A child, known as Ciradyl Akaln'riv, lay ill within her bed. The little girl shivered as a hot towel rested upon her forehead, in a pose as if she were prepared to pass on. She was being overdramatic, of course. Her mother walked over to the child, holding a bowl of soup ready for her.
“Mother… I must leave my bed, the
construction of Paradine needs me!”
“You can play with your blocks later… Oh, which reminds me…”
The mother placed the soup on the ground next to the girl’s bed, only to take out the copy of the parchment.
Ciradyl stared in shock, a loud gasp escaping from her mouth. Quickly, despite her sickened state, the little girl leaped out of bed.
“My Divadri company! They need me! I must prepare to fight!”