Chapter 19

The prize

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"Ugh!"

Jaheira staggered away from the smoking carcass at her feet, her flaming sword winking out of existence. Grunting, Anomen sheathed his sword and steadied her by the shoulder, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the gouge in her mailed chest piece. Deep claw marks had torn clean through the metal. He raised a hand to cast a healing spell, to stop the blood leaking through. Except she stopped him with a sharp look.

"I can handle this. See to Elene," she told him through gritted teeth.

Anomen clenched his jaw. She was right. The troll leader Torgal had whipped Elene across the room in its mad charge – he'd thought it a near-fatal blow until she somehow clambered to her feet again after. Checking the carcasses strewn across the room one last time, he unholstered his shield and propped it against a pillar. A healing cantrip on his wounded leg would have to be enough to tide him over. He brushed past Yoshimo as he made for Elene, the other man looking relatively unscathed as he stayed back through all the fights.

Kivan propped himself on one knee before Elene as she slumped bonelessly against the wall. A frown marred his tanned features. He was murmuring something to her, barely above a whisper, but Anomen could sense the chiding tone underlying the concern. Sensing his proximity, though, Kivan clammed up mid-sentence.

Anomen pointed to the bloody patch on Kivan's shoulder. "Do you need healing?"

Kivan glanced down in surprise, as though noticing the wound for the first time. The heady thrill of adrenaline still doing its magic. Then he shook his head. "Just a scratch."

Impressive, given the close calls along the way when enemies managed to hit at their back line. Kivan had fought back with the fervour of a man who did not fear death, throwing caution to the wind with sudden lunges and improvised weapons. Anomen wondered at what could fuel such a savage fighting spark.

As for Elene…suffice to say, it was a good thing she'd invested in armour before they departed the city. The deep gash through her side would have cut through unprotected flesh like ribbon, ripping out everything within. Magical protection also played a part in dulling the edge - one of the benefits of taking their adventures outside the city. Her head lolled over to look at him as he dropped to one knee by her side, on the other side of Kivan. Despite the obvious pain she was in, her eyes gleamed with uncanny lucidity in the gloom. She shook her head as he pulled off his gloves to examine her.

"I'm…fine," she said, avoiding his touch.

Kivan glared at her. "Let the man work."

"It's nothing, I just…"

Her words cut off with a sharp hiss as she put weight on her right side. Anomen rocked back on his heels as he waited for her breathing to even out, noting that her teeth were stained with blood. Damaged ribs, from the look of it. Kivan's features coloured with disappointment as the muscles in his jaw twitched in the ensuing silence. Something in his eyes seemed to cow Elene into defeat as she turned resignedly back to Anomen.

"Where does it hurt?" he asked.

"Everywhere," she said with a grimace.

Anomen pursed his lips and tried again. "Where does it hurt most?"

"Right. Side."

Kivan rose, already heading to the exit. Though they had won this battle, Captain Arat and his men were still up against the main force of yuan-ti in and around the dining hall. Well. Provided Elene hadn't reduced that to an ashen husk in her explosion. Focusing his attention to his patient, Anomen leaned over her, carefully pulling away the straps of her armour. Several painstaking minutes and many winces later, he probed at the vulnerable flesh beneath. He nodded with satisfaction when his fingers found bruising.

Grasping his holy symbol, he prayed to Helm for the power to take away the damage he sensed to her body. Power surged in his chest, and he breathed deep as Helm's divine touch grazed him. Then he channelled his patron's power into his hand. The soothing flow of healing magic he directed to the ribs on her right, where the bruising was worst.

As he deepened his focus, his brows furrowed. Two of her ribs were badly bruised, almost fractured. And yet…he probed deeper with his divine sight. No, he wasn't mistaken. Parts of it had already been healed. A messy job, as if someone had just forced the bone together and fused them in place as quickly as they could manage. It didn't feel like something a healing potion would do. Or a conventional spell, for that matter.

In fact, it felt like nothing he'd ever encountered.

As he finished his spell, he watched her with a wary eye. Relief flooded her features as the pain receded. Slowly, she pushed herself to sit up straight. Her lips quirked, as though to thank him with a smile. But then she noticed the way he looked at her, and she ducked her head.

"Thank you, Anomen."

"Not at all, my lady," he replied.

"I'll take a potion for the rest. You should see if Jaheira needs you."

