It was a time of serenity in Landora when the Rowe were last seen. They were a people of peace; enthralled in art, science, magic and psychokinetic studies. Many people of different species would journey to the Rowe city seeking advice and wisdom. More often than not tyrants and overlords would send ambassadors requesting the Rowians assistance in wars, the Rowians refused to assist in warfare all they would do is act as a neutral third party in negations between feuding parties. Occasionally a king would declare war on the Rowe for not helping, but always the Rowe would defeat the invading armies.

The Rowe technology could not be defeated by ordinary swords, spears, and arrows, their weaponry was far beyond that. Some say they captured pure light in the form of sticks called lasers, and some of these lasers could be launched long distances like an arrow. Others believed that these weapons were just normal weapons which the Rowian used magic to create illusions over them to appear advanced, than there’s always the belief that the Rowe used mental powers to fend off the attackers.

After decades of onslaughts from power hungry kings and queens the City of Wisdom became suddenly empty. Over night the Rowe disappeared into the shadows of the past, their city turned to ruin by ransacking armies, mercenaries and petty thieves searching for treasure, weapons, and any type of record that would allow someone to learn the secret of the Rowe technology and duplicate it. Nothing was ever found save for the hieroglyphics on a wall thought to be The Hall of Wisdom at one point. The pictures indicate two men and two women empowering a talisman than the talisman breaking in half and being thrown into the world. Over the centuries this scene has been deemed as the creation of the Talisman of Rowe.

“Many archeologists have searched for clues to the whereabouts of the Talisman of Rowe, however no one has yet been able to figure out where the two pieces rest let alone what they do. Who knows where the pieces are? Who knows what they do? Who knows what happened to the Rowe that mysterious night? Who knows, this may remain a mystery for all time…”

“Master Kyle,” Zared popped his head up from the history book, “Are the Ruins of Wisdom the only evidence of the existence of the Rowe? And what type of people were they; elves, humans, tiggessian, troll…”

“Zared shut that little elf mouth of ya’s! Yar asking too much and ya gonna get a us a pop quiz!” Seri bopped Zared on the head.

“Hey!” he rubbed his head.

Master Kyle smirked at the two kids; “There’s nothing wrong with asking questions Seri. It’s good to be curious, sometimes.” Zared stuck his tongue out at Seri. “Any records that could have contained anything on the Rowe have been too greatly damaged to be of any good, the Ruins of Wisdom are the only solid evidence there is to this day. As to the creature type of a Rowian, the Rowe were just Rowe as the elves are just elves.”

“I’m gonna explore the Ruins of Wisdom when I’m older,” Zared announced.

“Not like ya’ll find anything new,” Seri said blatantly, “Those ruins have been explored fully for nearly three hundred years. Nothin’ new left to turn up if ya ask me.”

“Well I wasn’t,” Zared snapped at her.

“Now, now. Let us all calm down,” Master Kyle stepped in between the two.

“Hey, it says here that there are other hie-ro-gly-phics,” one of the other students said having some trouble.

“That’s right. There are other hieroglyphics and some writings on the ruins of the Hall of Wisdom,” Master Kyle said to the class.

The student continued, “It continues saying that these hie-ro-gly-phics and writings have not been deciphered yet. Many believe that somewhere in the writings is the key to find the halves of the Talisman of Rowe.”

“Now I’m definantly going to go there!” Zared exclaimed.

“What makes ya think ya can decipher them hieroglyphics?” Seri asked.

“Nothin’, but no one said I can’t try Sourpuss,” he stuck his tongue out at her again. She stuck hers out at him.

“Let’s move on,” Master Kyle stopped the fight. “Who can tell me the difference between magic and science?” He looked around the room waiting a couple of minutes. The students looked at each other shaking their heads slightly. “Well to put it plain and simple science is the study of how things work and live. Learning natural cause and effect. Magic is the study of manipulation of force. People us magic to tap into the force or power of an element to make it do what they want.

Science is technology, it allows us to live more comfortably and let’s us learn about the world around us…”

“But magic let’s people live comfortably too,” Seri said.

“Aye that it does, but not everyone can manipulate the forces of nature. That is why we rely on science,” Master Kyle explained. Dong, dong, dong, a bell donged throughout the city. Master Kyle closed his history book and looked at the class and waved is hand, “Have a good day kids.”

