With all her might, nimble Mirabelle dashed across the burnt plains and away from the unfriendly forest. Only a few more miles to go before she would reach the flaming guard tower. But her legs were finally giving up on her. She was exhausted from the run, and her worsening allergies were no help to her either.

No, Mirabelle said to herself, I must deliver the warning. The people of the town of the flaming tower must prepare themselves for battle, no, for war, the Green War.

The wearied messenger took a few more steps before she dropped onto the ground. It was no use. She would need to rest a bit, but first she would need a good place to hide.

After crawling to where the grass was highest, Mirabelle was finally able to close her eyes. Only ten minutes, she told herself, but Mirabelle had already started to doze off.

Her message would not be delivered. The war would be starting without her.