Chapter 10: Into the Past

The wolf was restless. It sat on its haunches, then stood and paced, darted here and there in the snow, then stood still once more, quivering from snout to tail. All the while, the man and the woman slept.

Llovesi and Julan, Korst thought, keeping the foreign yet familiar names fresh in his mind. But the wolf did not know names. All it knew was that the man and woman were safe. Dangerous yes, but safe enough.

Korst would not have made the wolf stay by their side if the creature found it uncomfortable. But it was neither fear nor discomfort he felt in this familiar's mind. It was the rush of excitement. Through the wolf's eyes he studied the trees, the land, the stars. They had come past Thirsk now, far south enough for the lands to be safe. With one last fleeting glance at the sleeping couple, he let go slightly, and let the wolf run.

And suddenly he was sprinting faster than ever before, riding in the wolf's mind like a single snowflake carried through a blizzard. He tried to grasp the storm, tried to slow down, or shake himself loose, but they were caught up together. And part of him, that ancient part passed from life to life by the All-Maker, did not want to let go. It was exhilarating.

The wolf was hungry for the hunt. He tried to soothe and calm, but even that part of rationality was ebbing and fraying away and soon he found himself want to pant and sprint and chase and win.

Heavy paws darted as light as anything through the snow and though a chorus of howls rose in the distance, more than they had ever heard, they hunted silently.

Gone was the peaceful balance of the All-Maker, where all living things would live on in new life, and so life flowed into life and into life again, like a river running back to the sea. The land had shifted to a new order, the hierarchy of the Hunt. Predator, prey - that was all that mattered, all that existed.

They were a confident predator, slipping through the forest like smoke. They weren't even certain of the prey yet; only that it was here, in the forest, running to be chased down.

And yet... Suddenly, the wolf stopped. Newly uncertain breath crystallised around its snout and Korst felt himself jolt out of its mind a little, unravelling and separating back into two distinct beings. The wolf looked around. This grove was unfamiliar. Dark shadows flitted from tree to tree. The other wolves had long gone silent.

The wolf's fur stuck straight out from its body. It was so used to being the predator. But what if, this time, it was the prey?

One shadow in particular grew taller and taller, moving away from the nearest tree. The wolf had the dimmest impression of height, and horns, and then Korst pushed firmly in its mind. Run.

Then they were flying faster than ever, only adrenaline and fear and blood pumping round their body. Then Korst was flying away, further and further, separated entirely. The world went dark and then he was gasping back in his own body, in the warmth and safety of his hut, as if he had just sprinted back into the village.

This time he did not stand, could not stand. He sat, breathing hard as his pulse returned to something approaching normal. And he focused, hard, on the one fact becoming ever clearer.

We don't have much time.

When Llovesi and Julan woke with the pale dawn, they found that Korst had left them in the night. The woods felt a little lonelier without their silent companion, but they were past Thirsk now, and only a day's hike from Raven Rock.

They had decided to head there first, to check in on Falco and the others, rather than going back to the fort empty-handed. They stood stiffly, strapping their weapons and armour back on with numb fingers and draping themselves in fur again, too tired and cold for conversation. The journey south was no less cautious than before, but faster now that they knew the way. The next day, following another brief and frozen sleep, they arrived at the colony.

The first thing they noticed was the wall. Finished now, its bulk towered above them. It was almost hard to believe they had been overseeing its construction just a few days ago. Were it not for the sharply-cut newness of the large stone slabs it would have been easy to believe it had always been there, part of the land, as dark as the rock that gave the colony its name.

"Stop right there, travellers!"

Llovesi and Julan froze on their path towards the wooden gate. The shout had come from above, and Llovesi looked up to the watchtower by the gate to see a helmeted Imperial glaring down at them. She didn't recognise him.

"We're here to see Falco!" she called back.

"I'll be the judge of that!" the man yelled down again, his breath puffing angrily into the wind. "You've come from the north!"

