He found her in the herb garden outside, kneeling in the dirt and finishing up a patchwork repair job. She was ready for the journey, armored in an elegant set of shining silver elven chain over a clean white linen top and leggings. Her knee-high grey leather boots were well-worn, pliable but sturdy, buckled at the ankle. She'd picked them from the corpse of a goblin trader back in that ruined temple of Selune. She vividly remembered snickering at the defaced imagery of the goddess everywhere. She'd done a lot of growing up since then, wearing these boots all the while. She often wondered who had owned them before the goblins looted them.

"One of those fools trampled through here in the fight," she said softly. "I'd ask Scratch to look after it, but he'd need thumbs for that." She sighed, adding a quite "what does it matter" under her breath.

She stood, forcing a little smile for Nuvyen as she took up her pack and her spear. Her long white hair was secured in her usual long braided ponytail, coiling and wrapped in a thin chain to the middle of her back. She wore a circlet around the crown of her head, thin chain as well, a moonstone now resting where once there had been obsidian above her brow. It was not a subtle look, but it was certainly a striking one. The Sharrans would not mistake her for anyone else.

[i]Let them come.[/i]

"Ready? It's a long walk, but we should be able to get there before dusk."

----

On the road again, a familiar and uncomfortable anxiety clawed its way back into the pit of Shadowheart's stomach, steadily tying knots. There was a heaviness on her shoulders, one she was sure she wasn't concealing from Nuvyen, despite her best efforts. She felt such a fool for actually starting to believe she might be free of her past.

"I'm not sure if we can go back," she said, after a long period of silence on the road. "Even if we wipe out this Sharran lair completely, they'll likely have sent word to others before we arrive. We'll be looking over our shoulders the rest of our lives, sleeping with one eye open..." She certainly didn't get as much sleep last night as usual, rising from their bed early so as not to disturb Nuvyen.

Viconia was gone, but the Nightsinger had other servants, more loyal and devoted ones, too. If they were organizing again on a larger scale, there had to be someone pulling the strings. Maybe if they could find and destroy that person, they could try to live in peace again. Until then, they had to walk a path of darkness.

"I'm starting to think we're just not meant for a quiet, peaceful life. But hopefully I'll be proven wrong."