Uloar pressed down on Enna's wrist and shook her head. "This is no good, Enna, you're too tense. " She addressed the wood elf priest in training, demonstrating that spell for her once more. "It must be like this... The High Priestess told you before, did you forget? " Uloar spoke patiently, with the kind of tenderness that outlanders and traitors would never be shown.

As one of Jathalea's entourage, Uloar had been at her side for a long time. Sometime ago, she had witnessed firsthand how the young Jathalea had fought tremendous pressure to secure a safe haven for Sythairelan, at a time Nytheria was plunged into darkness. Back then, they weren't so very different. Jathalea was the most diligent one of a group of mentees. Many years later, Uloar advanced from being her subordinate, to becoming her successor.

She knew she spoke curtly, but what of it? Uloar wasn't concerned with how the outlanders viewed her, nor did she care what they thought. Guarding Sythairelan was already a struggle. If they had followed the principles of weakness and kindness in everything, they'd have long since been overwhelmed by the encroaching forest. Deep down, she'd never approved of Jathalea's ideas and handling methods. As for Enna... Given her willingness to be a naive wood elf, that's her choice.