Elsbeth sat in the meadow just outside the little village, her backpack in her lap, Laddie lying beside her. A thousand and one thoughts went through her head, making her frown. As she stood with a sigh, she looked back toward where the others were and wondered how to tell them.

It was time to go find herself.

For too long now, in the service of her great uncle and Rolf's superiors, she had felt as if she were losing herself. Was she representative of her people that Edwy and her Lords saw her? Was she the Squire within the Order of the Sword Reforged that Rolf's people saw? Was she a foolish girl in love with another that could not return that love? Was she the interpreter of the Law of the Gods that Ravn saw? Was she a confused child incapable of even interpreting the Sign of Magpies as send by those of the air and sky?

Only the Great Druid could answer. Perhaps only then could Elsbeth Marva discover why she was so adrift, so lost?

Gathering her things, she went into town to tell Rolf and the others that she was to away to find what part of Elsbeth was truly Elsbeth.

They say goodbyes are the hardest. And to one who has never had anyone or anything to farewell before, perhaps they are hardest of all. Or perhaps not ... not if one judges by the tears that lined Elsbeth's face when she came down from the hillside where she had sat, watching the preparations, as she hugged first Rolf, then Madelyn, holding them tight as she could while the "take cares" and the "hurry backs" were voiced by the rest.

Perhaps it is love, and not loss that makes goodbyes so hard. Something a raven wouldn't be expected to know anything about...

Perched, as usual, on Mandrake's shoulder, Edgar watched Elsbeth, her shoulder bowed beneath the pack that seemed too heavy a burden for such a slight woman, the sun catching and lighting the pendants that hung from her ears and the silver edging on her dress, as she strode down to where Edwy's ship was making ready to depart, her wolf padding softly along besides her, not looking back.

Something moved him then - a terrible sadness at seeing her go, a mantle of solitude wrapped as a cloak around her. Or perhaps it was the "will of the gods", after all...

Mandrake too was caught in the grip in similar emotions, for no sooner had Edgar voiced a querulous caaaark than the gnome was scurrying forward with a hasty and bluff "might as well go the long way!" to the rest of their fellows as he hurried to catch up with Elsbeth.

The face that she turned towards them as they approached was tear-grimed, (and all the more beautiful for it) but set, her features composed into the face she would present to her people.

Mandrake shrugged, the smile on his lips one almost of embarrassment. "We would be honoured if you would permit us to accompany you," he said, the words almost formal, yet unable to conceal the emotion that lurked behind them.

"You should not be alone," Edgar added softly, kindly, the words coming unbidden, as oft of late, though there was, as always, a certain rightness about them.

Elsbeth hesitated, regarding the pair. For a moment, a smile graced the woman's lips, the ice in her gray eyes thawing for a just a heartbeat as she nodded her acceptance (and perhaps gratitude) before the mask slipped firmly into place. Then, she frowned.

"I'd been planning to go to the Holy Isle of the Heralds, where the High Druid lives". She blushed slightly, her uncertainty coming back in a rush. "I fear I have so much to yet learn, both in things of the world and things of those I am with." She bit her lip. "I have to be stopping in to see my kin, then it's by boat. If you're not minding that, or being with me, then I'd be happy to have ye with me." The truth be told, she'd be happier for the company.

"I too have business on the Isle," Mandrake assured her happily, a smile splitting his face, "and 'things to learn' ... and would be more than pleased to see your family once more."

And as they boarded the ship, in companionable silence, Mandrake patting Laddie warily, Elsbeth shushing the wolf's warning growl, as the gnome attempted to make friends, something lifted in Edgar's heart. Perhaps with Elsbeth and the gnome (who with the wolf seemed to be the only one without any doubts) he might find answers to questions that had been raised, concerning the gods; answers that might help a raven with many blessings find the reason for those gifts, and his place in the scheme of things ... and perhaps in talking with them, in answering those questions, Elsbeth might resolve some of her own doubts and be comforted. Perhaps...

The run to Dincaoc was made much easier by the swift breeze that pushed the curragh down the coast. Despite Elsbeth's fears, Edwy greeted his cousin warmly, any awkwardness lingering from the last visit to his village is forgotten, though no doubt the absence of Yuri and Herloch made things far easier. As the headland came into sight, the single square sail was furled and the oarsmen bent their backs to manoeuvre the vessel past the tall cliffs, to beach it on the sheltered cove.

