"My God!" a voice came through the black haze of her mind some time later. There was a loud clattering of metal against metal somewhere nearby. "C'mon, don't die, please don't die." The voice came again. This time it was accompanied by a bitter, rancid taste from a liquid that was being poured into her mouth. Sharmin let her mouth fall open weakly, unable to find the strength to swallow the awful-tasting liquid. There was a frustrated sigh, and then Sharmin felt what she dimly was aware of being another mouth, closing over hers. Her jaw was gently held open by a hand on her chin, and she once again tasted the bitter tasting liquid, this time being transferred by the person's mouth. Her chin held up by the hand, Sharmin had no choice but to reflexively swallow the liquid. The person then stood, and lifted her effortlessly, and she completely blacked out again as they began to move.

She did not know where she was taken, just that it was silent there save for an occasional creak of wood. Shivers and fever from the poison and wounds in her shoulders wracked her body, and she instinctively curled into a ball, trying to keep warm. The person, who was a man, said gentle words to her that she could not remember moments after they were uttered. She felt him remove her bodice and shorts, and she tried to command him to stop, but a groan came instead of words. A heavy blanket covered her moments after her shorts were removed, and she hugged herself underneath it. Her hair felt wet, and she wondered, somewhere in her mind, if she were sweating despite being cold.

More rancid tasting liquid was forced down her throat through that strange kiss, and she choked on it. "No more." She finally managed to say, and rolled onto her side.

"It's finally taking effect; you've regained the use of your tongue." The man said, chuckling. Sharmin rolled back slightly and attempted to look at her savior, but her eyelids were heavy, and she could only lift them enough to see a blurry outline in the gloom. His voice was comforting, though it made her homesick.

A bit later, Sharmin felt the blankets move away from her slightly, as the man climbed underneath them with her. She was still shivering from fever, and he wrapped his arms around her firmly (a memory sparked, didn't this happen before?) and held her close. She faded in and out of sleep, her dreams ridden with strange images and fast-moving scenes. Every time she awoke, sometimes sobbing from the frightful things she saw in the darkness of sleep, the man would murmur comforting things to her, and nuzzle the nape of her neck. Even though she knew, somewhere in her muddled mind, that she shouldn't allow a complete stranger to do as such to her, she found she didn't mind.

Her fever finally broke many hours later, and she felt the comforting warmth of the man move away from her. Sharmin reached out blindly, not wanting her newfound comfort to leave her. She was still unable to open her eyes more than a crack without them heavily shutting again.

"Shh…it's ok. I'll be back in a moment." The man said gently, kissing her forehead. "Sleep now." Sharmin let out a whining grunt, then instantly succumbed to sleep.

When she was finally able to open her eyes, she was greeted with a dark room. She could barely make out the figure of a man sitting over her in the gloom. Her eyes were still slightly unfocused from the poison, and she blinked hard trying to clear them.

"The blurred vision is normal. It'll leave once the poison is purged from you." The man said, taking her hand and squeezing it lightly. "It was a little scary there, I almost thought you wouldn't make it." He said, his voice giving away his relief. Sharmin blinked hard again and then squinted at him, trying to make out his face.

"Do I know you?" she asked. The man tensed for a moment, as if upset or surprised, it was hard to say which, before sighing and releasing her hand. He began to back away from her a bit, but Sharmin sat up and reached out, grabbing the sleeve of his tunic. "No, don't leave, I'm sorry!" she said desperately. "Please, stay with me. Please!" She knew she was delirious from the after effects of the poison and fever, but it didn't concern her. She managed to grab onto his tunic with both hands, and attempted to lie back down, pulling him with her.

"Sharmin..." the man said in a strained voice. He placed his hands on either side of her, resisting her gentle tugging. "Please…. Don't." he pleaded softly.

