Enuyu Suhishi's Sanctuary

[Enuyu Suhishi]

This is Enuyu's home thread.

It's a more appropriate place to collect flashbacks and stories from her past; possibly links to all the threads she's been in on the board.

She has no actual "home" in Wistvale yet. But that ought to change, I think.

Be it ever so humble...

[Enuyu Suhishi]

Links to all the threads she's written in :

"The Menagerie Tavern"
Beginning w/page 23 Reply #341; Ending w/page 24 Reply#352
Wherein she lands on the docks of Wistvale, finds the local tavern, and meets Diegis.
rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=tts&action=display&thread=381&page=23

"The Darkness Before Dawn"
Wherein she has met Diegis and he kindly offered to help her find the harbor master that she may exchange her currency, only to find trouble along the way.
rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=ww2&action=display&thread=622

"Trouble With The Undead"
Wherein the duo come together again after some time apart and...
rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=ww2&action=display&thread=668

[Enuyu Suhishi]

Emerald green eyes looked out over a blue ocean that was becoming dotted with white caps. The wind was picking up, and with it the chop of the ocean began to rock the vessel. Grey clouds gathered on the horizon. The ship's crew was confident in making port before the storm overtook them. But just to be safe Enuyu went below and assured herself that the scrolls were secured in a water tight barrel. They were, and she returned to the deck.

The flavor of the air had changed, both from the impending storm, and from the land they were headed for. She had never realized that land had a smell all its own, nor how sweet that smell could be after weeks of confinement on a tiny ship in the middle of the ocean. She found herself possessed of a new respect for those that earned their living from the seas and had the courage to make long trade journeys upon them.

Despite the crew's confidence she was becoming anxious. Anxious to set foot on dry land again, to have space to move in and to practice in, to be able to run. The ship had felt too much like a cell for too long, and she needed space. The first couple of weeks on board hadn't been too bad. In fact it had been nice to be able to just sit back and relax for a time. It had also been nice to talk to the crew, learn who they were, where they came from, even pick up bits of languages she'd never heard before. But even the best company becomes tedium after a time. Besides, at heart she was a physical person, and she needed space. Space and a place where her eyes wouldn't damn her to instant recognition.

Those same eyes could make out the smudge of different color that was slowly resolving itself into the picture of a port town. From how the crew spoke of it, this Wistvale was a collection of the exotic. It should be a place where she was no more unusual than a tree in the forest. Maybe she could finally stop running. Maybe she could put down roots. Maybe she could find worthy people to train in the ryu. Maybe.

She'd been on the move too long. For two years she moved from settlement to settlement, cities, towns, and villages, even the wilderness had been her shelter for a time; and she'd been unable to spend any length of time in any of them. Her family had been declared traitors, to be captured or killed on sight by any legal authority; because her father had dared to defy the edict that the fighting arts were only for the warrior caste. He had dared to teach the otherwise powerless how to defend themselves. He had dared.

He'd taught her the arts as well, but in secret. It wasn't against the law, but it was an ancient social taboo even more powerful than the law. Her father explained to her the why of it one day : that because society's thinking was so rigid no one would ever suspect her of being skilled; and the day would come when she needed that skill. He knew something terrible would happen when it was discovered he was training those not of the warrior caste. She was his ace in the hole, his way of being able to pass on his teaching should all else fail.

All else did. The Emperor's men came to the province, unseen, unheard, and unknown for months. They learned the names of all those who learned under her father. They spied on the farmers and the laborers and the merchants. They discovered the extent to which her father's ideas had taken hold. They called it sedition and treason. Perhaps it was. The soldiers came in the night and stole people from their beds. They were at the walls of the family compound without warning.

She still didn't know the fate of her family. The official story was that the entire family had been captured or killed, the province was under new leadership, _loyal_ leadership. Those that had survived had been tried for their offenses and then been beheaded. Their holdings had been given to one of the Emperor's cousins. But that wasn't entirely true. She still survived. Of course that meant they'd be doubly motivated to kill her if they caught her. But if she had survived, maybe others in the family had. She doubted it, even as she still held onto hope. The last she knew of any of them was they were going to the gates to buy her time to escape. Those had been her father's last orders, and final wishes for her. She had to escape and carry on the ryu. And it had been two years since she'd heard anything other than the official story.

