Silas sits upon his favorite tree outside Esbec, viewing the pinkened sunset with a lax posture. He sets his lute aside; No song today, there are far more pressing issues upon his mind. He reaches in his robe and produces a slip of parchment; A poster featuring the visage of New Reza...wrought with flame and destruction. His gaze shifts from the parchment to the nearby city, in attempts to see for himself--Nothing but a sickeningly black plume of smoke...Silas looks below, upon Esbec. The people he loves so dearly...their homes...the town they created in unison. A culture threatened by extinction that only seems to creep closer by the day. Now, it was at their doorstep. He takes a deep breath, azure eyes narrowing upon the dying rays of sunlight. He stands, unshouldering his bow and taking aim with a barbed slayersteel arrow. He directs his last mark upon these lands to a barren tree, taking another deep breath in and out. Avalor. Absolon. Decay. Zirath. Eliza. Salacia....Mellen. A tear cascades down his cheek, glinting in the sun's last as he looses his arrow, finding it's mark with an echo. "Goodbye, Arcas..."