Rilvuldra was finally awake and fully conscious for the first time in over three days. She denied any food Leravacha offered her, much to the Chieftain's grief, but she did, however, accept a cup of water.

She sat up in her fur blanketed bed, looking dully around the room. Pale light shined in through the highset window, but it was dim and did little to illuminate the surroundings. Not that there was anything special about the chamber, anyway. It was one of the healing rooms Hakrynsif had set up in the Longhouse once she had ran out of space in the temple. It had originally been a storage room.

"You said that Hakrynsif went to talk to those five strangers?" she said after a while. She weakly turned her head to Leravacha, who sat in a chair next to the bed.

The Chieftain nodded. "There is a mage among them. She thinks that he can heal you."

Rilvuldra ever so slightly smiled. She looked down at her thin, skeletal hands. "Hakrynsif has a good heart, but she is still young and naive." She shook her head of long dark hair. "The mage cannot heal me, Lera. No one can." She looked back at Leravacha. "But that doesn't mean that you get an excuse to not lead your people out of this apocalypse and just give up."

"Don't talk like that!" Leravacha's voice choked and she clenched her fist. She looked up and quickly wiped her eyes. "You're not leaving me anytime soon, Rilvuldra. You can't."

"I will never leave you, dearest one." Rilvuldra gently moved her hand and grabbed a hold of her wife's. "I will always be here. You will just not be able to see me." She smiled sadly and nodded reassuringly. "Everything will be fine, so as you remember your job. Now, how is Tribesmen's Bay? Have you made contact with your brother yet?"

Leravacha averted her gaze to the window. She was quiet a moment before saying, "No. And neither do I plan on it. We can hold the monsters at the Bay on our own. They come out only a few at a time."

"Leravacha!" Rilvuldra's brown eyes narrowed. Her grip on the Cheiftain's hand, though weak, tightened. "Our people are dying. Parents have been forced to bury their children's ashes. I saw a young, seven year old child, weeping over his parent's bodies. And now, because of that rift, we are losing our army at an even faster rate than before! We cannot hold the Bay alone, and you are an idiot for saying such a thing!"

"I have not talked to my brother in years!" Leravacha shouted back. "Zairyk will have nothing to do with me, unless it involves my head on a pike. He is a Warlord, and you have seen how he rules the Vondas Tribe. What makes you think that he will help us?"

"Don't you know that the Vondas are also dying? These are desperate times, Lera. If you do not send for him, then our people will die because of you." Rilvuldra let go of her wife's hand with a scowl. "Zairyk is our only hope at survival."

She opened her mouth to say more, but a coughing spasm suddenly racked her frail body. She leaned forward, clutching at her chest and gasping for air between coughs.

"Water," she wheezed when it passed.

Leravacha quickly grabbed the cup of water off of the table and handed it to Rilvuldra, her eyes wide with concern. She watched as the sickly woman graciously drank it. Rilvuldra winced as the room temperature liquid forced its way down her parched and burning throat.

When she had emptied the cup, she weakly handed it back to Leravacha and laid back down, breathing heavily. She closed her eyes.

"I'll send word to Zairyk," Leravacha whispered, "immediately. You're right. You always are." She wiped away a tear that threatened to escape her eye and gently grasped her wife's thin, rough hand.

Rilvuldra opened her eyes for a few moments before once again shutting them. "You know, when I was younger, I used to want to explore the world, and experience all it had to offer. My grandfather would...tell me stories, about his travels...and the myths and legends of the elves to the south and fae to east and west." She smiled. "I've always imagined the elves to be so....lovely, from what he told me...."

"They are," Leravacha said quietly. She rubbed Rilvuldra's hand, trying to warm it and keep it from shaking. "And the fae are just as magical as you could ever imagine, dearest one."

"Do you think...that you could bring those strangers to me? I want to talk to them, before I lose the chance to." Rilvuldra's head rolled to the side. Her breathing was almost non existent. "I have words that I want to share with them."

