It was late at night, the sun had long since given over guardianship of the sky to Argus’ moon. The night was quiet in the small tranquil temple resting at the edge of a forest in the middle of nowhere. It had been built to be a tranquil refuge for those who wished to dedicate their lives to becoming an Anchorite.
There was a chill in the air, it wasn’t freezing but it was clear to anyone who stepped outside that winter would soon be upon them. The better indicator was perhaps the ancient tree standing in the centre of that tranquil garden, its verdant leaves having changed color to a mixture of yellows, browns, and reds.
All was quiet and peaceful in that tranquil garden, and no one witnessed the flash of pale blue light that illuminated the central gazebo. There was no one to hear the distinct swoosh of magic, nor did anyone but the moon witness the shape of a tall Eredar woman fade into existence at the centre of the gazebo.