Rowan stood before her sister, sword in hand and a face full of joy and trepidation. She took a few tentative steps forward, flicking the blood off of Elan Fiir and sheathing the blade as she went. A large, incredibly well-muscled man intercepted her the moment it became clear she was making her way towards Tehri.

"Who are you?" he asked in an interrogatory tone.

"I could ask you the same thing, Master Byrden," Rowan challenged. She was taking a guess on his potential identity, but she doubted anyone else would dare step in her way after what she did to the Mandra that had been attacking them. He had the look of a father.

“You know who I am?” the man replied, confusion dancing across his face, It wasn’t enough to make him back down, however. Not yet.

“No, I have an idea who you could be. At some point over the past five years, you sent a letter to my father regarding the girl you are shielding. My name is Rowan, and Tehri is my little sister.”

Rowan couldn’t see Tehri behind the man. He was too large, but she could see everyone else. Most people didn’t react; they were far too busy courting a medley of shock and awe. The younger adolescent boy and the pregnant woman who were closest to where Tehri had been clearly understood the significance behind Rowan’s declaration. Wide eyes and open mouths. The woman even went so far as to gasp when Rowan mentioned Tehri’s name. When the echoes of her surprise faded away, the forest fell silent.

Byrden wasn’t moving. Rowan locked eyes with him. Then he hesitated, his tunic shifting unnaturally. Rowan saw the flash of strawberry blonde behind him. She couldn’t wait any longer. Byrden didn’t even have a chance to blink in the time it took Rowan to dance past him into Tehri’s arms.

The sisters were both crying. One silently and the other loud enough for the both of them.

“It’s okay, Tehri. We’re together again. I just wish I could have found you sooner.”

Tehri didn’t say anything in response. Instead, she squeezed Rowan tightly.

The boy who reacted to Rowan's declaration looked at her and said, “She doesn’t blame you. All this time, she never never lost hope. Now she knows it was worth it.” His tone was assuring, yet weary from experiences Rowan could only imagine.

“The letter said something about her voice?”

This time, Byrden spoke up, having visibly relaxed. “She's been unable to speak the entire time we've known her.”

Rowan doubled down on her embrace of Tehri, being careful not to squeeze too tightly. “Oh, Tehri.”

They continued to hold each other, stopping only when their eyes were free of tears and people started getting visibly impatient. When they parted, Tehri started gesturing with her hands. She was wearing the bracelet she had commissioned for the two of them.

A few gestures later, Tehri reached behind her neck with both hands. She seemed to be struggling for a second, but then she brought her hands back around, a fine silver chain in tow. Ever so slowly she presented Rowan with the same twin-moon pendant she gave Tehri when she told her to run all those years ago.

The tears returned; Rowan's eyes glistened.

“You still have it? Even now?”

Tehri nodded in response, but it was Byrden who gave her words form. “She had it when we found her. Now she's saying she wants to return it.”

“She did? How?”

“With her hands,” Byrden explained.

The pregnant woman, whom Rowan presumed to be Hana, continued. “We made a board for her to communicate with at first, but it was slow and impractical, so we started looking for alternatives. It took a while, but we eventually settled on sign language. Tehri has become quite proficient in it.”

Tehri beamed at the compliment. Then she proffered the necklace to Rowan again. Rowan wasn’t sure how to react, but she wasn't about to pull away like she had when they were younger. Instead, she bowed her head, effectively moving closer to Tehri.

Her eyes were closed, so she couldn't see what happened next, but she could feel the cold touch of the silver against her skin as Tehri reached around her neck to secure the necklace. When she felt the pendant settle, she opened her eyes again.

Tehri was smiling, and within seconds she started signing again.

“I can translate for you,” Hana offered.

“Thank you. I'll have to learn it myself at some point, but I'm no Linguist.”

“She's asking, ‘How did you find us, and why are you naked?’”

“I have clothes!” Rowan protested.

“Then you might want to wear them.” There was a gentle playfulness to Hana's response that was what took Rowan by surprise. Not only did it differ from the relatively neutral, albeit friendly, tone she had been using previously, the response was completely unprompted. It was all her. Tehri's hands were motionless. There was nothing to translate.

Normally, Rowan would object to being teased by a complete stranger, or she'd be too embarrassed to react. This time it was different, however. Instead of embarrassment or dismay, the familiarity of the teasing helped Rowan feel closer to the woman who had cared for Tehri all these years. More importantly, it was an indicator that she really had taken to the role of Tehri's guardian and surrogate mother.

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Of course, even without any real feelings of embarrassment, Rowan couldn’t just ignore Hana's teasing. She looked straight into Hana’s eyes and said, “These were the only clothes that were fast enough to keep up with me.”

The deadpan delivery of her retort would probably have landed better if she had said it immediately after Hana's or in place of her original protestation regarding Tehri's inquiry. Even so, Rowan took a small token of satisfaction from the question rising from the confusion in Hana's eyes.

“Huh?”

“I ran here from Næmyris,” Rowan explained.

“We must be pretty close then?” the still unnamed boy asked.

Rowan considered his question for a second, her eyes and lips forming the pointed sidelong expression typical of contemplation. “Depends on how you define ‘close’. If I were to guess, we're just over twenty miles from the edge of the forest and three miles between the forest and Næmyris. Took me maybe fifteen minutes?”

