Vivid flashbacks entered her mind of the last time she had seen her fellow gods fall. The images had haunted her since the Godslayer War had happened. While she had not been a young goddess at the time she had minor spheres that weren’t as great as Time or Life. She had abandoned her slot as Death long before that time and took up the mantle of Fertility and Earth. They were the two powers that the Voice swore she was born to rule, except when push came to shove Fertility evolved and Earth left her completely. She still had strong earth magic but only thanks to the Red Court’s trials. If it wasn’t for being the Red Queen she wondered how her earth magic would fair.

Angela was in the middle of the fort that she temporarily was calling home. She knew that she was practically grounded to this one location until this was all over. They could not afford for her to become a causality but by the look on the elder goddess’s face, one could tell she wasn’t happy about it. Out of the four battlefields Endapano was safest with the number of troops that had rallied.

Lazily she was leaned against one of the several tables available in the fort. Underneath a large green and gold tent that resembled the colors, she chose to wear most. The goddess’s hair was braided and felt quite a bit down her back even with the braid. Her forearms were against the table and her green eyes were glued to the commotion that was far from where they were.

Angela knew she could only do so much. Before she was a god she was just a healer and an alchemy. She was no warrior. She was more likely to get along with a scholar before a hardened warrior. That did not mean she didn’t understand them but… when it came to her own natural strengths she had realized long ago where she stood in the totem pole of power when it came to Arri. At the very top was her hot-headed sister Toya. At the very bottom was herself.

Willow had always told Angela that healers were the most important part of any battle. They could turn the tide and strengthen morale. It didn’t matter if she had the physical strength or not. When it came to magical strength and her ability to heal, no one could beat her. That did little to soothe her. It had done little to soothe her when Cathrine went out into the red sands of Arri when Cathrine had first drafted into the army as an archer. It did little to soothe her when she watched her fellow gods being torn down by a mace from god knows where… Even now it did little to soothe her after watching Dalanesca’s dead body appear before them.

She brought Dalanesca back but… If she had only been stronger maybe she could have prevented it in the first place. Her knuckles clenched leading her dark skin to whiten at the knuckles. A deep inhale followed as she straightened herself back up and released the table followed by the expected exhale. “There’s no point crying over spilled milk…” There was nothing she could do. She wasn’t fit to be a warrior. Her body too weak compared to her fellow Rosenites and the only reason why she could even lift a finger to Toya? Divinity.

“It looks ugly on you when you start to pity yourself,” said Toya as she approached her sister with her arms crossed. “I’ve seen that look on your face before. You are doing what most people can’t or wouldn’t. Any dumb broad can pick up a sword and swing it around. Not just anyone can bring back a goddess and tell the tale.” There was a cheeky grin from Toya as Angela smirked and closed her eyes with a hmp. Maybe she was right. “I’m going back out. Someone needs to keep these dragon riders in check…”

“Oh, like you should be the one to teach them that lesson,” Angela retorted with deep sarcasm but she was already too late once she opened her eyes she noticed that Toya had probably teleported or gated away from her before she could say anything. “Mhmm…” it left her pursed lips as she moved towards the healers' tent.

“Anyone need more help?” This was all she could do for now.

Derek had served his city for ten years and been proud to do so. He had been happy with his life, with his job as a guardsman, with his small home and the friends he had made. Above all else he knew that he was doing good, protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. Ten years. Then the stories started flooding in. War on the West coast. Inhuman invaders. Demons. Giant insects. The stories varied, but that last one seemed to be the most common. Calls went out for heroes, for soldiers, for anyone, really, who was willing to do what it took to stop these invaders in their tracks and push them back to wherever it was that they had come from. Derek couldn't resist that call. He didn't see himself as a hero. He wasn't particularly strong, or skilled when it came to fighting. He did his best, and that was good enough to do his job. If he could do the same elsewhere, to stop anyone in his home city from suffering… Well, how could he say no. He had spoken with his commander, explained the situation and been given leave. He wasn't the only guardsman to do so, and a small part of him worried about the state of Adeluna if too many abandoned their posts. It was almost enough to make him turn back. Almost.