Leravacha nodded. She wiped her eyes once again. "I will send somebody to get them. They will be here soon, just...please don't go anywhere."

~-~-~-~

"So...you want us to heal your sister's...wife?" Varenyl lifted a blond eyebrow. He glanced at the others. "Well, unless she has a nasty wound from the battlefield, I can't. I'm only good at performing amputations and working with the odd sword to the gullet or an axe to the shoulder type thing. If I was good at curing illnesses, I could have probably eased my daughter's pain," he added with a frown. He crossed his arms over his chest and fell into a brooding silence.

"Please," Hakrynsif begged. She sat in the chair rigid and straight backed, her heart in her eyes. "One of you must be able to help. Surely you, a wizard, can?" She looked at Lorthrendel.

"Me? There isn't a spell in existence that can heal," the fae coldly returned. "Many have tried to create one themselves, but it always ends in failure and usually a destroyed laboratory, plus a few disintegrated apprentices, although the latter is a bit rare." He shrugged and pushed his glasses back up the brim of his nose. "Not even Selyrinia's Black Mages have that power. True healing belongs to the clerics and the clerics alone. I am sorry, my dear, but we cannot help you."

"Not that we even want to, at this point," Ragnus blurted out in rage. He jabbed a finger at the High Priestess, his eyes barely visible underneath his bushy eyebrows. Hakrynsif jumped at his sudden movement. "You 'n your sister lock us up in here and then expect us to help you? I think not, lass."

Isendir cast the dwarf a warning glance. "Ragnus, shut up. Hakrynsif, I am sorry but we cannot help Rilvuldra." The Highlander shook his head. "I-"

The door opened again. A warrior poked his head inside. "Lady Hakrynsif. The Chieftain said that she needs you and the outlanders in Lady Rilvuldra's chambers immediately." He cast them all a dark glance before shutting the door.

Hakrynsif slowly looked back at the companions, who, not knowing the Drangok language, didn't have clue what the warrior had said. She stood up. "We can discuss this later. Come. My sister has summoned us all."

"It had better be her letting us go," Ragnus grumbled. He shook his head of wispy white hair.

The walk back to the Longhouse took only a few minutes. When they got there, Hakrynsif led them to the back to Rilvuldra's chambers.

"Chieftain," the High Priestess said as soon as they walked in, "we are here." She looked over and saw Rilvuldra looking at the companions with dim eyes.

"So...you are the outlanders?" Rilvuldra whispered hoarsly. She smiled. "It is good to meet you. I hope my sister has been hospitable for you."

"She locked us in an abandoned house," Ragnus snapped. The dwarf crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Leravacha.

Rilvuldra's eyes widened. She looked at Leravacha as if the Cheiftain had just been accused of murdering a kitten. "Lera!"

"I'm sorry, I was just...I had a lot on my mind." The Chieftain heaved a deep sigh and buried her head in her hands. "Well, they're here. Go on and say what you wanted to."

"Let me try and get your names right." Rilvuldra struggled to sit up to get a clear look at the companions. "You...the tall one with the red hair. You are Lorthrendel Jorona, yes?"

The fae couldn't help but grin and cast an amused glance at Varenyl. "It's just Lorthrendel, my dear. I have never knew my surname. My name was given to me by the Khaishriks who raised me, who thought that it would be good to give me a name suitable to my Eastern Fae heritage."

"Ah, the feline people of Yoshinda?" Rilvuldra cocked her head at Lorthrendel. "Wow. I've always wanted to meet one." She turned to Isendir. "You are Isendir Shatterstorm, that I know for sure. You seem like a very kind and smart man. I am very happy to meet you."

Isendir smiled warmly and bowed his head towards her. "Aye, thank you my lady. I am very happy to meet you as well."

"You are Ragnus Frostjaw, the dwarf," Rilvuldra said, turning to the angry dwarf. Her brown eyes glimmered with amusement. "I have never seen a dwarf before, but you look exactly how I imagined one. Is it true that there are no female dwarves, and that children just jump out of pods?"