The climb up from the beach was steep, and the approach of night made everyone more cautious with only lanterns and torches to guide their feet. By the end of it, Mandrake was huffing into his beard from his exertions. But soon all made it to the village at the top, nestled safe behind the narrow causeway that connects this spit of land to the mainland.

Word of Elsbeth’s triumphs had come back to her family, as the young woman found out from her very proud mother. The older woman embraced her daughter. "Ye look a fright, Marva," she scolded her. "Ye might be some high-and-mighty in the lands of the new ones but you’re still bein’ of our clan." She tut-tutted over Elsbeth’s hair. "Long and scraggly. Have ye not been combin’ it as ye should? And this dress! Aach!"

The druid endured all happily, including recounting her adventures for her brothers and for cousin Edwy. Truly, it was good to be home! However, when she mentioned to Edwy her desire to travel to the Holy Isle, he became serious. He told her that she would have to speak with her great-uncle Segovax before she left.

The leader of her people could not help but see a different druid when she finally went to see him. Elsbeth was a far cry from the wild girl that Segovax had sent to watch over celtic interests with the new constable. It was to this more mature grand-niece that he now gave a secret message, one meant for the High Druid himself.

His two-legged companions otherwise occupied and seeking to avoid the attentions of curious villagers as they could not, Edgar sought out the company of Laddie, the wolf barely raising an eyebrow when first the raven approached, maybe because the scent was a familiar, non-threatening one, but most like the warmth of the day made it too much trouble for the wolf to stir himself. Though the purloined strips of meat that the raven is able to ply him with do elicit a certain amount of interest, and while it would be inaccurate to say that the two became firm friends, the wolf did at least look forward to the times the raven sought him out, for the meal if not the company. And he could always be relied upon to prick up his ears should the sound of Elsbeth's voice carry to him, and Edgar could only marvel at the relationship between the two, their devotion to each other obvious ... though perhaps some of that was in their shared wildness, the wildness that shuns civilisation and, though perhaps she'd never admit it, which kept her separate from family and friends, however much she cared for them or they for her.

Mandrake, though ... if there was aught that kept him separate from his companions, it was the simple fact that he was different to them, by birth and by inclination. As a gnome, his outlook was unlike that of the humans; as a mage amidst those who were priests and warriors or both, perhaps only Peter, quiet Peter, who saw all and yet was somehow untouched by it, could appreciate his scholarly interests. And Edgar, of course, a talking bird being even more out of place in that company.

Toward the end of their short stay, Elsbeth was taken aside by her brother Artur. The youngest of the brothers, he had always looked out for his little sister, sharing with her a love of the forests and wilds. Now, he sat her down…

"Little Marva, ye come home troubled," he told her, using his nickname for her. "Would ye be tellin’ me what is botherin’ ye?"

Without intending to, she told her tale of her misgivings- her fears of not being strong enough, not being a good druid, not being useful enough to Rolf and the others. She told of her uncertain love for Madelyn, her fears for what that meant. She told of her talks with Ravn and the questions they raised. By the time she was done, the tears fell freely and Artur embraced his sister in comfort and understanding.

"So much ye be carrying on your back, Little Marva!" he told her gently. "You’re still but a child in so many ways. No, I don’t be meanin’ wrong by that!" he interjected, seeing the look on her face. "Ye’ve found and lost love and its not what ye thought nor with who ye thought. So? Love knows no boundries, especially among your kind! And if its meant to be with man or woman, then so it shall. We’re but men and women ourselves. Only the Gods know the whole."

He stroked her hair. "And for the rest, ye can be no more than ye are. You’re my Little Marva and I’ll always be proud of ye. You’re also Elsbeth to your Newcomer friends, and they count on ye. To Edwy you’re our voice to the outsiders, to the druids you’re their ambassador of the true belief. But in all that is the little girl that loved the fields and the birds and came home with flowers in her hair and dirt on her feet. All that is you, and all that is grand. Its all ye are, and I’d have it no other way."

Visit over and fare-ye-well's said (this second pass of leavetaking following hard upon the first was even more of an ordeal for Elsbeth, but she managed it somehow, mask back in place), it was back to the curragh for the voyage to Angasa. This time the voyage was harder, as the ship struggled to make headway into the breeze that aided the rowers before, but now caused them to curse and grumble. The heavy swell did naught for Elsbeth's stomach either, and she spent much of the journey with a decidedly greenish tinge to her pale skin. Neither the gnome nor the raven suffered so, but the glances the pair received from both girl and men soon brought an end to any attempt at conversation, and it was a relief to all when finally the ship nudged the dock.

