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There was a certain tier to where Larien's loyalties lay. First were the Gil'daes, her family. They were the most important in her mind. Next was Syl'rosya, but more specifically the Tawnleaf where they resided. It had become her home and she would defend it fiercely should the need ever arise. After that was Natura, her birth place and one of her favorite locations to vacation. Sometimes still, the young elven woman considered herself a Naturan. Lastly was the Empire. She had no great love for it either, indeed she had never even met the Regent, but in the same breath, she did not loathe it. She had no reason to loathe it. True, many of her kind looked to the past and sneered at what had happened to them. The 11th Legion probably still would be lurking around had her cousin Motito not had it relocated to Imperia.
But Larien was still very young for her kind and she had been raised away from Syl, instead being brought up as a simple country girl of Natura whose only concern had been making enough crowns to scrape out a decent living. Those past offenses had not been done to her specifically and she did not know of any of her ancestors that had suffered pain or death at the hands of the Empire (though she was sure they were there, somewhere in her family tree). She would look at the present and to the future, but not the past. She wouldn't dwell on the past.
Larien had been to Paxia. She had seen the devastation there... buildings torn asunder, rubble lining the streets, rows and rows of tents where refugees were living while the town was being rebuilt. Those innocent people had been treated abhorrently at the hands of the orcs. If those vile creatures were even considering a repeat performance... Larien would be there. She would not stand by and let those who had done nothing watch their loved ones die and their homes burn. Her conscience wouldn't let her. Her hatred of the orcs wouldn't either.
"I have faith in you," the elven maiden murmured in response to her cousin's words. She trusted Cala's judgement... but a shadow crossed Larien's spirit as she considered the possibility of Syl'rosya being threatened. What if the orcs did move that far north? The young woman would die before she saw her beloved forest swarming with those of that despicable race. True, Larien did still miss her cousin Motito terribly, and she had thought him to be an excellent Heru of their House... but Calairiel was a worthy enough replacement. She did not think her cousin would lead them astray. "No harm will come to these trees and these people while breath still passes through my lungs and blood through my veins," Larien declared passionately, her hands tightening into fists for a few brief moments as her pale green eyes flashed with her emotion. "We will find out what it is they are up to... and crush it immediately."
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