Aerysdren snorted. "Yes!" he chuckled, smacking his hands together in glee. "That's exactly how they do it!" His shoulders heaved with his silent laughter. "Gods, that perfect!"

Rilvuldra grinned as Ragnus's face reddened. "I jest, Ragnus, I jest. And you. You must be Aerysdren Ravenshard. You seem like a very happy and funny child. It is great to meet you. And the last one is Varenyl Jorona." She nodded at the Sylvari, who begrudgingly returned the gesture.

"Now that we are all here, I would like to say a few things," Rilvuldra began, trying her best to speak louder than a whisper. "If what this hard headed bastard tells me is true-" she briefly glared at Leravacha- "then you five are here to defeat the evil at Tribesmen's Bay. She told me everything you told her. I'd ask how you planned on doing such a feat, but my time is nearly gone, and I have other things that I need to say." She fell silent, and her gaze fell to her fidgeting hands. She sighed. "I had a dream while I was sleeping. In this dream, an army of these dragon men marched out of the rift at Tribesmen's Bay, in no less than five days. I feel that this was a portent of what is to come, and that this event will indeed happen in five days time."

"Are you sure?" Isendir's eyebrows knitted together. He glanced at the others, concerned. "If that is true, then-"

"-We need to be prepared," Rilvuldra interrupted the Highlander, looking back up. "Please, it may not seem like much, but listen to me. Wait for five days before making your way to the Bay. Leravacha has sent word to the Vondas Tribe, to see if we can make a temporary truce to help hold the Bay when this march of hell occurs. We must be prepared for it. My people- Syrania's people- must survive this. If you truly are the heroes the absent gods have chosen, then I feel happy to know that you five are the ones that we rely on." She started coughing again and shivered with the cold of the room. When she stopped, Leravacha gently pushed her back down into the bed with a soft breath.

Lorthrendel, without a word, took his coat-like robes off and gently laid them on top of the fur blankets that covered Rilvuldra's thin form. He glanced at Leravacha. "They're made of soft velvet, Chieftain. They will keep her warm and help ease her pain."

"Uh, thank you," Leravacha awkwardly returned. She ran her hand through Rilvuldra's thin hair, only to have large clumps of it come out in her fingers.

Rilvuldra's eyes briefly opened to make eye contact with each of the companions one more time before shutting. "May the Hunting God guide you, companions," she whispered. "And thank you, Lorthrendel. You are very kind."

"Do not mention it, lady Rilvuldra." Lorthrendel dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Thank you for informing us of your dream."

"Yes." Isendir nodded and smiled warmly at Rilvuldra. "Thank you. I just hope that your trust is not misplaced in us."

Leravacha suddenly stood up and turned to them. "Thank you for your time, outlanders. Rilvuldra will now rest. Hakrynsif will guide you to your quarters. And...I apologize for my earlier behavior." She stiffly bowed her head. 

"It is fine, Chieftain." Isendir shook his head and dismissed her apology. "We understand how you feel. Do not worry about it."

"Don't you dare lock them back up in that house, Lera...." Rilvuldra opened an eye to glare at the Chieftain. "They will not leave."

She was right. The companions went back to their temporary home and stayed there. Leravacha gave them their belongings back, and some food to make up for what they lost when the horse had bolted.

The sweet, blessed and cold desert night soon arrived, but Rilvuldra would not see the sun rise again the next morning, or any morning after that. 

***🐉***

hi yall♡

sorry for not updating in a while. ive been really sick recently with a sinus infection that may or may not have developed into phenomena. to top it off ive been feeling a bit sad too, but i dont know why.

im feeling a lil bit better now though :')

this chapter is dedicated to HellaCrazyAuthors. she's a really dope person, and is also reviewing my book for me. id really appreciate it if you go and check her account out and give her a follow ♡

anyway, i know this chapter is long, and im sorry for that. please point out any mistakes you see and tell me any criticism or suggestions you have♡ it helps me out a lot :')

thank you so much again, and until next time~♡