Reckle had been the best hope to get the others freed when they had been captured by the man with the magic jars. His exhaustive efforts only in the end landed him a jar of his own and all he had earned was an extension to Flynnarill's life, of whom his love was undying.

How much longer did they have? From inside the glass he hoped those who had not been caught could whisk away Akandoroh or the sheep boy; Pengo, left only to curse himself whenever he found himself looking around for just one last chance at freedom.

The time for his thoughts had quickly come to an end, however. Reckle was a curiosity and would fetch a high price. The Collector worked quickly to fill his jar with the soporific blue liquid. Given one last moment, he flung himself the glass, all to get one last look at her. If he must die now, he would not hide his love for the elf that had chosen the Centaur over him.

His eyes had to shut from the presence of the liquid, and soon remained that way from it's effects leaving him to float there, limp and lifeless.