"My seers speak of an ancient ritual. A Marshal of the North, Eira, suffers from a curse that even my best mages cannot break. It is not a wound but dark magic. Her soul seems to drift between this world and another."
Maelor was sitting alone with Thornak and Marcellus in the council chamber.
"The ritual to cleanse her needs moonfire. Only the Moonguard can call it forth. Without it, Eira will surely die."
"And what if the heir does not yet command the moonfire?" Thornak asked.
"Then we help her awaken it," Maelor said simply. "For her sake. For Eira. And for the war we are all about to face."
"You speak of her with more than duty," Thornak said. "This girl... your marshall. Why does she matter so much to you? I ask only out of curiosity."
For a long moment, he stayed silent. Then, without looking at Thornak, he reached for his goblet but didn't drink.