She turned away, grasping for the healing potion at her belt. Not knowing what to think, he clambered to his feet, wincing at the pins and needles in his legs. How long had he been fighting for? The adrenaline must be coming off. Wiping at his face, he noticed that Yoshimo was nowhere to be seen. Further on the other side of the high-ceilinged chamber, Jaheira sat crouched next to Nalia, speaking in soft tones.

And Nalia…poor Nalia. She sat crumpled on folded legs before a humanoid shape on the ground. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her breath came out in ragged gasps as she wept. Unlikely that she was even listening to Jaheira at that point. He tore his gaze away, glancing up at the imposing statues lining the walls of the family vault instead. How could she, when her father was nothing more than a smear on the ground? Despite their group's fevered push, they'd been too late to save Lord de'Arnise from a gruesome fate. Anomen let out a slow breath. First the circus deaths, then the murdering tanner's escape…now this.

Yet another stain of failure on his burdened conscience.

"Anomen."

He jerked to attention. Jaheira was approaching.

"Check the perimeter, then make sure those two are alright." Her eyes flicked to Elene and Nalia. "I will see what needs doing above."

He nodded, swallowing the self-recriminations building in his chest. Now was not the time. Gathering his shield, he threaded his way past the torrid mess of carcasses littering the floor and into the main hall. The floor was still slippery with gore at the doorway, the rancid smell of troll innards stinging his nose as he passed. The musty smell of basement became more noticeable the further away he walked from the vault. An umber hulk carcass lay strewn just past the door. He ignored it. Mechanically, he walked down each corridor and peeked into every room and alcove in the basement. Nothing living remained. The place felt abandoned. A barren, forgotten place.

By the time he returned to the vault, Elene had relocated to one of the crates stacked in the main hallway. To get away from the smell, if he were to guess. She hugged her battered armour to her chest with her eyes closed, looking every bit as exhausted as he felt.

"Can you lift your arms over your head?" Anomen asked.

For a long, awkward stretch, she didn't respond. He wondered if she'd actually heard him. Then she put aside the armour to raise both arms with painstaking slowness, grimacing as she straightened them upwards. Her whole body shook from the effort, and she dropped her arms the second he gestured for her to.

"Still hurts," she admitted through gritted teeth.

He shuffled closer to probe her side again, earning him another wince. "That means your ribs are almost healed. If those bones are still broken, you wouldn't be able to do that even halfway."

"Small blessings," she muttered. "It was my fault, I overextended."

"I'm surprised it's not worse, to be honest," he replied, his tone prodding.

She averted her eyes. "I was lucky."

"Do you need another healing spell?"

"No. No, maybe you can check on Nalia. She…" Elene's gaze strayed to the doorway leading to the de'Arnise family vault. "Maybe she needs something."

Anomen followed her gaze but made no move to leave. "What she needs is beyond my abilities, I'm afraid."

Letting out a slow exhale, Elene seemed to deflate into the crate she sat on. He could relate to the wretchedness she felt. Even with their valiant charge through the ranks of trolls and yuan-ti, they didn't have much to show for it in the end. Truth be told, they'd won back the Keep by the skin of their teeth. The final charge had been equal parts brilliant and madness, a messy cacophony of blades and flashing fire arrows.

Brows furrowing, he replayed the battle scene in his mind. Especially Torgal's feral charge on Elene. The force of impact alone should have shattered a few ribs, armour or no. But against all odds, she'd found her feet again, launching bolts of fire at their weakened enemies before collapsing at the end. How did she manage that? More interesting still, the damage was already half-healed by the time he reached her.

Which was impossible. Elene was no healer.

"Won't resurrection work, though? Nalia could probably afford it if she scraped together whatever's left in her coffers," Elene asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Anomen's lips thinned. "You'd need an exceptional cleric to cast a spell of such power. Even then, there's no guarantee of success. The state of the body makes a successful resurrection…" He pushed the thought of the dismembered Lord out of his mind, "…difficult, to say the least. The money would be better served to help the living, aid the rebuilding. A great harm has been done to the people under the Keep's protection as well."

Elene closed her eyes. "You're right. I just wish…there was something more we could do."

Disappointment was thick in her voice, but he stood by his words. Duty outweighed all, the life of one cannot prevail over the lives of many. Straightening, he felt the aches and pains from the long battles catch up to him. His work was not done. Nay, most of the time, the work of a healer only began once the battles were over.

