Welcome to Gaia! ::

The evening on the sands of Sentria set the world ablaze, sands hued red and orange, burnished marble structures gleaming like rubies in the flare of sunset. Through it all, Drake sat in his throne room, staring not at the magnificent sight laid out before him outside, but at the room around him. The room used to be opulent, with richly-colored banners of all different colors hanging from the walls, catching the light cast across the room in colored shards from stained-glass windows. Truly, it was a thing of beauty, back in its prime. He sat with one leg slung over the arm of the chair and the other angled comfortably in front of him, sole flat on the ground. He rested his elbow on the opposite arm of the chair, fist propped against his cheek as he stared hard at the wall. The combination of his posture and his hard, unyielding stare gave off a mixture of casual disregard, and yet of utter authority.

They should have had more.
They should have had everything.

The siege had been planned out; so much was plotted out entirely for them. Mordache was to enter and to wipe out the stupid Eyrisians and pave the way for the bandits to clean up the scraps. The Learanians couldn’t have comprehended the scope of the attack they were going to launch. They had a rather stupid habit of underestimating threats, after all. He should have been able to wade through a sea of blood and bodies, waltz right up to that castle unopposed, and go back home with that b***h king’s head on a pike. He should have been unto a god of war and destruction, creating some of the most profoundly-stabbing chaos that the country had ever seen. With the power of Mordache behind him, he should have won. Learania should have been his.

But that woman… that General, getting in his way and slowing him down. He had lost so much time trying to simply get her to stay down. And then those people inside the castle, especially that giant of a Sage and that damned nomad trash… He scowled and gripped his shoulder reflexively. Damn it all. Damn them all.

They should have been living as kings in the husk of the capital city, ruled by blood and the might of his blade. Instead they were forced to scurry home like common street rats, to lick their wounds and regroup once more. Back to the status quo. It was unforgiveable. They had earned that victory, and Learania had brought Estarcia and Adliana in to steal their prize away from them.

He would not stand for such impudence.

“Murphy!”

A figure clad in violet and black dropped from the rafters, landing soundlessly next to Drake. The young man seemed to prefer high places and solitude, and there was no better place in the castle to ensure privacy than to sit where others couldn’t reach you. The young man lifted his hood and let it fall down past his curly black hair and rest against his back, revealing a pair of sharp brown eyes. “Sir.”

“Round up the men outside. We’ve got business to take care of, and I’ve got a few things to say to those incompetent assholes. You have ten minutes. If someone refuses to follow you or listen, kill them.”

“Yes, sir.” Murphy was gone in an instant, with only the slightest rustle of fabric to indicate that he’d ever moved.

Drake sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, staring ahead. There was so much ground that had to be regained. Those Learanian bitches had to pay for this. Learania was still waiting for him, his glittering gem of a bounty once he managed to slay that child that sat on the throne. He wanted to kill him. This world was his for the taking, and it was simply a matter of finding men who could actually get the job done for once. The bandits were all proving to be incompetent asshats, and the only decent men he could find were few and far inbetween, and a good deal of them were either Mordachean scum, or they ended up getting themselves killed (like <******** idiots) against the Learanians.

“Why is everyone around here such a ******** idiot?” he muttered, pinching his nose between his eyes again. He fell quiet as he considered his options, staring at the floor at the other side of the room. The more time that passed, the more Learania could regroup and rebuild, and if he waited too long…

He was still sitting in sullen silence when ethereal laughter rang throughout the room, like the whisper of wind chimes.

“I see we’ve been thinking, Drake. A dangerous pastime!”

A wisp of smoke rose from the floor a few feet away from Drake before abruptly erupting into two twirling plumes of flame. Razevi appeared in the center of it as if she’d been there to begin with, dusting her immaculate dress off with a neat swipe of her hand. Ashes never fell upon her, but she always felt the need to observe those small behavioral tics, if just to tease people like Drake who regarded them as insulting. “Oh, do cheer up, darling. Someone must have told you that your face will freeze like that if you hold that face for too long!” She giggled, brushing a lock of flame red hair off of her face and away from her immaculate golden mask.

“Shut it,” he growled, hands tightening into fists. “I’ve got everything under control. We’re going to win this time.”

“What makes you think that, dear?” Wind chimes sounded again, and Drake took a deep breath to resist the urge to throw a punch at her face. “When you had the situation under control last, you were forced to flee—”

“—It was a tactical retreat,” Drake interjected, scowling darkly.

