Regarding Kaliadra (1-2)

Sanria busied herself walking by the stream of her home reading a book entitled, "Secrets of the Woodland Dryad: A Confessional." She walked about, reading it thoughtfully, allowing Orn to follow behind her doing his best wobbly walk as he swung his stick like a metronome and babbled. At the sound of the doorbell, Sanria closed her book and made her way back to the cavern and to the front door. Without Colin in the house, she wasn't sure what to expect. Why would he be back already?

Sanria opened the door with a smile only to find the silver-haired priest looking back at her. "Gilamen... right?"

"Gilean, but you were close. Might I be able to talk to you?"

"Please."

Sanria let Gilean into the cavern and closed the door behind him. She led the way back out to the stream and seated herself, letting Orn go out into the water and plop happily down within the rushing water. She told Gilean how things had been going, to which the priest seemed honestly happy - re- lieved. "That is very good to see," he replied. "I was quite concerned for you."

"I can't remember a thing, so I guess there's no reason to be anything but."

"Well, it seemed that in and of itself was a source of concern for you before."

"Yes. It was. But we talked to the Druids in the Grove and it seems they and the trees agree I've been given a gift and shouldn't squander it. I was very troubled before."

"I must say, you seem to have found yourself quite nicely."

Although she didn't quite see how she found herself in that she still couldn't remember beyond her awakening, Sanria devoted her attention to Gilean as his smile faded. "There actually is something else that is concerning me and I had hoped to talk to you and your husband about."

"Perhaps I can help even if he isn't here," Sanria offered.

"Yes. Well, I sought out Miss Kaliadra not long after I visited you two last. I found her as a wolf, hidden away in a cave. It seems that she feels that, as a sort of self-imposed punishment for what she has done, she plans on exiling herself to live the rest of her life as a wolf."

Gilean continued to tell Sanria about his misgivings. "I feel this is my responsibility, but maybe it might mean something to have your forgiveness... perhaps even more to have your husband's."

"Well, we could go find her..."

"It may be worth a try. I should caution, that she may have already started to lose herself to being a wolf. We should be cautious."

"Would you be able to hold her back should she try something? I won't risk Orn."

At the sound of his name, the little boy rose from the stream and set off toward Sanria and Gilean at breakneck, baby-running speed, his diaper and robe sopping wet. "Perhaps we should leave the child at the temple while we attempt this?" Gilean said.

"Leave him?" The idea of separating from Orn was one that left Sanria feeling a little panicked.

"My brothers there can watch over him. We are very used to helping children."

Sanria took Orn's stick in hand and looked at the little boy. 'Mama is going to help the nice man. You can stay with his friends.' Immediately, Orn looked back at her with panic on his face.

'Mama go bye-bye? No Orn bye-bye?' Orn looked at Sanria, his lip trembling.

"It's okay. They're nice and fun..."

'No go bye-bye, Mama... No, no!' Orn stamped his feet and leaned against Sanria, soaking her.

"I don't believe he's willing," she said to Gilean. "He's had a hard time with Colin being gone."

"Alright then... but we must be cautious. I don't think she would be aggressive unless threatened even if she were no longer herself but I do not want any harm to come to anyone."

"Of course," Sanria replied.

It was decided and with a quick change of wet clothing, Sanria, Orn, and Gilean set off to meet with Kaliadra.

Wounded Heart

Claire sat in the chair at her home, staring into the flames of her fireplace. The glowing purple flames that normally lapped over her skin were absent, leaving her looking lack-lustre and a dull lavender. She couldn't understand how things went so wrong so quickly. But like the flames in the fireplace that quickly consumed the wood within, so too, were her dreams whisked into smoke.

She had met with Psycho to obtain her final quest to test her merit for entry into Radiant Heart. It troubled her that he sent her on a quest to kill a King for a trinket the man carried, especially given that he knew she was not a killer. Still, she went out in the hopes of impressing him - a fact that wore heavy on her soul. Branded a traitor by the trolls nearby, she was beaten within an inch of her life. She couldn't manage to make any headway. Psycho offered to help her along, but Claire couldn't help but feel that to have him aid her was only proving her inability to complete the quest on her own. When he grew angry with her - Claire's heart at last faltered. She had been expected to obey without question, and between her desire to please, her desire to be part of a family on Cruoris, her desire to remain free of killing, her desire to give aid - she had asked one too many.

Dejected, Claire had penned her letter to the Radiant Heart, withdrawing her application - then penned one to Psycho. The recollection of his voice in her mind haunted her - "I guess I was wrong about you, dear." She paused a moment in her writing and hung her head. Never before had she felt such a sting. She finished her letter and with a chant, sent both to the appropriate hands.

This is how she found herself staring into the fire that burned in her home: a dull purple being, her magic muted by the gaping absence she felt in her soul. The longer she stared at the flames, the more substantial the absence became, until the very void it had created grew its own mass to sink her into utter silence.