Nymara laid her silver flute aside and stared up at the early evening sky with a distant, solemn look on her beautiful face. “This is when this world reminds me of Sildueyuir,” she sighed softly, feeling the eyes of the other on her, “always draped in the soft glow of twilight… our glass citadels glittering in the star light.” She looked about at her companions and her face brightened with a warm smile. “We are not far from where my family’s home would stand… It would rise from the dell just there,” she pointed into the darkening forest, “its spires towering well above the trees… we could easily see them from here. I can just imagine my father in the highest tower, looked down upon his cherished domain, my sisters dancing in the great hall, and the children playing…” Her expression turned solemn again as her voice trailed off and thoughts of her missing niece flooded in upon her. “You’ll see them again,” Talice comforted her, draping her arm around the star elf’s slender shoulders reassuringly as she sat beside her. “Not until I return Calastra to my brother’s arms,” Nymara replied with resolve. “She’s only a child, not even a century old. I should’ve told my brother of her gift… and her curiosity about this world. It is my fault that she’s missing… and my responsibility to return her home!” “You told her not to use the menhir,” Talice tried to relieve the guilt that nearly choked her voice. “No child heeds such a warning,” Nymara bemoaned sadly, her eyes brimming with tears. “There’s no cause for despair,” Courynn said with a calm but commanding tone, placing a hand gently on her shoulder as he knelt before her and smiled reassuringly. “We know she’s with the Ancient and therefore still in the Yuirwood, so all we have to do is find them.” Nymara looked up into Courynn’s face, then panned her eyes to Talice’s, Cosar’s and Rynard’s; on each she saw resolve as clear as her own and her heart lifted at the thought that these near strangers could care so much for her niece, a child they didn’t even know. No matter what depths of evil Faerun had fallen to since her people fled this world, as long there were those who would stand to help others for no more reason than it was the right thing to do, there was still hope for it. They all sat in resolute silent for a long moment, bound by an unspoken oath, until Cosar broke the solemn mood by asking; “In Sildueyuir star elves live in buildings of glass?” “Yes,” Nymara responded, looking up at the roguish half-elf a bit surprised by the question and confused why such a thing would interest him. “Don’t you believe in… privacy?” he inquired, openly eyeing her alluring figure with a sly grin. “Modesty isn’t a virtue star elves embrace strongly,” she replied capriciously as a coy smile turned her lips, amused by his adolescent, but charming, humor. “I’d have thought you’d notice that by now.” ****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** This is the end of this series. I'd like to thank every one who has faithfully followed it! I have envisioned further adventures for the "Twilight Blades", but writers block has prevented me from getting them out of my sick little mind and on to "paper".