You must find the clues in each tome.

For I am bound by magics not to speak.

-Note within the hidden journal.

“Radiance.” Valleresa hissed, walking up to Celeste and Kriss. They still held on to one another, and looking between each other, they quickly separated. Celeste felt her cheeks grow warm, but Valleresa didn’t seem to notice. “Have either of you two bothered to take a look around any time recently?” Her eyes darted around the neighbourhood intensely.

Celeste looked at her sister, then took in their surroundings. The whole area seemed to shift in front of her eyes, the Southshore she knew slipping away with every step. In place of the tall lean-to's that pressed up against the city walls were wide, squat buildings. Leathers stretched across many of the surfaces, and often bones hung in the windows, carved into small figures.

Along the streets were huge spaces, taking up the spots of five or six lots, filled with dozens of leather tents. The fine leathers of the tents were freshly oiled, with ornamentation hanging from the finely carved wooden stakes used to hold them up. They seemed nothing like the sad canvas tents of the shantytowns Celeste had sometimes passed on her processions. The large tents, some nearly as wide as a Southshore home, were organized in small groups of as many as seven tents. At the centre of each of these groups were large bonfires, surrounded by red-skinned people sitting on low stools. Everywhere she looked those men strode about with their tall, powerful forms. The Korek.

Some patched up the tents, others carved wood, and many just moved about carrying heavy loads to and fro. Around some of the bonfires older Korek men and women sat, singing songs in the harsh guttural tongue of Koreki. Some used instruments, a few twisting carved animal horns blown into to produce deep rhythmic sounds, a series of varying sized small drums contained in a long piece of wood that provided a steady beat. Together they created music that the children danced and played along to. It had a rhythm that quickly caught Celeste in it's spell, moving her to sway with the drum beats. For a moment she imagined dancing with Kriss to those undulating tones. A reddening of her cheeks put a quick end to those thoughts.

“Korek-town.” Kriss said with shock. “I’ve never actually been here before.”

“And for good reason.” Arabella filled in. “This is a bad neighbourhood Your Radiance. We should be leaving before we draw any attention.”

“There is no such thing, Sister Arabella.” Celeste responded. She could not imagine how her friends could look at this gentle scene and feel fear. There was so much warmth and life here, it felt… honest. It felt like the community that she wished the rest of Southshore could have.

A screeching wail caught Celeste’s attention. Celeste moved to follow the sound but found Valleresa holding her back.

“Radiance, I know you want to help but the Korek aren’t like us. They’re a savage people, uneducated and violent.” She shook her head. “You of all people should know, they’re of the Chaos.”

Celeste shrugged Valleresa’s hand off and gave her a look of utter disappointment. “They were chosen by the First Mother to receive the gift of life. They are Her children as much as you or I, Valleresa.” Celeste turned from her sister and followed that sorrowful sound. It was a pained sound and it called to Celeste in its desperation.

Celeste passed children playing and music ringing, not another soul seeming to care for the howls of a desperate woman. In fact, as Celeste neared, she noticed they seemed to play louder, drowning out the desperate sounds best they could. She began to feel sick.

Rounding the corner, Celeste saw her. A Korek woman, pale red skin in place of the vibrant red of her kin, and with waist length, unkempt black hair in half undone braids. She sobbed desperately, resting on her knees, as men and women passed her by. Nobody stopped, not even for what the woman held in her hands. A baby. Celeste stormed over, furious at these people for ignoring an anguished mother and her child. How could they be so cruel? What was happening here? Celeste didn’t understand, but she also couldn’t accept that all these people were so unfeeling.

Approaching the woman, Celeste saw her hopelessly grasping at the clothing of passersby. Each time she touched one though, the Korek would kick the hand away. The baby in her hands barely moved, and somehow, even from several paces away, Celeste felt that it was weak. Getting closer, the woman finally noticed Celeste.

“H… Help. Fershya. Me, help. Please.” She cried, seeming to struggle with the words. Celeste furrowed her brow, she had never met anyone that could not speak Terminian. Yet here this Korek women struggled with basic words. Celeste looked at the infant closer now, it was terribly pale with its skin barely holding its red hue. Her heart broke. The baby was dying.

“I am here to help.” Celeste assured her. “Your child will be alright, I promise.” Reaching out with her hand, the gates within her soul already opening at the sight of pale, struggling child. Infants were most beloved by the First Mother, and Celeste would not stand idle as one suffered. The woman tentatively held out the child, heavy tears streaming down her face, and Celeste began to feel the life flowing down her arm as she…

“STOP!” A deep feminine voice shouted with a heavy Korek accent. Celeste turned to look at the newcomer and found perhaps the oldest Korek she had ever seen.

The woman was tall compared to Celeste, but the years, counted in wrinkles across her face, had bowed her back. She hobbled toward them with a cane, long braided dark grey hair jingling with the dozens of carved bone clasps clunking against one another.

“You do not help child.” The woman said, moving with surprising speed for someone so old. The young mother beside Celeste cringed at the sight of the newcomer and held the baby tightly to her chest. “You can not help child.” The woman’s cane thudding against the ground in emphasis.

“Ethinia would never deny any soul Her light.” Celeste responded, holding her ground. “And neither shall I.”