She was a big woman, wide rather than tall and solid in the way of Dwarves, but average in height and weight. Her hair was cut short against her head, and her neck and arms were tattooed with Dwarf symbols. She wore traditional black robes, but they were striped with crimson and gold about the shoulders and down the back. One eye was gone, the result of a childhood accident, and she wore a patch over the socket that adhered to the skin and bone without need for a cord. Seersha was not like anyone Aphenglow had ever known, and it was those differences that drew the Elven woman to her.

“Are you here because you’ve finished with your search of the records?” her friend asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow.

“I’m not finished, but I may have found something important. Let me change out of my clothes and gather my things and I will meet you and the others in the south Council chamber in an hour.”

Seersha nodded and, without pursuing the matter, went back out the door. As she disappeared, she gave a wave and said, “You-know-who has gone off alone again but is expected back soon. Still your heart, if you can.”

Bombax again. Aphenglow laughed and closed the door behind her.

It was way too late to do anything about her heart.

When she had washed and dressed in clean clothes, she walked through the corridors of the Keep toward the south Council chamber, taking her time, drinking in the smells, tastes, and sounds she had been missing during the year she was away. It was a ritual for her, a reconnecting with the place she called home. That she could feel such pleasure in a structure built of stone and iron would have surprised the Elves of Arborlon. But she saw so much more than simply the cold surfaces of the materials. The Keep was a living thing, a presence that could be felt and on occasion heard. It was protective of its children and incredibly dangerous to those who threatened them. Down in the Well, in the heart of the Keep, there was a magic that warded everything and could not be dislodged or destroyed. Time and again, when the Druid order had disappeared, died out, or simply stayed away for a long time, the magic of the Keep had come awake to keep watch until those who belonged returned.

Sometimes, when she was alone, walking down cavernous halls and through rooms layered with tapestries and shadows, she would sense the magic keeping her company, a silent, undemanding presence that wished only to share her space. It was little enough to request, and she gladly gave back what it asked.