Perhaps it was complete delirium, or perhaps the man was really someone Sharmin cared for (how would he have known her name if he wasn't?), and wasn't aware of it in her delirious mind, but she found herself kissing the man. His resistance slowly faltered, and he lowered himself onto her, deepening the kiss. She clung to him desperately; afraid he would leave her if she didn't hold on as tightly as she could. What happened next must've been a dream, she later thought to herself. She must've dreamt that she laid in his arms the rest of the night, different from before, in a manner that lovers do. In her sleep that night, she dreamt of her time on the island, with Gatz. She dreamt of the good times they had together, and for the first time ever, she wept over his leaving. She felt a hand brush her cheek, wiping her tears away, and then deep sleep claimed her.

She awoke with a start, sitting up quickly. She looked at her surroundings with wide eyes, her vision clear. She was in a small bedroom, lying in a comfortable bed, covered with thick down blankets. She wore a long nightshirt, much like what she used to wear as a villager. Beside the bed was a table with a half-drank bottle of red healing potion. Remembering the wounds she'd received from the spider, Sharmin reached through the back collar of the nightshirt to feel her shoulders. The wounds were almost healed. She sat for a moment, staring at the pattern on the blanket, trying to recall all that had happened after the spider had stabbed her. It was fuzzy, but she remembered having an awful lot of strange dreams.

Sharmin emerged from the bedroom warily, one hand on the wall as her strength had not yet returned. Sitting at a small table with their back to her, looking out the window was a silver-haired elf wearing a blue shirt and skirt. Sharmin's eyes widened at her.

"Narlafayn?" she whispered. Narlafayn jumped and turned to look at her. Sharmin was shocked at the tired, defeated look on her face. Surely this wasn't the same elf that she had just seen, not yet a year ago? What had happened to her?

"Oh…I'm glad you're ok. You've been so dead asleep, I was worried you were in a coma or something." Narlafayn said, smiling weakly.

"Did you bring me here?" Sharmin asked, looking around her. The house was sparsely furnished, but Narlafayn had filled what seemed to be every dish she owned with flowers.

"In here, yes. I found you outside of my house two days ago." Narlafayn said, turning back to the window and gazing out it with her chin resting on her hand.

"My sister and Vuylay, have you seen them?" Sharmin suddenly asked, darting to Narlafayn's side and kneeling next to her. Narlafayn didn't respond, and only continued to look out the window. "Narlafayn!" Sharmin exclaimed, offended that she would ignore such an important question.

"No. There's just me and a couple of farmers out here, I haven't seen anyone but them, and you." She finally answered, not looking at her. Sharmin sunk to the floor as the realization that she'd been separated from her sister finally hit her.

"I have to go…I need to find Komugi." Sharmin mumbled, her eyes suddenly growing large.

"Your weapons and armor are in the broom closet." Narlafayn said airily. Sharmin darted to the closet and flung it open. Sure enough, her supply bag, armor, shield and sword were stacked neatly in there beside the yellow Mithril armor she'd last seen Narlafayn wear. She undressed right in the middle of the room and put on her bloodied bodice and shorts, followed by the red armor. She paused as she put her gloves on to look back at Narlafayn, who hadn't moved.

"Will you come with me?" Sharmin asked. Narlafayn responded with a short chuckle.

"Sorry, but no." she said blandly.

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Do you have to be so nosy?" Narlafayn shouted, bringing her hands down hard on the table as she turned to look at Sharmin. She sighed and turned back to her window. "Things have happened. I'm not who I was last time you saw me. It's better if I stay here." She muttered.

"Narlafayn…" Sharmin began, taking a concerned step towards her. Narlafayn stood, hitting the table as she went. A vase of flowers that had sat in the middle toppled at the movement, and water spilled on the table and over the side.

"You are welcome to stay here if you need to recover, but if you are fine, I want you to leave." She said in a tempered voice. When Sharmin didn't move, she clenched her fists on the table and shouted, "There's nothing for me out there anymore! Take what you need from here and go!" Sharmin pursed her lips for a moment, ready to argue back with Narlafayn, but when she saw blood slowly dripping from her hands at her tightly clenched fists, she left it be. As she'd commanded, Sharmin packed enough provisions from Narlafayn's storehouse to get her to the next town. She paused at the door before leaving, to glance back at the Elf. Narlafayn hadn't moved from her spot, and was staring hard at the tipped flowers. Sharmin cast her one last saddened glance before exiting the tiny house. Whatever it was that was hurting Narlafayn, Sharmin hoped it would be cured soon.

