Legend of Ransera

The Ecithian Border
1st of Glade, 124 Annus Ferro

If it was strange. The Eclipse had passed. Finn could only guess at the conversations happening back in the population centers of Solunarium, in the halls of power, on the streets, but none of this had postponed his mission. At dawn, he had saddled Kherdroth and flown west along the valley of the mighty Vasta. Beneath his hand and, at times, his Command, the wyvern had taken him to the border, which was visually muddled now, though he could feel the edge of Aværys' dominion on a soul-deep level.

Kherdroth landed for a time, resting while Finn surveyed the strange sight. He knew that some parts of the border had been penetrated by Ecithian flora and fauna, moving toward the light of Aværys' Sceptre. But here, the Ecithian river was a mere trickle of its former torrent, and the swamps were dry. Not Solunarian by birth, he bore no ill will toward the Orkhan, and felt a pang of compassion for their year of struggles. Perhaps their Holy Trinity had interceded on their behalf as the Divine Twins had for the Re'hæan elves and their Vastian subjects.

Perhaps it was his Kalzasern mother-culture that made him the appropriate Sentinel for this diplomatic mission.

Kherdroth arose once more into the air, beating sand into the air. They flew down into the valley and landed just short of the border. He removed saddlebags and saddle, sending the wyvern off to hunt. For himself, he set up a sun shade, drove a portable flagpole into the sand. It bore the standard of the Umbrian crown, as well as a flag requesting parley. Orkhan patrols along this section of the border were numerous in normal times; he hoped they would not have fallen into disuse during the Eclipse.

Beneath the shade, he pulled out a small zither, plucking out random melodies with the butterfly picks Hilana had gifted him, waiting. He had a week's worth of rations. If no one came to speak to him in that time, he could open a portal to the larders for more supplies, and then he would cross the border and fly to Drathera, hoping his flags would be respected.

A Sentinel faced danger undaunted.