Bridge sighed, staring out over the yard. The last thing in the world that she wanted was an aide, but it was obvious that she was going to get one in spite of that. She hadn't really had one as a true paladin before, she'd gone from being the junior Abbendis, serving alongside her father, alongside Mograine, to being Taelan's wife. She'd had a household staff, befitting that, but none of them had been a military aide. There had been a terribly short break in there, having babies, stepping away from her calling, away from the Order. She'd even considered laying down her weapons...

That hadn't lasted for long, the Scourging had destroyed any hope of it. After that, she had been on a fast track to her own downfall, and she'd never had a formal 'aide'. Any of the younger Crusaders around her worked as staff in a pinch, but they'd never been truly hers and she had considered them all disposable.

"I don't need an aide." She muttered, ignoring the slight rustling behind her. It didn't matter how fast she spun, she'd never catch it. At first, in Acherus, it had terrified her...more shadows caught out of the corner of her eye, just like in New Hearthglen. Mad, worthless, all of the words had come up again to haunt her. Now, she knew exactly what it was and that she wasn't mad. At least not mad when it came to this...it really was there. And it played a game with her, it would let her know it was there, just like this...a swiftly fleeting shadow, the tiniest whisper of a noise. If she spun, nothing would be there. If she ignored it, she would turn and whatever it brought would be there, but it would be gone.

"And I don't need you."

And she was talking to herself, because it had already left. She turned, moving back to the table, picking up the black leather bound folder sitting conspicuously where the map had been rolled out. She opened it, pulling out its contents. More maps, scraps of paper, an envelope, and an ornately bound purple book.

What are you up to, Darion? You son of a...

This was an object she never, ever wanted to see again in her life. It was the very expression of her own insanity, her own corruption. Why, why, why would Darion have sent this to her? Only he could have. But she refused to open it, refused to look at it, refused to read it. Just the rantings of a madwoman. Just the rantings of a pawn. I am no longer that person.

Annoyed, she opened the envelope and scanned it. It was in Darion's handwriting, no doubt there. She'd helped him learn it.

"Sorrow.

Amal'thazad has informed you have moved to Wintergarde on High Commander Wyrmbane's invitation. I know you understand the risks involved with that, and I do understand that you must move onward to Icecrown to achieve our goals. On a closer note, I have been working to recover some of your personal possessions, including this book. It is yours to do with as you see fit, of course. I thought you'd want to be the one to deal with it, rather than leaving it in their hands. Some things are best removed from those who might be able to use it to trace you.

I will be sending more information about the area you are currently in, I know you are mostly familiar with it, but some of the details may have changed or you may have been unaware of them.

Suffer well, sister.

Darion."

The single page began to crumble in her fingers, dissipating into a fine powdery ash that blew away into nothingness.

She sighed, glaring at the book. Of course he was correct, leaving this book in the hands of the Onslaught, of whatever Westwind had become, was dangerous. There was no way to change that her words in this had been used to continue to corrupt those around her, no way to avoid the fact that she was undoubtedly being used as a martyr since her 'death'. But she could reject the book's physical presence now. She tossed it without ceremony over her shoulder, onto the coals in the grate. It didn't deserve more than that, no grand show of its importance, simply trash like so many other things consigned to burn away to nothing. Well, mostly nothing...she'd have to do something about the wrought silver ornamentation decorating the cover, but that was not the words, not the reason to destroy this. Her words in it were the poison, the book itself had never been enchanted.

Done, gone, time to turn back to her current issues. She stared around the room, it was the antechamber for what was probably supposed to be 'her' room, she'd dropped her bags onto the small bed along the wall but if there was an 'aide', that was for them. Although this small room was comfortable enough for her and she would be perfectly happy in it, it didn't seem like that was how it was going to be.

An aide might be useful.

Unfortunately so. It had been a very long time since she'd been a part of the Order, since she'd been anything but a member of the Scarlet Crusade. She wasn't going to fall seamlessly back into an organization that had probably changed as much in the past fifteen years as she had. She'd been leading in a bubble, isolated from those outside of the Crusade. She didn't even know who was in charge now. While she had no intention of returning to the Order as a member, as one of the whole, she would still need to work alongside them. But it would mean spending a lot of time with a stranger, just someone else to work to hide from.

No one said this was going to be easy.

No. No one had. Darion had offered her the chance to gracefully bow out of all of this and she had chosen to come to the field. It was up to her to make it work from here.

This is the first time I truly stand on my own.

A sobering thought. Always, there had been someone ahead of her, paving the way. She'd been Abbendis's daughter. She had been raised alongside Taelan, alongside Renault and Darion, alongside all of them. They'd been so damned insular. They'd been so easy to manipulate, holding themselves apart.

I see it now.

And now was too late. Well, too late for the others...again, she did this alone. Darion loved her the best that he still could, he still supported her, but he could not be there for this. And even if he could, she knew he would not. She had to do this without him. Without anyone that she had a past with. New people for a new start. The only one who she might be able to have back, at the right time, was Tirion.

So be it.

She sighed, hooking the diary's silver ornament out of the fire and setting it to the side to cool while she sat next to her bags and emptied them on the floor. It would be best if she knew exactly what Darion had sent her with. It was pretty much what she was expecting, there had already been a lot of care and planning in this so far, no reason to think he'd stumble with it now. Her only concern was that he'd been undead long enough to forget what the living might need to deploy into Northrend, but if he had...someone near him had not.

Unfortunately it was a small task, even taking an inordinate amount of care with it could draw it out only so long. Bridge had always hated waiting at times like this, she could be calm when things were right, but not now. Not here. Before, she'd had the distraction of handling the Crusade, moving between New Hearthglen and New Avalon, readying the main force to come here to Northrend. So much to plan, so much to do. Now, she waited.