As she stepped out into the bright mid-morning light, a transparent, aggressive wind spirit almost immediately attacked her. Caught off guard, Sharmin managed to drop her bag and hit the spirit with her shield, stunning it. She then swung her sword out and through the spirit's midsection, the enchantments on it giving Sharmin the ability to cut the spirit in two. The spirit let out an echoing gasp as she dissolved. Sharmin blinked in confusion and took a good look at her surroundings. The house Narlafayn had taken up residence in was near the edge of a cliff that overlooked the ocean. All around her flew wind spirits of all shapes and sizes. Large spirits, bigger than an Orc, as tall as the house behind her, passed by her without giving her a second glance. Sharmin wandered around the side of the house, her sword still drawn, staring in wonder at the multitude of spirits.

"Where am I?" she wondered aloud. A smaller spirit turned to look at her and giggled, as if she understood what Sharmin had spoken.

"Windy Hill." A gruff voice came from behind her. Sharmin turned quickly to find a grizzled farmer watching her with a grin. He was leaning lazily on a pitchfork, a few wind spirits flying around him and pausing to nuzzle his aged face.

"Windy Hill?" Sharmin repeated, her jaw dropping. "How is that possible? That place was nearly two weeks worth of travel from the place where I fell!" She paused and quirked an eyebrow at the farmer as a wind spirit kissed him as she passed. "Doesn't that bother you?" she asked.

"Nah. These gals are really very friendly, unlike their sisters in the Elven Forest. Occasionally you'll get one that has a nasty attitude, like the one you disposed of outside of the house, but usually they all have a good temperament." He said, grinning widely. "Pretty affectionate, ain't they?" he laughed as one kissed Sharmin's cheek as she passed. Sharmin's eyes bugged out and she stiffened, feeling very uncomfortable. "As for how you got here, your guess is as good as mine." The farmer pushed himself up straight, pulling his pitchfork out of the ground and walking to the hay pile he'd been shoveling. "It might've been that young feller that I saw wandering around outside of Narly's house the night you appeared. Can't imagine him carrying you and all of that heavy armor for a week though, so who knows."

"Young man…?" Sharmin echoed, her eyes wide. Her face slowly began to turn red from the memories of what she thought were dreams.

"Yeah, attractive young feller wearing Brigandine armor like yourself. It was dark when I looked out and saw him wandering away from Narly's house, but he looked like he had blonde hair. Friend o'yers?" the farmer asked as he paused in his shoveling to look up at her.

"I…. I don't know." Sharmin replied, staring into nothing. There was only one blonde young man she knew wearing red and blue brigandine armor, and her heart pounded at the thought that it could be him. She left Windy Hill after asking the man to keep a watchful eye out for Vuylay and her sister. She also requested that he look after Narlafayn, a task that he then replied he was already doing. Relieved by his kind smile, she thanked him and began east, retracing her steps.

The journey was slow, her body still weak from being bedridden, but she found, for the time, she no longer feared killing the rat-beasts and Ol Malhum that came at her. Reaching a familiar field a week later, she raced south, the abandoned house in sight. She burst through the door quickly, and scanned the room madly. There were bloodstains on the broken-down bed now, and Sharmin's eyes widened. Had Vuylay been killed in her sleep? She heard a creak above her, and dust suddenly littered down from the gaping hole above her. She glanced up quickly, her heart nearly stopping in her chest as the curious face of the Gladiator from that night in Einhovant's stared back down at her. She stumbled over her feet as she backed up, her breath becoming rapid and shallow. The night, which she had begun to forget, came back in startling clarity; the curiosity in his eyes now echoing that of when he slowly stabbed her. Her back hit the wall behind her, and she scooted along it, trying to find the door.

The Gladiator, whom she remembered the Spellhowler saying his name was Vlad, jumped gracefully from the top floor, shutting an old, mildewed book as he landed and stood. Finding the door, Sharmin whimpered once and pushed herself around the doorframe, stumbling as she came back out into the sunlight.

"Be careful, you'll hurt yourself." She heard him say, walking after her.

