NAN CALENDULA MOODBOARD: How many soldiers had she seen die, even during her short service? How many elves had she only needed to look at to know they weren’t long for this world? Worse, in some ways, were the ones she could only partially heal, the ones with life-changing injuries and lost limbs. As a healer, nothing pained her more than not being able to heal, and only being able to offer some comfort, or partially fix their bodies. They had all been fighting in an inherited battle, most of them too young to know for certain what had caused the war three centuries ago. And Nan had only served for under a year, but she’d seen enough pointless suffering to know that there wasn’t any beauty in war.











