that now consumed her former master. But a power gripped her, slowly pulling her gaze, her heart pounding in her chest like a forge hammer. Blood rushed though her head making her dizzy and leaving her ears ringing . The creature’s aspect had altered again, to take the form of a tall naked man with black feathered wings. A gesture of his hand caused her head to turn and face him, and her eyes to lock onto his deep red orbs.

Rall gasped in delight as smile crystallized over the creature handsome face. Those eyes seared into her, and she felt heat rising in her cheeks and belly. He reached toward her crooking a finger, and she moved for the first time since she found herself in the cavern. She took a halting step forward, drawn by desire even greater than her terror. And then the cavern was gone, and with it the thing, and her former master, and sunlight streamed down into her eyes.

“Good morning, children.”

Rall shook her... his... head the after images of a dream lingering just out of reach . A dream that a part of his mind found deeply disturbing. Sitting upright he looked around the room. Greta laid sound asleep next to him and Larenmireil was already up and about cooking breakfast. Watching Greta sleep curled up in her blanket, the thought occurred to him that both girls had spent the night sleeping next to him. He couldn’t help smiling at the thought, just as Greta creeped open an eye to look at him

“What are you smiling at?” she said with a yawn, his cheeks reddened at the moment of vulnerability. Before he could answer, Eludrale spoke up again.

“Interesting dreams child?” He looked at her querulously and she continued, “You called out in your sleep, so I came to check on you. You seem much revived with a little sleep, but you should drink some more restorative tea. For to reach the peak of Mount Erdrissar, you will need it.”

Greta perked up at this announcement. “Have they caught the man that attacked us last night?”

Frowning, she shook her head. “No dear, unfortunately they have not. But he will be weakened and unlikely to attack again, after putting such strain on his body as he must have, to elude the patrols.”

Pulling herself complete erected she looked at Rall with a pained expression “But that means he’s still out there. It’s to dangerous to climb the mountain.”

“It’s too dangerous not to... I feel pretty good, thanks to that tea, but I can feel it, like exhaustion trying to pull me to sleep, I’m weak and getting weaker. Madame Eludrale is right, I have to go today or Granth and I might both die.”

Eludrale nodded. “Your friend is correct, his life energies can not hold out for much longer, two nights perhaps. The dark child is an issue that can not be dealt with lightly, I will have the village guard to take you up as far as they can.”

“Why can’t the guard escort us all that way up?” Greta pressed. Larenmireil quickly interjected.

“The goddess would be insulted at a full patrol of guard escorting us up, and there is no point trying to seek help from an offended goddess” Rall noticed that Greta furrowed her brow, she didn’t exactly seemed pleased with the explanation but held her tongue.