It was time. The moons, like discs of pure white ivory, hung above the river. Slowly, they crept together, forming a celestial ring in the heavens. Mimicking the circle of moons above their heads, a congregation of figures sat cross-legged, clad in flowing white robes. Veils of an equally pale luster covered their faces. A figure from among them came towards the center, a cool night breeze tinged with sand shifting her vestments. With an arm shaking from age, the wyrd figure raised aloft a prism of crystal. With a voice like tarnished silver, she began to sing in the ancient language of Zerana. "We are gathered here when the moons become one." The congregation called back to her, like a multitude of echoes. "In the spirit of wholeness, we gather." Her voice shook from excitement, age, and religious zeal. "O mother of all life, hear our plea! We devote our hearts unto thee. We implore you from the deepest reaches of our soul to give us your guidance so that we may make the world whole again!" The sisterhood chanted their assent. The wizened leader's voice rang out like a knell. "Who shall care for the prophet?" With renewed vigour, she raised the crystalline prism to the heavens. The congregation shifted, stirred, and murmured prayers. Suddenly, the moons converged overhead. Unifying their light into a single beam, the drop of light fell from the grail of the gods into the prism. Refracting into all the colors of the spectrum, the gods directed their gaze onto a young girl in the circle. A mere child of fourteen years, when the beam fell upon her, she began to weep, if only out of sheer happiness. This is what they had been raised to do, all their lives. Among the emotion-choked chants of her sisters, she made her way to the shore of the river. Wading four paces in, she removed her veil, and spread her arms, the white linen flowing with the river's currents. Turning her face towards the unified moons, she sang out the prayer, in a voice that was both strong and tuneful. "O, great goddess! We will carry out your wishes in this universe! We will make everything whole! We will end all war!" Taking a great gasp of the cool night air, she summoned her courage, and prayed with all her soul. "Send us your prophet!" Then, the water began roiling and bubbling violently, as if some great leviathan from out of the past were rising from the riverbed. The sisterhood gasped, but stood rapt. A glowing nucleus, like an ancient star, began floating along the bubbling current. As soon as it reached where the sisters stood, the roiling motion stopped. The river was peaceful and still as a mirror, reflecting the aligned moons. With an awed reverence, the young girl, Jila, stepped towards the glowing object. It was a strange casket, equal parts hypersteel and crystal. A white-blue light emanated from within, casting ghostly shadows onto the faces of the sisterhood. Like one walking in a dream, she placed her palm on a glowing panel at the front of the casket. It emitted a pure, bell-like tone, and the crystalline lid raised itself. Lying on the padded grey pillows, illuminated by the strange lights, was an infant, a Cyrathilian of ivory and gold. It stretched, opened its brilliant golden eyes, and stared at the sisters. They stared back. Their life's mission had came closer to fulfillment.