***

Zared climbed over the fallen columns and large chunks of various debris as he worked his way up the collapsed stairs. His sharp brown eyes focused only on the collapsed doorway at the top. The wind and heat of the day seemed not to bother him. All he cared about was getting to that doorway.

“ZARED!”

Some loose rocks fell down off the few columns that were holding up what was left of the sun walk above him. He turned around brushing his long raven bangs out of his face and glared at Seri. “Shush. Ye want to make the whole sun walk come down on top of us?”

“Sorry, but ya need ta slow down. It ain’t like the ‘glyphics are going anywhere.”

“I’ve been waiting eight years to see these ruins,” he said as he continued to clamber over the debris.

“Ugh,” Seri wiped the sweat from her brow and shaded her eyes from the noonday sun. “Why did we have to accept this job?” she grumbled, “It’s not like we’re going to find anything new.”

“Than why did ya come Sweetie?” the captain of the soldiers with them asked.

“Because I’m an archeologist Captain Hildebrand, and ya dear Lord Dylan Jran is payin mae a nice little amount to at least come and look.” She continued after Zared who was already at the door.

He was preparing a torch as Seri approached with the flint already in her hand. He held the torch out so Seri could light it. Holding the torch in front of them he stepped inside the dark hallway looking down both ways, he started down the right side of the corridor. Seri put her hand on his shoulder and spoke softly, “The Creation of the Talisman of Rowe is to the left.”

“I know that, what I don’t know is what is to the right. Practically every archeologist, and mercenary has explored the left side of the Hall of Wisdom. If there’s any chance of finding anything new it’s to the right.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Captain Hildebrand followed by three of his footmen walked a few feet behind Zared and Seri as they made their way down the right corridor. After walking for about ten minutes Zared and Seri stopped.

“What’s the hold up?” Hildebrand demanded stepping in between them.

“The same thing that kept everyone else from exploring this side of the Hall,” Seri said with a hint of annoyance and waved at the boulders blocking the corridor. Zared walked up to the rocks studying them in the torchlight.

Hildebrand turned on his heels, “Alright we shall go to the Creation Hall than.” The three footmen and Hildebrand started back down the hall.

“No,” Zared said setting his torch in one of the brackets along the wall. Hildebrand stopped and glared at him in the torchlight. “We’re going to continue this way. Come on Seri let’s start digging.”

“You move those rocks this whole corridor will collapse,” one of guards argued.

Zared looked at him, “No it won’t, these rocks aren’t supporting anything. They were placed here.”

Captain Hildebrand approached him, “Are you sure elf?” Zared ignored him and started to move some of the rocks. Seri assisted him also ignoring Hildebrand and the guards as they backed up expecting the ceiling to collapse at any moment.

After about a half hour of digging Seri moved a rock revealing a flat stone face. “Hey, Zared. I think I might have somethin’,” she beckoned him over. He came over to examine the smooth stone with her. “A door perhaps?”

“Only find that out if we continue moving these rocks.” Zared moved a large rock causing several rocks to fall away. Zared grabbed Seri jumping back falling on his back with Seri next to him. The guards ran several feet down the hall as the rocks fell. After the dust settled a smooth marble wall stood before them. Zared helped Seri up and they walked up to the wall running their hands over it.

“We wasted half an hour just to discover A BLOODY WALL!” Captain Hildebrand marched over to them furious.

“Look Captain Hildebrand,” Zared turned to him, “Seri and I are archeologists, and as archeologists it is our job to uncover anything of the past that we can. Including what appears to be a marble wall.”

“A wall will not tell us anything about the Talisman.”

“One wall already did, Captain.” Zared turned back to examining the marble.

Captain Hildebrand growled, “There are no hieroglyphics on this wall. You are wasting our time Zared.”

“If ye were listening Captain ye would have realized I said ‘what appears to be a marble wall’.” Zared and Seri both pushed on one end of the marble. More dust fell about them causing them to cough as the wall slowly turned inward. Zared grabbed his torch as Seri brushed some of the dust from her russet colored tunic; they entered the room on the other side of the door.