He had found a mercenary company readying to move out. The Crimson Kings, they called themselves. They set themselves apart with their bright red cloaks that all members wore. They were, luckily, still taking on new recruits. The recruiter, a tired looking elf who kept glancing around nervously at the progress of the packing and preparing as if he wasn't comfortable with leaving others to take care of these things without his supervision, explained that since they didn't have time to test and train all these new recruits then they would all be handed spears. They would be formed into rough companies, and Derek had to admire the honesty here, and used as distractions or thrown mercilessly at the enemy. They would not be relied upon. It was harsh, Derek had questioned why even recruit under those circumstances, then, and been told that desperate times often called for desperate measures. The pay for these new companies would be increased, and survivors would be promised permanent positions within the mercenary company once all was said and done. All they needed was his signature.

That was how Derek had found himself on Endapano, travelling in a line, spear in hand with strangers on either side of him. He had no more time for regrets, not now. Just ahead of them, arrayed in a swarming mass were the invaders. Derek swallowed hard. Since arriving, they had heard the stories. Seen the injured, and the dead. This was going to be his first time meeting the enemy head on, though. He gripped the spear tight, wishing the new leather chest piece he had bought wasn't a size too big. He hadn't had time to have it resized. The line halted, waiting for the next command. He looked left and right at the others in his small squad. There were eleven on them total, a strange number. The Kings weren't exactly traditional, it seemed. They had been briefed, quickly, on the plan. They would draw in the insects, hold the line, and the rest of the company would attack from the sides. The seething mass of insects lurched forwards, seeming to be taking the bait. Derek had enough time to pray, asking Angela to protect their lives before the first of the enemies was on his. He raised his shield, braced his spear, and the thing leaped. He was faintly aware of the impact, staggering back a step, when something connected with his head. There was a flash of pain then everything went dark.

He awoke to the sounds of pain. Derek opened his eyes, slowly. His whole body hurt. Where was he? His vision was blurry, but from the looks of things he was in a tent. Had they won? He was alive at least, wasn't he? He tried sitting up, failed, and fell back down.

The little girl was far from the cave she had been 'born'. After awakening in the darkness of the underground depths of Baltil, she had traveled quite a ways across Parvpora and even across the Luna Sea. Like a newborn she was experiencing and seeing everything for the first time. Unfortunately one of these things would be war. Too young to even think of the concept of death, she was in a bad place when a group of giant bugs rushed out from the trees and came after her. She ran and ran holding her precious orb to her chest, but she tripped and fell over nearly losing it in the process. The spherical jewel almost fell out of her grasp and she screamed–then something hit her in the back. The last thing she could remember was grabbing the orb and holding onto it for dear life…

While she was chased by a group of mantis-creatures, Mira had managed to run far enough past the central divide into Conclave-controlled territory. One of the insects swung a well-aimed stone from a sling and scored a direct hit, but luckily she wasn't human. Hurt but not bleeding, she lost her balance and tumbled. As she was protecting her orb with her body, they surrounded her and were ready to deal a killing blow when a bright flash of light blinded them and sent them reeling. Worn out and exhausted, the girl's physical form collapsed onto her treasure and she slept. A squad of cavalry soldiers came riding on the word from a Black Court scouting party having seen the insectoid raiders encroach upon the northwestern border of the secured portion of Endapano. The mantises were separated from the other invaders, and were swiftly put to the sword after a difficult struggle. Believing the child was a refugee fleeing south, they took her back to the fort and left her in the care of the Arriese healers.

Somewhere else within the tents a young girl's voice cried out in a foreign tongue. "¡NO!" There was a commotion and sounds of a struggle as things were being knocked over and the voices of adults were trying to calm her down. "¡Es mía!" A barefoot child with long dark curls, tanned skin, and bright purple-blue eyes was clutching a purplish-blue orb defensively and backing away from the nurses who were trying to check on her physical condition. The girl seemed to believe that they were trying to take her precious orb, and any explanations from the clerics weren't getting through. To make matters worse, nobody knew what sort of language she was speaking to translate. Her white dress and knees were covered in dirt, and it was clear she could use a bath. The clerics weren't sure what to do; if they tried to get closer she might run. 

