(Urius)
"Mistress?" Sammhain interrupted my watch over my ailing sister. She did little. She bled on the blanket and dirtied the bandages around her wound. She slept, uneasily, I think, I don’t know what goes through her unconscious mind. She breathed, the hypnotic rise and fall of the blankets over her was what captured my mind, made me think about the morbid mortality of myself, my subjects. We were angels. We weren’t meant to die, not like this. Not in war. Not in bloodshed of any kind.If she died, my next sister would take the throne after me, after her, my brother.
"She has only a few hours left." I said, staring at my sister. "A day at most if she’s extremely lucky. You said the stars say she needs an elf’s requiem to be played at her side. I hope one of them is found soon, though this seems like and ironic time to request anything from an elf."
"Actually, Mistress, that is what I meant to tell you. There is… a mob, at the courthouse. They claim they have an elf that can play music
"I want you to determine if he will do. If so, then bring him here. The stars will not be denied."