6. Nilda Meyrick: The trials of starting anew

I've not written for Nilda ever since her amnesia, yet several impacting events have happened since and I found the drive to start writing them into a story of everything that occured. Quite the long read and I'm -still- not used to writing from first person PoV. But must.keep.practising!!

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Shouts echoed around me as I sat on the small secluded docks in the far back of the Stormwind harbour, the workers gathering their belongings to put an end to a long shift or workday. The sounds of their labour dying out with a final resonating horn being blown to announce the last departing ship. And then it was quiet, only the sloshing of water against the banks heard while I relished the serenity of the sea stretched out before me.

Time and time again I would return to this spot, holding memories that tugged at the blank and dark corners of my mind, memories I couldn't recall yet I knew they held importance somehow. Impacting events or simply moments that I once held dear. That I didn't know. So I came back, hoping that perhaps one of these visits would eventually grant me clarity, remembering. Ever since I had lost the three years that had turned into an innaccesible fog in my mind there I have created new memories. Septimus Helmheid, a fellow Crusader, Archmage. Afflicted with the same amnesia as myself, had found me here. Together we had spoken of the things we lost, trying to remember the past, it resulted in nothing. We had once been part of the same regiment, felt no particular likeness for eachother. Or atleast I hadn't, from what he managed to recall. Caught up in my duties and the unravelling events involving both Nygarth and Morty.

I knew that story quite well, they both had made sure that I was told, repeatedly so. Eventually I stopped caring, stopping hurting over the fact that I was unable to conjure the memories of those that used to hold my heart and affections. And as time passed, I stopped caring overall. Alone and lost I wandered around, loose ties and broken bonds kept me nowhere. There was no place to return to, no home and family. Friends I had forgotten about didn't move me.

These docks, the only thing I felt connected to instead, kept pulling me back. Thinking about my past and possible future, only to come out blank time and time again. Stubborn, why didn't I simply give up on it all? The sea was deep, cold and dark. It could end it all so easily. I never did, despite feeling weak I held a fire inside me, a will to fight and survive that sometimes even scared me. Fuelled by this -curse- I had found to be my own, the form of power and ferocity that turned me into a hulking beast at my own will.

Instead of dwelling on my thoughts I began to resort to combat and fighting, nearly every spare moment of my time spent in trainingrings, sparring and cleaving wooden constructs in half. Shredding endless amounts of dummies for the purpose of tiring my body. Strenghtening the only thing that I could remember. Combat. A physical memory, better than nothing that gave me some form of purpose. To cling on to the one thing I managed to recall, the feeling of rush and adrenaline each time the burning sensation made itself master over my aching muscles. And that thick taste of instincts on my tongue, forcing me to control myself and the beast threatening to escape and make my body explode in a mass of fur, claws and fangs. The thrill was new and exciting. There was no denying to this, deep down I relished what I was. What I was capable of doing and how enhanced my strengths had become.

Several times I had travelled, north towards the bordering lands to Hillsbrad. I couldn't return home so instead I went back to the one things I was told to have become something similar in the past. Even if I couldn't remember I still tried to find that spark of recognision, dwelling in and around Stromgarde regularly - to no avail. Instead I was asked to help, giving me something to do aside from the constant pointless training that hadn't resulted into a useful ability yet. Track down Vincent Whitecastle, stay close, gain his trust. And bring him down. I genuinely didn't care when I accepted this, why would I? A person I once -supposedly- was tortured by, that had harmed people I was meant to know but had forgotten about. Nonetheless I accepted. The coldness I had felt didn't change and I simply figured I could use some distraction, a possible challenge.

A challenge it indeed became, and the awakening I had been craving. Even if I didn't know this yet.
The Ember Offensive was my eventual first goal to infiltrate, not a very difficult task I have to admit. I was simply welcomed in under a false name and easily noticed the lack of structure and discipline around me. It was mildly annoying but I was where I was meant to be. I wouldn't honesty remember how I kept my calm and lied my way through towards any form of acceptance after I was recognised off the bat by Vincent himself. The truth did the trick however, I felt nothing, I didn't care and I had lost all memories of value to tie me to anything or anyone. Never would have thought that it would play in my favour as it did at that moment.