Zared looked around the small torch lit area. There was a glint at the edge of the light. Slowly he moved toward the glint the light revealed a wall with a silver trough lining the wall from right to left in and out of the torch light. Cautiously he reached his slender fingers into the trough. A few inches from the top of the trough he felt some kind of liquid. Bring his fingertips back into the torch light residue of the liquid remained on his fingers. The liquid was a dark black. He rubbed the black liquid for a moment than sniffed it. Oil. He rubbed his fingers on his black tunic and raised his torch to the oil filled trough and lit it. The crimson orange flame raced in both directions around the room spiraling along the walls. They stood in a large, circular room watching the fire zoom along the spiral trail of the silver trough. Both sides of the flame collided at the top of a staircase in a large silver bowl.

“Tre-cool,” Seri awed, “Shame the only thing in here is that fiery silver bowl.”

Zared shrugged and walked over to the stairs. “Maybe the only thing, but there’s got to be reason this room was sealed. Let’s take a look. Becarefull the steps have decayed and there appears to be several weak areas. Don’t need anyone falling through the floor now.” Carefully he picked his way up the stairs followed closely by Seri.

“Probably some type of ceremonial room, that could be why these decaying steps and fiery bowl are the only thing in here,” Seri suggested.

“Highly possible,” Zared said as they reached the top.

Seri looked back down the stairs Hildebrand and the three soldiers were talking amongst themselves. She shuddered a little and put her left hand on Zared’s shoulder. He placed his hand gently on hers feeling the small diamond ring on her finger. “I don’t trust ‘em,” she told him. He nodded slowly and gave her and encouraging smile.

They moved to stand in front of the fire. Seri reached her hand out slowly to touch the bowl. As her fingertips touched it she allowed her whole hand to rest against the bowl too. It was not hot. The flames began to die down in the center of the bowl. As the flames in the center shrank the flames on the side rose forming an oval. Bits of flame flew into the center of the oval condensing into a crimson orange sphere. The sphere quickly became bright white and than cleared to reveal an image of the room they were in. Zared and Seri watched intensely as the sphere showed four hooded figures enter the room. The first figure was holding what looked to be a disc of some sort. The four proceeded up the stairs to the silver bowl of flames. They turned away from the flaming bowl toward a large audience. The figure holding the disc held it up by a gold colored cord for all to see.

“The full creation of the Talisman of Rowe!” Zared exclaimed.

“Describe what you see elf,” Captain Hildebrand demanded with great interest.

Zared began describing what he and Seri were seeing in the sphere ignoring Hildebrand’s demanding tone. “The hooded figures are removing their hoods, two men and two women. A woman is holding the talisman. The fire recedes to the sides of the bowl and she places the talisman in the middle. The talisman is levitating in the center as the other three join her around the bowl.”

A female voice came from the sphere, “We empower this simple talisman with the powers of fire, water, wind, earth, and creature. By this we leave the greatest of our magic in this mundane land in hopes that one day the people of Landora will understand and live in harmony with the forces of nature. Until that time the talisman will be hidden in the realm of Landora as two pieces. One piece shall be guarded by the powers of Fire and Earth, the other by the powers of Wind and Water.” As the woman spoke four images appeared on the talisman; a bird, a fish, a snake, and a deer. The woman turned to the talisman, as did the other three with her. They raised their hands toward the talisman, in a quick movement they spread their arms wide and the talisman broke in half and soared out of the room. Zared took quiet note of a glint falling into the bowl as the talisman broke. The sphere faded back to crimson orange falling into the oil. Before it touched the oil Zared saw a glint in the oil. He snatched it before the fire sphere relit the oil. Turning he saw Captain Hildebrand and the soldiers talking again, none of them noticed him snatch the glint out of the oil.

“Job well done Zared and Seri. Lord Dylan Jran will be pleased that there was a clue to finding the talisman halves,” Captain Hildebrand said turning to them. An odd smile curled his lips as Zared and Seri made their way down the stairs. “You have served your purpose well and are no longer needed.” Captain Hildebrand waved his hand as he turned walking away. One of the soldiers threw a pouch with a lit wick up the stairs. The pouch landed just a couple of feet away from Zared and Seri.

“Powder bomb!” Seri shouted as Zared pulled her back up the stairs. The powder bomb exploded collapsing the entire staircase. The two fell under the floor with the stair debris on top of them.

Captain Hildebrand stopped at the doorway to view the destroyed alter. With a shrug of his shoulders he walked out the door followed by the three soldiers.

