Mary Rancour praised the World Guardian's cool strategy and military efficiency in solving Sliske's puzzles and dispatching the wights.
Meg sang about how the World Guardian had flown like the wind and led them out of the accursed tunnels alive.
Mary Rancour asserted that the World Guardian is busy drafting strategies and that Burthorpe will provide her all the aid she requires.
Meg swore on how the World Guardian was surrounded by piles of books and weapons in the bid to rid Gielinor of some of its troubles once and for all.
Mary Rancour said she felt determined and quietly pleased despite the losses.
Meg assured everyone that she was as optimistic as ever.
That was not how it had happened, though.
That was not how it currently was like.
That was not how they felt.
Mary Rancour had lifted the World Guardian's broken body on top of her sturdy shoulders and bravely taken the onslaught of the falling ceiling.
Meg had become an adventurer at last. She had held off a posse of wights all by herself.
Mary Rancour had put the World Guardian in the most hidden away room she could find, and made sure Burthorpe provided the best aid in the form of its finest and most trustworthy surgeons and pharmacists.
Meg hid the fact that in one of the precious few moments when the World Guardian was awake and lucid, she had thrown herself into yet another frenzy when Meg had mentioned merely Relomia's name.
Mary Rancour felt disgusted at how she had blamed the World Guardian for their predicament. She saw it as a personal obligation to hide away from the lazy guards the fact that the World Guardian was as fragile as them.
Meg never returned to the ports like she said she would. Never had she thought she would see her heroine broken in flesh, soul and heart. She would never see her heroine as the tall, shining, beaming woman again.