It wasn't a question, perhaps mainly because it was obvious.

"Falco sent us to find help!" Julan shouted up, before muttering less politely under his breath, squaring his shoulders against the biting wind.

"Really? So why are you here empty handed?" The man turned away, tossing a dismissive comment back over his shoulder: "We've already come from the fort. We don't need you. Go back north, Elves." Soon they could see only the very top of his dented helm, then nothing, as he disappeared, ending their short exchange.

Anger bloomed in Llovesi like fire. She was too stiff, too cold, too scared, and too embarrassed following the events with the Skaal to be refused again. She lifted her fist and brought it as hard as she could against the wooden gate.

"Let us in!" she yelled. "Let! Us! In!" Each word was punctuated with a punch.

She felt Julan lay a hand on her back, but before he could open his mouth to speak the gate was falling away beneath her fist to reveal a whole group of angry-looking guards. All of them had shields raised and swords drawn, and their leader, the angriest of all, was the one who had shouted down to them from the watchtower.

He spoke now, through gritted teeth: "This is your final warning, Elves. Go back to where you came from, or I authorise my men to use force."

Looking at the men, it seemed to be the last thing any of them wanted. Beneath the veneer of anger most of them seemed nervous. Swords were shaking in hands and eyes darted quickly beneath furrowed brows. They stood there in a strange kind of deadlock. Both Llovesi's hands hovered near the swords at her hips, but she didn't move just yet. This couldn't be worth it, could it? She felt Julan subtly shift stance beside her, but didn't dare turn to him just yet. Instead she scanned the faces in front of them. Most were now looking to their leader for guidance on what to do next, though a few she caught staring at her in puzzlement. It felt like hours had passed instead of minutes.

"I'm going to count to three, Elves," the angry guard said finally, clearly frustrated that they hadn't already backed down. "One... Two..."

"Wait!" One of the puzzled guards near the back shouted out, embarrassed. "Hang on boss, that is those Dark Elves what are working with Falco!"

And just like that, the tension slowly fizzled out, until they were all reduced to looking at each other awkwardly. The lead guard sighed slowly in annoyance, lowering his sword, though not completely.

"Fine," he said. "So someone better go and talk to Falco then!"

So it happened that barely ten minutes later, Llovesi and Julan were hunched over by the crackling fire in the tavern, while Falco spoke to them apologetically.

"I lacked the foresight to give the new guards your description. I'm glad you've returned. Given what we've learnt since you left, I can't say I'm entirely comfortable having all these guards from Frostmoth here. But it's not as if I can send them back either. We need them, yet I feel completely at their mercy."

He was pacing back and forth in front of the hearth in front of them, while the rest of the tavern formed a pleasant amber buzz behind. Up until that point, Llovesi had been staring solely at her hands, and at Falco's feet when they came into view. Now, her head jerked up.

"Why?" she asked. "What's happened?"

Falco was chewing his cheek slightly, his brow knotted. Then he stuffed his hand in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of stained and tattered parchment that had been neatly folded in four, and held it out.

"I want you to see for yourselves first, before I say anything more. Here."

Llovesi rubbed her hands, and drew them reluctantly away from the flames. She took the parchment. As she'd half-suspected, the stains were blood.

Unfolding it carefully, and holding it between her and Julan, she read silently:

Land somewhere NE of the colony. Remember to act as Skaal warriors as discussed.

Kill every living thing in the colony. Make the Dark Elves Llovesi and Julan Kaushibael, and the Imperial Falco Galenus, your priorities (they can be identified based on descriptions previously provided).

Be sure to leave behind some armour and weapons; there needs to be evidence readily available, should the Empire choose to investigate.

Payment will be delivered at the designated meeting point once proof of the task's completion is presented.

C

"Carnius," Llovesi and Julan whispered at the same time, reaching the end of the note. For her part, Llovesi was barely surprised, especially following their meeting with Tharsten Heart-Fang and Korst Wind-Eye, and she cringed when she remembered how she'd first approached the Skaal, certain of their hand in the attack. Yet it still seemed... extreme. And what about the fort?

