I held in my hands what no one else could see. I felt the spirit of the willow branches before me, heard them telling me to be careful with how I moved them. I was always gentle.
"Hakura," I bade the branches, and they bent to my will. Soon, the strong willow dome was formed. Over the top of the willow dome I placed a waxy sheet of leaves, which I had sewn together to form a rain cover. Wandering over to the tree trunk, and finding the holes the birds had made while gathering bark to make nests, I held the trunk in my hands and whispered. "Laetisha," before kissing the trunk gently with my whitened lips. I smiled as I felt a surge of warmth behind me. Elowyn had prepared a fire. "Laetisha, Elowyn, but be careful not to set the willow huts alight, for their spirit still lives, and we must sleep there tonight." Elowyn looked at me with her wide green eyes, filled with the passion of her fiery heart. She laughed, twirling her mahogany hair in her fingers.
"You worry too much, Aven. Learn to live a little." I knew that she was well meaning, and she was right, I was a perfectionist, worrying over every detail and punishing myself for any deviation from the task in hand. I drew my dagger from its belt and, using it as a looking-glass, adjusted my short, dark hair, ruffling it a little. I reached into my rose-leaf bag and drew out my aven plant, adding an extra layer of its smooth paste to my lips. My lips always had to be the purest white, for I was bound by tradition to display my purity to all who saw me. Elowyn ignored this Elven tradition, but presently she was ignoring me, mounting her wonderful dragon. Her name was Sunelya, and she was a beautiful creature, a more vivid purple than the violets in which the faerie folk dwell, far away in the Greene Meadows. As they ascended to the Skye to scan the area, Faeth knelt near the river, washing a small pile of clothing. Some of them were suspended from an oak branch to dry, occasionaly helped by a gust of Faeth's wind power. Princess Meredyth was practicing her psychic powers, her face in deep concentation and her eyes even whiter than my lips. She lay on the west bank of the river, looking Skye-wards towards the celestial beings which no one else could see. I went down to the bank to gather the sweet berries which grew on the nearby shrubs. I placed them into a separate compartment of my bag, the one for ingredients, intending to mash them into a sweet healing potion with my mincer and a few enchanted words. Just then, Elowyn and Sunelya came to rest by the fire.
"Any sign?" I asked.
"None, we're safe for now." Elowyn replied, before she stroked Sunelya's nuzzle. They had a deep affinity, one stronger than oak roots. With them surveying the area from above, I felt safe. I walked to a sheltered boulder and knelt down, and prepared to make my potion. With our own functions and talents within the group, I felt secure. For a short while, I felt content. Yet my moment of calm was shattered by a realisation. We were the Rogues.
And we were Aeridia's last hope.