Her hair whipped behind her, still shimmering silver and long, what was left of it, anyway. Half of it had to be shaved off, so she could wrap the right half of her face, which was too grizzly to expose. The hair left on her scalp was thinning, no longer its former glory she took pride in.
Her left arm was naught but a stub, ending just a few inches below her shoulder. Her sword arm was on the same path, currently wrapped in soiled bandages to slow down the infection. Her once graceful saunter was now marred by a permanent limp.
Her body was decaying, and she was dying.
Flames crackeled behind her, the staunch scent of darkspawn and corpses permeating the air, not that she had the ability to smell anymore. Her longsword dragged behind her noisily. Slowly limping her way into the darkness, she clutched a small vial between her teeth. with only one hand, and it being occupied with a sword, she had to get creative. Her destination slowly came into view, blurred along with everything else her failing eye could see.
She recalled clearly the campsite, looming pillars, high structured stone walls, and a sense of depression and home weighing heavily in her conscience. Crossing the dilapidated bridge, she turned her head towards the ashy remains of the pyre. Tears fell from her eye at the memory of the contents of the ashes. After a salute to the pyre, she entered the ripped up tent towards the entrance to the forest. In it lay her best friend, once a glorious beast, he now lay still on his side. Dropping to her knees beside the now cold loyal beast, she gathered his hulking form into her arm against her chest and leant against the wooden chest nestled in the corner of the tent.
She tucked the precious vial into her shirt with a grim sense of bittersweet pride. She had found it. Ten long years of solitude and death had finally paid off. The numbness of death weighed her eyelid closed, and she welcomed the sweet embrace it offered. With her last breath, she whispered her lovers name, a smile on her lips.