Before she could speak however, Falco had started talking, nodding grimly.

"Yes, Carnius," he said. "I would have recognised his handwriting even without the signature. We found this note on one of the bodies. Certainly he never intended it to be seen by anyone but the mercenaries, or he would not have been so brazen in putting his name to it. He has underestimated you."

He leant back, silhouetted by the flames, and there was a certain tone of finality in his voice. "We've been had, of course. This wasn't really a Skaal attack - it was mercenaries dressed up like them to fool us. If they'd succeeded, the whole thing would've been blamed on the wrong people. And a whole lot more innocent people would be dead. We cannot continue like this, all these distractions, Nords hired to mess us about, 'accidents' - and now explicit attacks. It is clear that Carnius will stop at nothing. And now these soldiers from the fort here... stupid, stupid. So he has to be stopped."

Llovesi and Julan looked at each other. Falco didn't even have to ask for them to know what he meant. Llovesi thought back to the bodies on the ground, the miners lying on the frigid dirt, and remembered her flames swirling through the air in response. Her fist closed around the note, and she glanced at Julan, who nodded.

"Alright," she said, in a hollow voice, and stood to go. Then she remembered, and turned back.

"The fort was attacked too," she said. "This doesn't explain the fort."

Falco looked momentarily uncomfortable. "I had heard. And while I wouldn't put it past Carnius to engineer some disruption there to cover his tracks, I'm not sure he'd put his own life in danger." His troubled look grew greater. "I don't know about the fort. But this attack, that note... it's certain, and it's Carnius. Will you confront him?"

"We will," Julan said, standing and moving to Llovesi's side. "And the next time you see us, this will all be over."

They had to hike back through the snow to the fort, of course, and that gave Llovesi a day to think.

She didn't know why she cared about this, but she did. Surely it should all seem so petty in comparison to everything else: blind and cruel Imperial greed. Yet still, she felt the anger and hurt in her heart, and still she believed that confronting Carnius was important. Her mind turned back north, to the shaman and chieftain, but they seemed so distant at the moment. She knew they would return there; in fact they would probably start the trip tomorrow. The shaman's words seemed to echo in her mind: We will need you. And he will test you. I have a plan, but it will take time. You will have to trust me.

But echo was all the words could do. Sure enough there was something deeper on this island. There always was. But the fort was rising stronger in her mind now, and then there it was, clinging proud and ruined to the land before them.

No one stopped them as they walked through the shattered gate, and no one called out to them as they made their way over to the Imperial Shrine. The few legionnaires that remained were either glumly clearing rubble, or watching over those performing that task. What else was there to guard? Their captain's gone, and half of them have been moved over to Raven Rock, Llovesi thought as they passed the men in silence. The colony isn't the only place under threat here.

But no one recognised them at all, until they met Constans in the plush hallway outside Carnius's door.

"What do you two want?" he asked, with disdain dripping from every syllable.

"We're here to speak with Carnius," Julan replied, as the clerk moved to block their way, crossing his arms over his silk-clad chest.

"I'm afraid he's not in right now," the clerk said. "Something about visiting prospective sites for expansion... I'm sure if you return later..."

Behind the wooden door, they all heard the distinct sound of a bottle being uncorked and its contents poured.

Constans followed the direction of Llovesi's and Julan's gaze.

"I said..." he began, taking a step back as they took a step forwards.

"Let them in, Constans."

Carnius's voice came from behind the door, slightly slurred, followed by the sound of glass chinking.

Constans shrugged in defeat, and slinked out of their way. Before they could look twice, he had marched off towards the stairs and disappeared from view.

"He's probably gone to find a guard," Julan said. "Best get this over with."

