Missionary Impossible

( A Darkniciad story. About 8 mos. after ‘Queen Alicia’ )

Arilee checked her blonde locks in the mirror, and then turned to the half-elven woman at her side. “Thank you for coming, Cris.”

“I have seen the change in Christi’s letters as well. I share your concern and love,” Crystania said, and gave a little bow of her head. “I pray you may aid her, as such emotional turmoil could prove troublesome for her pregnancy. If you are ready?”

Ari nodded and closed her eyes, having discovered that it did much to lessen the disconcerting effect of the spell that Crystania was weaving. The magic wrapped around her when Cris’ beautiful voice reached a crescendo, and she felt as light as a feather for a moment. When the sensation faded, she opened her eyes and smiled. She was back within Blackhawk Hall once more.

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