Lyrus, at Your Service

Shadowheart was alone. She stayed in Wyrm’s Lookout for a while. It was stupid, really, but Shadowheart couldn’t make herself move. A tiny voice in the back of her mind convinced her that Elody might come looking for her.

People said that, when you are lost, you should stay in one spot.

In her dreams, the library taunted her. What used to be a sweet place full of memories was now an archive of loss, a constant reminder of what she grieved.

For a few nights, she had sat on the settee, immobile and afraid to move. She had then begun to scroll through every book and map, looking for something.

Anything to prove Elody hadn’t lied to her.

Did she really love Shadowheart? Was it all a sick joke?

You deserve to be alone. Who would love someone who has caused such hurt?

The thoughts were Shadowheart’s new friends. They occupied the library and kept her company while she tried her best to endure the memories kept safe in the room. If only she could’ve forgotten! It would have been so much easier to forget.

Another thing that haunted Shadowheart’s nights in the library was fear. If Elody had loved Shadowheart, what might have happened to her? Why had she not met Shadowheart like they had planned?

Love is a lie.

This voice in her mind was often her companion. The others came and went, but this one lingered. It lived somewhere deep in Shadowheart’s spine, and emerged to spit in her face every day and night.

She didn’t want to believe it. Shar was the Lady of Lies as far as Shadowheart was concerned. Yet, there was no escaping this one tenet of Shar’s dogma. Perhaps Shadowheart was simply fated to be alone.

It may well have been a form of self-flagellation, but when Shadowheart found the courage to leave Wyrm’s Lookout, she headed eastward, towards Cormyr. Along the way, she saw places Elody had told her about. Elody had shown Shadowheart some sketches of beautiful scenery from the road. Shadowheart spent one evening staring at the night sky on a cliffside she’d seen in Elody’s sketchbook.

She could almost feel Elody’s hand in hers. Yet, the spaces between her fingers stayed empty. There was nobody there to hold her hand. What a stupid thing to have hoped for!

She still picked a sad little flower, already wilting from the emerging winter, and plucked its petals, one by one. The flower gave her no answers as to why Elody hadn’t shown.

Shadowheart was in no hurry. She would stay in one place for a while, explore the area, take up what little work she could get from small villages and towns along the way, and move on once she’d seen enough of one place.