He turned to Anest and smiled, wryly. "Did I not say to you that there was much sylph-magic in her yet?"
The others soon arrived, including Dorain, and the elven harwynglaive drew Lily to her feet. The elvish warrior bore the heightened, keen aspect of one freshly come from battle, and showed scarely a trace of her former limp. Lily hardly recognised the woman at first; the fierce eyes, the posture given over to the stance and rigor of fighting, the controlled, sublimated economy of motion of every step and movement. Seeing the nymph's reaction at her treating the girl as a fellow soldier, Dorain schooled herself to relax in her presence, taking a deep breath as she did so.
"A strange tale just came to my ears: that of a young water-nymph who saved us! Such a tale will not soon be forgotten by those present, for the enemy came at us in their hundreds, goblins and gnomes and trolls alike!" Remembering that she still bore it at the ready, Dorain sheathed her light glaive. The act seemed to serve to separate the warrior from the woman. "You could see in the eyes of that evil host the dread assurance that they would have at us with impunity! But no sooner did they attack than everything became very still, and with dread in our hearts we expected to see the fell, black shadows of demons falling about and among us like the razor-sharp shards of some unnatural and deadly falling night!