It was meant to be so simple and easy, stay close and eventually make sure the Arathorians could trap him and be done with it. Must've been my horrible luck that in the end things got just ten times worse. A mercenary band showed up, infact: two of them did. That is when hell broke lose and I had to act and think -fast-. Vincent got recognised by one of the Blade-members and went on a run, he could have been out of my sight permanently if it wasn't for the sheer incompetence of the Offensive and others around. Again I lied, I deceived them into believing I could find him. Which I of course did, by the earlier obtained trust he revealed his location to me and I went to track him down. This is where I essentially put myself into a greater danger than I had ever anticipated.

I vowed loyalty to him, swore an oath to his band of assasins called “The Ravenholdt Sanctuary”, now that I had gotten myself this close I had no intention of having him slip away and I'd pursue the goal no matter what I had to do. But I had to ensure my own safety aswel. Had to make certain that I wouldn't be seen as truly one of them myself.
Back in Dun Morogh I freed Kay, sent her back to our “master” and began weaving the deception of having lost track of Vincent. I wouldn't have a large group of mercs interfering with my position while everything had been going according to plan. Timna was my contact and the only one who knew exactly what I was up to, so her pressence was welcomed greatly when I came back and saw her there. Atleast I could immediatly bring her up to speed on matters and was told to write my declaration of loyalty for future refferences.

The next step would be informing the one person pointed out as trustworthy by her, within the Blades for Hire who would become my contact in time. Remai D'waltir.
He would keep his people away from Vincent untill I could give him the word that they could move and act, and I added him as the second witness to my letter. I hadn't counted upon the fact that he was actually someone I was meant to remember from the forgotten years. “Sarge” he called me, but what did I really care? This man, as charismatic as he tried to be, meant nothing to me. His approaches fell on deaf ears. There was only one thing worthy of my focus now, and that was staying alive to bring my task to a succesfull end.

From there on I simply had to wait from word from Vincent himself, staying in Stormwind to fall back into the same dull routine I had before. Untill finally his letter came. Somehow now I wish it never did. That I was left forgotten by him and all of the Ravenholdt. But back then I was glad that I was called upon, travel north to the Wetlands and meet with the Vulture himself. As always our meetings were short, I wasn't one to be elaborate in information and avoided often to be very open in matters. I thought it to be the best way so he wouldn't become suspicious of me. Admittedly I was tempted by his philosophies and views on things, it was actually fitting for my current mindset but I had promised something to Timna. Forgotten and no longer the close friend she supposedly once was, I still held value to my word.

I was renamed, meant to be reformed and trained again. A name of which it's meaning I would find out not much later.

Dread, a third name. And the second to mark me as someone who I wasn't. Then again, I didn't feel as Nilda Meyrick either. The girl I couldn't be anymore with everything that had come to pass. Gone in the darkness of my semi-empty mind I had no connection to that girl that grew up on the farms of Hillsbrad. Tessandra was an alias, a personality I adapted to my current position which suited me best. And Dread, she became the spy within the Ravenholdt Organisation.

Luckily for me I was told to remain in Stormwind, find new recruits for the manor up north to be trained and bolster the numbers of the Ravenholdt. And track down a woman by the name Shandrea, thankfully I had no need to look far. I knew she was a member of the Blades and from there on my cover became more secure. I managed to convince Vincent that I was spying on the Blades instead. While in truth I just stayed close to them to pass on every bit of information that I could obtain in regards to Vincent, waiting for that perfect moment to strike. The cost of this was painful, the man who went as Dread before me made sure that I could pretend that I had given effort in completing my task. With fractured ribs and gashes on several locations I informed Vulture of my “failure” to grab Shandrea for him and got told to try again, yet this time I was meant to kill Tyriez in the process.