They found Carnius sat at his desk, reeking of flin. His clothes were slightly crumpled, as if he'd slept in them, and his normally neat beard had grown a little wiry. But apart from that, he seemed to be the same self-assured and quietly arrogant man as before, watching them coolly as he swirled the liquor round his glass.

Llovesi felt slightly embarrassed. This wasn't what she'd expected. Fortunately, Carnius spoke first.

"So," he said, after taking a long sip of flin and refilling his glass. "I must say it is a surprise to see you both here. You weren't supposed to survive the Skaal attack."

"That was no Skaal attack!" Julan said hotly.

"Oh, of course," Carnius slurred, and Llovesi felt her skin crawl at his tone of voice. "And I bet you think you're so clever for working it out? I knew you would come here as soon as I heard of the men's failure. And now what? You've come to kill me?"

Llovesi felt wrong-footed for a moment, and glanced at Julan. Had they? She realised she hadn't really put much thought into what 'confronting' Carnius would involve. But that was a lie... wasn't it? These things always ended one way. And she thought about how Falco had asked it, without really asking.

She realised that Carnius had been studying her face carefully, his eyes more focused than they had been a couple of seconds ago. He averted them quickly, but his tone remained condescending.

"Oh, come now," he said. "Everyone knows how the Nerevarine deals with problems. I know what I am. Surely you two know what you are by now?"

He got unsteadily to his feet, sloshing the flin in his glass.

"We know what you are," Julan responded coldly. "We've come to stop you before you can cause any more damage. Those soldiers that have gone to the colony-"

Carnius cut across him with an irritable wave of the hand.

"If you're worried about them, don't be," he said. "Those men could not be bought. All they wanted was to leave this damn island, and even I could not guarantee them that. Frankly, I don't blame them."

He turned his back to them, seemingly examining the Stalhrim mace hung above his desk.

"So, here we are. The colony is going to succeed you know? The investors have heard about Falco's little discovery, and are tripping over each other to throw their money at the project. And it should have failed. It should have failed!"

He slammed his fist into the desk suddenly, upsetting several flin bottles.

"They should all be dead! And it would have all fallen to bits, the investors would have pulled out, and the insurance money would have given me enough to go in and pick through the valuable pieces!"

He was fully ranting now, a little bubble of spit forming in the corner of his mouth as he turned back towards them.

"Everything I've spent, all that effort. I'm ruined! And for what? If I want to see even a septim of the profits I have to stay here. Here! On this island, in this ruined fort, with snow, rapists and criminals and now beasts! I hate this island, I hate it!"

He fixed them suddenly with a mean glare, and Llovesi felt ice slip down her spine. She moved her hands slowly to her twin blades.

"You've ruined everything," he whispered. "Do you realise? All the work, all the money... all of it gone, wasted, and it's all your fault! Why am I telling you all this? Well, I'm drunk for one thing. And of course, you won't be leaving here alive. I thought you might have some talent, Llovesi, but it seems your only skill is in self-destruction!"

And then he lunged at her with the mace, faster than any drunk man had the right to be. As the spikes thudded dully into her cuirass, Llovesi realised that he wasn't drunk, not at all, and it was all just one last trick, one last desperate ruse. And then her cheek was grazing the stone floor while lights popped in her vision.

She rolled, just in time to see the mace thud down in front of her face, cracking the parquet. But in his hatred for her, in his determination to see her die, Carnius had forgotten about Julan. And now Julan rose up behind him, furious, and brought his sword to Carnius's throat.

Carnius caught it, his eyes popping in surprise. Together the two men struggled, blood seeping around the blade and through Carnius's fingers. His muscles bulged beneath his silk shirt, and a vein was popping Julan's forehead, but the sword did not move, hovering a hair's breadth from Carnius's neck.

Llovesi watched them both in mute horror as they grunted and struggled, knowing she had to do something, anything, but how could she, without risking hurting Julan?

Clutching her winded stomach, she threw herself after Carnius's dropped mace, and swung it at his legs with one arm, cracking his shins.