Slowly the dust settled. Zared rubbed his head as he sat up slowly. Debris laid all about him, he could not see Seri through the dusty dim light peeking down between the caved in rocks up above. He felt around him until he found the torch he dropped in the fall. He felt a warm force coming from the torch, pulling on the force as he waved his hand over it twice he whispered softly, “Crimson flame, firefly lit.” Fire engulfed the torch. Standing Zared held the torch out in front of him, “Seri?”

“Ughhh.”

Zared turned looking behind him for Seri. He listened carefully to Seri’s moans. Just a few feet from where he landed the torchlight caught the movement of Seri’s hand under a large rock. Zared hurried over to the rock pile worry and fear on his face. “Seri hang on. I’m here.” He began moving rocks off of her as quickly as he could.

Gently Zared lifted her head onto his pack as he knelt down beside her. Her eyes were opened to slits as she tried to breath. “I’m sorry Seri, I should never have let you come,” tears trailed down his high cheekbones. He held her hand in his feeling her wedding ring between his fingers while his other hand caressed her soft rounded face.

Seri coughed and spoke quietly, “Nonsense. Ya know… I wouldn’t have let… ya come alone. I wanted… ta come as much as ya. But now that… bastard Dylan… will find the talisman.”

“Maybe, but he won’t be able to use it,” he held up the small piece of gold rock he grabbed out of the oil. The rock piece had the head of a red snake on it.

“It must’ve…” she went into a coughing fit. Zared could only hold her hand.

“It chipped off the talisman when the Rowe broke it in half,” he told her when she stopped coughing. “If the talisman works the same as most enchanted objects…”

“Dylan can’t… use its powers. Ya must keep that piece safe,” Seri started gasping for breath again. They both knew she only had a few more minutes at most. Zared sat with her in silence caressing her face. Seri looked up at him and very softly said, “I love ya… always with ya.” Her eyes closed and her breathing ceased.

After hours of walking through the underground caverns Zared came to a set of stairs that wound up into the darkness. He climbed the stairs wearily; it took another hour before he reached the top. He rested against the wooden door for a moment before pushing it open. Moonlight shown through the doorway. Zared stopped walking when he reached the edge of the ruins. Looking up at the moon above the Hall of Wisdom he held up of the talisman piece studying it briefly in the moonlight. Quietly Zared swore that Dylan Jran would never get his hands on it and that he and Captain Hildebrand would pay for killing his wife.

Knock, knock. “Come in Zared,” Master Kyle called.

Zared opened the door and entered the house. Crash. Glass shattered on the floor somewhere on the far side of the disordered and chaotic room. Scrolls and books were strewn across every flat surface from a small wooden end table to the wooden counter tops in the kitchen. There were also glass vials and jars; some empty and some containing animal parts, various liquids, and who knew what else. Master Kyle was a retired archeologist and spent most of his time teaching history to kids, as he did to Zared when he was a little elfling. Zared had been bringing all his archeological findings to him since he was fifteen and Master Kyle could not make most of the archeological trips himself. They would both toil over Zared’s new findings far into the early morning hours.

Three years ago Zared had brought him a small gold tone piece of rock that had the head of a red snake on it. Master Kyle’s eyes widened as large as a cat’s in a field of catnip when Zared told him it was a piece of the Talisman of Rowe. Zared gave the talisman piece to Master Kyle for safe keeping while he left to grieve.

One month ago Master Kyle sent a message to him requesting that he come back immediately to Chaseler. The message did not say why. Whatever the reason may be Master Kyle certainly did not want anyone to know it.

Zared carefully picked his way through the familiar mess to where the glass had shattered and Master Kyle was sifting through shelves and chests. Grabbing a piece of cloth Zared picked up the pieces of a glass vial laying on the floor. At least it was an empty vial, Zared thought.

“So, why did ye call mae back to Chaseler ‘old man’?” Zared asked setting the cloth and glass pieces on top of a book.

“Surprised you haven’t noticed yet m’boy,” Master Kyle did not stop searching through the chest he was bent over, “Look at the bookcase to my right.”

Zared looked at the bookcase; several old history texts, scrolls, candles, vials, jars, nothing really caught his attention. He scanned the shelves a couple of times than it caught his eye. Down on the bottom shelf in the left corner, a jar contained a small yellowish glow. Picking up the jar he realized it was the talisman piece. He stared at it wide-eyed. “When?” he asked astonished.