Razevi clapped her hands together, giggling. “My, what a vocabulary, darling!” she smiled serenely as Drake tried to steady himself, digging into his jacket pocket and removing a worn map. He unfolded it and stared hard, tracing the lines that divided countries and the roads and paths that he had crossed drawn out in black ink. It helped to calm him, planning and focusing on the next attempt.

Razevi, however, did not seem ready to quiet down. “I do hope you know what you’re getting into. You won’t have the same element of surprise this time. They know your tricks, your strategies. They’ll be preparing for you to arrive.” The sorceress was floating now, idly hovering next to and over Drake, turning over on her back and angling her head back to look Drake in the eye, upside-down though she was, and she gave him her best Cheshire grin, teeth and all. “I do hope you know what you’re doing. If you fail again—”

“—I know what I’m doing,” Drake interjected smoothly, taking a deep breath. Razevi smiled, eyes half-lidded, and turned herself over to float upright in front of him, arms folded neatly under her bust. “I have a plan. I’m re-gathering my men. There will be many preparations to complete. After all, what better option now, if I’ve already gone to them, than to have them simply come to us?”

Razevi smiled, eyes closing. She let out a small hum and reached out, opening her eyes again as she delicately cradled Drake’s face in her hands. He stared hard back at her, even as his breath sped up slightly. “I do so hope you do, sweetheart.” She smiled, fire flickering behind her eyes as she kissed his forehead delicately.

“I do fear what will become of you if you fail again.” Her voice echoed in the room as she disappeared in a single wisp of flame, trailed by a delicate, girlish laugh. As the wind chimes silenced, Drake stared at the map again, his lips turning up into a confident smile as his eyes gleamed. Learania was strong, and they had better tactics than Drake thought they deserved, but if they were anything, it was stubborn. As he charted routes along the map, tracing them with his finger, he couldn’t help but chuckle. There were numerous pockets of bandits throughout Sentria, many of them surviving for years on their own. And the with more of the Shadow Guild behind them this time, rather than that small attachment that Murphy had led… Drake couldn’t help but grin.

There was, after all, more than one way to win a war.

David lay on the floor, one hand holding a slate square in place, the other using a bit of chalk to painstakingly write the word WRATH.

“This is the first of the Great Sins, also called the Seven Deadly Sins,” said his older sister Amira. “These are the sins most frowned upon by the goddess, and the ones we should take the greatest care never to commit.” Amira sat next to David, her legs tucked almost beneath her, one arm supporting her as she looked over her little brother’s writing. He carefully wrote the definition she gave: “Wrath is rage, anger, violence, self-destruction, impatience, and revenge. It can be directed at yourself as well as at another person or people. The opposite of wrath is patience and understanding, which is the first of the Seven Virtues the goddess wishes her children to nurture and practice. But I’ll tell you about those later; let’s talk about the sins first.”

David nodded, his dark hair bouncing up and down. He didn’t completely understand everything his sister had just said, but he got the part about anger. His gray eyes stared at the slate; he readjusted the chalk in his hand. “Number two is . . . lust?” he asked, trying to remember.

“Pride,” Amira corrected. “P-R-I-D-E. Often thought to be the source of the other sins, it is possibly the deadliest. Pride is loving oneself, wanting to be more important than everyone else, and not caring about the good things others do.”

“That sounds like Kalik,” David said softly.

The girl shoved David lightly with her free hand. “Don’t let him hear you say that! Your eldest brother would do worse than father if he knew you thought him guilty of pride.”

“No, he wouldn’t.”

Amira grew quiet. “Yes,” she whispered. She adjusted her skirt, fiddled with her braided hair, anything to not look at her youngest brother. Clearing her throat first, she continued, “Lust is the third sin. It’s, ah, desire. Of um—a certain nature. Too much desire, that is.”

David slowly wrote LUST on the slate. He thought of his other brother, but said nothing, not wanting his sister to shove him again. His arm hurt where she’d touched him. Instead, he asked, “After Lust is Gluttony, right? And then Greed?”

“That’s right,” his sister nodded. “Gluttony is having too much of one thing, to the point where it gets wasted, like having so much to eat that you make yourself sick. Greed is similar to Lust and Gluttony—it is also a sin of excess, of wanting or having too much of something. Greed means wanting money, status, or power.”