Amongst all this madness, I met someone who started the most impacting change since my amnesia. Kriston Roche. For once I didn't feel surrounded by stupidity or people who kept trying to remind me of who I was. Finally there was someone who valued and appreciated who I had -become- instead. Regardless of my cold behaviour, my distant act of keeping everyone at bay. Perhaps I grew fond of him too fast and too soon, perhaps I needed some support desperatly in all the stress I was caught in. One step wrong and I would afterall find death sooner than I'd wish. So I trusted this stranger, spend hours on these very docks that I found solace at. For the first time in months I finally spoke of my fears, my burdens and my dreams again.The first cracks within my cold mask began to show. My desperate wish to end the double-life of spying on Vincent began to grow stronger the more dangerous things were getting.

The facade remained and more got involved steadily, Remai who -in his own way- became someone to lean on when things got rough. The general bantering and teasing was something that atleast kept my mind of things, however faked it may have been. I had no reason to be jolly or in a good mood, it only weakened my resolve to keep distance of things and remain rational. I should have known I was never meant to remain the “cold bitch” I was called by Nygarth before.
Kriston started it all, feeling warmth and affection in his pressence, Remai becoming a friend I actually started to trust genuinely. But it didn't stop there, while I tried to figure out my feelings towards Kriston the most prominent worry of fearing my death didn't fade. The wish to start up a new life once all this was over and find my way again, build new memories. Aslong as Vincent remained alive my task wasn't at an end and I couldn't move on.

Travelling back and forth between my life as a faceless and nameless assasin and the life of a pretence mercenary I felt how I started to feel more and more stressed and anxious. I didn't know how long this would last and how long I would have to struggle for my safety. As often as I could I sought out Kriston, and if he wasn't available I came to the docks to clear my mind.
On one of such nights I found myself not alone, an elf had found his way to the very docks I needed for privacy and seclusion. It aggrovated me, how he acted superiour and condescending and thus I gave him the same attitude in return, just wishing him to take his leave and let me be.

Now, I have never understood or liked magic before that. Preferring weapons I can hold physically and can anticipate where they will strike in a fight. But meeting this elf had simply resulted in a full out hatred towards everything magical. The use of his spells had me nearly drowned and my mind and body altered with false sensations and emotions. I hated every second of it, every second that I couldn't offer resistance to his tricks. And I haven't forgotten, some day I shall have my revenge.

Events unfolded rapidly within only a few weeks, while I was acting as Vincent's eyes in Stormwind and kept him informed with anything I found out. I did the same for the Blades in regards to the Ravenholdt. In the middle of all this Kriston and I tried to establish a friendship, a relationship of sorts even. I believe it could have been called, I liked his embrace, the few stolen kisses and affection that came with his company. I cherished it.

If only things were that simple.

Without a doubt I couldn't stand him, Azarion. Rude, mean and too arrogant for his own good. His mere pressence made me want to punch a wall, or preferably his face or something. At first he mostly annoyed me by how he seemed to be treating Feral. A worgen amongst the Blades to whom I had started to feel a certain degree of friendship, or tolerance maybe. I was more a tolerance sort of person, not the friend-type.
Things only got for the worse when we left for an excursion to Kalimdor, I went along with the Blades under the pretence I was trying to get closer to Tyriez and Shandrea. In truth I wanted to be with Kriston who was part of the Freelancers who had organized it. Not only had Azarion greatly pissed me off by trying to kiss me in a drunken haze after throwing up on my feet, he persisted in his remarks and attempts afterwards.