Feeling fear she hadn't felt in ages, Sharmin ran blindly. She didn't stop running until she was well into the fog that always surrounded the Ruins of Agony, where she paused at a dried, dead tree to catch her breath. She heard the skittering and squealing of a spider somewhere behind her in the mist, and she looked over her shoulder. There was silence, and then an awful sputtering noise, the spider letting out a gurgling squeal. Her breath caught in her throat as a dark figure became visible through the mist, and Vlad slowly walked into sight, shaking spider blood from his swords and sheathing them on his back. Another frightened whimper coming from her, Sharmin pushed herself from the tree and began running again. Surely, surely this time he was going to kill her.

"I'd be careful about running that way if I were you." She heard him call. Ignoring him, she ran past crumbled walls and right into the heart of the Ruins before pausing with wide eyes. Shutters shook on skeletons of houses that still smoldered from fire even though it had been years since fires had broken out there. All around her she heard moans and sobs of the spirits who had died. She spun quickly, lost in her fear, trying to get her mind to work properly. She backed up a step and spun again as she bounced off of something large. She gasped as a large Bugbear warrior, a kind of large, human like ogre, came into sight. He was a massive creature, his legs thicker than Sharmin's waist. Her head barely came past his belly button and she backed up a few steps, unable to remember to draw her sword as he raised his club overhead, growling. The points of two swords suddenly burst through the creature's chest, right under its massive pectorals. Sharmin shut her eyes and raised her shield as the blades separated, cutting the monster right through its ribs and lungs. There was a horrid pained, wet gurgle from the monster, and Sharmin backed up, her head still shielded, as she felt disgusting warm liquid spraying over her legs as the body fell. She barely had begun to lower her shield when she felt a cool hand close around her sword arm, which began to pull her through the Ruins.

"N…no!" Sharmin said weakly, as the back of the Gladiator's head met her vision. Dark red blood, almost purple, covered him, and her from the waist down, and she felt ill. She attempted to jerk her hand from his grasp, but his grip was firm.

"You'll do nicely. You're quite lively." Vlad said, pulling her around and releasing her. She tumbled to the ground, caught off-balance. Sharmin pushed herself up quickly, brushing her chin length hair from her face, scared that he might run her through once her back was turned. She stopped as she stood, as he was no longer in sight. She scanned the houses around her, confused at how quickly he had disappeared. He had been there, right? It wasn't just another phantom like that Komugi had chased? Wary about an attack still, Sharmin drew her sword and took a few cautious steps forward. She strained to listen for any signs of life, but could still only hear the gasping and sobbing of the restless spirits. Occasionally she heard the grunt and growl of a Bugbear, but there were none within sight.

Now frightened for a different reason, Sharmin wandered slowly through the Ruins, unsure of where she was, and how to get out. What was going on? Everything was suddenly strange and happening so quickly. The ruins about her were all bleak and gray, as if the fog that never seemed to blow away had washed everything out. The houses were close together, and she found it hard to tell which direction she was going in. She cried out in shock as she rounded a house and a Basilisk came into view.

"Behind you." The beast stated calmly. Sharmin turned just as a Zombie wrapped its arms around her in a bear hug and bit her shoulder, trying to take a bite from her. Its teeth hit her armor, and she changed the grip on her sword to stab backwards into its abdomen. She then turned quickly and, bringing her sword around again, cut off the creature's head. There was no blood. A moan came from the Zombie's body as it fell, unmoving. Sharmin took a deep breath and shut her eyes, composing herself. Zombies were closer to a human than skeletons or Bugbears, and she tried not to think about it lest her resolve crumble. She looked then, at the Basilisk, who blinked at her calmly.

"Did you…. just speak?" she asked it, taking a step.

"Of course, who else would have? I don't think that Zombie could have, his habits of speech seem to have dissolved into 'huuuurrrgh'." The Basilisk stated. It shifted a bit and moved its tail, as if getting comfortable.

"You're…a Basilisk." Sharmin said, disbelieving at what was going on.

