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[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Bitter cold wind whipped around her as she stepped into the icy water. Behind her, on the snowy bank, her armor lay, frosting over. Clutching her cloak to her, to at least partly shield her from possible voyeurs, she walked further into the biting cold sea that surrounded Dagger Isle. Caina, one thing that remained clear and fresh in her jumbled mind. Hopefully, the frozen waters would bring her clarity and focus.

She basked in the chilling water, allowing herself to submerge. Ice cold on all sides, she felt so removed from the world. As if she could just float away forever. Throughout the water, she felt the presence of undeath from the island behind. The past lingered and the future needed to be considered.

[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Things were not matching up with her memories, her mind was a mess. As she gazed around the hall of the Sepulcher, so obviously designed by her, yet it felt as if it had been created by a stranger's hand. Bits and pieces were missing from her mind, and she needed time to sort through it all. It was with this intention that she addressed the Umbrans at the evening's gathering.

She announced her intent to step down, which sent a stir around the room. She would continue to be a source of knowledge, if they wished. Discussions commenced of what would happen next. Whom would step in for her. Etcetera etcetera.

The group filed down to the library to sit in further conversation about how they would proceed. All the while, Ceinwyn was busy sorting through the chaos of her mind. She stood to the side, offering bits and pieces to the discussion as parts of their debate reached her mind, but it became overwhelming. Kaelthir's steady stream of energized speech became suffocating to her, as she was trying to control her own racing thoughts. The cacophony finally reached a heated crescendo, and something within her snapped. She could take it no more.

She stepped onto the teleporter, alighting once more in the main hall. Taking up an axe, she began to take out her frustration on the furniture, expressing her inner turmoil in easily vented anger. Nothing was the same as it had been. The axe ripped through benches and chests in an effort to relieve her agitation. It did not take long for the others to hear the commotion and inspect its source. They tried to stop her from destroying what she had built, but in her mind it was as if a stranger had built it. They pleaded with her to stop, which only further enraged her.

"Get out... Leave me to my thoughts.."

"Matriarch, please.."

"GET OUT!"

Kaelthir was urging everyone to leave, but Jase, as stubborn as ever, asked her not to destroy their home. She heaved the axe at him, striking true, but Kaelthir quickly used her magics to repair him. In angry frustration, She took the still unfamiliar kryss into her hand and attacked him, each swing against this disobedient man feeling insanely good. Kaelthir kept healing him, but Ceinwyn could not bring herself to stop. She wanted to make him suffer, as she was inside. Back and forth her blade went across him, the wounds knitting together as fast as she made them, thanks to Kaelthir's power. At last, she screamed at them all in rage to leave her be, and they finally listened, heading for the exit.

Ceinwyn sank down onto the bone throne and looked over the damage she had created, her mind lost in thought.

[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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She stood on the bridge gazing out over the star-filled sea of Malas, and it finally felt familiar again. No longer did she view the world through the unsettling fog of confusion. These past days hidden deep within Bailos' hermitage, far from external influence, she had taken the much-needed time to put order to the chaos dwelling within her mind. Satisfied with her progress, she had taken a leisurely stroll along the now recognized Gauntlet Isle and had found herself on the eastern bridge, gazing out over the sea of stars, exactly as she had done in Umbra on so many occasions. It did not take long before she was greeted by another wanderer.

"It speaks."

The masculine voice came muffled, from beneath a dark, horned helm. He sat atop a horse and that bothered her. Wasn't it quite rude of him to not dismount for conversation? Ahh, but here she was questioning manners, as if it mattered anymore. As if much did, when in fact there were far more important things.

"Look, it can ride," she retorted absently. With a wry smile, she noticed he was now dismounting. He removed his helm, revealing a familiar face.

It had been a while since she had conversed with a such a devout and headstrong paladin. She realized she was enjoying the verbal exchange. This was a perfect opportunity to test the restoration she'd been doing to her mind. His questions and philosophy set the wheels of her brain turning. She felt quite invigorated and oddly enough, battle ready. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

The ways of this one's mind were most interesting, she decided. He was young, yet somewhat battle-tempered. He had formed his opinions much the way everyone did, with his experiences, and it was both amusing and intriguing to consider his perspective. She put herself in his boots, imagining how he must have come to his conclusions, and she found it altogether a refreshing viewpoint. Quite the concept, that he thought she relied on her name for her power.

Would that I could actually channel energy though it, like some sort of mantra...

He was on such a roll that she hated to disillusion him. Her power was not built on her name. Her name was nothing. Let others ascribe feelings to her appellation. If anyone truly wished to test the extent of her power, they were welcome to meet her face to face. She would surely not be wielding her name, but rather a sword and an unkind word or two in an archaic tongue. But, she did not argue him much. Let him think what he likes, perhaps he would find out one day. She would welcome the challenge, then. Life was too long and boring without some amusements. It would be interesting to watch this pawn make his way across the board. She secretly hoped he would not disappear like Reese, yet another true paladin that had vanished from the lands, having found the confines of Sanctus less then welcoming to his ideals.

As the conversation wound to a close, he struck a nerve within her. This man was probably more devout than any other paladin within all of Sanctus. The only one with the right to call himself a true paladin, and yet his eyes were not open to the danger surrounding the fact.

"When they have contented themselves that Umbra is silent and at peace, they will turn upon themselves. They will witch hunt among their own kind, as they always do. I have watched the cycle over and over again. They will devour their own, like starving and frenzied rats."

Stepping closer and speaking but an inch from his face, she raised her voice to hammer home her point.

"What do you think that would mean for one of your ideals? You, who are different than they? It is you who will become hunted!"

After several silent seconds, in which she knew she'd pierced his internal armor, they pushed each other to a distance. He stepped back to put his helm on and mount his horse, in poignant silence. As Arahim rode away, with nary a parting phrase, she faced the void in the same pose that he'd found her.