Carnius fell, and Julan's sword cut his throat with a gasp. Carnius looked at Llovesi, eyes widening for one final surprised look, true, unfeigned surprise, and he opened his mouth as if to speak. Blood bubbled forth instead, and then he fell face forward to land by her side.

Panting hard with pain and exertion, Llovesi and Julan didn't hear the steps outside until the office door was flung open, and the tall Imperial soldier who'd asked them to go north was looking down at them, Constans trying in vain to peer over her shoulder.

"By the Nine Bloody Divines," the woman yelled, her eyes boggling at the scene before her. "What've you done!?"

"He attacked us," Llovesi said weakly from the ground, struggling to her feet with one arm clutching her stomach. "He was drunk and he attacked us." With any luck, Carnius's final ruse might just work in their favour. With her other hand she fumbled for the note Falco had given them.

Constans's eyes darted from them, to Carnius, to the bloody sword in Julan's hand, and seemed to decide in favour of self-preservation.

"The Factor had been drinking," he mumbled finally. "He took news of the recent attacks very hard."

"I'll say!" the woman said, wrinkling her nose. "What a Divines-damned mess. First the Cap'n, now this... and what are you two doing back here anyway? You're those Elves I asked to head north!"

"We're going back that way," Julan said quickly. "We'd been asked to visit the Factor by the colony Deputy first, and then..." He wiped his sword and sheathed it by way of conclusion.

"Good," the Imperial said with satisfaction. "Now those Nords may say they don't know nothing, but I don't believe that they don't know nothing! Get in good with them. Find our Cap'n! I'll deal with... this."

Llovesi limped up to her, and handed her the note. "We'll go," she said. "This should help you take care of things here."

Then she and Julan left the office as the Imperial read Carnius's last orders, her eyes widening further with one final shock.

"Are you alright?" Julan asked, as they left the fort. "You should let me look at that, check you haven't broken anything."

They stopped, and Llovesi let him unlace her cuirass gently, wincing at the pain.

"Two broken ribs, one fractured, and bad bruising of the spleen, with potential to rupture. You should heal her quickly," someone said behind them.

"Gah!" Julan near jumped a foot in the air as he started pushing the healing sparks into Llovesi's midriff.

Geilir the Mumbling was leaning against a tree, watching them intently.

"You!" Llovesi growled, almost incoherently. She rolled her shirt down, and before anyone else could move she'd strode over to Geilir and lifted him by the throat. "You played us for fools!"

Geilir's eyes bulged, and he coughed, trying to speak.

"You distracted us! Sent us after your damned skull so we'd be away from the colony when the attack came!"

"I... did... not..."

"Llovesi!" Julan yelled, and she realised what she was doing.

She released her grip, and the old man collapsed at her feet. Julan ran over, but Geilir was up in a flash, gripping Llovesi round the arm as tightly as she had held him.

"I did not," he repeated calmly, though he didn't let go. "I had nothing to do with that attack, and by the time I did, it was almost too late. That is why I warned you the way I did, to get you to return as quickly as possible. Should I have simply told you?" He shrugged. "You wouldn't have believed me."

Through her cloud of confusion and anger, Llovesi realised this was probably true.

"So why?" she asked. "Why us? You're clearly strong enough to have got the skull back by yourself."

"Me?" Geilir said, dropping her arm. "I'm just a feeble old man. I did it so that you might realise who I was, and what I can do for you."

Llovesi felt her heart near stop with fear.

"A-Azura?" she stuttered.

"No," Geilir snapped, his eyes harder suddenly. "Don't be stupid. I don't like it when people are stupid; it makes everything much slower. I am a seer, and now you know, a true seer. Follow me."

He beckoned them into the woods, hunched over and frail once more.

Llovesi glanced at Julan, whose mouth was hanging open. Against both their better wills, they followed Geilir between the trees.

