A breeze rustled through the branches of the trees, almost sending the stack of colored paper strips on the table in front of Nectarios flying away. Before that could happen, a silver-purple Estra quickly flew up and set itself on them, chiming softly at their cossetling. The white-haired cossetling patted their herald appreciatively, speaking softly.
“My thanks, Ambrosius. Could you fetch the box I brough...