"And you're a human, but you don't see me staring dumbly, ignoring my surroundings." It said sarcastically. Sharmin rounded it curiously, to see if it was some sort of large puppet being controlled by a hidden puppeteer. It watched her walk, and yawned, its large mouth full of sharp teeth.

"How are you talking? And aren't Basilisks supposed to be in the Wasteland?" she asked, crouching and peering under its short legs. Basilisks were large, rust colored, lizard like creatures. Their bodies were covered in plates; their tails had spines at the end, much like a dinosaur. Each Basilisk had eight legs, four on each side that were short and stubby. They mostly lived in the Wasteland, a wide, barren canyon that laid to the south of the continent. Seeing one here, let alone one that could talk and reason like a human, was an oddity Sharmin never thought she'd witness.

"How rude. I'm talking just like you are. But you are correct; most of my family lives in the Wasteland. I am a spiritual representative of the Earth. I was placed here after I died many years ago, while helping an Orc escape the Ant Nest. I was labeled a traitor among my kind, and unable to enter into our afterlife. My duty is none of your concern, as it deals with ancient rituals that no one is to know of, save the people who actively seek me out." It lowered itself to the ground, a motion that Sharmin identified as laying down. "I learned to speak through listening to the travelers who come through here to hunt the undead, and from the last intelligent occupant who lives here."

"Somebody lives here?" she asked in surprise. The Basilisk nodded.

"Of course, you'll see him soon too." It stated. Sharmin opened her mouth to inquire how, when an arrow hummed through the air and landed in the small of her back, where one of the spider's fangs had stabbed her not long before. Sharmin's mind swirled and she fell, looking over her shoulder at whom had shot her. A large group of skeletons gasped and wheezed behind her, one archer letting out a noise that sounded akin to laughter. "I told you, you shouldn't have ignored your surroundings…" she heard the Basilisk say before darkness claimed her.

Sharmin came to again moments later. She became aware that she was being dragged through the Ruins, a skeleton on either side of her, pulling her. Not conscious enough yet to be frightened, Sharmin idly wondered where it was that they were taking her, and why they had not finished her off there. Skeletons were usually mindless undead, jealous of the living for their flesh, for their ability to feel.

"Lift her head." A raspy voice commanded. A skeleton grabbed her by the hair and jerked her head upright. Her eyes widened as a frightful, skull-faced ghost wearing a long robe met her vision. The ghastly thing floated several feet above the ground and gazed down at her with empty sockets. It was transparent, and parts of it were invisible against the grayness of the fog. "Foolish child, venturing this far into my domain." It said, wheezing. Sharmin stared at it bravely; curiously absorbing its mannerisms and movements. She found herself feeling pity for this wandering soul, and its skeleton minions. How much pain do these lost creatures feel on a daily basis? How long must they be tormented with the past that they cannot change? She wondered if she would join them in their tormented afterlives once she was dead too. "You who are weary and tired…" the ghost began, leaning down until it was only inches from her face, "…surrender your soul to me."

There was the sound of metal hitting bone, and the skeletons behind her suddenly gasped and groaned. The ones holding her arms released her, and she fell heavily to the ground. Just as she lifted herself to her knees the ghost was in her face, and it began inhaling. Sharmin felt a strange tug inside of her, and a strange tingle as if she were stuck in a vacuum tunnel. She was paralyzed by the ghosts' action, and could not move to pull away from his reach. Her eyes widened and her face began to pale, her lips turning purple. She felt as if she couldn't breathe, and her limbs had become cold and numb. She could only stare into the ghosts' skeletal face as it inhaled a never-ending breath.

"Not so fast smoky." The Gladiator's voice came from behind Sharmin. The ghost released his hold on her as a dagger with a silver-plated cross hilt was driven into its head. It screamed and rose into the air again, flailing at the dagger it seemed to not be able to touch. Sharmin fell to her side and watched as Vlad calmly poured a clear liquid from a crystal flask over his swords, and then slowly circled the writhing ghost, as if inspecting it. A chill came over Sharmin's insides as she realized he was watching the ghost's reaction to the holy dagger with the same curiosity that he displayed when he stabbed her. He was learning from it.

