An elven woman appears in a dusty room in Myth Drannor. Dark circles hang beneath her crystalline blue eyes. She walks to the bed and lifts a diary into her hands. She flips through some of the pages and suddenly bursts into tears. She finally lifts a quill from the bed and sits down, she pens:
I killed Lady Sanria's child. I was mad, certainly, but I must deal with crushing reality of what I have done. I do not believe I shall be able to handle it. The necklace is out of my hands, but only after opening holes in reality and somehow enabling others to do the same. I do not know what multiplicity I have permitted to come into being, but certainly the runed wizard is right - I will be at the end of every consequence to come of it. I do not believe I shall be able to handle it. Sir Colin had murder in his eyes when he held me up. He shook me so hard, but I deserved it. I would not have fought back had he chosen to slay me. I would give my life over and over again for the one I took. I can only think of one way to endure my shame and my solitude. I will use my lycanthropy. I know in time, it will become my nature and I will lose myself - but that is the price I am asking of myself. I will be nothing more than an animal. In time, none of this will matter.
The elven woman sighs and pens a quick letter to two people. She closes her eyes and they vanish from her hands, traveling by magic to those intended to receive them. She utters a few words and shimmers into a very large white wolf with crystal blue eyes. The wolf, the size of a small pony, takes a look around the room. She lifts her voice in a long, solitary howl and heads off into the Myth Drannor forests beyond.