“Just a little more than a month ago,” Master Kyle said straightening up. He was holding a quiver of arrows and an exquisite silver elven battle bow. “You will need these,” he shoved the bow and quiver in Zared’s arms almost causing him to drop the jar.

“For what?” Zared set the jar next to the broken vial pieces and leaned the bow and quiver against the table leg.

“To find the Talisman of Rowe. What else? There’s got to be a reason for that little piece to start glowing out of nowhere and I’m in no condition to go find out. So that leaves you.”

“But I don’t even no where to start.”

“You start with Izala.”

“The witch of Lilac Swamp!”

**

Holding her sword tight Orenda cautiously peeked around the large oak tree she was hiding behind. Her jade colored eyes scanned the forest around her carefully; she knew he was here somewhere. Her slightly pointed ears twitched back listening for the slightest of sounds. Crunch, crunch, snap. He was coming from her left and behind her a bit. Quietly, she sheathed her sword and grabbed hold of a thick branch and pulled herself into the tree. Unsheathing her sword once again she moved slowly behind a large bunch of leaves and smaller branches near the trunk. Her breath slowed to a quiet pace matching the wind.

A tall brown haired man emerged slowly from the brush sword in hand. Orenda watched him as he surveyed the area. She moved to the other side of the tree as he walked around. As he started to walk off Orenda jumped silently down her sword placed gently against his neck. “You just been killed Toran.”

Toran smirked and turned around slowly to face her, “I always seem ta becomes so when we spar.” He sheathed his sword as Orenda brought hers down. “I say it’s those ears of yours. Hearin’ the softest of sounds.”

Orenda shrugged as she let her amethyst hair out of its ponytail. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes revealing the single, shallow, vertical ridge that ran softly down the middle of her forehead and stopped just above her eyebrows. The forest started to get dark, night was falling. They headed back to the village in silence.

“Are you really leaving this time?” Toran asked as they reached the edge of the village.

“Hm. As many times as I have tried I would place my bets on ‘no’. But this time is different, this time I have to.” They stopped at the gates. Orenda looked at him, “It’s getting stronger. I need to find out how to control it, before someone gets hurt.”

She sighed, “Plus I need to find out who I am. Everyone here knows I’m not like them, but no one knows who I am or my people. Maybe if I go to Chaseler I can find someone who has come across others like me.”

Toran nodded in agreement, “Than when you leave tomorrow morning if I see you come back in here I’ll kick you out myself.” Both of them giggled. Toran gave her a hug and than left her at the gates.

Orenda watched him leave. It had been twelve years since she first came to Pinelore. She had been found soaked to the bone and unconscious by the river. When she awoke she was in a bed in the elder’s house unable to remember what had happened to her. All she knew was that she was scared, alone and homeless. No one in the village had ever seen a person with her facial features. Elves and sprites had very pointed ears but not a vertical ridge upon their foreheads, and no race anyone could think of had that particular ridge. The elder, Joha, took Orenda in and raised her as his own daughter. She had a happy life in the village; no one gave her any problems about her unknown lineage.

She did not want to leave but as she told Toran, she needed to. It was time. She would miss everyone but when her quest was finished she would return.

She walked the length of the gate as she thought about things. At the left side of the gate she drew her sword and placed it on the ground and walked back to the other side of the gate about eight feet away. Her thoughts focused on the sword carefully as she pictured it hanging in the air. Slowly, quivering a bit, the sword rose into the air and stopped about two feet off the ground. Orenda extend her left hand to the sword beckoning it to come to her. The sword responded slowly, gliding through the air smoothly until it was right in front of her. She held her hand up and the sword halted right in front of her. She grabbed the hilt and sheathed the blade once more.

The first time her powers manifested it scared the Blazing Core out of her. She had been practicing by herself in the thicket about half a mile from the village. Out of breath she sat down on a fallen tree her sword propped up against it. She had started to stare intently at a stone about the size of her fist when it leaped up in the air at her. As she threw herself on the ground to avoid being hit the stone fell to the ground again. Halfway standing and sword at the ready she looked about the thicket for anyone. She saw nothing, heard nothing. Cautiously she placed her fingers on the stone. It did not move. She picked it up and looked over it, nothing unusual. She found her thoughts starting to concentrate on it again quickly she looked away from it changing her concentration to nothing. Then she decided to try something. She looked at the rock again this time purposely concentrating all her thoughts on it. The rock started to quiver in her hand as she pictured it in mid-air. It rose into the air and just hung there quivering a bit. Orenda glanced over to the fallen tree and the rock obediently moved over to it. Orenda let if fall on top of the tree where it bounced off hard on to the ground.