Inside, David smiled a little. There was no way he, his siblings, or his father could ever commit gluttony—they had just enough to get by, now that two of David’s sisters had gone (Amira still wouldn’t tell him where). He knew what Greed was by example, too: the head Shaman in their village had tried to get more power, and that power had—well, they had a new head Shaman now, a man who was not so greedy.

“Sixth is Envy, also called jealousy,” Amira went on. “Envy is like Greed; one who is envious wants something, but unlike Greed, they also want that thing to be taken away from the person who does have it.”

“Like when Amalia wanted that necklace from the wander merchant—she wanted to take it from the lady who had it.”

“Right,” Amira nodded. “Amalia was jealous of the lady for having such a pretty necklace, and she wanted it for herself. That’s Envy.”

David rubbed his nose, smearing a line of chalk on it. Amira pulled a cloth rag from her pocket and wiped the mark off; David tried to pull away at first, but relented.

“Seventh and last is Sloth,” Amira said, putting the rag back into her pocket. SLOTH, David wrote, after his sister spelled it for him.

“It means to be lazy, neglecting the goddess’s words, and not doing anything, not taking action or not feeling anything. Sloth isn’t as bad as some of the others, but it is still not good. You can’t just not do anything—the goddess has a purpose for your life, so you must use what life she has given you to do what she has planned for you.”

David kept writing the meaning of Sloth, but inside, he wanted to hide.

Of course, Amira knew him better than anyone else, and she noticed the change in his demeanor, the slight shift where he’d tucked his arms closer in, hunched his shoulders just the tiniest bit, as if trying to make himself smaller.

“David?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

He did not respond.

“David . . . have you been slothful?”

Slowly, shamefully, David nodded. He glanced around, but the small room was empty save for the boy and his sister; assured of this fact, David went to the far corner, where his bedclothes and mat had been put away for the day. Reaching between the folds of fabric, he pulled out a book, beautifully bound in purple-dyed leather etched with arcane symbols. Several of the pages were missing, jagged edges the only remains.

Amira’s eye grew wide. “Where did you get that?” she questioned, knowing full well what that book was: a tome of dark magic, Flux.

David did not answer her, but instead opened the spellbook. He read the words on the page softly to himself, and then raised his hands to chest height, arms parallel to the floor. The tome hovered before him, once he released it to position his fingers. As he continued to chant, a ball of glowing purple light appeared between his hands, growing bigger and bigger in spurts of energy. David’s hair and clothes blew in a sudden breeze. The ball quickly formed a magic circle that flickered and flashed as it continued to increase in size. Abruptly it sank into the floor, an odd groaning noise filling the room.

The second it did, David moved his hands to either side of his face, splaying his fingers. A spark quickly grew into a large sphere above his head, and then sank into the ground. Another, larger magic circle appeared on the floor a few feet in front of the boy, formed into tendrils of black light edged in purple that coalesced into the largest ball yet, and finally exploded with an eerie whine, the light swirling away into nothing.

David lowered his arms and the breeze ceased. The only damage had been done to the book: another page was gone, torn bits left behind.

Amira stared, mouth agape. “How long have you been able to do that?”

David shrugged. “I watched the Shaman. Once I could read what I was supposed to say, it was easy.”

“So where did you get the tome from?”

The boy looked down at the floor again. “. . . From your books,” he mumbled.

Amira tilted her head. “You shouldn’t take someone else’s things without asking, you know that.”

He nodded, ashamed.

“I’m not mad that you did, but—do you realize you could have hurt yourself if the spell had gone badly? Magic—especially dark magic—is dangerous, David!”

He shuffled his feet, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything bad.”

“I know you didn’t,” Amira said. She stood, approached her brother, and stopped to pick up the tome. Thumbing through it, she noticed just how many pages were absent. “. . . How many times have you cast this spell?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Over half of this tome is gone, and you’ve not hurt yourself? Or anyone else?”

David shook his head.

Amira watched him for a long moment. “When I was your age, I could not do what you just did.”

She watched him for a moment more, and then said, “Come—we shall go where Father cannot find us, and I shall teach you what I can of the elder magic. Later, I’ll write to Grandmother and Grandfather. I am certain they will be more than willing to teach you.”

“No!”

“What?”

“I don’t want to learn more,” David said.

“Why not?” Amira questioned. “You have a gift, David—you should use it!”