"I will speak to her anyway," he said. "You should rest, my lady."

He took great care in navigating his way into the large chamber where the de'Arnise family kept their valuables and memorials to their ancestors. In their initial assault, he hadn't taken the time to really admire the surroundings. A grand place with imposing grey pillars and marble statues of angels in repose. In the silence, though, the place felt like a tomb. Nalia sat cross-legged facing her father's concealed body, hunched forward with her back to the entrance. At least her shoulders weren't shaking with tears anymore.

He approached cautiously, his eyes drawn to the large statue in front of Nalia. It was that of a human man with a thick head of hair, draped in the simple finery he'd learned to identify the de'Arnise with. He imagined that's what the late Lord de'Arnise would have looked like before the trolls had their way with him.

"Lady de'Arnise," Anomen began. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Nalia stirred, as if noticing his presence for the first time. She threw a quick look over her shoulder. Her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy features told him enough. "No." After a moment, she seemed to remember the lesson in manners drilled into most noble-borns. "But thank you for asking."

Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer until he stood right next to her. His eyes fixed onto the shape under the cloak. Once a man, now but a lump of lifeless flesh. Such was the fate of all mortals. He whispered another prayer to Helm, that Lord de'Arnise's journey to his afterlife be swift, and he be placed with the souls of the righteous. Never mind that the man likely worshipped Waukeen in his life, if the statuettes decorating his keep were any indicator.

"How would you like to handle the burial, my lady?" he asked quietly.

Nalia wiped at her eyes. "I don't know." A harsh laugh escaped her. "It hardly matters, does it?"

He frowned, turning towards her. "Of course it does. A good man deserves a good burial."

"You truly think he's a good man?" she asked, her voice suddenly small.

A nod. "I've only heard great things about your father."

If only the same could be said of mine.

Nalia lowered her gaze. Silence reined for some time before she next spoke. "I suppose I finally understand what he told me. When I was younger. That upon death, men will only leave behind their names and their good deeds."

"And their family," he murmured.

Nalia's scoff sounded especially rough given the topic. "Unless it's a daughter. Daughters count for nothing."

His armour creaked as he shifted in thought. Therein lay the crux of the matter. Lord de'Arnise had no sons and Nalia was unwed. His title, his lands, his wealth – they would not pass down to her unless she chose to fight in the courts. As an Athkatlan of noble line himself, Anomen knew it would be an infuriating exercise in futility, unless she had the favour of the Council of Six. Or a bloody good advocate.

"Do you have uncles? Or cousins that can steward your father's wealth?" he asked.

"No," Nalia shook her head. "The men in Father's line either died in wars or moved north. I only have Aunt Delcia left, and the circling vultures know it. My family could end up with nothing after all this. Everything Father worked for all these years…"

Briefly, he thought of his sister Moira. He chose to cast aside the aloof chivalry he'd been taught at the Order for that moment. "Regardless of what you think…if you'd asked your father, he would have told you that you are his greatest wealth and legacy both."

She glanced up at him in surprise. "That…that's kind of you to say, Anomen."

The sincerity in her gaze made him flush with discomfort. He retreated to safer pastures. "If you require nothing else, I will walk the grounds and see if anyone else requires healing. I hear Captain Arat suffered great losses among his men as well."

"Yes…I think your aid would best serve the Captain. I…" Nalia returned her attention to the shroud. "I will look after my father. His wake must take place quickly, before the body…before too long. If any of the servants have returned, please ask them to assist in the clean-up." Her features turned grim. "I want Torgal's filth cleared out and burned before the day is done."

"As you wish, my lady."

Anomen's steps led him up the secret stairwell leading up to the first floor of the keep. Truly, if Nalia hadn't been there to guide them through such hidden nooks and crannies, they would have had to fight through the entire force to get to Torgal. Stepping out of Lady Delcia Caan's chambers, he nodded at a militia soldier standing guard just outside the door. The man gave him a crisp salute in response. Further down the hallway, a few more militiamen could be seen dragging a troll carcass from the library. As he observed the trail of gore that resulted, he surmised it would take days of scrubbing to get the blood and ichor off the floors and walls of the Keep.

