Jere
Legacy Name: Jere

Jere is sleeping when you find him, but senses you as soon as you enter his presence.
His vibrant copper eyes blink open.
“My my, what have we here? A sage of Folaigh? To what do I owe the honor?”
You are unsure of what to say to the creature, and you begin to stare at him, thinking only of the violent things Laoise has told you.
“Mmm, dear,” a smile crawls across the face of the coyote, “I won’t hurt you. I won’t even touch you if you’d prefer. I have learned my lesson. I don’t want to upset Folaigh.”
Jere stays where you found him and his eyes soften. Slightly comforted by this, you speak;
“I am learning the lore of Folaigh. I would like more information about the war, from your perspective.”
“From my perspective?” His eyes widen, surprised. A small but genuine smile replaces the coy and guarded one. “Well you are something. I’m sure Folaigh doesn’t know her luck. But yet, she never truly has…

Where should I begin? You see, a war is never only a war, soft child. To understand the war, you must understand cause and effect. Perhaps you must understand me...

No one tells you about the good which resides within the evil, do they?
No one tells you of their innocence and how they lost it.
Believe it or not, my darling little sage, I was innocent at one time -- and so was my sweet mother, but he stripped us both of that.
My mother was a simple desert coyote; a beautiful cactus flower. My father, the last dragon - an ancient evil, they called him. He planted his corrupted seed inside of her and she gave birth to me.
They say I was doomed to be wicked. I was to be a new wave of evil that washed over a glowing kingdom.
I could have been so much worse, don’t you think, with all this evil blood inside me?
My father killed my mother the day I no longer fed from her.
That it is where it began, as they say.
You see, ancients grow up quickly and die slowly, or sometimes not at all.
I was grown after that. I grew up in the image of my mother being murdered.
How would you heal an image like that, sage?

I chose to heal it with Karis, and she is why you’re here.

Karis was so…unreasonably beautiful. Her skin was the moon and her hair was the sun. She’s all I wanted, you see. And I am powerful. Did they tell you how powerful I am? So I chose her to be mine but Folaigh kept her from me. Folaigh, I can only imagine, was jealous of the bond between Karis and I, that she denied Karis of my company. I couldn’t allow that, though - I am so powerful yet Folaigh wanted to test me? So I swallowed Karis within my spirit and took her to my realm for us to be together. So was so skittish, like an endearing, timid mouse. She hid from me at first, then she became hungry so I fed her and she did not speak. But I loved the way her mouth moved.

It took Folaigh entirely too long to realize where Karis had disappeared to. As I said, she did not understand how lucky she was to have Karis. She took her darling sage for granted. Days later, she realized that I had taken her, and declared war upon me. Apparently, taking a sage is an act of war, which I suppose I knew, but I didn’t see it as such. I was saving Karis from her servitude to an ungrateful ancient. So we met in the glade and we engaged in war. I had my soldiers, she her sages.

Could you defend an ancient who takes you to war
Only for selfish gains? Out of jealousy? To stop...love?

At the end of it all, just a single soldier of mine was left; the last sage of Folaigh had abandoned her. Jere chuckles under his breath. My soldier, out of sages to slay, returned to where I was protecting Karis. There he killed her, betraying me. I immediately knew of the damage done and raced towards Karis’ lifeless body. Folaigh did not even sense the death of her own sage, proving even more that Karis should have been mine. Now she could never be. I avenged my dear Karis and took the life straight from the blood of the soldier and decorated the glade with his entrails.

The loss had tired me. The war had nearly destroyed Folaigh. The poor, beautiful rabbit’s body was covered in blood. It was romantic in a way.

We agreed to part ways. I suppose we have a treaty now. She has forgiven me, I believe, and I have forgiven her. You know I admire your ancient. She is something all her own. Of course, she could be better, but still she is a good heart - that much I have seen. "