“I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to?” she repeated. “The goddess wants us to use our gifts—would you disobey her? Would you—would you commit the sin of sloth? Why? Why would you do that?”

David fell silent. Finally, he muttered, “Father will get mad.”

“Then we will make sure Father does not find out. I only know so much, but our grandparents will help us.”

“I don’t want their help.”

“So you will continue to sin?”

“Yes,” David mumbled miserably.

His sister fell silent again. He stood there and fidgeted.

“Why? I don’t understand, David. Tell me.” When he did not reply, she asked, “Please?”

He continued to stare at the floor. “I’ll be—slothful,” he said finally, “and not do magic if Father won’t—because if Father finds out, he’ll—” David froze. One hand clutched the opposite arm; he flinched and let go.

Amira sat in stunned silence. Slowly, hesitantly, she put the tome down and took her brother’s hand in hers, not letting him pull away when he tried to. Carefully, she pushed back the sleeve of his shirt. Shades of blue and purple colored his arm from below his elbow up to his shoulder.

Her eyes overflowed; she flung her arms around her baby brother, holding him close, and shaking.

“You are such a good boy.” she whispered through tears. “You are such a good child.”

David sat there, let his sister cling to him and cry. He winced when she squeezed too tight.

“I’m sorry,” Amira said. “I’m so sorry.”

Slowly, hesitantly, David moved his arms and hugged her, too. His small hands rested on her back.

Slowly, hesitantly, his hands grabbed onto her dress.

He did not let go.

“Nils… I don’t think you’ll forgive me no matter how I apologize, but just hear me out. Our power is no match for Nergal. Even so, we can’t give up. I have to fulfill Ninian’s wish, too. I will never, ever flee from that duty.”
“….” Nils watched Eliwood walk away.



“Ninian?”
“Yes, Nils?” the young, blue haired dancer said. The smile on her face vanished, but her younger could see the happiness in her red eyes.
“You seem . . . happier,” Nils said as he looked over to see what Ninian was watching.
Sitting over by a campfire was Eliwood of Pherae, the son of the late Marquess Elbert. Next to the red headed man sat his good friends Hector of Ostia and Lyndis, or Lyn, of Caelin. With them were others of their group. Nils was surprised by how many of the people he and his sister, Ninian, travelled with looked so carefree. Almost as if they were not in the middle of a war.
“Happier?”
“Ever since we started travelling with Lord Eliwood your smile has been brighter. You laugh more, too.”
“I-I do?”
“Ninian… Remember not to get too close to them. We’re….” Nils sighed. “We’re different from them, and you know we can’t stay here for much longer.”
“I know that Nils, but….”
“But what?”
Ninian smiled as she looked at her brother. Nils liked seeing his sister’s smile, but inside he felt angry that she was smiling. “Lord Eliwood and the others… they treat us so kindly I….”



“I’m going to fall!” Nils yelled as he was hoisted up onto Hector’s shoulders. The desert was suddenly that much farther away.
“Hush up, boy! I won’t drop you.” Hector tried to sound serious, but he could not help but laugh. Lyn laughed as she watched the young blue haired boy grabbed tightly onto Hector’s head.
The wobbling stopped once Nils looked over to see where his sister was. She was with Eliwood and was slightly leaning on his arm. Nils could see them talking and laughing. He knew that look in Ninian’s eyes. The boy was not sure what the feeling was, but he felt a burning inside of him seeing Eliwood that close with Ninian.
“What’s wrong, Nils?” Lyn asked. The boy had become oddly quiet after complaining that he was going to fall.
“Oh, um, it’s nothing,” Nils replied.
Lyn looked from Nils down to Hector. The lord gave a light shrug as he helped Nils get down off of his shoulders. “Don’t lie to me, Nils,” Lyn said with a smile. “You’re thinking about Eliwood and Ninian, aren’t you?”
“I--”
“Just let it happen, kid,” Hector cut Nils off.
“But I don’t want it to happen!” Nils shouted loud enough to make the red head and blunette look over at them.
“Nils?” Ninian said before noticing someone in the desert. “Um, Lord Eliwood?”
“Ninian?” Eliwood asked.
“Over there… someone is under attack.”
Nils watched as Lord Eliwood and his companions went into battle against some bandits in an attempt to help protect a man that was surrounded. The young boy mentally noted that Lord Eliwood and Ninian remained side by side the entire battle.
“Is something wrong, Nils?” Kent, a noble knight of Caelin who had elected to stay behind and guard Nils, asked the young boy. “I have never seen a hostile look from you before,” Kent commented.
“Sir Kent… I’m not sure why since he’s so nice to us, and I know he’s the one that’s meant to save us, but for some reason I always get so… annoyed when he’s around Ninian.”
“Ninian is around Lord Eliwood quite often.”
“She always talks about him, too,” Nils said. One could hear the annoyance in his voice. “It’s been a long time since Ninian hasn’t talked about Lord Eliwood.”
The ginger haired knight asked, “It angers you that she speaks of him often?”
“It does! It was always just us, and now all she wants to do is be around Lord Eliwood! I’m so… so….”
“Could you perhaps be jealous of Lord Eliwood?”
“…jealous? Of Lord Eliwood?”
“Yes. You get angry when your sister mentions him, correct? Perhaps you are jealous that Lord Eliwood is getting more attention from Ninian than you are,” Kent said.
“Jealous….”



