[Zerlina]

((Had to cut this one in half))

Titania did not immediately follow the others into the rage of battle. Instead, she made her way to the infirmary to check on the injured that might have awaken. Though she hadn’t said anything, the few days of war had given her experience and she had begun to understand her art more.

”White magic is unlike any other kind of fascination” the high-priest used to say, though Titania had never understood him until now “Each time you cast a spell you have to be able to call upon all the compassion and comfort that lives within you.
When one heals, they are giving away piece of themselves- all their pleasantries, all their hopes and all their dreams, all that they live for, all that they remember and cherish…you cannot alleviate pain and injury with nothing. It all must come from within you, and it all must be given freely with compassion and sympathy.
For a brief moment, you will be giving your very life to someone else. Remember that, but never say it. As healers we know that few can understand us- though we give comfort, we must never expect others to appreciate how for one moment they lived and breathed through our own spirits.”

Titania let the ancient instruction repeat in her mind as she continued down the musty hallway.

“I finally understand you.” She said aloud, for a moment forgetting that the high-priest was only a memory, washed away in an ominous storm.

As she stood in the same hallway she had come through before, the echo of her voice slowly dissipated and fell to a dry silence; its solemnity only interrupted by a passing wind.

The breeze that blew outside the hallway windows was different than the one she’d heard before. This one was harsher, more unruly, and seemed altogether hollow. Repeating her previous actions, Titania rose onto the balls of her feet- this time to see the outside.

Malice…where are you? she thought, not understanding why the group hadn’t decided to rescue him.

She stared out the window, her eyes melancholy with confusion. Was he sick? Injured? Had they tortured him? Was he dead?
Wherever he was, she was certain he was not in good hands. The thought made her sick to her stomach, and she began to feel anger toward the others- why wouldn’t they try to save him? Could she go herself? No… that wasn’t too good an idea.
Her palms ached with the fear that comes from imagination, and in such a state, she shed a duet of tears, not understanding that the others had made their decision on the grounds of the greater victory and not on the benefit of their comrade. With little hope, the girl conjured up a healing spell and set it gently outside the window, praying to Phoenix that the wind would take it to its master.

After a time, she resumed her journey to the infirmary, this time minding the oil lamp. In the short time that it took her to travel down the hallway, her anger had taken dominance, and she began to consider her situation.

Was it such a callous group that they would leave their comrade to the death with the enemy? Why did they do nothing? Suddenly, she was overcome with a feeling of uselessness- she knew there was little she could do unless the others changed their minds.

Stopping at the end of the hall, the girl shook her head I’m tired of this. she thought I won’t let myself be helpless anymore. This isn’t Madain Sari and I’m not going home any time soon. I have to stop acting like I am and start growing up…

Titania reached into her pocket and found the spell book Nichi had given to her. Getting an idea, she changed directions. She arrived at her destination- a rarely visited room. Knowing what lay inside, she placed her delicate hands on a heavy, monstrous door and pushed to try and open it; she was met with no success. She tried once more, this time pressing her feet hard into the floor and forcing all her weight against the entryway. After some time, the object finally gave way, letting Titania fall painfully on the stone floor.

“Ow.” She said, out loud, rubbing her arms where her skin had smacked against the ground.

The shelf-lined room was dark, dusty, and full of cobwebs. It had no windows, and so Titania had to take a torch which hung outside the door.

She had found this room a few days before when she was wandering, and returned now to find what had so easily caught her attention the last time she had come.

Coughing a bit from the dust, she shone her torch on the supply-laden shelves until she found an old box with a broken hatch. The black, wooden case was etched with ancient designs: winding rivers and sturdy magnolias. Blowing dust off the lid, Titania opened it and retrieved from the inside two old fans, each framed with metal. The objects were much like those that she had used when she was younger for ceremonies at the eidolon wall.

An event that had started as a prayer for a mild winter, the people of her village used to light candles at midnight during the last days of autumn, and perform rituals for the eidolon Shiva. One of these was a dance performed by the young girls, who would each bring with them two fans for maneuvering.

Placing the torch in a wall-holder, Titania set the two objects down on the stone floor before she removed the ancient spell book from her pocket. With a practiced thumb, she flipped through the pages until she found an enchantment similar to the one that had been given to her flute by her mother. Uttering unintelligible phrases, the girl placed her hand over the two fans, for no longer than a ten seconds. It was not long before they shimmered in the darkness, suddenly infused with a holy magic so unlike the shadows they had been stored in. Timidly, Titania reached out and took the items, putting them in her apron-like pocket for later use. At the touch of her hand the objects ceased to glow.

As she returned the box to its proper place and prepared to return to the battle, she double-checked her reasoning to make sure it was sound.

When she’d first arrived in Palis, there had been a demon in the town, which was destroyed by only the touch of a holy flute. Therefore these creatures did not need to be slain with weapons- even the mere effect of enchantment could turn an ordinary object into a demon’s death-sentence. She had practiced dancing with these fans, so why shouldn’t she be able to wield them in battle? In all likelihood it was easier (more dangerous, but easier).

That seemed to make sense, and now all that remained was her ability to kill.These things lived and breathed, and, were she to be successful, she would be taking the gift that had been bestowed upon them. But then again, she had seen in the infirmary how these demons had caused so much merciless carnage- how they had killed over a hundred men. Did these things deserve to live? Well she reminded herself That’s not for me to decide.

Silently, she exited the room, pulling the door closed (with good effort), before placing the torch back in its proper place.

It’s never alright to kill. She thought, finally coming to a resolution But we are at war. And the enemy will show us no mercy- a demon that is left alive may be the cause of a Gracian's death.