The grand hall of the Keep was bustling by the time he arrived. Jaheira had already set up a triage system there, probably as soon as she'd surfaced from the basement. A score of wounded men and women lay on bedding or blankets scrounged from the gutted bedrooms. Jaheira didn't look up, utterly focusing her efforts on one who looked not long for this world. Hale men weaved about the room refilling water buckets, preparing makeshift bandages, or comforting their downed comrades in hushed tones.

Anomen began to unstrap the chestpiece of his armour. To work then.

He soon lost himself in the task of remedying broken bones and bloody wounds. When he was in the seminary, he'd resented his lot in life. The sons of wealthy noblemen could afford the equipment and training necessary to be selected to become paladins of the Order. He, on the other hand, had pledged himself to the cause with nothing but the clothes on his back and a beaten old shield, a family heirloom from his great grandfather. Without the necessary backing, they'd earmarked him as a priest when all he wanted was to stand at the front of the column in battle and face his enemies head on.

Now, though, as he leaned over a man who needed his bloodied bandage changed, he wondered if he was in fact serving a higher purpose as a priest. There was glory to be had in the hands that heal as much as the hands that smite.

So preoccupied he was that he missed the two figures entering the main hall. Only when they reached Jaheira on the other side of the chamber did he realise that Yoshimo and Kivan had returned from their hunt. Anomen took a measure of comfort from their unhurried steps, yet paused in his work to listen in.

"We've checked the perimeter all the way to the edge of the fields. No stragglers," Yoshimo reported.

"Good riddance," Jaheira grunted. "Is the fire pit ready?"

"The good Captain is supervising. They'll be starting the merry bonfire soon." Yoshimo wrinkled his nose. "As if the carcasses weren't crispy enough already."

"Better safe than sorry," said Kivan.

Jaheira finally looked up from her patient, at him. "How's your shoulder?"

"Fine," came the clipped answer.

For a brief flicker, she looked like she was about to say something else. Instead, she dropped her gaze and resumed her work. Kivan likewise moved off without another word. Anomen frowned. Something was up with those two. Granted, they never struck him as bosom friends from the get-go. Ever since their clandestine meeting from yesterday, though, they'd barely said a word to one another unless someone's life or limb was on the line. He wondered whether this would bode ill for the remainder of their travels.

The afternoon passed by in a whirl of activity. They saved most of the remaining men under Captain Arat's command. The handful that they couldn't were carried to the north of the Keep for burial by those who could still bear arms. Anomen went with them to read the last rites. It didn't mean much for the dead, but the living needed to hear that the Gods were still with them in such trying times. The pits had already been dug by the time Anomen arrived, partly filled with those that had fallen earlier. As he stood at the foot of the pit for the last rites, a terrible sense of loss gripped at his heart. So many lives lost. If only they had made the journey earlier. Perhaps much of this bloodshed should have been avoided.

Or we would be joining them in those pits.

In the baking Amnian heat, he banded together with the militiamen to bury the fallen. Some sang quiet hymns as they worked, a familiar tune he remembered from the seminary. Drinks were shared amid knowing looks of those who survived a terrible ordeal. The mood got heavier as the men recounted those they lost, and how difficult it would be to recover. Even so, he stayed. He stayed until the last hole had been filled and only took the steps to return to the Inner Keep as the sun receded into the western horizon.

Black smoke rose from further in the woods. A veritable bonfire of wicked beasts. He was glad to be upwind of it.

The exterior torch brackets were already being lit in preparation for darkness. The walls were manned, Captain Arat clearly still worried of another attack in the night. There was no telling if Torgal and his ilk had support. As he was about to head to the main hall, the guard at the door raised a hand to greet him.

"Sir, you've been asked by Lady de'Arnise to head to the library," he said.

Anomen peered into the main hall and found it deserted. "Very well."

As he suspected, the rest of the group was holed up with Nalia and Captain Arat in the library. His brows furrowed as he entered. The place looked like a hurricane had blown past. His friends dotted the room in whatever seats they could scrounge amid overturned bookshelves and ransacked desks, leaving only Kivan and Captain Arat on their feet. All of them had discarded their armours, though their weapons were within arms' reach. Nalia sat at the edge of a table with her feet dangling, though she looked no less regal for it somehow.

"Anomen. Excellent timing," she said by way of greeting. "We were just about to start."

"Is everything alright?" Anomen asked.

Nalia's smile turned wan. "Things are as well as they can be for the moment. I doubt those monsters dared return if they saw what your friend did to our kitchen."

"I did apologise for that," Elene muttered.