Those few days spent in Darnassus and Darkshore simply can't be described. While I spent my evenings and nights with Kriston, talking and holding eachother. My days were spent around the Blades, Feral and Azarion mostly, aside from Remai. My injuries still hindered me, the fractured bones being the greatest obstacle when having to walk and jump across ravaged landscapes. If I have to be honest this is probably where Az began to confuse me, his teasing and advances made me usually furious. But his asshole behaviour was greatly contradicted each time he helped me out. Even carrying me when I no longer was able to stand on my own.
Logically I would have stayed away from him but in this case I had the horrible luck that he was one of the people of the Blades I had to trust. I had to explain my situation to him and what I was doing, making him another one meant to protect me. Even if Remai had already made sure that was exactly what the Blades were doing, the badge he had given me marked me as such. Without even being aware of that.

What I yet had to realize however was that I refused to admit that I -wanted- to be near him, that something was drawing me closer to him. I'd have rather dropped dead than aknowledge the possibility so instead allowed my so called hate to grow. Especialy fuelled the day he kissed me so suddenly that I was too slow to react and pull away. Obviously I put blame upon the surprise of such act instead of some very hidden desire to actually kiss him in return. Kriston warned me repeatedly, told me he didn't trust him at all, yet at the same time I had no choice but to rely on him. I needed protection and any form of aid I could get aslong as the matter of Vulture was going on. Feral was also convinced that Azarion was “good.”

The entire expedition was thankfully over soon, yet not without any form of drawback. The last day when we headed into the sunken caverns in Ashenvale ended badly. I would have preferred going along with Kriston's group yet Azarion had different plans and made sure I was kept away instead. Being put into his own group he appeared too damn smug about taking me and denying me the time I wanted with Kriston. Afterwards this actually ended up being in my own favour. Ontop of my already slow healing injuries my entire back was charred and burnt. Due to lingering cultists deep within the caves that were protecting the artifacts we were meant to find. Yet when Kriston finally came back to our camp, hours after everyone else had made their way back he was bordering on death. Together with White, the mage that had been with him. Both had sustained severe lethal injuries that left them out cold and bleeding severely.

Reluctantly I accepted the offer of Azarion that evening to sleep in his tent since I had not prepared any place for myself, assuming I would once again remain with Kriston. Again he was there when I needed him to be, after already clearing my wounds from shadowy magic taint and I still refused to let down on my hatred. I believe at that point I finally started losing my nerves. The next day we had to travel back and I wasn't only worrying about my own life repeatedly, ontop of that there was Eodan, Tyriez and Shandrea that I tried my best to keep safe and out of the hands of the Ravenholdt and now Kriston was so severely injured it added ontop of my worries. And the mess inside my head didn't improve with the aggrovating pressence of Az, I just couldn't figure out why I was unable to simply stay away from him.

A raven came for me, turning my whole world upside down out of the fear I felt from the words on the letter it carried. I had to get back to the manor as soon as possible, report the findings or else find my head removed. Vincent didn't handle things kindly, each mistake severely punished. The same went for Warlord, the one who was meant to tutor and train me. Something that thankfully never occured or he may have stayed true to the threat he made the first time I met him as the “new Dread”. Failing to fall in line and bend the knee would have a high risk of him allowing all men of the Sanctuary to have their way with me. Something which left a rather bitter taste and a desire for vengeance would I ever be able to get close to him.

This must have been where I lost the ability to remain cold, even as strongwilled as I was I couldn't help but cry. Tears staining my face when I said my goodbye to those who I had started to genuinely care about. Kriston and our hopes of leaving Stormwind once my infiltrating part was over, start anew and build a life of my own. Feral, who had found the sincere ability to care about me and worry when I told him I'd perhaps never return. Perhaps the stick he gave me was the trick that kept me alive, or perhaps the encouragement I needed to not give in just yet. And of course, again Azarion. Ready to help and just for a moment not act like a complete asshole, taking the rings I must once have held dear to use them as personal possessions for my safety to be able to scry, would things perhaps get out of hand. There was little suprise to the fact that he kissed me before I took my leave, even if I wanted to yell at him for such boldness I was too caught up within my own fears.

I knew that once I managed to return alive I had to put an end to this.