“Those two… I can’t tell if they’re friends or not,” Eliwood said to Ninian as the two watched Hector and Lyn run off into the small town in Bern. The group had just been transported there by Lord Athos after meeting with him in the desert.
Ninian laughed which caught Eliwood, and Nils who was following closely behind them, by surprise.
“You’re like their chaperone!” Nils heard Ninian say with a laugh. He saw the young red-headed lord sigh.
Nils continued to hear his sister laugh as he wondered why annoyance was building up inside of him. He should be happy that his sister was laughing and smiling, but the fact that it was to Lord Eliwood and not to him made the annoyance worse.
“…I like it when you laugh,” Nils heard Eliwood say. Nils immediately looked at his sister and saw her blushing.
“Ninian!” Nils said as he grabbed his sister’s sleeve.
“Yes, Nils?” Ninian asked as both she and Eliwood looked at the boy.
“Ah, I, I just saw your face turn red and I wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.”
The blunette smiled. “Thank you, Nils. I’m doing fine. I was just laughing at how Lord Eliwood is like a chaperone to Lord Hector and Lady Lyndis.”
“Oh, that’s… a relief.” It was all Nils could do to avoid the concerned look Eliwood gave him.



“I hope Lord Eliwood and the others are okay…,” Ninian said to her brother as the two stayed in hiding outside of the Palace of Bern. Eliwood, Hector, and Lyn had snuck inside the palace walls to find out more information about the fire emblem and the Bern royal family.
“Ninian. All you ever talk about is Lord Eliwood now,” Nils said. The hostility in his voice surprised him. The look on Ninian’s face showed her shock as well.
“Nils? I…”
“Don’t fall in love with him, Ninian! We aren’t like them! You don’t have to hide anything from me… I can tell that you care about Lord Eliwood, but do not fall in love! We’re… different. If you stay here then you won’t live much longer. You can’t leave me, Ninian. We barely belong at our home as it is, without you I….”
“Nils. I… I need time to think. May I be alone, please?” Ninian said then walked away.
“Ninian…,” Nils said as he reached out to his sister. His hand gripped at air as she walked away. He clenched his palm into a fist. “Lord Eliwood….”



“Where’s Ninian?” Nils asked as he saw tears begin to form in Lyn’s eyes.
“Nils… I’m so sorry I…,” Eliwood said as tears formed in his own eyes. His gaze fell to the girl in his arms.
He took her, Nils thought.
“I thought you were supposed to protect the one you loved,” Nils said as he looked at Ninian’s lifeless body. “Ni…ni…an…uh…aaaaaaaaaah!” Nils collapsed to the ground in sorrow.



Nils watched Eliwood. The boy stood with the pirate captain Fargus as the red hair and blue cape faded into the distance.
“Uh-oh! I forgot to give them something important,” Captain Fargus said. “Something they could use in battle. Nothing to be done but to send someone after them….”
“…I’ll go.”
“You sure you want to do it?”
“I… I am.”
Fargus smiled as he handed Nils the Earth Seal. “Live and return, welp.”
Nils smiled as he ran off following after Eliwood.