Wiping soot and blood off his clean white robes, Serci stumbled into the healing camp east of the front lines.     His blonde hair was matted against his sweaty neck with hot, sticky blood. Stains were smeared all among his grey robes and tears dotted the trim of his tattered cape. Dry tear marks marred his face, his eyes red and puffy. Next to him, leaning his weight on Yakul, his deer familiar. Yakul's condition was the same as Serci's, blood matted fur, covered in filth and grime. Yakul was careful to not move to fast as Serci limped forward. As the pair made their way into camp, soliders and healers instantly clammored to Serci's side as he gently waved them aside for room to breathe. Taking his time, he stood on his own, running a soft hand down Yakul's back. Fitting a halter he was handed, he pulled it over Yakul's face and handed the lead line to a helper who headed off to the stables.

The front lines was a total massacre for both armies. Lines of explosion based mages dug into the beach, archers behind them. Cavilier units patrolled up down the beach, in case any insects broke ranks. Off the beach and its mobility striking sand sat the rest of the insect resistance, Serci among them. It started with explosions. A noise so deep it echoed in your chest. The deep sharp eruptions lit up the sky in crimson reds as arrows covered up all visibility. The surges of power continued for hours until the mages grew tired. Then screams pierced the air, agonizing shrieks followed by fearful whinnies from horses. Then the buzzing. Even now, the buzzing burrowed into Serci's ears, far away from the death soaked battle field. The rest was a blur. Swords clashed against maws and sycthed shaped appendages. Courageous shouts were met with short exhales of death. A retreat was ordered as a second battalion swapped for the first. Limping his way on his trusted companion, Serci cried for the lives that were lost. 

 There would be a time to properly mourn the deaths of the warriors, but now was not the right time. There were plenty of wounded soldiers that needed tending to. Serci was an able healer, being the champion of Angela. The sword of Eylisa only magnified his healing, espically with the connection that he shared with Angela. Between the two of them, the camp was the most viable place on Revaliir if you wanted healing. Moans of pain could be heard from every which direction as Serci made his way to rather large green and golden tent, slipping in as he made his to a barrel or water. With haste, Serci washed the blood off his hands, and cleaned his femeine face. Blood still matted his long golden hair, but to a lesser degree. Tucking his hair into his robe he parted the curtians which lead to the ward where countless people were wrapped up in bandages. Angela's clergy and court healers busily crossed the room going from patient to patient, handing out water and healing treatments. 

 Making his way to a young man with a bloody bandage wrapped around his head, Serci put on a warm smile, as he saw the man awake. However, he was weak, failing to push him self out of bed. Serci cleared his throat, taking a near by ladle of water and walking to the man. "Shhhhhh." He cooed as Serci reached over the man, gently lifting his neck up, placing a pillow under his head to support his weight so the man could drink. A warm smile was accompied by a sootheing voice as he slowly adressed the man. "You were injured,  from what I can tell you suffered some head trama. You will be okay, if you take it easy, so tell me or any of the healers if you need anything. My name is Serci, solider." He whispered in a calm manner as he leaned down to face the man's eyes. Serci held out the ladle of water to the man. "You need to stay hydrated. You can tell me what happened after you drink."

A young woman with short blonde hair sat at the camp fire looking at all the depressed faces surrounding her. It was obvious that after having the goddess of death being defeated, moral in the army was not high to say the least. Not to mention the survivors were currently stuck until they could find a safe way to get them away from the battle. For now they stayed here. Or at least that was what Kyra had been told. Kyra came here to see what was happening and to experience what it was like. Perhaps it seemed foolish but if Kyra wanted to write songs about this event in the future, she would need to be up and close to it. Of course they all might fail and die. But if the goddess of life was gone, well then they would be doomed either way.

