> Meanwhile at the Eska of Lucky and Ai Lote:
Lucky struggled against the pillows in his bed. The mysterious soreness that had been bothering him all week had finally left his muscles. Probably due to the horrible chicken soup that Ai had been forcing down his throat. She was the best mela a man could hope for but her cooking skills needed help desperately. Suddenly a dark feeling crowded his mind. A thought of his old teacher. But the thought was not of the strong, commanding elf that had taken him under his wing and taught him. It was a feeling of pain, a feeling of helplessness. “Morion, something is wrong with Morion.” Lucky thought to himself. Lucky scrambled from bed. “Ai, we must go to the Arrow. Something is not right! Mor is in trouble I just know it.”