Seemingly satisfied with what he found, Vlad shut his eyes and stabbed the ghost with both swords. It howled and dissolved into a white flame. Before the flames subsided, he reached into it and withdrew a silver pendant that seemed to glow with unholy power. Then the ghosts' flame exploded, and white clouds flew in every direction. One came at Sharmin, and she was shocked to find her own face in the cloud, staring back at her mournfully. It passed into her, and she drew in a gasping breath, not realizing until now that she hadn't been breathing. Drawing in shaky breaths, she glanced up to find Vlad staring down at her. Her heart began to pound in fear again, but he sheathed his swords instead of killing her, and leaned down to grab her arm and hoist her up, putting one of her arms over his neck. He paused for a moment to pull the arrow from her back, which caused her to cry out in pain. He then picked up her pack, to which he attached her shield, and hefted it over his shoulder before making a slow trek out of the Ruins.

"Here we are, safe and sound." The Gladiator said, sitting her against a rock outside of the Ruins several hours later. Without asking for permission, he dug out a healing potion she'd stowed into her bag and handed it to her. Sharmin shakily pulled the stopper from the bottle and took a swig, wincing as she swallowed. The healing potion was decidedly better tasting than the antidote her savior had given her after the spider attack, but it still didn't taste good. As bitter as the antidote was, the healing potion was just as potent, only sickly sweet in flavor. "That was fun, wasn't it? Thanks for the help, the Soul Scavenger would have never come out for me otherwise." He said cheerfully, pulling a flask of water from Sharmin's bag and taking a drink, again without permission. Sharmin stared at him with large eyes, the healing potion dropping from her hand and spilling into the grass.

"What…." She breathed, hoping that what he said didn't sound like what she thought it did. Vlad let out a satisfied breath as he lowered the flask from drinking, and put the stopper back on it.

"I said thank you for your help, did your hearing get taken when your soul did? I've heard that happens sometimes, but no worries, it'll return once your soul gets used to being in your body again." He said, his voice still cheerful. Sharmin found strength suddenly and sprung to her feet, staring angrily at Vlad as he stood.

"You…put me out there…knowing what would happen?" she managed to get out.

"Of course I did. The Soul Scavenger is particularly attracted to defeated, weaker souls, and comes out like clockwork to claim them. My soul is full of far too much ambition, I would have never been able to get him to come out on my own." He replied in a knowing tone.

"You're SICK." Sharmin spat, shaking in fury. Vlad raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. How dare he put her out there, knowing fully well that she might die, and think nothing of it? How dare he call her soul weak and defeated, he knew nothing about her!

"Sick? No, I once new a fellow by that name, did you know him as well?" he inquired honestly surprised. "My name is Vlad; might I inquire yours since we'll be traveling to Gludio together?"

"Traveling together? Don't make me laugh, you're just going to kill me as soon as you have the chance!" Sharmin retorted, taking a step away from him. Again, Vlad looked at her with a surprised expression.

"Kill you? My dear girl, whatever would I do that for?" he chuckled, shaking his head. "For what reason would it benefit me to kill a simple…" he inspected her for a moment before continuing "…knight, who most definitely had nothing of use to me?" Sharmin blinked at him evenly, her brow furrowed.

"But you…" she began, but stopped before fully stating her thought. He didn't remember her? Had she changed that much in nearly four years?

"But I what?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow and pursing his lips. Sharmin averted her gaze from him and clamped her mouth shut, refusing to answer him. Vlad shrugged then, dismissing the conversation as uninteresting and dull, and turned to make his way down the path leading to Gludio. "Hurry up then, I'm sure you don't want to be around this place when the sun sets and the undead venture out looking for meat." Sharmin thought for a moment, not wanting to go with the man that almost killed her twice, and left her traumatized for years, but not wanting to stay at the Ruins either. He paused down the path to turn and look at her. "Are you coming or not?" he asked, folding his arms. Finding no better alternative for now, and knowing she needed to get into town to find Komugi, Sharmin put her shield on and hefted her pack over her shoulder. As she followed behind Vlad, she cast a worried glance over her shoulder back to the Ruins. She said a silent prayer to Einhasad then, praying that the Soul Scavenger had not taken her sister.