The difficult voyage left scarcely a day before the "Guillemot" was due to depart - barely time for Elsbeth to recover and for Mandrake to arrange their passage and make what purchases they needed. The ship was small, but news that they would needs share a cabin with others was tempered by the discovery that Jesse and Rethe, along with two of their kinsmen, were numbered amongst their companions.

Sailing conditions had not improved by the time the "Guillemot" set sail for Stilmouth, much to Elsbeth's dread, but as they got further out to sea and the ship was caught in the teeth of a summer storm, Elsbeth perked up a bit, and ventured out on deck whist the rest sheltered below, laughing in the face of the wild winds, her braids loosed and her auburn hair whipping about her shoulders, the grey in her eyes matching the clouds above, the winds that roused the sea and lashed the ship serving to recharge her spirit.

Back in the cabin, once other topics of conversation had been exhausted, Edgar was able to press those who shared the cabin into teaching him something of the Gaelic tongue and religion. Of the former, the raven proved an apt student, picking up the nuances of inflection and grammar readily. However, the more Elsbeth and Rethe (with able assistance from the others) told him of the latter, the more questions he found himself asking, as he groped for understanding, questions that did not lift when the storm finally cleared as the Island came in sight, and did not end when the ship put too in Stilmouth.

But all questions would have to wait, for the Holy Isle itself and the meeting with the Barralli drew near. A few gold coins and a couple of hours saw the party disembarking from a small fishing vessel, thence a short walk from the beach to the college where passes were arranged.

The closer they had come to the Isle, the more strained that Elsbeth had become, both nervous and expectant. Little do the others know that this young woman is a far cry from the timid girl that had chosen her path as a druid. This was to her both a homecoming and a test of what she has learned.

The young woman had a student’s pass, one that allowed her access to all the grounds. Jesse and Rethe were with her, though the others were not allowed. Elsbeth quickly buried herself in the life of the Isle, apologizing to both Mandrake and Edgar. "I’m needin’ to be findin’ myself," she told them. "I’m hopin’ I find it here."

Among her first actions is to meet with Lord Oliver Barralli, the High Druid, Raven King of Arms, Barrali of the Barrallis and Baron of the Holy Isle. Jesse and Rethe both accompanied her for the first part of half-hour interview, mostly to discuss the ceremonies and the hunt that all had participated in. He took notes but chose not to render judgement on them. He then changed the subject.

"Well Jesse - you say you have spoken to Segovax about this matter," the older man stated, his hands clasped on the table before him. "And that he sent a message with the girl. Elsbeth - did Segovax send a message for me?"

Jesse stood and looked to Elsbeth. "She’d best tell you that, Lord." With that, he stood and both men left the young druid with Barralli.

Elsbeth hesitated, looking at her hands in her lap. The older man leaned forward. "Don’t have fears, Elsbeth Marva," he told her gently. "Your path has not been easy, with outsiders or the Gods. Truth be told, Segovax had concerns for your youth. I did not." Elsbeth looked up in surprise. "Aye, I knew you had the strength. Your conduct has shown that, both in your actions and your thoughts."

"But," she protested, "I almost caused a conflict with the giant. I have fought more with the Constable than helped, I fear."

Barralli smiled. "You’ve done better than many because your faith is so strong. Remember, the Gods themselves are not perfect. The wind fights the earth, the animals fight the birds, man fights man. I’d be worried if you had no problems, for that would mean that your ego was stronger than your dedication." He sighed. "Now. What is this message?"

Elsbeth brushed her hair from her face "My Great Uncle wishes you to know that he will support you publicly," she told him carefully.

Barralli looked serious. "Indeed? This is good news." He looked at Elsbeth. "This is good news for me, and news that you must keep from all others. Do you understand?"

With her nod, he stood. "Your clan’s faith in you is well placed, Elsbeth Marva." He indicated the door. "I would suggest that you find Cartamanda, our chief warrior. She can instruct you in arms. I also suggest you speak with Anila Pronk, our sage. She can assist you with your languages, particularly since you have inherited a Wild Friend." He said the last smiling down at the wolf at her feet. "And do not forget- you are who the Gods made. Remember your family and your heritage and you cannot fail."