Recently, Myshrai Ar'tinuilin asked several members of the Fortress of Light for aid in locating a healer of some infamy. This healer is known to travel the realm, helping where she can, creating what can only be described as miracles. Myshrai had something quite particular that he needed her aid with, and after some discussion and negotiation with the Fortress, she agreed to help. The following is a rumor of what happened there after:

A figure stands upon the cliffs facing the Sea of Despair. The setting sun illuminates her figure, decorating her with an unearthly beauty and flaring her hair red-gold.

She stands perfectly still for several long moments, watching the roiling clouds and restless waves.

She studies the pattern formed by the striking lightning bolts, moving forward so that the tips of her toes hang off the cliff edge.

The wind whips around her figure, a force pulling at her, trying to tear her from her stance.

She raises one hand to the clouds, clenches it and brings it to her heart, her eyes glowing with an uncanny magic.

The dark clouds shake suddenly, a violent tremor passing through them.

The lightning arcs shooting down from the sky above suddenly curve, striking down and then up in an arc through the clouds rather than hitting the Sea itself.

The wind begins to howl in anger as the magic corrupting this place shifts and is changed by an unnatural force.

They tear at the figure, buffeting her angrily, whipping her hair around her.

She raises her free hand, holding it in a powerful halting gesture to the winds, and they, too, seem to calm to her bidding.

The waves calm, though they are still hit by the occasional bolt, it seems as though most of the energy has been inverted to be kept to the clouds.

Two glittering teardrops of pure sapphire magic fall from the woman's glowing eyes, and the uncanny fades from her gaze, running in a track down her cheek.

Bathed in twilight blue and nearly-black violet, her hair like molten gold down her back, the figure atop the cliff finally steps back, lowering her hands.

Her knees buckle, and it seems simply through an act of will that she does not fall.

She turns and walks from the cliff slowly, her back straight, and disappears into the night.