She drifted. Everything around her was white. There were no boundaries or landmarks. There was no direction. Most importantly, there was no emotion. No hurt, no sorrow, no guilt or grief. In other circumstances she might have called it peaceful, but she could not feel peace any more than she could feel pain. She just existed and she was content with that. For a little while, she had a sense of something weighing her down or holding her back. She was not sure what it was, but it was easy to ignore. Eventually, the feeling became more and more vague until it was only the most tenuous sensation. She was sure that it would be gone soon, so she did not think about it anymore.

There was no time where she was. It might have only been a few seconds when she recognized the presence near her or it might have been an eon. The presence slowly brightened into a pale pewter gleam that clearly stood out against the white background. It tugged on her ever so gently.

Karigan.

Was that her name? It sounded familiar. There was something about that name that called up memories of pain, though, so she shied away from it.

The presence fluctuated slowly into a shape – a man? No, an Eletian. Images and associations were coming back to her faster than she could push them away. Slowly, he lifted and extended his hands toward her, limned in the pale pewter light that defined him.

Karigan. We're all here.

The images turned into memories and then into thoughts.

A tall man, broad shoulders with an easy, confident carriage. Trust and love radiated from him. Dad, she thought, slowly testing the name. It seemed right. It seemed to fit. The presence showed her another image of him, this time with his shoulders bowed and tears filling his brown eyes. Sadness overwhelmed him. He was waiting for something. For...her?

A perfectly balanced sword with the black band signifying mastery swung into a sequence that tugged more memories forth. The hand that held it was large and strong, well-callused from use. Granite features eased into a smile off-duty, lighting his hazel eyes. Fastion, she remembered. A Weapon. Her friend and mentor.

Amber eyes, well-kept amber beard with darker highlights. Zachary, her memory whispered to her. Emotion came back to her as she remembered the emotion in his eyes and the tenderness of his arms as he held her. The strength of the recollection brought other memories forward until they started to exert an unavoidable pressure on her. Suddenly, she was afraid and retreated away from the surge of memories and emotions that the shining pewter presence called forth. She was trying to avoid all of them. She remembered that much clearly.

The whiteness around her took on a faint impression of a whirling vortex of stars. All of the stars in the universe in all of their infinite patterns swirled grandly around her. Wings fluttered around her, a suggestion of great power and responsibility.

There was also a choice.

Instinctively, she knew that she stood on the threshold of an irrevocable decision. She could dive down into the stars or she could go with the pewter being beckoning to her, but either way it was final. She hovered, undecided. If only I could remember more! She shied away from the idea. She didn't want to remember. Remembering meant hurt and pain and she did not want that anymore.

She started to turn down toward the starry field and felt more clearly the winged presence. It was more defined than the pewter presence reaching out for her. Waves of love washed over her, along with a clear feeling that it wasn't time yet. It was similar to something she had felt not very long ago.

Westrion. Her memory supplied the name and she smiled and reached out for him.

Westrion coalesced slowly, his wings buffering her and preventing her from descending any further. Child of mine, the great voice whispered in her mind. I gave you no choice when I threw you back into the mortal world. Perhaps I have wronged you, as you seem so determined to find your way back to me. Decide then, beloved, and I shall honor your wishes.

Karigan! The presence shining behind her cried out in denial and reached for her again. This time there was a sense of need and desperation and with her own choked cry she remembered the events she had tried so hard to forget. Mornhavon was still loose in the world and Sacoridia stood on the edge of war. She could not in good conscience abandon her responsibilities. Not yet.

Pride radiated from Westrion's figure as he slowly dissolved back into the starry background. Remember, I will never leave you. The same love and regret she vaguely remembered from before washed over her as she turned to grip the Eletian's hands securely.

Karigan opened her eyes slowly as weight returned to her. Weight and feeling. Slender, warm hands held her face firmly between them and she gazed up into the pale gray eyes of an Eletian. They no longer shone brightly, but she recognized him as the presence that called her back into herself. After another second, she recognized him in another way.

He saw the life return to her eyes and gave a triumphant laugh. "Karigan!" The sound was musical joy in her ears.

"Somial," she managed. Her voice sounded awful and she could barely force it out, but she brought up her good hand to cover his own on her face. "Somial, I'm alive." That sounded a little bit better, for he straightened up so she could see past him into the room. She was in the same room she remembered waking up in before, but this time it seemed packed full of people.

His face was solemn, but she could hear the smile in his voice. "You're alive," he agreed.

One of the people pushed forward and laid his hand on her forehead. "You're alive," he repeated after Somial, in a voice that trembled with emotion. It took a second for Karigan to recognize her father and everything that he didn't know about her flashed through her mind.

"Dad," she whispered. "I thought I would never see you again." She really had thought that, even once Brienne had brought her and Lhean back to the castle. Seeing him in person was a gift. She fervently thanked Westrion for the chance to make things right with him. Tears welled up in her eyes and she found herself crying.

Stevic seemed to feel the same way, for tears trickled down his own cheeks. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm so sorry, Karigan, for everything."

