Lukavai finished scribing the intricate circle in the center of the floor and stood, carefully inspecting the sigil for flaws that would compromise it's integrity. An imperfect circle would fail to properly channel the energies needed to reach the great metaphysical distance to the Elemental Courts. The court of Wood was one he had never contacted before, but he needed a spell that only they could grant. Healing was the providence of only Water and Wood, and as Water was now Anathema to him, he had no other choice.

Lukavai had had no contact with the Dryads, spiritual envoys of the court of Wood. The etiquette used in their machinations and intrigues was foreign to him, their ways strange. It had taken days of research to understand the intricacies needed to negotiate for the spells arcane formulae and strictures, and hopefully it would be enough. Dealing with the alien mindset of the Elementals was always... difficult.