It would feel better for Kyra to die quickly than to live in a dying world for longer than needed. There was not much that Kyra could really do to help. She'd sold her weapons to soldiers who actually needed it and would be able to fight better than her anyway. Except for her knife but that had other uses besides battle. However now she was left in a situation where she was not a healer, didn't have any weapons to fight with but a knife, and probably would not be able to kill one of those bug people. Even her tricks wouldn't be very useful in a war zone. Kyra took off her bag and looked in it to find her flute. She had some clothes, food, and some musical instruments. Kyra then closed up her bag. Then she remembered something. Her lute. And the fact that music sometimes brought up moral. Kyra picked up her heavy lute and began to pluck a few cords. After quickly tuning it, she began to play a little song. Kyra wasn't concerned about the noise since they had dragons on their side who were much louder than her lute could ever be sometimes. The sound shouldn't become any sort of a problem. Her sweet lute filled the air and eyes suddenly were caste upon her as she played. Those sorrowful faces turned to expressions of curiosity and surprise. Kyra had begun with a sweet simple sound then it turned to a lively tempo to lift the spirits around her. Kyra opened her mouth to sing out for everyone around the campfire to hear. It was a very simple song that anybody, even if they hadn't heard it, could follow along. 

"Who will you send with you to herd the cows?
To herd the cows?
To herd the cows?
Who will you send to herd the cows?
La doo la daa la dow," 

Kyra's song had gathered some interest to say the least. People lifted their heads up and some even gathered around to hear the song. It seemed to be a good enough distraction from the war at least. 

"What will you give me to know his name?
To know his name,
To know his name,
What will you give me to know his name?
La doo la daa la dam"

The important part of any song was to hold some sort of story. Otherwise it became really boring. However this song was fairly simple and sweet. It didn't have giant heroes or grand adventures. Instead it just had normal people like many of the soldiers and survivors here. Although there were probably few of them who have actually touched a cow before. After all they were in an elven kingdom. But even the elves could appreciate the simplicity of the song. 

"I will get you a yellow flower to know his name,
To know his name,
To know his name,
I will get you a yellow flower to know his name,
La doo la daa la dam"

"That is not enough to make me say his name,
To say his name,
To say his name,
That is not enough to make me say his name,
La doo la daa la dam"

A few people started to sing along due to the simplicity of the lyrics. Some cheerfulness had sneaked into their eyes where it had been previously forgotten. And with the song being about love, well few could be against love in general. 

"I will get you a good horse to know his name,
To know his name,
To know his name,
I will get you a good horse to know his name,
La doo la daa la dam"

"That is not enough to make me say his name,
To say his name,
To say his name,
That is not enough to make me say his name,
La doo la daa la dam"

"I will get you the finest feast, with roasted meat.
With roasted meat,
With roasted meat,
I will get you the finest feast, with roasted meat,
La doo la daa la deem"

"The person who will come is you my love,
My love it’s you,
My love it’s you,
The person who will come is you my love,
La doo la daa la doh"

Towards the end of the song, most everybody around the campfire had begun to sing with her. Some soldiers were looking at their comrades and other people were just enjoying the song. Their mood had improved drastically. Kyra had to wonder how long it had been since any of them had heard uplifting music like that. Probably not in a while. Kyra got some applause then she offered some people bits of her food. She wanted to share since there wasn't much for rations going around. Kyra then sat back down on her log as people were talking to each other in a better mood. 

When the first mercenary came through the tent doors it was Angela who rose up to help the man. However, when she saw Serci she merely smiled and nodded her head. She would check up on the duo later as once the mercenary was taken care of there was quite the bit of commotion on the inside of the tent now. A strange language called out and Angela took a deep little breath.

Her fellow healers couldn’t get a word in between of the little girl’s. Finally coming their way the goddess knelt before the child and reached in. There was a warm smile as she put her hand on top of the girl’s head and gave it a gentle rub. “Nadie lo tomará.” With another rub of the child’s hair, Angela tilted her head and looked her over a bit once the child seemed more comfortable. “Estás a salvo aquí. Yo soy Ángela.”

Once she knew everything would be alright she scooped the child up in her arms and went over to where Serci was. Her mighty healing aura was enveloping the child with what must have felt like a very warm blanket. She adjusted the child in her arms to hide the orb so she was more comfortable. The goddess gave her a wink and looked towards Serci and the injured man.

