36 Ruhn, 2418; December 25, 1514. 65 days before the massacre.
“Haropikuen? Your midmorning appointment has arrived.”
The Master of the Artisan’s Guild nodded to herself, easing to her feet. “Send her in.”
The stepdisk at the center of the office blinked. Stepping down from the platform, a robed and hooded vixen padded across the room with a delicate smile. Joy danced in her teal eyes as the two shared a friendly embrace.