Clair opened her eyes. She was in the room she'd stayed in just a few scant days ago, but it felt much longer to her. Her eyes scanned the room, dark save for the light under the door and a twin pair of red embers directly across from her. She sat up, her body aching.

A voice came from the darkness. "Thank the gods you're alive. I even prayed for you." Harlowe adjusted herself as well as she could with a single working limb.

"Did we do it?" asked Clair.

Harlowe's red eyes moved up and down in the darkness. "We did, though I nearly…"

"But you didn't, Harlowe." Clair smiled.

Harlowe grinned beneath her mask. It was nice seeing Clair smile. "I know, I'm just honestly not sure if I trust myself anymore. Hah, no, I never really trusted myself since the curse fell on me."

Clair's brows knit together. "Harlowe…"

"What? I don't." She gestured with her left arm, something Clair wouldn't be able to see. "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" Asked Clair.

Harlowe pointed at her. "That one, the one where you're concerned."

"No idea what you're talking about!" laughed Clair. 

The door cracked open. 

"Dinner's almost ready. Even got sour wine and spiced carrion for the discerning guest," said Berthold through the barely open door.

Clair shut her eyes from the light. "You can open the door, Berthold."

The door was fully opened, light from the hall pouring in. Clair opened her eyes once they'd adjusted to the light. Though she still sat in shadows, she could see Harlowe more clearly. Her artificial limbs were missing and she was sat on a wheelchair. She waved with her clawed left hand. 

"You really got beat up." Small tears beaded in the corners of Clair's eyes. "We'll be out in a minute, Berthold," she said, making an effort to keep her voice steady.

"See you soon," said Berthold as he left.

Clair swung her legs off the bed. They ached. "Do you still have the back up arm?"

Harlowe scoffed. "I do, but the mount is warped."

"I bet we can still get the thing on." As Clair stood, one of her calves burned with sharp pain making her wince.

“Clair, your wounds! Don’t open them for my sake," said Harlowe.

Clair ignored the comment and looked at the prosthetic laying next to her chair. “Well, since the arm is here we can at least put it on for you. How hard can it be to deal with the warp?”

Harlowe watched Clair pull up the limb and line it up. “See the warp?” 

"I see it, Harlowe. It's not as bad as you were saying. Can you push against something?" Clair got herself in position to push.

"Yeah, just a moment. Not like I can stop you from exerting yourself." Harlowe dug her talons into the nearby door frame and pushed.

There was a moment where the metal inside Harlowe's shoulder groaned, then clicked as the arm connected. Harlowe grit her teeth, but released before her fangs sank into her gums. The pain of nerves connecting slowly dulled as Clair connected the other cables.

Clair smiled at her. "All done."

Harlowe flexed the hand of the prosthetic, watching the fingers move according to her will. "Still legless, but at least I'll be able to feed myself. Thank you, Clair." She put her right arm around the other woman. "Truly, thank you."

Clair hugged Harlowe back and ran her fingers over the bumps of her spine where they pushed against the fabric of her shirt.  "You don't need to thank me. We'd not have gotten through this without you."

Harlowe laughed coarsely. "If I didn't get all those corpses in there, that mass underneath wouldn't have been able to make that monstrosity."

"And if you hadn't then I'd have had to fight them all separately."

Berthold stuck his head through the door. "Please come, before the food gets cold."

The pair smiled at each other. Talk of guilt could wait until after they ate. Clair wheeled Harlowe out while the half-ghoul made sure her back-up prosthetic arm was working correctly. Clair couldn't have noticed, but the warp did cause a few problems. The foremost of which was a dull ache inside her torso where the other side of the warped plate was embedded, but it wasn't something that needed to be addressed immediately.

"I'm going to need to make a new set of legs at some point," muttered Harlowe.

"Maybe Marcus could help with that?" said Clair as she pushed Harlowe into the dining room.

"If he has some copper and is as good a smith he seems to be I might be able to get a pair I can walk on assembled," said Harlowe.

Harlowe looked at the faces at the table. The village elder, Rene, Berthold, Bea and Erich looked back at her. She wasn't particularly fond of sharing space with so many people while vulnerable, even if she logically knew these people weren't threats. Looking for reassurance she found herself glancing over to Clair, who smiled softly back as she took her seat. Dinner began in earnest, Berthold portioning out stew as discussion began.

"I'd never actually seen a mage fight before. You were amazing, sis!" said Erich.

Rene waved a hand. "It's not like I'm a proper warmage. Had I been, it would have been less risky."

Erich set a bowl down in front of Rene. "You can't blame yourself for those that were hurt."

Bea put a hand on Rene's shoulder. "Without you we'd have had to find some other method of getting rid of the nest."

Rene sat silently for a moment, everyone watching. "Since Bea and I are to leave at the Fae's request… I'm going back to The Spire."

"Aren't you exiled from there over what happened with Vallentin?" asked Bea. 

Rene shook her head. "No, I wasn't caught. And, I need to learn how to handle casting under duress,” she said before thinking to herself, “from the last message Vallentin sent… I’ll need to."

"You seem skilled at enchantments. Have you thought about doing something like my old right arm? Err, just without removing a limb for it," Harlowe added.

"Maybe. It's been done before, clearly. I just lack the physical fighting skills you've all got," said Rene with a sigh. 

"Then learn them," said Harlowe, waving her left claw.

Clair frowned slightly. "Harlowe… I assume she will, you don't have to just say it outright."

"Apologies, Rene," said Harlowe.

Rene shrugged. "Not a big deal. Maybe I'll learn the blade."

Erich had finished serving everyone, including Harlowe's just recently spoiled food, and sat down. "Which one, sis? There's a lot."

"Jackass," grumbled Rene. 

"Food's going to get cold if you keep talking," said the Elder, between spoonfuls of soup. 

The dinner passed peacefully, the group talking late into the night. As Berthold went to clean up there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," said Clair, getting up.

She walked out to the living room then to the door. She could hear the wind outside. Upon opening the door she saw a pair of the white wolves that bore her to Imerre, in front of them her spear and shield. 

Clair knelt down. "You're her’s, aren't you?"

The wolves chuffed softly. 

Clair ran a hand through one of their roughs. "Thank you."

The wolves regarded her for a moment longer before running back into the wild. Clair lifted the shield and saw a small message in fresh snow. 

She shook her head and smiled softly, picking up her spear as well. "I can't, I've much to do still. After all there's a whole world out there and I'm not alone now."

Clair turned from the cold and headed back inside.