“How are you doing?” Angela’s aura was clearly different from every other person in the room. With her came an air of power but not necessarily a bad one. Angela freed a hand and put it to the man’s forehead. “He is running a bit of a temper probably some venom from the bugs. He should be alright though as it doesn’t look too bad. Bed rest… and lots of healing.” Angela nodded to Serci and to the soldier. “And no being stubborn.” She took her finger and promptly pushed on the soldier’s nose. “The venom appears to be concentrated… here… here… and here…” Taking her finger she pointed to each spot where the man had been infected. “Not too bad though so we shouldn’t need to extract it… Might be more painful than letting it run its course.”

Looking down at the child now she readjusted Vadja. “Vamos a limpiarte. ¿Bueno?” Raising her eyes up to Serci she smiled once more. “I’m going to get her cleaned up and properly looked at… You focus on him and only use the Elysia Sword if you have to. Natural healing is the best healing. There are some herbal remedies already made at my desk you can use for pain and all that.” She waved her hand before taking off with Vadja.

Angela snapped her finger and in the corner of the large tent appeared many privacy screens. Each one made of beautiful mahogany and colorful silk images. Behind them was a large tub full of hot water and a pillow near the tub. New clothes were hanging over one of the panels to the screens. “Está bien bajar el orbe. Puedes confiar en mi. Ya lo sé el orbe.” Once more she winked and put the girl down waiting for her to cooperate. Once she did Angela knelt by her and spoke again, “Brazos arriba.” Once she had her clothes off and thrown over a different screen she put her in the tub and began to wash her up.

“Cuéntame cómo llegaste aquí,” Angela was gentle about her demand as she sudded up her dirty hair with a floral soap. In the distance, she could hear the song of someone near but her attention had to stay on the child for now. Every time Angela came across a cut or bruise she worked her healing magic into it. Obviously, she treated the child differently than a grown man. "¿Duele?"

Derek was only vaguely aware of everything that was going on around him as he lay there, eyes closed and head throbbing. Somewhere nearby, within what he assumed was a healer's tent if his current aching condition was anything to go by, there were the sounds of a scuffle and someone speaking in a foreign language. Having spent his share of time patrolling the docks of Adeluna city he was no stranger to hearing mixes of languages. This one, though, was unlike anything he had heard before, or at least he hadn't paid attention if he had heard it. Whatever was happening, the owner of that voice seemed upset by something. Derek cracked open his eyes, his vision blurred ever so slightly around the edges, to see a child in some kind of struggle with the adults who were… Helping her? Most likely. The guard inside him wanted him to get up and investigate, see what he could do to resolve the situation. He just didn't have the strength at that moment to do it. Maybe if he slept a little…

He didn't think he had fallen asleep. At least, it felt like he had just closed his eyes when there was the sound of someone clearing their throat. He opened his eyes again in time to see a woman leaning over him, getting a glimpse of blonde hair as whoever it was lifted his head for him and placed a pillow under his head. That was nice of them. Wasn't going to help him sleep but it would let him get a better view of where he was, at least. The woman gave him an explanation, and it turned out he had been right. This was a healer's tent and he had failed in his first ever battle, being injured immediately and sent back. He tried on a smile, though his heart wasn't in it, and took the water from the woman. He had let the other's down. This really wasn't what he had expected things would be like when he had signed up. He had, vainly he supposed, thought he would become a great hero. Slaying the evil insect invaders, fighting side by side with the gods themselves. Yet, here he was, a failure. As he sipped at the water his thoughts began spiraling, his heart dropping. From outside, though, came a sound… Singing. His attention drifted from his own melancholy, following along with the words. They were faint, nearby but muffled through the fabric of the tent. It lifted his heart, though. His thoughts, which had been turning dark, lightened.

He was even able to smile and pay attention as another woman walked over and spoke with the blonde woman, then surprisingly, poked his nose. He was too shocked to say anything, in fact he almost dropped the ladle of water so great was his shock that someone would just… Walk up and poke another person's nose. She mentioned venom… Maybe that was making him hallucinate. Bed rest sounded like a good idea, though. As the nose poker walked away, a child, the same child that spoke the strange language he thought, in her arms, he looked at the blonde again. His vision was already clearing, a good sign he hoped. "Thank you."