And an end finally came, even while I didn't know where I was going I was called away with the Blades only to find Vincent himself trapped within a cage. Surrounded and alone, this was it! My heart must have been beating too fast to be healthy, realizing that I could pick up a life once this was done. The remnants of the Sanctuary are still out there, I've tried pointing them out ever since Vincent had been killed but the law has too many flaws to keep those who I recognised behind bars. Perhaps in due time I'll be aknowledged as a proper informant regarding the events. I'm guessing it's a vain hope however.

In the midsts of the euphoria of Vincent's death and too much whiskey, we celebrated. The weeks of worrying and stress fell of my shoulders like a heavy-weight burden being lifted off me. I was careless and didn't keep up the same amount of resolve against Azarion when he advanced once more on me. This time I did respond to his kiss, hazed by the joy and the intoxication of the alcohol, still stubbornly denying that I wanted this myself. And Kriston, I knew I had to push Azarion away or I would lose him. Just couldn't find the will to do exactly that. Instead I just made things worse.

Shortly after Vincent's long-due death we headed out with one of the Blades, now also one of them myself. Chasing down some angered dwarves that tried to come after Bovil, and lucky for us this had to be a magic-tricking one of course. Traps were littered around the area and in one of the cases where Az had been inflicted with some severe depressed negative emotion, I did the first thing that came to mind. For once I took the initiative and went to kiss him, hoping that he had done so for a reason in the past and not only to mess with me so it could offer the chance to have him snap out of it. It worked, luckily. I'd not have been able to stand trying something like that and bear no results. That situation just couldn't last forever, having come to the realisation I somewhere deep down longed for Azarion in a different way than I cared about Kriston I knew it was time to tell Kris about it all. I should perhaps not have kept it from him to begin with, but I did not know how bad things had gotten in this case. But it had showed me something I had refused to see while I felt the comfort in Kris' embrace before.

I belonged where I already was, leaving Stormwind would mean leaving my children because I couldn't tear them away from Morty regardless of what had happened. The safe and comfortable life that Kris had offered together with him in Theramore had lost all it's appeal once V had been killed.
My state of mind, the stress, it had pushed me into wishing for such safety. While without it I knew that deep down in my heart I had no desire to leave. I didn't want to know what would happen the next day. I liked the unknown and adventure, a fighter and warrior, that's what I had become and who I also was before. In this entire disaster of broken hearts I finally managed to find a part of myself -properly- while I had lost all hope to ever discover who I was.

The leap I took with Azarion was perhaps one of the greatest unknown risks I could remember in my life. A decision of which the impact I hardly could have anticipated. I didn't start to love him straight away but once I finally admitted to my attraction and noticed the small things of his affection he grew on me rapidly. Perhaps the barrier that had kept me so anxious was giving in to the more physical side of things, something that I was actually fearing to do. Afterall I had birthed two children and couldn't even remember my very first kiss at all. Let alone being able to remember how to be with a man in such way. For all theoretical purpose I was clueless and innocent. Things turned for the better, I wasn't going to bother with the lack of revealed emotions on his part. I liked having him with me, the bantering and once alone the intimacy. I didn't know what future we could have together but at that point, with things finally having calmed down, I cherished the little things I could get.

Little did we know that the pleasant time we had was going to be shortlived, the moments in the bar. Drinking and joking around, getting actual friends again. Ones that didn't keep trying to shove stories into my face of who I was and what I did in those years that I couldn't remember.

The ones who had left the scene of V's death of Ravenholdt one by one appeared in the city. Thanks to the anymosity during my infiltration I could safely go and point them out, but with no results at all. My word wasn't taken as enough proof and eventually guards just let criminals walk freely on the streets. My protest against such incompetent behaviour was immediatly punished by getting lashed, sedition. It infuriated me, I wanted the lawsystem to act and do so properly, not by the hands of guards who lack the braincells to know their protocol. Instead I got treated as worthless trash for the simple sake of wearing the colours of mercenaries. Had I really risked my life for -this-?