“Come, Nils, let us return to our world,” the blunette said as she turned to her brother.
“Ninian, you know, I… I used to be jealous of Eliwood.”
“What?” the girl asked while Eliwood stayed silent.
“You were always talking about him ever since he saved you back when we first met Lyn. I didn’t mind it at first, but then we met Lord Elbert. I meant what I said about loving Lord Elbert and his family, but it drove me crazy that you talked about Lord Eliwood even more after hearing the stories. I watched you grow closer to him, and it felt like you had forgotten about me.”
“Nils, I…”
“My jealousy boiled over when I heard Nergal say that you came to your senses once you heard Lord Eliwood’s name… but that was right when you died. I… I didn’t want to think about anything then. I was so angry and jealous that your last words were to Lord Eliwood and not me. I probably would’ve stayed in that state for a lot longer if it wasn’t for Lord Eliwood.”
“I never did--”
“You understood me,” Nils cut Eliwood off. “You understood the pain and sadness that I felt after Ninian was killed, and you didn’t judge me for having those feelings. If you hadn’t said what you had to me… I probably would have started to hate you. Lord Eliwood I… I’m no longer jealous of you. I’m actually jealous of you, Ninian.”
Ninian blinked. “Why would you be jealous of me?”
“You found someone who doesn’t judge others. He treats us like he treats everyone else. Lord Eliwood also loves you enough to do anything for you. He doesn’t care that you will not live for much longer, that your strength will not return, and the circumstances of our birth don’t mean anything to him. He cares about who we are as people. I envy you for finding someone like that.”
Nils smiled at his sister and Eliwood. “Lord Eliwood… Please cherish her. Ninian, I want to live a long time. If I stay in this world, I don’t think I’ll have enough time to find what you found in Lord Eliwood.”
“…Nils….”
“I’m off,” Nils said with a true smile.
“Be well, kid,” Hector said.
“I’ll miss you…,” Lyn said with a smile as her eyes began to water.
“I’ll never forget you, Nils,” Eliwood said as he placed his arm around Ninian, showing that he will protect her this time.
“….Nils….”
“Smile, Ninian. And don’t cry. Even if we’re apart… even if we never see each other again… our bond will never break. More importantly, Sister… Live as long as you can… and be as happy as you can… so that I may always want to be and strive to be just as happy as you are.”

The wars in Eyris were definitely starting to intensify. All the news that Victoria heard of the conflict between their country and Mordache had traveled back to where she stayed, in a humble healers’ ward that was within one of the only Elimine churches that stood inside the city. She thought of how troubling these times were growing to be. Every time a battlefield update came, it left her wondering just one question.

“Why aren’t they asking me to join them?” She would think to herself. At every twist and every turn that this narrative of Learania had, she had been decidedly left out of the picture. Almost every time, she missed the action in one way or another.

“I am not one who craves violence. That is not why I am here.” She would keep thinking as she folded the linens for more medical beds, or dipped the bandages in the special vulnerary ointment. “However, I cannot help but feel like I am not a major player in all this. What must the rest of the guild think of me? Do they picture me as a lazy coward who never ventures to the front lines? Before I lost Arashe, I used to be fearless!”

Was his loss what was driving her to back away from the front lines? She had to admit there was a connection, as she mixed a few herbs together to make some more very important remedies. The healer should have predicted that even those close to her would eventually fall. It was all a part of life. Besides, wasn’t it foolish to get so close to people? Most healers in the world couldn’t stop the eventual end of the circle of life. They could only help so many.

“But I’m not most healers! I am not just a small face in the crowd! I am exceptional! I am St. Elimine’s messenger!” Victoria thought to herself as she finished crushing the herbs together. She took some of the well water she had drawn earlier and poured it into the remedy potion, before corking the bottle and swirling it together. It blended almost perfectly, like magic. “Look at that. There is no one else who would make such a fine anti-toxin…”

And she wasn’t just good at mixing. Victoria was pretty sure that she was the best at everything. From using her healing gifts to casting light magic, the bishop knew that she was exceptional even for one of her distinguished class. She could help out in this war effort! Victoria could even turn the tables around if she were only able to step out onto the front lines once again. It was then that she realized what she had to do. Setting down the potion-making instruments, the bishop placed her scarf upon her shoulders, and gripped her staff that was hanging on the wall.

“Sister Victoria! Where are you headed? There are still a lot more people that need your help!” One of the priests exclaimed. His tone was rushed and worried.

