Cloud was exhausted. 

Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. But as she made her way to the Undergrowth her tired eyes focused on the challenge before her. The moon above was shielded by large storm clouds blocking out what was supposed to be the start of the first blue moon in twenty years. The Solstice was about to begin. Whether she liked it or not.

"I see you've finally made it, Cloudless."

Dressed in Aviatus' altered Speedchaser gear the young sylph raised her chin up at the comment and pretended to ignore her competitors. One from each of the Four Sectors, two of which had no intentions of letting her win without a fight. At least the dryads were fair.

"It seems the heir to the Elfidari has gone deaf since her debacle in the Arbor. Perhaps the rumours are true about her being Breathless?" 

Cloud sighed, her mind too frazzled to give in to the rise. Preoccupying her tired mind she tightened the leaf spun straps on her shins and went through the last few hours in her head. Cloud hadn't won against Aviatus even once. But the information she had gathered had been valuable. 

"Evening, Astra. Lovely night for a swim I'm sure." 

The outspoken nymph smiled at the dryad, content to lounge in the sodden rain like it had been her will that had summoned it. Her scales glowed in the moonlight, shifting from bluish greens to silvery greys as her racing gear mirrored the nymphs' graceful movements.

"Always is, Fiord. I hope the Solstice fairs you just as well. Perhaps you should ally with me since this rain doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon?" Astra hinted suggestively, letting the stray drops fall into her palm.

The male dryad didn't seem to get the hint, calmly waiting near a large Ironwood tree. His hands brushed against the sodden bark, his chosen gear a mix of Thornguard and healer apprentice robes. Cloud couldn't help but notice how mismatched they were, as if he was caught on two seperate paths.

"I appreciate the thought but you and I both know the Undergrowth doesn't play favourites. Even if the weather has made it seem that way."

Astra sucked in a breath, the look in Fiord's eyes unnerving even her confident gaze. The dryads could be friendly at the best of times but the nature bound kin was not easily annoyed. 

Despite his earlier politeness, Fiord's eyes held the same dogged determination as the pyrith but his attention turned to Cloud and his harshness softened.

"Lady Elfari."

The dryad bowed, fighting back the traditional Thornguard salute for a short, formal greeting. Cloud hesitated for a fraction of a second, nodding respectfully despite her less traditional attire.

"Lord Dryadari. Good Laia to you."

Fiord's warm expression tightened a little, trying to hide his discomfort but the vines beneath his feet began to rapidly grow and twist nervously.

"Fiord is just fine, my Lady. It seems my family does not support my participance in this race between Advocates. They have… disowned me for my choices." Fiord said awkwardly, trying to ignore the anxious Folka in his voice.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Lord- I mean, Fiord. I didn't know, I-"

"Enough of the small talk, Cloudless, Lordless. It's starting."

Tirthia inclined her head bluntly at the scene before her, Fiord too embarrassed to speak as he turned away from the group. Cloud tried to give him a sympathetic smile but Astra nudged her from behind as the four Advocates stepped towards the growing crowd.

Tirithia led the group into the dappled light of the trees, the rain petering out just as the blue moon emerged with no cloud cover in sight. The night sky was cloudless once more. 

"May the clans of the Four Sectors unite under this night born of the Collective."

Cloud could feel the humming Folka of her Aunt Glorianna, burning and buzzing as her own caught in her chest with the other three acting leaders of the Elfidari. Tears pricked her eyes as her homeland spurred with life, Astra, Fiord and Tirithia joining in song with their brethren and letting their Folka free. But Cloud could not. Would not.

"Tonight, the night of the Solstice, we join our Folkas together in mourning, in might and in mercy as we celebrate the turning of the seasons. With the blue moon beside us we announce the coming of Bitrfall and the crowning of our next Elfidari."

The voices erupted in chorus, pyriths entered first into the clearing that had been wracked with sorrow mere decades ago and became a stage of scarlet flame. Tirithia stepped into the ring of stones at her feet, the long dried up waterfall a perfect stage for the race to come. The place where her brother now rested.

"From the first of the four Advocates, Lady Tirithia Rythpari: the Devil of the Skies!"

Under the red light Tirithia knelt under the stars, her own red and black racing gear melding into the shadows as the moonlight bathed her in an iridescent purple glow. 

Her wings lit up alongside her horns as she took to the skies, burning a trail of perfect cursive that only a skilled Speedchaser could provide.

Tirithia's Folka surrounded the crowd voraciously as two names lit up the midnight sky. Aura. Tyrion. Cloud's mother, the previous Elfidari and Tirthia's elder brother. The crowd hushed in response, enamoured by the display as Tirithia gently floated to the ground. Cloud could barely breathe, the overwhelming ability of her opponent and the small memoriam of her mother made things far harder than they needed to be.

"From the second of the four Advocates, the Brambled Warrior, Fiord Drydari!"

Cloud looked up as the purple red hue created by Folka darkened to a yellowish brown spotlight as the dryads entered the middle of the clearing. The Undergrowth teemed with life as all manner of moonlit fauna and flora were called by the nature inclined Folka.

Aviatus stood among them, no longer in his Grand Healer robes and instead opting for forest green robes. He kept to the sidelines of the large group, one eye on Fiord's disapproving family. The Speedcaster champion raised his Folka to the sky, embracing his split heritage in all his glory and stared at the budding Elfari. 

Fiord began his descent, swaying a little as his Folka dwindled to occasional notes and phrases sprouting buds as he landed. Giving a wary smile at his competitors only Cloud gave him any sign of encouragement flicking two fingers in a mock Thornguard salute akin to her Aunt Adrisa. 

"From the third of the four Advocates, Lady Astra Nymphari: the Siren of the Deep!"

The nymph threw a cocky smile in Cloud's direction, needing no light except the glow of the Solstice flitting against her wings. Her choice of racing gear consisted entirely of Folka, the Major chords rising and falling along with the healing scales of her clan. 

The nymphs emerged from a pool of fog, enveloping them in the same watery armour Astra now coveted in all of her glory. There Folkas rose alongside her sister, never overshadowing their chosen candidates performance until she pirouetted onto her own lit up plinth and took her place among the others.

"The last of our Advocates, the current Elfari of the sylph monarchy. My niece, Windstriker Cloudless!"

Cloud took a deep breath, her wings still aching from her late night training as her fellow sylph gathered to the right of her. The crowd hushed as the familiar sounds of a Galeforce Folka rose up from her kin and surrounded the clearing, the memory of the previous Elfidari still etched on the ground.

The young sylph heir took her cue from her rival, kneeling as she prayed to her ancestors, hoping the winds would be with her this time. The sylphs Folka stopped. The crowd hushed to hear the solo of the sylph, her fathers words clinging to her heart. She wasn't acting as a true Elfidari. So she wouldn't. She would fight.

Cloud took to the skies in solemn silence and refused to sing.