Getting lashed was generally already a painful punishment, but at that moment I already had fresh wounds on my lower back that Azarion's claws had raked into my skin. And the Disciple who was tasked in handing out my punishment turned out to be a sadistic bastard. Purposely aiming the whip down onto the gashes to make things worse than they had to be. Despite stubbornly wishing to not make a single sound the pain was simply too much and my screams were probably heard a good distance away from the garrison. Adding to my growing dislike and distrust towards the whole system and the law for being hurt and injured by those who I tried to protect in a sense by risking my life.

What happened after that was something I wasn't prepared for, despite having been stupid enough to tell Azarion I loved him in a moment of passion – only to be denied somewhat- we never spoke of feelings much when we were together. So when he quite unexpectedly and without hesistation told me he loved me after he had healed up my wounds I stood frozen in place. Not only was I shocked that he had begun feeling the same way, I was taken aback that he even dared to tell me. Opened up enough to let me know that he cared about me. No, loved me. Where things had been vague and uncertain it now made room for joy and relief. Having had feelings for someone you weren't sure about would ever feel something in return was something frightening.

It took me some getting used to, the very small significant changes it had brought. Publicly taking my hand, or even hugging me. It was something he'd not have done previously, he told me that having seen me in such pain and being lashed had made him realise. Doubts easily faded when knowing that my love wasn't unrequitted, it wouldn't have been easy to come to the conclusion I had given up on something with a clear and obvious good future for something that would turn out in heartache. Perhaps part of that thrill had lured me in, the fact that he was such a mystery to me. And of course, admittedly, Az was more than pleasant to look at. What I first saw as intolerable arrogance had become a more appealing trait of his. He was confident and he managed to draw me in with that more and more. A challenge perhaps? I didn't mind getting teased and taunted once the emotions were out in the open, knowing he did it because of how he felt now.

There was no reason for me to complain, of course it was a bumpy path with us. Both quite the explosive characters at times, things could get quite heated easily. Needless to say that exactly that fire is what made things more intriguing and eventually passionate. It was good to take it slowly, explore eachother and the fact of being “us”

Untill the next sudden catalyst that pushed us more together than we probably both could ever have imagined.

With great hopes of justice finally getting done I went to the trial of Allonia a few weeks ago. Hoping that my deeds would be rewarded at last and we'd get rid of some of the traitors that had joined Vincent and his Sanctuary. What happened on the trial however was something I never would have expected. Entirelly unrelated to the whole case I stood as witness for I was arrested and immediatly sentenced to death. At that point I wasn't even aware what the attack was they found me guilty off, dragged down to be locked up and await the day of my execution I felt my whole world crashing down on me.

- Continued writing after a pause, final part below -

Not even given a chance to defend myself, bring forth the ones who had come with me to verify my testimony I couldn't keep track of what was happening. Grasping the logic of what I was told just was impossible overall. The evening prior to the trial, Rae Wulfgnar had come to the Pig to ask for my help. Bearing a letter mentioning a Disciple who had been caught by the Sanctuary. What disturbed me at that moment was the large “V” signed at the bottom. It was Vincent's style of signature, but seeing as I had witnessed his death and saw Humphry with the head afterwards I figured it may have been a trick to try and create some panic.
Now, at the trial, that exact letter had been used against me. That -I- had forged it and then there was some illogical jump towards me being part of some attack on the Garrison. Where was the proof of my guilt? Why wasn't I allowed to defend myself and let people proof I had no part in this?

Azarion was there with me, and for the first time he showed fear. Tears. I needed him to be strong, needed him to show me everything would turn for the better. But his tears spoke otherwise at that moment, not only did I realize he truly did love me, I simply lost hope with them. If he cried things must be dire, and I couldn't think clear enough to come to the conclusions I'd find not much later. Once the first devastating blow settled down and I spent my nights and days in the cells of the Garrison I began talking to Rae. Az came to visit repeatedly and we did all we could to figure out what exactly had happened. If there even was a way out of this I simply didn't see it, what I did start to see however was the fact that I was being used. Used as bait for whomever had done this for real. They mentioned the Blades, Remai. But had no proof, I'm sure they never did since they had not put any of us under arrest. Here I sat, waiting for execution for something I couldn't possibly have done, at the time it happened I was in Darnassus. With Kriston, -and- the Blades.

