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Raemos had been home for a few weeks, and the angry red wounds on his body were starting to properly heal. The Guardians had given him time off - as much as he needed, he'd been told - and his parents had been happy to take him in. There were many things to be done - thank the young half-khehora scout who had carried the news back to the guild and saved his life and sanity, attend her promotion, send the news out to his friends... What friends? said a nasty little thought in her voice, What friends do you have? You, a nobody, a nothing, caught between two worlds? the echo of her too-soft touch on his cheek, Just family, just me, just us... Raemos began to shake, gripping the wood of the split-log fence for stability. Just me, your dear mother... he shook his head, trying to shut out the voice, the memory. My Sanadeyr

Raemos bit back a scream, his skin itching and stomach churning with revulsion. His wounds ached - a phantom pain born of memories of their inflicting rather than any true pain. He closed his empty sockets and arched his wings about him, trying to focus on the warmth of the sun... the earthy smell of Sheron dung... the solidity of the fence... Eventually he calmed, though his tail still twitched and writhed. His wounds may have been healing well, and he might be physically sound, but the wounds within... those, he knew, would take longer to heal.

"Raemos!" his mother - his REAL mother - called from the cottage, "We have the mail!"

"That's good, Mama!" he called back, waving to her. She couldn't know how upset he was. He wasn't ready to tell her any more than he already had.

"Theres a letter for you!" she said, holding an envelope over her head.

It didn't look official. Raemos walked over, curious. "Who's it from?" he asked, taking the envelope.

"Oh, someone named Shenra... She was an Orderite you know, right?"

"Yes." said Rae, reading the front before flipping it over and opening it neatly, "A friend of mine, and of Vona's..." He read the letter. "Why, this says..." he read it over again, just to be sure. "She's coming here!" A slew of mixed feelings stirred potently inside him.

"When?" His mother was excited. They rarely had visitors to the ranch, especially since Raemos's guild friends had shipped out in preparation for the oncoming war. And, especailly, since Raemos had asked to not be visited for a few more weeks. He needed time.

He frowned. "It says... her estimate... is today." He let his hand fall. "Oh dear." he said.

"Seren's eyes!" his mother exclaimed, "I'd better get ready!" She hustled back inside, whistling a merry tune. Raemos looked over the desert, to the edge of it's endless horizon, stunned...