Orenda had trained herself to restrain and control her power but once in a while it would manifest out of the blue. Now she felt her psychokinetic powers growing stronger each day. Toran and Joha were the only ones in the village who knew of Orenda’s mental powers.

Orenda opened the door quietly to Joha’s house and closed it behind her. On the ground next to the door was backpack. Inside was some slightly stale bread, hard cheese and a couple of apples; as well as some rope, flint and steel, a compass, and other little odds and ends that could prove useful on her journey to Chaseler. Everything was ready for her to leave at first light. With a light sigh she went to bed.

Zared walked through the crowded streets of Chaseler his thoughts racing over the past three years. He had lost his wife, made one of the most important discoveries in archeological history and was unable to speak a word of it for it may mean his death if Captain Hildebrand and Lord Dylan Jran found out he was still alive. He traveled the lands of Landora under the cloak of night and hid from guards when he entered cities. Even in all his travel he had not done a thing since he lost Seri. Who cares about the Rowe and their hidden power? He had lost his love and with that his heart. Why should he go see Izala? Why should he go looking for the talisman? What does it matter if Lord Dylan Jran gets a hold of it? What would Seri have done in his place? What would she want him to do? She’d want him to stop moping around and go after the talisman. Dylan Jran was a tyrant and he already controlled Chaseler and most of the mainland of Landora.

After the last king died two hundred years ago Dylan’s ancestor Lord Micarn Jran seized the throne by killing the heir with a dagger through the back. Some even suspect he poisoned King Altair but none could ever prove it. He took the throne by force and it has been in his family ever since. Each ruler of the Jran family was a merciless tyrant but no one dared oppose them. Any who even attempted to was killed either in broad daylight or in their sleep with a dagger in their chest. The people lived in fear.

That talisman can either defeat Lord Dylan Jran or give absolute power to him and his family for many more centuries. That was it he’d promised Seri that Dylan would never get the talisman and the best way for that to happen now was for him to get to it first. Aye, that’s what Seri would do and what she’d want me to do…as well as to stop moping on about her and move on. He stopped and looked around, while he had been argue with himself his feet had already taken him three miles beyond the gates of Chaseler in the direction of Lilac Swamp. He hefted the quiver properly onto his back over his left shoulder and slung the silver elven battle bow over his right shoulder. The snake head talisman piece hung around his neck, he held the piece between his thumb and forefinger, “This had all better be worth it.”

Lilac Swamp was a day and a half’s walk from Chaseler toward the west. This swamp was no ordinary swamp, not one bit. It was enchanted so that none could enter no matter how they tried, not by simply walking in nor by force could one enter. It was a spell that Izala put on the swamp three hundred years ago so no one would bug her with trivial questions and problems. Only those worth her time got to her. If the entrance enchantment was not enough the lilac pixies played tricks on those in forest; tricks such as misdirection and illusions to curses. A swamp he can not enter, lilac pixies, trechourus plant traps, and only the Goddess knows what else, how was he suppose to get to Izala even if she was still alive. She had only been rumored to still be alive, but how can anyone even a witch live for three hundred years. He may find nothing if he managed to get past all of the obstacles of Lilac Swamp.

**

Orenda moved steadily through the forest. She had left well before sunrise and was now starting to see the soft golden rays of sunrise glint between the leaves above her. Rays of light danced upon the forest floor at her feet as she made her way through the trees. Her thoughts were unanswered questions. Could she find anyone who knew her people? Could she learn more about her powers and how to control and harness them? That was the purpose of her journey after all; she would travel until she found her answers. The problem was she already wanted to turn around and go back to Pinelore. She already missed Toran a great deal; she pushed herself to go on. She could not return until she had found her answers. She needed to know who she was and why she was alone.

Toran had just returned to Pinelore a week and a half ago for a little rest. He had been enlisted in the military for the past nine years. He was due to return to duty in a couple of days. He had offered to accompany Orenda to Chaseler but she declined. She wanted to do this on her own. Toran had taught her how to fight and sparred with her every time he came back to visit. She enjoyed sparring with him and just spending time with him.