Sitting in a prison easily makes you forget the flow of time, I had no idea when it was night or day aside from starting to pay attention to footsteps. The more there were the more likely it was to be noon, when it was quiet then it was certainly night. Even with some numbers staying awake for their nightly shifts I figured out their routines fast enough to moderatly keep track of it. Not that it mattered, I didn't sleep. Or barely did, my mind was buzzing constantly. Trying to find out how to solve this, how to get out of this mess before I would be killed. Azarion kept reassuring me that it wouldn't happen, and I tried desperatly to believe him. Yet it sounded sometimes as if he tried to convince himself even more of that fact.

A bath would be waiting for me at home, Sarah and Garvian would see me again. I wouldn't die.

It would be ironic, surviving the most known and dangerous assasin-band under Vincent's leadership only to then be killed by the justicesystem merely because they can. It did not take long to become bitter, aggrovated and angry. Stubborn as I was I didn't want to show how scared I actually had become. How little hope I had to see a positive ending to this whole scenario. I reacted in the only way I could react, vented my frustrations to the one person who did try to help. So many names were mentioned, endless amounts of stories mixing untill there simply was no more logic.
In the meantime Braiden was gone, on a holiday with his wife I was told. Not that I held any respect for the man who had blindly thrown me down into the cells before, but after hearing that I wanted to do nothing else but tear his throat open. How he had the guts to leave me in a situation like this and not care wether or not the right justice was handed out as -minister- of justice was beyond me.

Days seemed much longer than before, sitting in that square space with no way out or means to distract myself aside from the visits from Azarion. Thankfully I was allowed to walk on a chain after a few days and granted the brief moments of something resembling peace with him. I was convinced these would come to an end soon. Aside from worrying over the fact that my children would grow up without a mother, like I had, I began to weep at night in silence. Knowing that my life would be taken from me so shortly after I had managed to find my path again. The calmth I had managed to keep during my days as a spy inside the Sanctuary was gone, I couldn't manage to stay distant and detached. This time around it all got to me and tore my senses to pieces, the worry and fear. The anger and rage that consumed me more each passing day.

When I was told that Remai was most likely the one who had committed the crime I was being accused of I felt as if I'd lose it. I had trusted him and he knew what I had risked before to help, letting me rot away to die now that I actually needed his help more than before. Now I somewhat feel ashamed of having thought so badly of him, that I was so eager to accept that he was guilty. Everyone was there for me, Eodan even risking punishment by his petition against Braiden. I wanted to hug him for the initiative, for everything he was doing and how he was looking after Sarah and Garvian for me. But things began to clear up somewhat, hope was coming back to me and I was too scared to lose this case. Admittedly, I still did not see how my doubtful infiltration to the Ravenholdt was held in connection to the letter and an unrelated attack on the Garrison. Especially not when the first would be forgotten and discarded once the latter would get solved. My life was in jeopardy and I was the one with the least information. I wasn't told which evidence they held against me. I wasn't given a fair trial and I never got to see Braiden in regards to it all.

If it weren't for Azarion I may have given up long before the end was near, if it wasn't for him atleast trying to be my support and strength I'd have crumbled and stop caring overall. What point was there in fighting for justice when it was all too clear that justice wasn't even involved in the case? Criminals walking free because clearly a pregnant woman wasn't able of being a criminal, my word, my work I had done didn't mean anything simply because those who could testify for my sake were shoved aside as poor witnesses. Timna never even showed up to help, or to see me. So much for having ever listened to her and help. If it wasn't for her I'd not even have been at the trial, if not for her...
As the days passed I grew more and more restless, answers were given but they varied from one day to the other. Information was never consistent and never making any sense to me. Rae got the worst of my hatred, helping me or not. He simply followed Braiden's orders like a meek puppy that doesn't have a voice of his own, keeping a blind eye to the clear wrong he was doing. There's no doubt for me that he was aware all along that I was innocent, but never spoke up. Yes, he helped. No, he probably never confronted Braiden about how wrong his acts were. And I couldn't.