A warm voice speaking words in a familiar tongue caught the child's attention. Looking up with her purple-blue eyes, she saw a beautiful woman with long red curls. There was something about this person that calmed her down and made her less afraid. The lady picked her up and carried her through the people, holding her close. Even with so many people seeing her precious orb, Mira felt safe. The little girl leaned against the goddess as they came to a different part of the tent. The red-haired lady said that she would help her get cleaned up and asked if she was alright with that. The dark-haired girl nodded with a little smile. Suddenly, things appeared out of thin air! The child was amazed, mouth open and eyes wide. Everything was so colorful, and this was the first time she had seen a bathtub or pillow. The lady set her down on her feet, and told her she knew about Mira's treasure, but she didn't need to worry.

Sitting in the tub, suds flew as the goddess gently washed off the dust and mud off of the girl. This was her first time having a bath, and she was giggling as she played with the water. As fingers carefully worked their way into untangling the child's dark curls, Angela asked her how she had come here. Closing her eyes as she felt the water dribble down, Mira began to explain. "¡Estaba oscuro, una cueva muy grande!" She raised her arms and waved them to emphasize her point. "Conocí a un lagarto con seis patas, pero un lagarto más grande se enojó y de repente hubo fuego. También había un abuelo, y estábamos corriendo y corriendo." Pulling her knees to her chest, she swished the water around her with her little hands. "Caminé, caminé, caminé, caminé… Entonces los insectos gigantes comenzaron a perseguirme. Me tropecé y luego me desperté aquí."

Being so young, she watched in wonder as the scrapes on her knees disappeared and felt better. "¿Duele?" Angela asked. She shook her head. Looking over to where her dirty clothes and orb were, the orb began to float and flew over to the girl. She reached out her arms to take it, and let it bob in the bathwater. It was the same color as her eyes, and as she held it there was a faint glow coming from within. The water in the tub seemed to follow along with the orb as the girl raised and lowered it above the surface. A more careful observer would notice as she played. The girl's orb was certainly more than just a pretty trinket.

A thousand hammers smashed into bells, a thousand deafening alarms. The lights flickered on – scarlet. A horn section joined the alarm call as the lights fluttered out again. Something was tugging on her foot. Wasn’t she dying? Wasn’t there a hole in her chest? The pain wasn’t as bad as before - If the lights weren’t working why was there a golden glow behind her eyelids?

SMASH!
The ship was knocked harder than anything before. The enchanted gravity failed, and she became aware of her hands as they guarded her face from impacting the wall. The alarms had stopped, a small relief considering the pain in her foot was growing. Was it all a dream? Her dad had always claimed this ship was impenetrable, indestructible even. A piercing hot and wet sensation snapped her attention, something was biting her foot!
Wild eyes flew open for the first time – she kicked hard at the creature gnawing on her foot. With a yelp it rushed away into the darkness of the dying ship. Her new fingers confirmed what her eyes could see – there wasn’t a hole in her chest. She wasn’t dying, dreaming or having a nightmare. She was still being restored. The blood had already stopped flowing from her injured foot, a beautiful golden magic flowed over her skin.
Sundria didn’t have time to consider much of anything else. The alarms all burst into life as the ship burst through the void. The Hullaballoo’s central power core flickered a single last beat before the control console imploded around its dead soul. Any trace of magical gravity had gone, the whole ship spun wildly out of control. With no star controlling the magic the dimensions trapped inside the impossible ship started to fail. Sundria was simulations in the ships library, wardrobe and armoury. Sundria had time to notice the books seemed to be both in the pool and in the furnace.
BOOM!
The force of the impossible airship hitting the floor was incredible, Sundria only survived the impact because she was still healing. It still knocked her for six and left her crawling on new hands and knees towards all nine of the exists that currently both existed and could never exist. She climbed out along a forest vine, as her head cleared the enchanted ship she immediately realised she was in a forest. There was chaos around the wreckage; a battle worn city hung in the trees whilst a war ravaged the land. There was a tower close by – soldiers rushed towards her.
With all of her might she threw herself onto her feet. Sundria hobbled away from the wreckage of a legendary ship, in one hand she clutched a small locked box, the other a foreign silvery wand. “Get away! Run! It’s going to explode!” She shouted at the soldiers running towards her to investigate. She was getting weaker, she still wasn’t finished. Sundria stuffed the lockbox into her coat pocket followed by her wand despite the fact she shouldn’t have been able to fit either into a normal coat. The magic stitched into her coat pocket hid the shape and weight too. The ship exploded in blast of magic similar to that clinging to Sundria’s skin. She watched the last relic of Killian disappear in a cloud of golden Novella magic. Then she passed out.

