The smell of ash was the first indication that something was wrong. When Nayru peeled cherry eyes open the smoking billowing into the green house blocked out any sight that otherwise would have been possible. Her first thought was to how she had been breathing so peacefully in sleep when suddenly the heat and weight of smoke filled her lungs? Coughing and choking Nayru felt her way to the door and pushed at it, finding it did not budge. Balled fists pounded the glass until the old panes creaked under the assault, and finally the glass fell in on its self, slicing her hands but allowing an exit. Tumbling out into the veiled garden, gasping for breath the warrior quickly pulled herself up, eyes scanning the area of the source of the smoke.

The cause was clear. Everything was aflame. The heat caused the air in front of her eyes to ripple and the smell of her own fur singing was soon unmistakable. The old mighty oak was barely a charred stump and no sign of the wooden swing that had been affixed could be found. The playground was blazing, the rotted shed total devoured by fire and even the koi pond oozed steam from all the heat. No one else was in the walled garden, Nayru knew this and for that she was grateful, knowing it foolish to try and save anything in the greenhouse. The books would burn, the recent gifts from the neighboring packs, her own personal jewelry from Bris and Gideon. Even the dagger she never was without was inside, and that too would be damaged, possibly lost. It didn't matter.

Pushing against the door she shoved. And shoved. And shoved. The stone did not budge and the smoke continued to blur her vision. With shaking hands she felt for the crevice in the solid wall that would tell her the door was right there. She couldn't find it. There was only one other way in or out of the garden. Running towards it, Nayru was pleased to find that the small hole, dug under the wall by two pairs of puppy paws many months ago, was still there. The frantic shift into lupus form had been quick but tiring as she continued to breath in the heavy smoke. However small and slender she was in her smallest form Nayru found that she could not slip through.

"You don't fit." Nayru spun at the sound. The navy eyes of the white woman seemed calm as they met with the frightened cherry eyes of the young girl. "You've grown too much. You just have to watch it burn. Nothing can stay the same, no one can." The terror fled as the smoke slowly melted away. The fire continued, Nayru could still feel the heat thought not as intensely as the wood of now dried out trees crackled around her. Slowly she looked around and without the imminent thread of death the mottled lady could take it in. This was her everything getting swallowed up all at once.

The jolt to consciousness came swiftly, and Nayru found herself sprawled on the hard pew of the tiny church. Sitting up she blinked dizzily about, slightly disoriented from the dream. Vaguely she imagined the scent of smoke, but it was quickly chased away by the sounds of Farore knocking dishes in the small kitchen. Letting the white woman and the fire slip from her mind Nayru hoisted herself up, and on steady and silent feet moved into the kitchen. Pushing open the door she found it empty, but the old heavy mugs they had salvaged laid out on the rickety wooden table. "Rore? Where'd you go?" Ducking her head into the small bedroom she found that too empty. Sighing to herself she moved back into the main hall, taking peace in the way the stain glass filtered colors onto the wooden floor.

Moving up to the altar Nayru reached under the podium meant for a minister. The skull that came out made her smile slightly, as she remembered Sage and her hardened companion Talitha. Slowly she turned it over in her hand, and then there was the voice. "Reputations are harder to shed than names." Nayru knew that when she turned the woman would be there, and yet when the figure did come into eyesight it was weak. Transparent, almost wavering, as if it clung to existence at all. "Why are you here?"

Nayru felt no fear at the appearance, remembering the few times that the woman had come to her more solidly. Remembering that it had been her who had brought Nayru to Dahlia de Mai at all. Yet she felt the apprehension when the lady spoke, her cold and rough voice unfitting for her small figure. The woman was as small as Nayru herself, a size that Nayru had yet to find anyone to match. "Why are you here?" Her heart quickened despite her internal pleas to steady the beat. Why was she here indeed?

There had never been any question in her purpose after Conor had left. Dahlia de Mai was her ward, the members her children. And yet, there was more than that, Nayru knew as she watched the woman flitting before her. Ebony lips parted to speak once more, but Nayru must have blinked because before she could find the words the lady was gone. In her place was only the stream of sunlight from the one tiny window not painted into a colored biblical scene.