Everything combined just gave me a never-ending headache. My thoughts were grim and dark, depressing at best but I kept a brave facade towards those who came to visit. Eodan, Feral, Eloresh, even Kitt and Humphry. If anything I think it was good to know that besides Azarion there were more that cared about me. Thinking back to it now I probably treated half of them too harshly, too wound up from the stress and too much time spent alone in my cell thinking and brooding.

But then it was over, just as suddenly as it started.

When Rae opened my celldoor and told me that “it was time” my heart froze and I could barely breathe. The colour from my face drained away entirelly. As I moved it felt as if I was watching from above, the whole scene so surreal and making my head spin that I couldn't even register walking up the stairs or seeing and hearing everyone there questioning what was happening. This was it, this was the end. After all the waiting and hoping all the attempts had failed to free me and I was walking for the final time.

“You're free to go”

Rae's voice sounded so far away, my mind had gone in a protective mode of self-preservation and it took me way too long to let it sink in. Was it really over? Did I just imagine him saying that out of hope that perhaps this was all a dream afterall? No, this was happening. Sudden and poorly conveyed, but it was happening. I was free at last. If only my mind would have understood the meaning faster I probably would have ran out without a second thought. Instead that same anger built inside me once more, towards Rae. After -everything- he had to decide to have me nearly faint out of fright? After claiming he was helping, making me believe he could be trusted he simply couldn't come to my cell and announce I was to be released?
And Braiden, he didn't have the decency to come apologize and explain at all?

Once again it was Azarion who kept me together, who held me to let the impact of it all reach me. Tears streaming down my face in realisation that I was going to go home, that I was going to hold my children again. In his arms I felt peaceful despite the turbulent emotions coursing through me I could feel that our bond had grown stronger over the one and half week that we scarcely had been together. The danger and situation had made our relationship take such a leap forward, and I knew that I wouldn't let go of him again. Nor would he let go of me.

“I am glad you are not dead”

Feral's voice sounded behind Azarion, how often did he speak that very same sentence to me now? Too often to my liking, but I cherished hearing it. Yes, I am glad too. I am glad that you are glad Feral. And I am glad that I have such friends as you.
Did I say those words to him? Can't remember anymore now. Thinking back of everything I can feel the memories slip away steadily. The stress that had strained my mind made it hard to keep track of such chaotic events overall. As if I had been pulled from one thing into the other repeatedly, it's deffinatly certain that I prefer a good physical beating over the mental strain I had gone through.

It's over now, for the time being. And I can reflect on it as much as I like yet come out blank. Here on the same docks that I have sought out so many times before. For months I have visitted this very spot, fretting over memories that I had forgotten. And now I came to clear my mind instead of trying to grasp the darkness that I couldn't keep a hold on to.

All I want is simply to keep going forward from here, with Azarion. My children, the Blades and my friends. And if I'll manage to take down Braiden while doing so, I will not hesistate at all. I'm stubborn as a Meyrick, afterall.

Probably a little bias, but i really enjoyed reading this :>

And updated with the final part! Red marker from where I left off ^^

\o/ Nice!

I for one are glad the justice system failed concerning Ravenholdt in prison after Vulture's death. If it had not, my characters head would have rolled XD

Well written

LOVE IIIIIIT!!!!!!

You're on mister! :>
*Hires Blades to go on a "job"*

Your writing just keeps getting better and better, hun! And I enjoyed the story very much!!

Also, fun and scary to see my name mentioned! I had no idea about all this until a few days ago when Ty told me.. xD