“I have something to ask the Crew.” Victoria replied to one of her aides that were hard at work. “I’ll be back later.” She added. How much later though, she could not say.
------

For Rath, the Vice Captain of FEF, it was just another day at the office. He was filling out so much paperwork, all the letters and the lines were beginning to blend together. The nomad blinked twice, allowing the writing to come into focus. He dipped his quill pen in another bottle of ink, preparing to sign another order that would bring more troops to the front lines in the war against Mordache. Before he could form the first letter of his name, a Learanian soldier walked in, saluting.

“… what is it?” Rath asked, taking a look up from his paperwork.

“Sir, a priestess from the Elimine Church demands to see you. I have told her several times that you’re in the middle of important business…” The soldier was about to trail on. When Rath held up his hand, he stopped talking.

“Let her in. I’ll make this quick.” The nomad told him.

“Yes sir!” The Learanian soldier replied. He gave the crew member another salute before he did an about face, and exited through the doors.

Victoria walked into the office hurriedly after the soldier departed. The bishop had to catch her breath, before she finally decided to sit down in a chair that was right across from Rath's desk. By the way she was catching her breath, it seemed as if she ran all the way here from the Elimine Church. She looked upon the guild's Vice Captain with eyes that were steeled, as if she had something important to say. Rath kept his gaze upon her, as if giving his unspoken permission for her to speak.

"Vice Captain Rath." Victoria begun, pausing. She was trying to find the right words to say to him. "I have a request... no..." She shook her head. Request was not a right word for this situation! She had to be firm. "I have a demand, sir."

"... what position are you in for making demands?" Rath asked her out loud. “May I remind you who has authority here?”

"I think it's a demand that we would both agree with!" Victoria exclaimed. "Sir, I would like to serve as a healer on the front lines. My light magic makes me far more qualified to help our soldiers than any magic of those druids or anima magicians that you have sent out there. Why do you think our casualties have risen-"

"You dare blame the other healers for our casualties? I did not know St. Elimine’s servants to be so selfish." Rath interrupted her. His voice gained sharpness to it as he cast the lady healer a glare. "Who do you think you are?"

"I am Saint Elimine's messenger! I was given the gifts of healing and holy magic!" Victoria exclaimed. She clenched her hands into fists, holding them at the sides of her chair. "And I was given these gifts, I believe, to aid this guild in its struggles! Otherwise the Lady Saint would not have led me on this righteous path to Learania! Can't you understand that?"

Rath wore a straight face throughout the bishop's outburst. He could not relate to her being a "messenger" of St. Elimine, because that was not his religion. However, he was familiar with the emotion that the priestess displayed. He also had his own pride, in what he was, and where he was. There was a time and a place for pride though. And this was not it.

"Sister Victoria, is it? I can't permit you to follow the magicians on the front line. If I send any more, we will not have enough staffs here to help our warriors returning from the front. You must understand that." He told her. His voice sounded cold and uncaring, but he was doing what was best for the guild as a whole. Rath knew what he was saying was reasonable. "I cannot grant your wish. Now, return to the St. Elimine Church. They need you there."

"Is that all you're going to say?! You're unbelievable!" Victoria exclaimed, raising her voice. Of course, she knew that it was a mistake. No matter what clamor she made, she did not see a change in the crew member's face. But she wasn't thinking about that. All she could imagine now was how much more her talents would be wasted just waiting at home. "I know that you've seen my magic first hand! Should I remind you, that without my abilities, you wouldn't even be here right now?"

Rath's eyes never let the priestess out of his sight. He couldn't remember the time when she used her staff to save him from his own execution, but he would not doubt the words of his daughter who described it in detail. He was grateful to be saved, but the nomad felt no need to say it. Was it necessary for the Sister to raise her voice like that? He would not change his mind. "I have told you my answer once." He said sternly. "Now, if that is your only business, please be gone. Be grateful for what you can use your magic for."

"Why you!" Victoria wanted to call the man so many names, but she stopped herself. She would not let him win twice by denying her request and having to call the guards to show her the door. The lady bishop stepped up from the chair, storming outside of the office. Her angry steps continued down the hall, as she made the quickest exit she ever could from Eyris Castle. ”He really is unbelievable!” she thought bitterly. ”He didn’t even thank me!”

Just as she made it outside of the castle walls, he looked longingly at a line of supply convoys that were all parked outside a gate, ready to leave town. Hopeful young warriors with dreams of glory and experienced veterans with a few scars to show it all boarded the convoys, each of them armed with an assortment for weapons. They were all ready, in their own ways, to fight for their country. They would all do their best to use their talents and wisdom to ensure Eyris's victory.