She snuffled and managed a wry smile. "I'm not so sure you have much to apologize for." She tried to reach up to him but pain screamed up from her wrist and she stifled a cry of agony. "I'd forgotten how much I hurt," she muttered, embarrassed. She didn't want her father to think she was weak.

"I thought you were going to heal her," Stevic faced the Eletian, obviously trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

Somial seemed unaffected and simply nodded in acknowledgment. "And I shall, Clan Chief. She had to choose to heal, first, to come back." He smoothed back the pale streak of hair from her temple.

I almost didn't. The words hovered on her tongue, but she bit them back as she saw the strain and grief etched in her father's face. Instead, she swallowed them and forced another smile on her face. To her surprise, it was not as difficult as she thought it would be.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dad," she said, and had to repress a grin as Stevic nodded very solemnly, the way he used to when she was a little girl asserting she was a grown up. "No, really," she protested. As always, her father smiled very gently and smoothed her hair back.

"I know, Karigan." He hesitated for a very long moment and then stepped back. "We shall leave you in peace then, so you can get well. I will be back soon." He looked at Somial and bowed very low. "You and yours have my thanks, healer. If there is anything you need, Clan G'ladheon will not forget our debt."

"You honor me, Clan Chief," Somial murmured. "In truth, as I mentioned before, you owe us nothing."

Stevic waved away that statement. "Nonetheless," he said. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, not looking back. The others hesitated, then followed him out. Before the door shut behind them, two black-clad figures slipped through to stand at attention on either side of the door.

"Sister-at-arms," said Brienne. Her dark hair was bound away from her eyes with a silken headband so there was nothing to disguise the gleam of pleasure in her eyes. Fastion, taller and broader, was much more stoic but unbent enough to nod briefly in her direction.

"Clan Chief G'ladheon has asked that someone always be present with you when he is not with you himself," Somial said softly. "Upon their request, your king Zachary has agreed that the Black Shields may serve as your guard and your father has agreed to this."

Karigan felt her mouth fall gape open and shut it hastily. "But," she stammered, then shut her mouth again before she embarrassed herself further. She had almost protested that she didn't need a guard, but between King Zachary and her father's insistence, there was no point in arguing the matter. It would only wound someone's feelings.

I must be growing up, she thought ruefully, if I can be concerned about others' feelings when I am almost on my own deathbed. Instead, she looked at her friends. "Thank you," she said sincerely, trying to put the appreciation she felt in her words. Somial nodded in approval and the sweetness of his smile swept away a little bit more of the pervasive weariness laying over her.

Somial wrapped his hand gently around her crushed wrist. He did this so lightly that Karigan barely even felt the pressure of his slender fingers. He leaned over her to peer into her eyes. "It is best if you lie still and look into my eyes, Karigan." His expression remained compassionate, with just the slightest hint of inquiry.

She gazed up into his pewter eyes. The longer she looked into them, the more depth they acquired. Subtly shifting shades of silver and gray caught and held her gaze until they occupied the entirety of her attention. Warmth flooded her body in waves that emanated from his hand. All of a sudden, the room faded away completely and complete peace cradled her. The warm, silver flame that Karigan associated with Somial's presence flickered and then faded away to merge with her. A gentle pressure of memories and feelings foreign to her layered softly against her own. Most of them were so far outside of her own experiences that they meant nothing to her, but some few seem to cling and cause subtle changes. This disturbed her enough that she thought about pulling away and putting some distance between them.

Before she could turn the thought into action, her wrist ached sharply once and was soothed by the pulsating warmth. It ached again as if it were tugged firmly and again the sensation was soothed away. This pattern continued throughout her entire body. As the pain started to lessen for good, her body started to remember how it should look and feel on its own. She remembered the feel of hefting a sword with her right hand and how it was to use both hands in a task, such as saddling Condor. Then how it felt to move easily and smoothly on both legs, her thighs flexing under her in anticipation of the next shift of balance.

Along with these came other memories. She had never been any good at crafting or at playing an instrument, but she somehow remembered how it felt to do both with long and nimble fingers. She knew the joy of raising her voice harmoniously with others in celebration of the turn of the seasons and even the sharp scent of the plants used to make the soothing evalorean salve. She even knew the way it felt to learn and harness the gifts granted by one's nature.

Even lost in the healing trance, Karigan's eyes flew open wide. Somial's eyes widened simultaneously and the link between them was abruptly broken. He let go of her wrist like it burned him. "What was that?" she whispered, absently cradling her wrist. It still ached, but it was nowhere near as bad as the agony she remembered from the tombs.

Somial glanced away from her. "It is...a side effect of a healing of that nature," he said.

"I remember things I have never done," she said

"It should pass soon," the Eletian said. He started to get up and she reached out with her good hand to grab his arm.

"No," she said firmly. "What was that?"

His eyes met hers once again and she realized then that the sharing was two-sided. He remembered things she had done as if he had done them and it was as disorientating for him as it was for her.

"Please," she said. She let go of his arm as quickly as he had let go of her wrist. "I just want to understand."

