She has not seen the girl around since her birth. In some ways, that makes sense, given the condition of the young princess when she’d first been brought into this world. And the timing. None of it had been good. Lyanna had done what she could then, but the magic the Goddess gave her is still limited. Only the Gods could cure some things, and they so often seemed to ask a price for that. It seemed unfair, in a way, but she understood it. They couldn’t simply give the residents of Helovia everything. Couldn’t make their lives so beautiful that they did not appreciate the beauty. You only appreciate things when you know what the alternatives are. When you know what pain, suffering, and devastation looks like.

Their life in the Edge, even with the threat of Kaos looming, is blessed and beautiful. The Moon Goddess shows no signs of deserting them, as the Earth God had done to the Falls. Again, she can understand that decision, though she struggles with it and she struggles with so many things in life. Things should be fair. Life should be easy. But it’s not, and it cannot be. How do you reconcile those notions?

You don’t, and so she simply dwells on it now and again.

But today is different. Today is the sort of day were curiosity lives. Because life is not meant to live in hiding, in saftey, even when it makes sense or when one should. Lyanna recognizes the girl instantly, though she imagines the girl does not remember her. But how could Lyanna forget that beautiful little filly? Even if she had never met her before, the girl looks like her parents and is impossible to mistake.

When Lyanna finds her, the filly is leaning against a tree, breathing heavily, and she almost calls upon the Moon’s magic without asking. But then she stops herself, offering a soft smile and a friendly nicker instead. “Hello, I’m Lyanna,” she says, coming to stop a poliet distance away from the princess. “I’m one of the Moon Doctors here. Can I offer a bit of help?” The magic wouldn’t fix it. She already knows this. Already tried, once. But the magic would help the exhaustion and the shortness of breath, at least. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

The princesses reply breaks her heart. Because she wants to fix the child completely, wants to take the pain and the suffering and make it her own. She would take that heart that doesn’t quite work and cut out her own if she could. But no amount of herbs or magic made that possible. Not that she could find, anyway. Not from what she has tried, anyway. And she had tried. Maybe all three of the Moon Doctors together could do more than Lyanna alone, but she wasn’t sure even that would work. And part of her feared getting the girls hopes up just to fail. Because some things are only for the Gods to heal, and this strikes her as one of those things.

But it still doesn’t stop her heart from breaking. Because Lyanna cannot give the girl the answer she wants to hear, the answer she deserves to hear. All the things Lyanna wants to say would be lies, and no one deserves a lie. “Temporarily, yes. But not permanantly. But enough you will feel better now, and I can help you back to your mom.” She doesn’t wait for more permission than that though. Not with the girl already on the ground, her head barely moving, her breathing too shallow and Lyanna is sure, her heart barely pumping. It was too akin to the day she was born, when Lyanna had tried everything. The best she could offer was temporary help.

She calls on the Goddess’s power then, the familiar wind and dark mist rolling in over the girl. Easing her pain, helping her breathing, moving blood through her body to the places that need it most. She cannot fix the root of the problem, but she can give the girl strength and energy for the time being, at least a bit. Lyanna lets the power stay as long as she can hold it, feeling her own energy slipping away the longer she holds the magic there. Finally, before she tires herself out so much she cannot help Safiri back to her mother, Lyanna lets the mist go.

“Do you feel better?” she asks, giving the girl time and space to test how she feels, ready to pull the magic back if she needs to. Her own energy would return, and she could always find some more help returning the princess to Rexanna. After a moment, she adds, “You are turning into a beautiful young lady. I was there when you were born, though I’m sure you don’t remember.” But of course, Lyanna remembers her. Cannot forget the princesses face, or the ailment that plagues her.

She wants to give the girl a different answer. All her heart yearns to take the girls sickness and make it her own, to take those struggles upon herself, to give Safiri the opportunity to be a child. The princess should get to run and play and frolic, get a little bit lost in the forests of the Edge, explore the cliffs from a safe distance. She should get hurt as Gawen had gotten hurt, the kind of hurts that every child gets, scrapes and bruises and fixable injuries. Not this. Not this tiny heart that cannot sustain the girl even enough to walk a distance. Not this. The world is a cruel, unfair place. Lyanna knows it well, her whole life ripped from her in the blink of an eye. But that, in comparison, seems an easier thing to live with. Because at least, she gets to live.

“Sometimes bad things happen, for no reason at all,” she says softly, wishes there were better answers. But Lyanna isn’t going to lie to the girl, to make up some pretty lie because someday Safiri will learn the truth anyway. And then it will only hurt that much more, then Lyanna won’t be a source of comfort or help but someone to steer clear of, and she doesn’t want that. She can’t fix it, but she can help make it better, if nothing else. “You are not being punished though. Don’t you ever think that.” It’s not her fault that her heart came out wrong. Sometimes, these things just happen. Sometimes, the Gods don’t care enough to intervene.

No, that’s not true. Bad things have to happen. Because if it didn’t rain, you wouldn’t appreciate the sun. If you didn’t know pain, you wouldn’t appreciate healing. These things teach you, help you grow, bring you to your path in life and closer to the Gods. But still, somedays it’s hard to remember that. Those who deserved to be punished rarely are in this life, while the good suffer and struggle. But she tries to remember it. “I imagine our Lady Moon can heal you, or any of the Gods.”

She says, calling on the magic that the Moon had given her, letting it do its work. She tries not to dwell on how unfair all this is, keeping a smile on her face for Safiri’s benefit. It wouldn’t do to have the girl see her sad as well. There’s was already enough worry and sorrow in this world, she wasn’t hardly one to add to it. When the mists recede, and the conversation shifts a bit to her birth, Lyanna can’t help but laugh at how polite the girl is. It’s not a cruel laugh, but something pleasant and pleased.

“No, I don’t expect you would remember. You were just as pretty then, albeit a little smaller.” She’d been brought into the world right as Kaos revealed himself. Hardly a good welcome to the world. Lyanna had just happened to be in the right place then, returning bones to the hidden God when Mbwene had come trumpeting for help. She’d done what she could for Safiri and Rexanna, and then rushed off to help heal those on the battlefield.

There had already been deaths, and Kaos was still here. Lyanna tried not to think about what was to come. “Can I escort you back to your mom?” she asks, figuring they can have a nice chat as they walk slow and steady, enjoying the day but making sure Safiri gets home safe and sound.