Run. I had to run.
Well, walk. I had to walk. The horse was gone. It was not there, where Davick had tethered it.
I have my bag. I have my clothes and my ink and my journal. I even have the book on herbs and remedies. No horse, though, and no wolf.
I had wondered if the ghosts had taken them; the horse and the wolf. They whisper to me that they will have all in time. Nothing is safe. No-one is safe. The shades of this ruin seek more than what they have. I had wondered and then...
Then I received a sign. It came from the sky. It fell into my hands. It came on a wing and a cry. That hawk that has plagued our steps from the beginning, now bringing the most terrible omen. A ring, a band of gold; so simple yet so meaningful. A golden ring strung upon the strap of a black eyepatch.
Are they in trouble?
The whispers in the dark say that they are. They laugh at my fear, cackle at my worry. Save them, they say without words. Save them if you dare.
Do I dare? I have to dare. I have nothing else. Nothing left to lose, nowhere left to run.
Davick would tell me to go, but he is gone. I know now. I hold his eyepatch. He would not give that up willingly. And the ring... whose ring? Why do I hold these things if I am not meant to return them to their owners?
To Bree-land, then.
