There still was much to do on her agenda list, even more so recently. Working on a spell to possibly fix Dagahra, possibly pop over to the GDF and leave a strongly spirited retort to whichever fools she found thought it a wise idea to shoot their own Guardian of Mortals with a black hole gun, maybe burn down another Red Bamboo or Dawn, she cared not for what they called themselves now, smuggling ring. It was a wonder what one could get away with as one of the strongest magic users left on the planet also being small enough to sneak right past people. Was a shame her sisters believed so much in the ‘not hurting any humans’ gig that they were nearly captured for it. Belvera had no such holding on those that deserved it.
 
So much to do, so much to do. She couldn’t ask for it any other way until the day her patron returned.
 
Hm, first female master. I wonder if Lea would prefer her old name or ‘Lady Battra’ when she becomes fully realized. Her predecessors all preferred ‘Lord Battra’ or their given names.
 
Belvera was just about to mount Garu-Garu again to depart when she felt it. Like a lance of ice through her chest as a burning sword struck her mind. It was a flicker, present one moment in sensation and then gone the next until it returned. One alien and yet extremely familiar.
 
A battra. She sensed a battra!
 
Belvera quivered as she put a hand to the side of her face and tried to look about both with her eyes and with her aura.
 
Ho-How?! Has Lea returned?! Did Terra’s manastream create another one? Wh-Where are they?!
 
She could feel the emotion behind it all. Anger, hatred, the craving for vengeance, and pain; so, so much pain! Belvera quivered and felt it all empathically, her eyes watering in ways they hadn’t since she believed her sisters had perished. It didn’t feel like the former battra of old, whose memory she impressed onto her psyche so much so she’d never forget them or let them blur together. This felt like the worst of her last two masters, Lea’s father and grandfather. The two most wrathful battra of all. And through it all, she could sense what it was coming from, who was coming from.
 
“Lea,” Belvera gasped breathlessly, wincing under the empathic load, “H-Help her…”
 
The eldest Shobijin felt so powerless, helpless as a tear trickled from her eye as she looked up into the starry void in pleading prayer, “Please, someone. She needs my song… help her.”