War is the tragic outward expression of the flaws of humans. Because of prejudice, envy, and greed, we could not exist in peace together. Aeshivar had been torn apart by war time and time again, making it almost a second nature to everyone who lived here. But war never came without consequences. Death, famine, destruction - to name a few - had already spread wildly throughout the northeastern part of Etherea. They would remain even after the war ended, a semi-permanent wound to remind us of our faults. A reminder of what we had failed to prevent.
"My lady, it's almost dawn," Farren reported, lifting the flap of my tent enough to peer at the sky. "It isn't too late to return to Ether. You are the best rider here; with your skills you could be back in a week."
I waved my hand dismiss