She said it so casually; like it was nothing. Admittedly for her, in that particular emotional context, it was. For the people of Aran Village, however, such feats were the stuff of legends. The likelihood any of them had seen an Ardent in action before Rowan was slim to none, and she had arrived with such explosive speed it would have been impossible for them to truly comprehend what she had done past killing the Mandra.

“I can escort you the rest of the way,” Rowan assured them. “If you can push through, we won't even need to stop for the night. As for how I found you, I'll explain once we're moving.” She then looked back at Hana and asked, “Can you still translate safely on the go, Hana?” The moment after asking the question, Rowan realised that she still didn't know for sure that the woman was actually Hana. “You are Hana, aren't you? Hana Kaafast?”

Hana's face widened in horror as she arrived at the same conclusion as Rowan. “I still haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm so sorry. I was so caught in the moment that the thought completely slipped my mind. You're right, though. I am indeed, Hana Kaafast.”

“I thought as much,” Rowan smiled. “Will it be safe for you to keep on translating? Actually, before you answer that, will Tehri be able to walk and sign? Safely that is?”

“Aye. On all three counts. Though my translations won't be quite so fluent.”

“That's fine. Shall we go then? It won't be long before something catches the Mandra's scent.”

There was a general nod of agreement amongst the villagers, and Rowan took the lead, slowly at first, in order to recount her experience.

*****

Rowan spent much of the first hour telling the story about her own experiences with the storm and her discovery of the letter Tehri had sent. She continued with her crazy plan to reach an impossibly high vantage point and how the execution of said plan almost ended in disaster. Finally, she told them of the run.

In addition to telling her story, Rowan also answered a few innocuous questions whilst making sure no one tripped on the undergrowth. That was the first hour. By the end of it. Rowan concluded they were moving too slowly. If they were going to make it to Næmyris before it was too late, they would need to pick up the pace.

It took them another three hours of hard marching to reach the safe zone, where they were greeted by a group of rangers who agreed to escort them to the edge of the forest. Alas, ignoring the addition of the rangers, all the border into the safe zone did was highlight that they were barely halfway to Næmyris. It was already dark.

Another two hours and Rowan was running on spent embers. The only things keeping her going were her heightened emotions, copious amounts of adrenaline, and a need to ensure Tehri was home safe. It was a similar feeling to what she felt during her escape from the caves.

Fortunately, the journey through the safe zone was much less treacherous, and they soon traded the arboreal canopy for the celestial. Rowan had to stop the villagers from sighing in relief. It was still too soon for them to relax. One more hour.

If it wasn’t so late by the time they entered Næmyris proper, Rowan would have taken them to get a change of clothes before guiding them to an inn. As it were, they'd have to make do with what they had for a little while longer.

With clothes shopping not being an option, Rowan set a course for The Crimson Drakiir. It was the largest inn in town, and she knew the innkeeper would resonate with the villagers and their plight. She also knew Seres, Lochlan, and Liadra would be there. Lastly, the inn was pivotal to the next stage of her plan for restoring the spirit of Næmyris.

Rowan couldn't undo the devastation of five years past. She didn't even consider it an option. Instead, she planned on inspiring the townsfolk with a shard of remembrance tomorrow. Where the raiders had spirited away their hearts, Rowan would give them a song. Alas, before Rowan could sing, she had to inspire a different memory.

It took Rowan and the villagers a total of seven and a half long, arduous hours to finally reach The Crimson Drakiir. They were all exhausted. So much so that the majority fell to their knees the moment they entered the inn’s warm and inviting common room. Rowan envied how they must have seen the inn. To them, it was a haven. To her, it was a shadow of what it had once been. A faded painting.

The innkeeper's face turned white the moment he saw Rowan. He was paler than a ghost.

“Long time no see, Master Reiman,” Rowan said warmly. He was older than she remembered, though nowhere near as much as her father had been.

"Is that really you, Rowan?" he asked. His voice was coarse.

Rowan smiled brightly. "The one and only.”

Whispers raced across the common room floor, and for a second, the air felt more vibrant.

"We heard the rumours, and there were people saying that someone with crimson hair had run through the town, and others described the person flying out in the field. I… can't believe it's really you. I'm not sure I want to. Have you seen my boy? Is he alive?”

His question about Ros pained her even more than the acknowledgement that he might not want to believe his eyes. The answer was just as painful, and she knew it would hurt the old innkeeper, but lying would be far too cruel. She had to tell him.

"I'm sorry, Master Reiman. I haven't seen him in over a year. He was still very much alive, however, and I'm sure he's still out there. He was incredibly strong.”

Reiman's expression flickered between hope and despair. “I see.”

“I'll find him, along with everyone else that's still out there,” Rowan promised. “Then I'll help them find their way home. I've already found Tehri.”

There was another flash of recognition from the innkeeper and the other patrons. This time, the vibrancy, trifling as it was, did not fade.

“Alas, such quests are a work in progress. For now, I need rooms for the people here with me. They're refugees from Aran Village. You don't need to worry about the cost. I've got it all covered. Could you also send for either Mister Lochlan Rein or Miss Liadra Talen Rein, please? They should be staying here, and I need them to collect me as I'm about to pass out. Good night.”

The moment she stopped speaking, Rowan released her hold on her body. She was asleep before she hit the floor.