They walked for hours, and the old man showed no sign of tiring. He led them north, through vaguely familiar landscape, and then they were walking up a small hill and looking down into the clearing of Brodir Grove and the four standing stones.

Geilir walked to the centre of the stones, and here he stopped, looking up and each carved surface in turn.

"Do you know who they were?" he asked, as Llovesi and Julan caught up to him. "But no, how could you? No one is left to sing their story. They were questing Nord adventures, searching for a place known as Sovngarde. Unfortunately, they were betrayed by a sorcerer in their group, and turned to stone."

He paced between the stones as he spoke.

"They came here in search of an old story, and now their tale has ended. But elsewhere tales are awakening."

Geilir stopped in front of the largest stone, the one Llovesi had thought of as the peaceful man.

"This one knew his fate, and accepted it when the time came, for he realised it was the only way. Will you do the same, I wonder?"

He looked at them for a long time, not speaking.

"You said tales were awakening?" Julan prompted finally, his arms crossed impatiently. Llovesi sensed what he really wanted to ask was: what in Oblivion are you going on about? but he seemed to be trying the seer's game, whatever it was.

"Good, I'm glad you were listening," Geilir said, as if stirred from reverie. "Yes. I know the beasts that attacked the fort, and you will not find them hiding amongst the Skaal. But my ancestors were of the Skaal, so I know the legends. Legends that are coming to life. But, you knew that there was more to this island than colonial squabbles. And it involves you."

He sat, at the foot of the largest stone, and beckoned again for them to join him.

"I have something to show you, Llovesi. Just Llovesi - I am sorry, Julan - for it is from her past, so I cannot take you there."

"My past?" Llovesi asked. "What has my past got to do with anything?"

"Everything. You are so concerned with your past, your future, that you neglect the present. There is a path, and I am your guide. Be in the here and now. Listen to the land."

Llovesi tried, closing her eye and attempting to drown out the beating of her heart. But she felt so foolish, after everything that had happened, to be sitting here in the forest, with this man whom they couldn't trust, listening for... what?

"I can't hear anything," she said finally, frowning.

"Exactly," Geilir whispered, leaning in. "Where have all the sounds of the forest gone, Llovesi? Where are the creatures? Where is the wind? Why can't you hear the river trickling past? The sun is setting now, so why is it still so pale? What has happened to the land?"

He took her hands in his and everything went dark.

Then, incredibly, she could see the cobbled streets of the Imperial City. It was as if they were flying over the Temple District, zooming in on a house, on one house in particular.

Llovesi recognised it in an instinct, and her heart thudded painfully. How... she tried to ask. Why... but it all stuck in her throat.

Geilir was by her side, and he pointed wordlessly.

It had been a cold evening that night, so when the fireball engulfed the house before them, it brought more than flames and pain and death, it brought fierce heat to the District, and Llovesi could almost feel it again after all these years. Why? Why this? She'd made her peace with this time in her life. Yet somewhere, in that burning ruin, was a scared thirteen year-old who didn't quite yet realise what she'd done...

Llovesi started towards the house, but Geilir held her back, and then she was sitting across from him again in Brodir Grove, cold once more.

"I'm sorry," Geilir said. "But it was only a memory, and you cannot go somewhere that was not remembered."

"A memory?" Llovesi frowned. "Whose? I thought the streets were empty that night. I remember the Watch talking about how fortunate that was."

"They were empty, but for one man, who served as a witness for the Imperial City Watch, and then never crossed your path again. He does not know you, or who you became. But he was there."

"Watching over me?"

"Nothing so poetic. In a way... passing it on. That man, that night, had been a Hero himself. And his time was ending. Just as yours is. And maybe you will meet the next, maybe you will not. You will not know who they are, just as no one knew you until you took the name of Nerevarine."

So many thoughts rattled through Llovesi's head that she reeled from the effort of it all. She glanced at Julan, who was also frowning in confusion, yet staying quiet now.

She didn't know where to start.

"Next?" she decided on.

