Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 31 -- A New Refuge, the Citadel Games

The first time I became aware of Wren, she was staring at me from a balcony over a hundred paces away. Even then she had an unmistakable presence that could be felt. How no-one noticed for more than a decade is beyond me...

--Cassin

Cold. She was cold and naked. She was cold and naked and people were staring at her. The only thing that made it better was Jharon, his warm arms wrapped around her. The three women were all smiling at her. Jharon's grin was especially bright, and being hugged by him was exactly what she needed right now. She felt mentally and physically exhausted. Strangely, she felt no pain, just a great weariness as though she'd trudged a long distance.

A glance around showed this place to be someplace completely new. A strange chamber with plain gray walls whose only ornaments were all manner of odd pictures and charts. A particularly large one dominated a wall nearby. The illustration had a black background and what she could only describe as long ladder of different colored rungs that cork-screwed down the length of the page. Because of the tremendous attention to detail, the way each junction and color was penned with exceptional care, she guessed it must be a magical design of some kind.

"Jharon, please get me some clothes." She whispered. "They're all looking at me."

"You've bathed with them. What difference does it make?"

"We were all naked then."

Jharon frowned, obviously not comprehending. He looked around to fulfill her request. Cassandra gestured to a counter and a furry blue robe drifted through the air to her hand. She handed the wrap to Jharon, who put it around Wren's shoulders.

Wren pulled the soft material around herself. She shivered despite the fabric's warmth. Something felt wrong; out of place. An impulse drew her hand down the side where Hethanon's knife had cut her. She didn't feel the thickened tissue of the scar. She examined her torso where other marks and blemishes should be. The skin was smooth and unbroken.

Her fingers didn't feel right. She turned over her hand. It didn't look right either. Examining the creases in her palm, the muscles, and connecting skin revealed nothing overtly amiss. Still, something seemed different in some subtle way. She realized then that the differences weren't subtle at all. The tiny hair-line scars of a decade of guild-work no longer marred the landscape of her palm and fingers, in fact--the calluses were gone too! It was as if she'd never done a day of labor in her life!

Startled, she flipped her hand back over. The nails and cuticles were all uniform. They no longer carried the slight darkening caused by summers of getting grime under her nails then cleaning them. Possibilities whipped through her mind, none of which made sense. She grabbed her ankle and pulled, drawing the sole of her foot up for examination. There too, it was if the calluses had never been. It was as if every bit of her was brand new.

"What in Ishtar's name did you do to me!?" she demanded, looking at Cassandra. She glanced to Jharon. "What did you let them do!?"

He made hushing sounds. "It's okay. The poison did a great deal of damage..."

"It's not okay!" Wren shouted. Her raised voice in this tomb silent room made everyone jump. She focused again on the gold-skinned mage. "Cassandra, tell me."

The woman's ebony eyes glittered like fragments of a night sky. She no longer smiled, her face turning serious. The woman raised an eyebrow. "This outburst is a strange way to show gratitude."

Wren felt a chill go through her. This time it wasn't the temperature of the room. "I'm simply concerned about how much I have to be grateful for...and what in Hades you did!" She held out her hand palm up. "This is not my hand!"