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[Jonathan Strathmore]

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A small phoenix soared high over the city of Umbra, circling, searching for the young demon.

When spotting it's mark it swooped down, woddling up to her a slightly singed parchment wrapped to it's leg.

Reine,

I hope the manner of messenger is some hint to the origin of the letter.

We have arrived, Reine, but in less number then we departed. However your mother is safe, her worry for you grows awkwardly.

This is not entirely why I contact you now. I have been charged with your tutelege and I have a special project with which I will need your aid. It will be the beginning of your training.

I expect either return word, my pet has been instructed to wait for your reply, or, if you wish to follow him, your command.

Either way, I will see you soon, Reine. Be careful, it is cold here. Very cold.

Sincerely,

Malikhia Wrenk

[Merci d'Rue]

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She had just settled into the black cave and wrapped her wings tightly about her, her head drooped with tiredness but a warmth tillted her face in that direction.

Reine had stayed in Umbra s her pull to this land was great, she recalled mostly in her childhood staring out of her glass shell and seeing Ceinwyn bent in task writing notes upon paper.

For many years of her young life she had thought, erroneously that Ceinwyn was her mother but dutifully obeyed the commands set on her by Merci. Yet she had not gone with Merci. Her predicament was dire. She had the candle still that Mal had filled with energy for her but it would not last to much longer and she must learn to combat the cold or die.

She pondered this as she feared death not but she preffered to remain living for now. Tearing a peice of her own wing, (as she had no paper) emblazoned upon it these words:

Aye Milord, I shall come, with your candle I shall fly, yet I must return to Umbra for my next weapons training..

Reine
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May destiny guide you...