[Esgallhugwen]

Esgallhugwen walked about the camp with Lira at her side discussing the need, however unpleasant, that they must venture into the heart of Fornost. She looked at Uien giving the water to their prisoner and something cold passed through her, she had no thought or care for people like that.

Could it be because for a lingering moment she was very much like them? That she was capable of that pain towards others? An urge crept into her to touch the stone looming above, dark despite the sun having risen.

Her hand reached out pale like crystal in the sunlight contrasting strongly with the dark stone. She pressed her palm against the cold rough surface and the voices hit her with renewed strength.

Esgallhugwen's mind was tossed back into her past, or at least it seemed like the past but she could recall nothing.

There was snow but something was wrong with it, it was red, thick and steaming with newly spilt blood. She can smell it, horridly familiar and poignant, looking across the chill wilderness desolate and red.

Lira looked at Eswen stricken with fear. The dark haired elf seemed to be in trance, but her right hand the one that wasn't in contact with the stone reached across her stomach to her sword that hung in the scabbard at her side. Her fingers stroked the pommel.

Uien and Lira stood far off in the distance, but where they stood no blood could be seen it was pristine and white and they glowed with purity. As Esgallhugwen looked down upon herself she was drenched in blood, it ran into her eyes, down her chin, trickling off her fingers.

'Eswen.... Esgallhugwen!' Lira called softly trying to avoid alerting the others. Eswen's hand was now gripping her sword, ready at the call.

The season began to rapidly change before her eyes, into summer, but nothing really changed. The grass she was standing in was mingled with crimson, which reflected in the sun dark like garnet. She looked over again in the distance to see emerald green and it blinded her and enraged her. Her sword gleamed and the voices moaned and beckoned of sorrow and despair, but it was warped and something else came to mind.

Her breathing had stopped as if in preparation she lifted the sword part way and turned to Lira. Something remote and dark was in her eyes, she couldn't see her friend there, she couldn't see Lira.

Falco had turned his head and noticed what was going on. Esgallhugwen took a step forward her hand still upon the ruined block.

Her face was harsh and spiteful. Another step. Lira backed away but did not call out. Esgallhugwen stopped and a struggle was in her limbs, she uprooted her hand from the rock with effort and the rough surface cut at her hand.

She returned the sword fully to the scabbard and stepped backwards. A tear sighed down her cheek her eyes quivered. 'Forgive me!' escaped her lips.

Lira stepped forward to touch her hand but Esgallhugwen flinched and backed away, she didn't deserve to be given affection. Falco continued to stare storing what had happened in his head, his suspicion growing.