She had tried to find succour at the various courts of the land but found herself turned away. Nogriffon sought the services of a Cloud Knight these days, however skilled. Not King Fredrik of Houndsdoom, not Queen Stratabreak of Allsreach, neither the Free Marches, the Grand City of Qurent with its ivory fortress, the kingdom of the Hebrides, the Everlast Republic nor the petty lords of the realm. She spent no less than five years crossing the high kingdom of Griffonia, plying her trade honestly, be it the sword or her use as a courier or anything else she could do honourably. Every penny that wasn’t spent on her sister went into keeping them both fed and not much more. It seemed she was doomed as Fallow was, to wander until her heart grew weary and she gave up, to wait while her sister slowly turned to living ash inside and out and die long before her time. To fail.