It was late in the Hall of the Raven, and though her eyes were tired, Mel had much to do.

           The fitting took entirely too long for her liking, not being released until well after sundown, with Messer Ierfain’s  assurances that her uniform would be ready for pickup midmorning tomorrow. But she still needed to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

And so, she packed her meagre belongings, in order to leave as soon as the other Dove Emissaries got the order.

Pulling out her nightstand drawer, she cringed at how many things she'd stuffed within over the last three years. Retrieving crumpled notices and letters from her mothers, something jangled to the old, wooden floor. Glancing down, she saw the amber pendant with the carved, closed eye. Her mother cleaved it in twain when she realized Mel still possessed it, despite her begging to keep it. The biggest chunk remained, the leather cord still looped through.

Stooping down, she picked it back up and sighed. It was the High Moonmistress Amanda that explained what it was - an amulet to protect against scrying and other divination spells. It was how Grissana kept her hidden from her mothers for most of her childhood. The enchantment was long destroyed now, but despite Grissana’s treachery, she still hoped the best for the tribe. With a final glance, she tossed the broken pendant into her rucksack.

Shuffling through the rest of the drawer, her hands brushed against smooth metal. Buried in the mess, was the dagger her mothers sent after the Sharrans attacked. A moonstone cabochon was enshrined in the pommel, an inner light playing at the various colors within.

The stone, she learned one evening when half-asleep, was a sending stone.

She and her other mother used it after the attack somewhat frequently. It was the first time it felt like she truly listened to Mel, her goals in life, her passions…until she tried to convince Mel not to leave the Moonflame for the Knights of the Dove. And on her first day as a squire, into the drawer it went.

Glaring at the stone, she wanted to remove it and take the blade - she'd need all the help she could get. Instead, she sent a quick message spell to Wymon, the blacksmith.

“Are you up? I have a dagger I need balanced. Breakfast on me tomorrow if you want.”

A heavy sigh traveled to her ears through the Weave. “Very well.”

Tucking the dagger into her belt, she left her packing for the moment, and slipped out into the hall.

The hall was the first place she felt comfortable enough in her life to call home. Especially when she wandered the Dove Wing at night. Moonlight filtered through the columns of the wing, guiding her path. Turning a corner, she nodded in greeting as the moon came into view, though doubted Selûne cared for a novice who quit.

She left the moonlight behind as she entered the armory wing. Instead, magic fire lit the way in lanterns, hanging from the beaks of raven heads. The heat from the forge at the end of the wing pressed in on her, and she was surprised to hear the clang of metal already.

Mel quickly saw why – Perdi, a fellow Dove knight, hammered away at a blade, overseen by Wymon.

The blacksmith nodded to her in greeting as she entered and stood off to the side to watch Perdi work. Mel didn’t mark him for an apprentice blacksmith, but he hammered the heated metal with a practised ease.

Wiping his brow, Perdi dipped the blade with a loud hiss into the trough of water.

“Where’s the dagger?” Wymon asked her.

Perdi finally took notice of her, running his hand through his sweat-slick hair.

The sound of metal still rang in her ears, even after shaking her head to clear it. The ringing expanded into a solid note. With a jolt, she realized a vision was coming to her.

“Melrose?” Wymon prompted.

“Huh?”

Both Wymon and Perdi shared a look between them. The blacksmith’s brow lowered.

“Er…right. Sorry.” Mel pulled the dagger from her belt and presented it to him. “I’d like the moonstone out of the pommel. Whole, if possible.”

“Whole, eh?” Wymon rubbed his beard, examining the pommel. “S’alright if it gets scratched a little?”

Mel nodded quickly, the bodement throbbed with the movement. The light of the fire sharpened as it bloomed against her head, vying for attention.

“Give me til morning,” Wymon said. “You come back with some of Umbrel's cherry tarts and you have yourself a deal.”

“Deal. Thanks, Wymon,” she said, hurrying to go as the pressure increased in her head.

“Well done on the promotion, by the way,” Perdi said, pausing her. “Wish my squire was as half as brave as you.”

“Y-Yeah,” she said, her hand on the threshold, pressing into the heated stone. “Thanks.”

“Aye, well deserved it is.” Wymon chuckled, clapping his hand on Perdi’s shoulder. “But Mel is a busy woman. D’you know anything about balancing, lad?”

Thankful for Wymon’s segue, Mel darted out of the forge, hurrying to hide behind a pillar in the armory. She stumbled into it as she finally gave herself over to the vision.

She was watching the small sliver of beach, secluded from the Harbor District. Between the trees, a glimmer of golden light gathered and then shot over the water. The vision followed the light, the shape of an arrow. It rocketed over the Sea of Fallen Stars, picking up momentum. The speed made her queasy, hurtling over the Dragonmere, following the Chionthar west to the Sword Coast, until the river spilled into the Trackless Sea. And still, the arrow flew, over the Moonshae Isles, over Evermeet, before the arrow split into two, falling into Katashaka separately.

Her vision doubled over itself, following both trails of golden light. One, into the jungle, one into a river valley.

In the jungle, a shaggy-haired man wielded a sword against a training dummy. In the valley, a heavily-armored man knelt on one knee, his head bowed.

The sky darkened in both scenes. The vision wheeled around to the armored man’s face, the jungle falling out of focus. Above him, the moon eclipsed the sun, and darkness swallowed the land. He opened his glowing eyes – he was staring at her.

Mel fell back against the stone pillar as her mind wrenched free of the vision. Her heart pounded painfully fast, reeling from the chill of the man's gaze.

“Mel?” asked a voice.

Whirling around, she saw Ardin, Perdi’s longtime squire. The movement made her wince from the headache burrowing in, a side effect of the vision.

Clearing her throat, she pushed off the pillar. “Ardin.”

His brow was high with surprise, searching her face. “Are you alright?” he asked, crossing his arms. “You didn't seem to be hearing me for a moment.”

“I'm good,” she answered curtly.

“Why are you hiding behind the pillar?”

“Adjusting my bandages.” She moved to exit the armory and his presence.

“Oh, uh, congrats on the promotion, by the way,” he said, falling into step with her.

“Thanks. Did you need something?”

“Well, not exactly...” And yet he still walked alongside her, an air of hesitation about him.

She sighed, her headache digging deeper and thinning her patience. “Out with Ardin, I don't have the time.”

“I was just wondering…now that you're an emissary like Perdi, if you could maybe…put in a good word for me?”

Mel scoffed. “After the absolute fit you threw when I was knighted before you?”

“Listen, I am sorry about that, it wasn't fair to you, and–”

“You’re only sorry because you want to get in my good graces,” she snapped, stopping and rounding on him. “I won't denounce you, but I certainly won't be praising you.”

“Please, Mel,” Ardin begged, stepping closer to her. “If I don't get knighted soon, my father will pull my squireship.”

She wasn't surprised – his father, Auberon Paerindon, was the Commander of the Knights of the Griffon. He led with a strict hand and the highest respect.

“No,” she said with finality. Turning on her heel, she continued down the hall. “Good night.”

“You better watch your back, Mel!” he seethed behind her.

“And you better choose a new profession,” she tossed back to him.