Kyra had decided to not play anymore since the people surrounding the camp seemed to be chatting with each other more. Something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. A wrapped up whip laid next to a soldier woman who was discussing something with another soldier. The whip was clearly meant for battle. Kyra walked over to the soldier. She had no idea if the soldier needed that weapon but Kyra didn’t feel comfortable only having a knife. And she had also had previous experiences with whips.

“Do you need that?” Kyra asked the soldier.

The soldier seemed surprised by the sudden question and looked down to the weapon in question.

“No, it was given to me but I haven’t the slightest idea how it could be useful.” The soldier responded, “But what will you give in exchange for it?"

Kyra knew that money would not be able to buy the weapon. Besides she needed that money. However there was something that would be of more value to a soldier like her. Kyra brought out several of her own rations.

“How about this?” Kyra asked.

It seemed to satisfy the soldier.

“Deal.” Kyra picked up the whip.

At least she now had another weapon to help her in case things did end up going bad. Kyra did not even get the chance to sit down before there was a noise heard in the distance. It sounded like an explosion. Several of the soldiers around the campfire stood up, grabbing their weapons. But only a few of the soldiers left the camp. After all this was where all the injured and survivors were. If the camp was left undefended then the enemy would have a clear shot to attack the weakest of the army and even attack the goddess of life herself. However a few soldiers were allowed to go out of the fort to investigate what that might have been. Kyra decided that she wanted to join in and help out. She probably wouldn’t be able to help much however Kyra was determined to see some action. Especially since that action would result in an amazing song. Hopefully. Kyra picked up her whip and walked with the few soldiers that were leaving to investigate. They walked out of the camp site and into the forest where that noise had been heard. They encountered other soldiers who had been scouting the area. Kyra then saw what had made such a noise. It was the remains of an exploded ship. There were some soldiers and survivors scattered around the area.

The scout soldiers and the few soldiers that came to investigate began to help the survivors. Kyra herself found a girl, Sundria, passed out on the floor. Kyra began to drag the girl by the feet but then realized that this was probably not the most practical solution. Instead crawled underneath the girl so that the girl was on Kyra’s back. Then Kyra muttered a spell under her breath and transformed into a bear, dropping her whip. However Sundria was now safely on her back and Kyra had the strength to actually carry her. Kyra knew that she probably wouldn’t fit in since her fur was a light tan color that was uncommon for bears. But since she looked so strange she wouldn’t be confused for a wild bear. She picked up the whip in her mouth and began to walk back to the camp. The other soldiers didn’t seemed to be bothered by the fact that a strange bear was carrying a person on her back. They probably saw much stranger things in their lifetime.

This was probably nothing. Another soldier dragged a survivor over to Kyra and laid the survivor onto her back. Now Kyra was starting to feel as though she was a pack mule. But she kept moving forwards and was doing her best to make sure that the two people on her back would not fall off. Eventually they made it to the camp and Kyra headed straight to one of the tents. Her paws were slightly tired from walking all the way to the healer’s tent with two people on her back so Kyra laid down as soon as she got there. Of course she was careful to make sure the two people didn’t fall off. Kyra looked over to the tent and began using her paw to hit at the flaps that kept the healer tents closed. It was as if Kyra was trying to get their attention. She wanted these people off her back as soon as possible. The spell wouldn’t last forever and she didn’t want to be crushed underneath Sundria’s and the other survivor’s weight. That would be a hilarious but pathetic end to her life.