"If only I were going with them." Victoria thought, as she heard the commanders of the troops file them into the horse-drawn convoys. One by one, they piled on. Some of them might not make it back, but at least they could have the pride of having fought for the honor and defense of Learania.

The wheels of another wagon were heard in the distance. The healer ducked behind a wall, as if to hide herself from any onlookers. The wagon stopped in motion, almost right in front of her line of sight. Looking upon it, an idea suddenly formed. Maybe she could go to the front lines. Why did she even need some guild crew’s permission? She was and adult and a missionary! Victoria struck out on her own once before. She could do it again.

"All I have to do is board that. Once I'm on, they'll never turn me away, especially when they see my magic." Victoria thought. She grinned. She took a step, about to make her first move in being one of the only healers brave enough to become a stowaway.

As she made her second step though, Victoria heard a whistle blow. She knew that whistle well. It was the sound that they used to signal the healers, because whoever was coming back was in no condition to walk and play the part of the messenger. The whistle's dull sound froze her steps in place. It felt as if her world slowed down when another horse-drawn carriage made its way in through the gate. Although its speed was fast and urgent, making its way down the Eyris streets to a church that was nearby, Victoria felt as if it were going in slow motion. There must have twenty, if not thirty warriors in there. She could tell by glimpsing through the canvas of the transport wagon. All of them were wounded. All of them needed the help of someone with her gift.

"But there are many others who follow Elimine and also have the gift of Light and healing!" Her prideful thoughts nagged at her from within. "You have to get on that wagon that's abroad! How else can you really help the war effort?"

"No, those thoughts are wrong." Victoria shook her head. "As a follower of St. Elimine, we are to be selfless and pious. We are not to seek glory and fame, no matter how much of a blessing our powers were.”

Her feelings leaned more toward returning. Returning to the life in which she always knew, where she was settled, and always waiting. The waiting was hard on anyone back home. If she were to stay, Victoria could not fight beside the people that she had come to call her friends and family. Was that really what she wanted to walk back to? What was she to do? Hopping on the wagon would mean she wouldn't wait anymore, but stepping back would mean doing her holy and medical duties.

She found herself unable to choose for the moment. Although she was sick of hearing the news instead of being a part of the action, Victoria could not abandon that which she swore to do. She was blessed with the gifts of the Lady Saint, of the light tome and the healing staff. These were gifts however, were being wasted in a simple healer's ward that offered no fame or glory to speak of, weren't they? St. Elimine was world renowned for what her magic was capable of! So why couldn't Victoria have the same spotlight?

"I should choose pretty soon. If that other convoy leaves, then I won't be able to go." She thought. What would it be? Fame, or duty? To go along with her emotions, or with reasoning? She felt as if it was a decision that she could not make on her own. What was she supposed to do?

Victoria did the only thing that she knew how to do in this type of situation. She grasped her hands together, shutting her eyes. The priestess shut herself off from the world for just this moment, hoping to hear the voice of her patron saint. "Oh St. Elimine. I have gone astray. I feel as if my gifts are wasted within the walls of the simple clinic, but before me are so many that need my power. Tell me, what would you have done?"

As she entered her prayer, Victoria begun to remember why St. Elimine was so famous. She did not go out of her way to claim glory and fortune. The Lady Saint became remembered as who she was because she would go out of her way to save the people. "No matter what their faith, our merciful St. Elimine would always reach out to the downtrodden with helping hands." Victoria recalled the passage from her teachings, but it meant much more here. It made her remember the reason that she took up the staff and became a missionary in the first place.

The priestess opened her eyes. As if a clear answer showed itself before her, she made her decision. Taking a few steps, Victoria bypassed the convoy that would be taking even more Learanian fighters to the front lines. Her steps broke into a run. Her staff was already handy as she made the hasty approach to the wagon that held the wounded warriors.

She approached them with a smile. Victoria had remembered, and always would remember her number one reason she was blessed with her gifts. Two other priests were already frantically using their own staffs to help out. There was no reason not to join them though.

"You have no reason to fear anymore." She said. The jeweled end of her staff was glowing. "I am Sister Victoria, St. Elimine's messenger. I've come to deliver Her kindness unto you." She said calmly. Her staff touched the wound of one of the injured warriors, and it begun to mend with its soothing aura. There would be many more needed, and it would be hard work. But now St. Elimine's messenger knew the right place to put her pride.