"What's this about then?" he asked, easing himself onto a table within Elene's arm span. She sat right at the edge of one of the surviving chairs in the room, tension evident from the line of her shoulders. At least she wasn't as pale as when he'd left her earlier.

"Not to be crass, but I was hoping we're here to discuss a reward," said Elene. "You know I have to raise a large sum to rescue my sister."

The strain in Elene's voice was unmistakable despite her attempt to keep her tone light. Fatigue had long stripped away her usual veneer of politeness, and she was clearly still unhappy about Nalia's earlier omission. While gold had always been a strong motivator for their endeavours, her attitude towards it had shifted markedly in recent days. He hoped it wasn't a sign of worsening conditions with the Shadow Thieves. Or whoever Jaheira's friends had been.

"Well. It is about the reward." Nalia's lips curved into a strained smile. "To start with, I offer you the Flail of the Ages. It has served my family well over the years, and my father would have been proud to know that his legacy lives on in the hands of good."

While she was addressing Elene, Captain Arat approached Anomen with a large bundle under his arm. Once in his hands, Anomen lifted the cloth to reveal a gleaming flail with three heads. Strong magic hummed through it; he confirmed it with a light caress over the metal. A formidable weapon. He looked uncertainly to Elene. She nodded her crisp assent – the weapon was his to bear.

"Thank you, my lady," he said to Nalia.

The Lady of the Keep smiled in return, though grew tentative as she continued. "As for proper recompense, I'll be frank with you. Given everything that's happened, I may no longer be in a position to offer you much. But…I have something of a proposition for your group if you'll hear me out."

"I'm listening. But no more omissions, Nalia," Elene warned.

"Very well," the lady exhaled. "I will be transparent. With my father's death, the Keep no longer belongs to my family. My claim is forfeit by virtue of being a woman, and there are no close male relatives on hand to claim the lands anytime soon. Without clarity on that, there's nothing I can officially offer you except whatever you and your friends can carry out of here tonight."

Jaheira's eyes narrowed. "We have no intention of carting furniture out to Athkatla."

"I didn't think so. At the same time, it would be unfair of me to offer only an old heirloom in thanks." Nalia paused, giving Elene a shrewd look. "Fortunately, there is another avenue, if you're open to exploit a loophole in Amnian inheritance laws. There are two possibilities that allow me to retain some measure of control of my family's holdings." She offered a tenuous smile. "First, I could marry an Amnian man of noble birth. Then the lands would fall under his name, and I would govern by proxy."

Anomen didn't miss the furtive way both Jaheira and Elene glanced at him. He shifted uncomfortably on his perch. While Nalia struck him as a lovely, respectable lady, he hoped the second possibility was more palatable.

"The second possibility, which I vastly prefer, is an old ruling, in place since the war with Tethyr. If a landed holding were to fall to invaders, whomsoever manages to liberate the holding from those invaders has the right to claim it in their own name." Nalia pursed her lips. "Granted, the ruling wasn't written with troll invaders in mind, but the principle still applies. It should hold at least until I hire a good solicitor to hash out the details."

Elene frowned. "What are you saying? That I can claim your keep in your stead?"

"That's precisely it. We park the Keep under your name to buy me time to get Father's affairs in order. While that happens, you can come and go as you please, collect taxes, essentially act as the Lady of the Land. You'd be able to recoup a sizeable gain within a few tendays, by my counting," explained Nalia.

"That reward comes with its own burdens," Jaheira noted.

"Hang on." Elene gestured to herself. "I'm a mercenary. I solve problems for money, usually at the end of a blade. I don't know the first thing about running a keep."

Nalia waved her off. "You needn't worry about that. I'll be managing everything for you while you go off doing…whatever it is mercenaries do. All I need is for your name to be attached to the holdings, maybe show up in court once or twice at most to formalise proceedings. I will be with you every step of the way." She folded her hands primly on her lap. "Consider this a long-term alliance."

"And I will serve the de'Arnise family as I always have," Captain Arat added.

Anomen took a deep breath in thought. Apparently, Nalia hadn't been sitting with her father's remains in idleness. She must have spent the entire afternoon cobbling together this plan to salvage the situation. It was a sound plan, though. With timely manoeuvring in the courts, she may even get away with it. He wondered if Moira would be able to pull off something similar with his own family's holdings, if both he and his father were to meet their untimely ends. It gave him hope.

