PinkFae slowly walked up the wooden steps to Balasiel, an old Elvaan. He was still standing in the same spot he was the last time she saw him, watching the people walk by from atop a walkway in Southern San d’Oria. He glanced over at PinkFae, slowly stroking his small, grey goatee with his thumb.
“Don’t tell me,” he said, “I never forget a face. PinkFae, isn’t it?”
PinkFae nodded her head, her tail wagging back and forth very slowly. “Yes, sirrr, that is corrrrect. I have come back after gaining more experrrience as you said. I have been to the grrrand city of Jeuno and fought at the island of Qufim. Now, please, tell me what you know of my mother.”
Balasiel smiled brightly at the Mithra and he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ah, you’ve come quite a way since last we met, I see. The answers will come to you in time, PinkFae. I can tell you have learned much since we last meet. Your wild Mithra nature is tamer, and I can see the tears of Altana in your eyes.” He paused, looking deep into her eyes. His gaze made her fur stand on end, and she quickly looked down at the road beneath her breaking his spell. “I believe you are ready for another task!”