The bishop reclined against the cold stone of the ancient ruins, eyes shut tightly in meditative concentration. The chill wind of Valor howled around him, drowning out the sounds of battle raging outside his decrepit sanctuary. The shadows cast by the archaic monoliths wrapped around him like an inky black veil, shielding him from the prying eyes of both warring factions. He certainly never expected a woman to break his years of solitude in such a desolate place, but more often than not, serendipity works in the strangest of ways.

She staggered into the ruins, seeking a brief moment of respite from the fighting going on all around her. Her long green hair was plastered to her sweat-drenched brow, and her breath came in short, ragged gasps. Her rugged clothing, attire of a Sacaean plainswoman, was torn, ripped, and bloodstained in many places. In her exhausted state, she did not see the meditating priest until she had nearly collapsed on top of him.

"Oh! Who's there!" she cried, jumping back and drawing her sword. "What are you doing?"

The bishop opened his eyes, almost as surprised as she was. He certainly wasn't expecting any human intrusion into his solitary pilgrimage. But he saw the girl's battle fatigue and panic, and responded in the most soothing tones he could manage.

"Peace, child. I mean you no harm. My name is Renault. I'm merely on a pilgrimage, nothing more."

The woman sighed, visibly relieved. Her sword went back to its sheath, and she bowed her head in penance.

"A bishop? Forgive me, I didn't realize…"

"Think nothing of it."

As he gazed at her face, Renault was taken aback by what he saw. She possessed great beauty, despite the dirt, blood, and other detritus of warfare that concealed it. This was nothing new to the bishop, however. He had seen many gorgeous women during the course of his wandering. He had also learned how ultimately superficial such beauty was. There was something different about this girl, though—Renault couldn't put his finger on it, but this stranger possessed something beyond good looks, something he hadn't seen in a very long time. Even though it was against his better judgment, Renault had to know more about his new acquaintance.

"What is your name?" he inquired. "What are you doing here? You don't seem to be with the black-robed group I saw earlier…"

"My name is Lyndis of the Lorca, Your Excellency." The girl responded. "My allies and I stand opposed to the black-robed villains you describe." She tilted her head in curiosity. "Why are you here? This battle is nothing that need concern you! Please conceal yourself as soon as you can."

The bishop sighed, his voice heavy with sadness. He had seen many souls lost in war, yet for some reason, the prospect of Lyn's death seemed more tragic than the many others he had witnessed—and caused.

"There's no way I can convince you to lay down your arms, can I?"

Lyndis shook her head. "I'm sorry, Your Excellency."

Renault sighed again, and stood up from his kneeling position. Lyndis gasped slightly, and her hand inadvertently went to the hilt of her sword. Although Renault wore Elimine's sacred cloth, he was still a physically imposing man. He stood nearly 7 feet tall, and his rippling muscles, toned body, and chiseled features belied the soft and delicate stereotype of an Eliminean priest. The girl's reaction was understandable, and Renault merely smiled. He reached into his traveler's satchel and pulled out a loaf of bread, a canteen of water, and some succulent boiled-rabbit dumplings.

"Wh…where did you get those!" Lyn exclaimed, salivating slightly.

Renault smiled again, and held the treats out to the exhausted young woman. "These are just my traveling rations, Lyndis. Go ahead. You can have them."

Hesitantly, Lyn stepped forward, but stopped. "Your Excellency, I…I thank you for your charity, but I can't eat these. I should not take from a holy man's food!"

"Did Elimine not preach charity?" Renault replied. "I would be a poor bishop indeed if I did not offer you at least some aid. Please, sit down and eat with me, Lyndis. You're on the brink of collapse. Some food might help you regain enough strength to continue onwards."

"Well…I suppose you're right." Renault patted a spot on the ground next to him, and held out his potations. The young woman sat down and immediately began to devour her meal with gusto. She seemed to grow stronger with every bite. The bishop's heart lightened momentarily—at least he had been able to provide some modicum of solace to this battered girl. Yet, watching her eat, Renault grew more and more convinced that there was something quite unique about her. And he grew more determined to figure it out.

"Pardon me, Lyndis," he said, "But there's one thing I would ask in return for my hospitality."

"Of course, Father," the nomad replied in between bites of bread. "What do you wish?"

"I would like to know how old you are."

Lyndis blinked, startled at this odd query. "I'm eighteen, Bishop Renault."

"Eighteen!" Renault exclaimed. "A girl like you is fighting in battle?"

Lyndis shot him an icy cold glare. "I may be young, bishop, but I'm no little girl. I can handle a sword as well as anyone. The Lorca do not raise weaklings."

Renault drew back, realizing he had offended his new companion. "My apologies, Lyndis. I was merely curious."

"No, it is alright, Your Excellency. I should not have been as disrespectful."

They sat together in silence for a few minutes longer, as Lyn finished off the last of her food and began to down Renault's canteen of water. The bishop could not help asking one final question before the woman left him.

"Lyndis…what drives you to fight so?"

The swordswoman stared at him, perplexed yet again by this strange bishop and his puzzling questions. "What do you mean?"

"You're a beautiful, talented girl. I have no doubt you could live a life of happiness in some peaceful village far away from here. So why do you choose to fight?"

Lyndis stepped back, blushing furiously. "Bishop!" she exclaimed. "You have no right to-"

"I was not flirting." Renault said, his face as solemn and cheerless as a mausoleum. "I am genuinely curious. You have such great potential, Lyndis. Why do you choose to squander it on the battlefield?"

Lyndis was silent for a moment, convinced of the bishop's sincerity. She then looked Renault straight in the eyes, and gave him her answer.

"I do not expect you to understand this, Your Excellency," she said. "You have taken a vow of nonviolence, after all, and I do not intend to change that. However, there are things I am willing to fight for, and perhaps even give my life for. My friends are on a quest to save their homelands, and perhaps all of Elibe, and I will stand by them every step of the way. No matter how strong my opponent is, I will NEVER abandon my friends!"

As he stared into her eyes, Renault finally realized exactly what made this girl so special. There was clarity in those orbs, conviction, a firm sense of right and wrong, and the courage to adhere to that morality. Though this warrior had obviously seen battle many times, somehow, her soul remained untainted by the bloodshed. The weary bishop had been wandering across the face of Elibe for many, many years, but it had been a very long time since he had seen anyone even remotely like this fiery young crusader.

"I see." Renault said. "You're set on your path, and I cannot change it. That being the case, I give you this."

He reached into the folds of his robes and drew out a small, innocuous looking gray stone. Although it bore no distinguishing features, it seemed to pulsate with an strange power.

"It may help you live longer. Even if you face the misery of defeat in combat, you may yet find another path if you live."

Lyn pocketed the small charm. "You have my gratitude, Father."

"May you be watched over and protected in your venture, Lyndis." The bishop replied.

"Thank you, and you as well, Renault."

Invigorated by her repast, Lyndis unsheathed her blade and strode back to battle. Renault watched her disappear into the baleful miasma of warfare. Sighing sadly, the bishop gazed toward the skies above. The benign, fluffy clouds dotting a serene ocean of blue presented a bitter contrast to the chaos and misery on the ground below.

"Heed my prayer," he whispered. "There is still hope for that girl. I beg of you…do not take it away."