"I do not know how much you will understand, but I will try." He sighed softly, the musical noise somehow soothing to Karigan's rattled nerves. "To Sacoridians, a true healing is magic. It is that, of a type, but it is also more." He grimaced briefly. "I do not like that word magic," he said firmly. "It is too vague a term for everything that you try to make it apply to. But a true healing uses the same focus and the same skills that any other type of magic uses. However, in order to heal someone, a healer must understand them. For one moment, their spirits are joined. They share emotions, knowledge and even actual memories and experiences. There is some danger in either the healer or the injured losing themselves in the other person, although this is very rare."

"So what happened just now..." Karigan trailed off.

"I had not thought to face that danger with you," he responded solemnly. "But we are similar enough despite our different backgrounds for our spirits to merge. You are not experienced enough to know how to separate yourself and I very nearly did not recognize the danger. I apologize, Karigan." Somial closed his eyes for a moment. "I think it best that you allow what is left of your injuries to heal at a natural pace, although they are few and no longer serious. You will regain full use of your hand, though," he said. "I made sure of that much."

Karigan nodded in dazed acknowledgment. "Please don't apologize. I can't thank you enough," she managed. She could still feel where his presence had pressed against hers, a distinctly foreign and yet utterly familiar sensation. His absence left a sort of hollow coldness behind that she knew no amount of warm blankets would fix. Helplessly, she looked up and caught his gaze.

Whatever he saw made him relent enough to settle back on the edge of her bed and wrap her in his arms. She returned the embrace wholeheartedly, unashamed of the tears stinging her eyes. "Karigan," he whispered in her hair. His arms tightened and then let her go. She forced her hands back at her sides. "It does get better."

She laughed a little shakily. "I hope so," she forced out. The smile that crossed her lips was genuine though. "Thank you so much," she said seriously. "I truly can't thank you enough."

His return smile was a little bit sad, she thought. "You have already done so much for us, Karigan. Giving you back the use of your wrist is little enough reward, with no permanent harm done. Keep it braced as you would a simple break for a few weeks, then take care working it back up to full strength."

"Are you leaving already?" the words tumbled out of her mouth.

"We have already been here for a week – but no," he said. "Not yet. I believe that Telagioth wants to forge a firmer alliance with your king."

"It's about time," she muttered under her breath.

Somial took his leave of her then, but the sound of his laughter lifted her spirits.

After he left, Karigan struggled to sit up. The effort totally exhausted her and she sagged back down in disgust. At least her wrist didn't hurt as badly as it used to. She glared at the offending appendage like it was the reason for her inability to sit. Muffled laughter drew her attention back to the doorway.

Strong hands braced and lifted her up as others arranged pillows to support her back. Before she knew what was happening, she was sitting up straight against the wall with two smug Weapons in front of her.

"Tsk," Fastion said, shaking his head sadly. "All she had to do was ask, sister," he said mournfully to Brienne.

Brienne mimicked the action, putting her hands on her hips as she stared at the Green Rider. "Maybe she doesn't realize that she has friends, brother," she said thoughtfully.

"Maybe she doesn't realize that we are her friends."

"Hmph."

"Or maybe she just forgot we were here."

Karigan looked from one mock stern face to the other in increasing confusion. "Aren't you supposed to be guarding the door?" The two stared at her with deadpan expressions until she writhed in embarrassment. "Oh, you know what I meant!" she exclaimed, laughing.

Fastion took pity on her. "There are two more Weapons outside of the door," he explained. "So long as no one is inside this room that requires us to breathe down their necks, we are mostly just here to keep you company."

"And make sure you have what you need," Brienne interjected. "Speaking of, you need something to eat."

As soon as she left the room in search of food, Fastion sat on the side of the bed where Somial had been sitting only a few minutes prior. Her face clouded over at the reminder. "Do you want me to move?" Fastion asked.

Karigan shook her head. To her surprise, tears welled up in her eyes and she fought to keep them from falling. "No," she finally managed.

"Did he hurt you, Karigan?" The question was serious. Karigan looked at her friend and saw no trace of the playful banter they often shared. There was only the Weapon now.

She was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "Did you hear what he told me?" and when Fastion replied in the negative she took a few minutes to repeat Somial's explanation. Slowly, the hard and unforgiving look in his hazel eyes was replaced with compassion and he covered her good hand with both of his own.

"It is good to know that you will be wholly healed, soon," he murmured.

That was all he said, but Karigan heard the happiness underneath his calm words.

"Maybe you can finally teach me that overhand block you keep telling me about," she grinned. "I'm beginning to wonder if it's real or made up."

He snorted. "Please. You've seen me use it."

After a few more minutes of banter, Karigan felt more like herself than she had since before the start of the Blackveil expedition. When Brienne returned bearing a tray of food, she was able to eat everything she was given. Nothing dented her high spirits. She was alive and surrounded by friends and loved ones and she felt infused by a fresh determination to end the problem Mornhavon posed for everyone once and for all.

Hopefully, this chapter makes up for the long wait between updates and the last chapter. Please feel free to let me know if there is anything in particular you love or hate about where this is going so far.

Thank you so much for all of your reviews and encouragement so far!