"Yet there is a thing here that troubles my mind: that everything about her is closed to me! Were she a force of nature, that would account for it." They both smiled at the apparent absurdity of such a notion. "But there! My mind is spoken at last, and all my foolish notions are made plain to you."
"Then we are on equal footing at last, and ready to begin!" Lily told him with a smile that barely concealed the firm seriousness that lay beneath. "Shall we?"
Hand in hand, the Wizard and the Sylph made their way back to their horses, and with their escort, soon rejoined Triel and his army of five-thousands. Then, after sending the others to safety, bearing their own provisions they set out on a journey to the very heart of the Marshes of Morag.
It was the fifth day of their journey towards the heart of the ruined Marshes of Morag. Anest had no choice but to allow Lily to guide him: she seemed to possess an instinct for finding her way, wending her way through a maze of what appeared to be grassy islands, but were instead intricately connected land surrounding a complex, slow-moving waterway.
Each morning of their journey dawned grey, deadly quiet, and expectant. Not a breath of air stirred; there was a feeling in the air like impending thunder.