Geilir gripped her hands tightly in his own wrinkled ones, watching her intently. "Surely you realised it would end?" he asked. "Surely you did not think it would be forever?"

What did he mean? Llovesi's head hurt, yet she felt... relieved? Hopeful?

Geilir leant back in some satisfaction.

"Or so the Scrolls have foretold," he said.

"Can someone please explain what is going on?" Julan asked finally, frustrated.

"The Scrolls, the Scrolls," Geilir said impatiently, dropping Llovesi's hands. "The Elder Scrolls. Or prophecy. Such things they contain are Events, and they both are and are not. And they are linked to Heroes."

Llovesi's head hurt even more. "You have read these scrolls?" she asked.

"No, of course not. I still have my sight, do I not? Only a select few know how to read them, or have the ability, and I am not one of them. But I have been made aware of their existence, and that is enough."

"And they foretell what will happen?" Llovesi asked.

"If you like. The reality is far more complex."

"So all our - all my - choices really are just an illusion?"

Geilir gave her a hard look at that.

"Yes and no. But you know the answer to this; you do not need me to tell you. You have learnt by now. Yes, there is a path, no, there are choices. Yes, you may be a pawn, no, you are you. Do not lose your love."

"What?" This was one thing too far. Llovesi leant back on her hands, feeling the frigid ground. She felt as if she were losing grasp on reality. Why was she sitting here, entertaining this man's ramblings? It was like an audience with Vivec. So, why did she feel this was the most truth she'd heard in months?

"What do you mean?" she asked, despite herself.

Geilir smiled for the first time that evening. "Do not lose your love, Llovesi," he repeated. "You will know, sooner rather than later, what this means I am afraid. There, I think that's given you enough to be getting on with."

With that, he stood, bowed to them both, and left them in the grove as the sickly yellow rays of the sun finally fell beneath the treeline.

"I'm not sure I want to know what that was about," Julan said finally. "He's clearly found the good hackle-lo. Or he's completely insane, and he's trying to distract us." He held out a hand to Llovesi, helping her back onto her feet.

"Ye-es," Llovesi said, though she couldn't help thinking: insane in an utterly driven and determined kind of way.

"What did he show you, though?" Julan's voice was casual, but he couldn't entirely keep the fear out of it. Llovesi turned to keep, feeling a hopeless kind of love. Oh Julan, we've never been closer, or so far away.

"He showed me the night of the fire," she said. "You know, the fire. When I was younger."

"Ah." She could tell from his voice that he remembered. They hadn't talked about it much, but she had managed to make an impression when she'd first explained the scars on her torso. Of course she'd added to her collection of scars since that hushed tavern conversation. "It sounded a bit like a... pep talk to me, Llovesi. Like he's trying to gear you up for something."

"You think?" Llovesi shrugged. "I think maybe it was just a load of old nonsense." But she couldn't make herself believe the lie, and she doubted Julan was convinced either. But what did it all mean? Just more vague truths and destiny talk to add to the pile. Jumping from the standing stones, to local legend, to her past, and then to this idea of Heroes and Scrolls… she couldn't make any sense of it. And love. What did love have to do with any of it? Her love for Julan? Or something else?

"Let's forget about it," she managed, with some effort. "Rest up here, and start back to the Skaal tomorrow. There are more important things."

And yet, as she set about building a fire, she felt more than thought that her path had shifted once again. The feeling was almost imperceptible, but yet almost as large and powerful as the flames that had engulfed her once before on a cold night many years ago.

A/N: Eek, do I ever feel guilty about the long gap in updates here! Suffice to say that April-August saw me incredibly busy, and when I did have free time I tended to use it more for sleeping than writing! But I'm half way through a 2 week holiday (ah, the luxury...) so used it to finish this chapter I've been sitting on for the best part of 3 months. To those people I've promised reviews to, this means they are also coming soon! Now, see you all in another 3 months... kidding - I'll try to make the next update quicker!