Elene shook her head in disbelief. "How are you fine with this? You don't even know me. What if I turn around and sell it to another noble? Or worse?"

"Judging from how you've handled things so far, and the company you keep…" Here, Nalia shot a meaningful look at Anomen, "I think you're the trustworthy sort. You didn't have to risk yourself to fight through a horde of trolls on my behalf…but you did."

"I needed the gold," said Elene, bland as porridge.

"And by my honour, you will have it. It's just…not going to be available to you today."

"There's no guarantee it will be there tomorrow either," Kivan pointed out.

"You know, this reminds me of an old saying from home: sometimes it's best to cut one's losses than to dig a deeper hole," Yoshimo remarked. Much as he would like to side with Nalia, Anomen found himself reluctantly agreeing with the Kara-Turan's sentiment.

Nalia's eyes flashed. "I am not leading you on. This land is prosperous, the people who live on it are good, upstanding citizens…this is my father's legacy. So much good can come of it. I cannot…I will not let it fall into the hands of men like…" she clamped her mouth shut, as though stopping herself from revealing too much. "Like those I grew up with. Those boars wouldn't know honour even if it slapped them in the cheek!"

Yoshimo shot a small smile at Elene. She nodded slowly. "While I have several useful skills, defying the gentry is not one of them. I understand you're trying to find a solution, but…I only signed on to defend your keep from trolls, not other nobles."

No fidgeting this time, nor furtive looks to Jaheira. Unlikely that she would budge from her position. Indignance bubbled in Anomen's chest. Nalia's proposal was a godsend – a promise of steady, legitimate income once things settled down. They could expand their clout further with the forces of the Keep at their back. When else could they earn an opportunity like this? He'd grown up in envy of other noble families far wealthier than his own and here Nalia was offering up all of it to a virtual stranger. And Elene was turning her down?

"So…you will not help?" Nalia asked, dismayed.

"I'm sorry, Nalia. I wish there was another way."

He couldn't believe it. The protest burned at the tip of his tongue, but he caught Jaheira's glare in his periphery. A quick glance about the room confirmed that Kivan and Yoshimo approved of Elene's decision. Swallowing his outburst, he finally looked to Elene. The regret on her features seemed genuine as she slid to her feet.

"We'll not impose on your company for long." Elene ducked her head, the epitome of courtesy. "I wish you the best, whatever you choose."

Nalia dropped her gaze as she struggled to maintain composure. "Thank you. And to you as well. I hope you reach your sister in time."

With a distracted nod, Elene left the library. Yoshimo slid away from the bookshelf he was leaning on to discuss logistics with Jaheira and Kivan. For a moment, Anomen sat there torn. The direction was clear, but he couldn't accept the outcome, couldn't deal with the bitter disappointment marring Nalia's tired face. Making up his mind, he ignored the leaden weight of fatigue in his legs and set out after Elene. She hadn't gotten far, merely a dozen paces ahead in the hallway by the time he caught up.

Elene turned and held out a hand at his approach. "I know what you're going to say. You and Nalia may be born for this but I…I certainly am not. It's too much of a commitment."

"You won't be doing it alone, my lady. Nalia will support you. As will I. What is this but another battlefield to navigate, except one fought with coin and logistics." Anomen levelled her with a beseeching look. "Please reconsider."

"I appreciate your faith in me. It means a lot." She sighed. "But the path I walk, I can't afford to be responsible for anyone else."

Her eyes glinted in the flickering torchlight. An acute foreboding lingered from her words, one born of evaded queries and wary obfuscation. Further protestation died on his lips, replaced by a multitude of questions instead. While Jaheira had told him of their achievements in Baldur's Gate, one part of the equation had always eluded him. What was it about Elene that drew danger to her like moths to a flame? Underneath the guise of a mild-mannered former scribe, who was she, really?

Before he could give voice to any of his thoughts, Elene offered him one last, apologetic smile, and strode off into the deserted hallway.

.

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Author's Note:

Alright, I'll be honest, I enjoyed my December break a bit too much. Plus I had a bit of a downer after that incident of one of my stories being plagiarised and sold on Amazon by some unscrupulous characters. But I'm coming back to writing, slowly but surely. I am way too invested in this story to let it fade.

It's funny, before I started writing Anomen, I felt he was just okay. But now he's one of my favourites! Hope you're still enjoying this story as much as I enjoy writing it. :)