It had been two years of being unable to settle down. Every time she tried, her eyes made her known; the only girl in town with emerald eyes, the same sort of eyes the daughter of the traitor had. And sooner or later someone official started asking questions. And she ran. But it was never far enough, not in a land where almost everyone had brown eyes; everyone but her.

So she did the only thing she could. She found her way aboard a ship. And now there was the vast gulf of an ocean between her and the only land she'd ever called home; the land that would gladly see her dead. In front of her lay Wistvale, the unknown, and her future.

[Enuyu Suhishi]

( Inspired by the Valentine's Day thread here : rpgmenagerie.com/index.cgi?board=bb2&action=display&thread=640 )

Alone.

Alone wasn't such a bad thing to be, even if much of the time being alone wasn't her choice. It was another thing entirely though to be lonely.

Today, she was both.

She'd have thought she'd become used to it by now. Five years running without company on Heart's Day ought to be enough experience to inure her to the acute feeling of isolation it brought. But it did no such thing. If anything, the passage of time may well have honed those emotions within.

It made her angry to be alone and lonely on this day. Any other day she could ignore the societal circumstances that made her a virtual pariah. But on this day, when everyone was with someone, walking around as couples everywhere, exchanging gifts; it sharpened her yearning.

She wanted somebody, anybody, to love and to hold. Her hand went up to her head, brushed her fingers through hair that was no longer than her pinkie was wide, and remembered why it was shorn so short.

She was nine. The other girl was twelve. Back then it had seemed like she was so much older than that, as if she had some sort of mystic elegance. A false pretense had drawn the other girl to the gardens. Enuyu had blushed when she presented her with the card, the little poem and the rock candy. Her heart was crushed when the other girl's face twisted up as if she'd just swallowed a rat and she ran from the garden. She couldn't even get the words out to tell her mother why she was crying so hard.

The next day was worse.

The other girl found her, but instead of disgust, she was all smiles and sweet words. Hope lured Enuyu behind an old building where people rarely went. There was a group of older boys waiting for them. She tried to defend herself, but there were too many. They hit her, pushed her down into the mud, spit on her; and to her nine year old self the worst was when they cut her hair off. She'd been so proud of it. It had hung to her waist, and her mother always said it was like the finest silk.

She cried herself dry, and didn't get up until a passerby happened upon her. It was an older man that was part of her father's staff. She didn't know what he did, but she did know he was always kind and held her father's ear. He brought her back to her mother, and Enuyu told her what had happened.

Her mother was apparently shocked to find out about Enuyu's feelings for another girl. She received a long speech about how a proper girl was supposed to act, whom she was supposed to do certain things with. There were parts she'd heard many times before, but this time it seemed somehow more emphatic, especially the new parts about a woman's role with boys, and how a proper woman didn't do certain things with other women.

It left her more confused than usual. What did it matter who she had affection for? What harm was there if she liked a girl instead of a boy? She liked them both, but girls were just easier to understand. She asked her mother why? And all she was told was because it's the way things are supposed to be.

And while she felt like this was some sort of separation forming between herself and her mother; her mother still agreed not to tell her father what had happened. They both knew he would be furious. They both loved him. But they both knew he could be an unkind man when he felt his family had been wronged. And he was provincial governor. So they both kept quiet. The other children had been wrong, but they and their families didn't deserve what would surely be an out of proportion reaction. Her mother cleaned Enuyu up before her father came home. Enuyu lied to him, and said she'd finally cut her hair like he had advised her to so many times, so it couldn't be used against her in a fight.

It all came flooding back to her on Heart's Day. Every year, the memories and the loneliness and the isolation.

Girls weren't supposed to practice the arts. They were supposed to be calm and docile.
Girls weren't supposed to dress in pants and shirts. They were supposed to wear dresses and look pretty.
Girls weren't supposed to go climbing trees and playing all over outside. They were supposed to learn how to keep house and take care of children.
Girls weren't supposed to like girls. They were supposed to like boys.

She was utterly the opposite of all of that. Well, except that she did like boys too. But because of it all there wasn't a single person willing to get close to her. She was seen as a social poison, a weight that would drag anyone's status down.

It left her alone, and lonely, and angry. She knew she'd be terrible company given her mood, so she sought out the isolation that only magnified her mood if only to spare anyone else her wrath.

And she spent Heart's Day alone.

[Enuyu Suhishi]

It was perfect.

Well, okay, it wasn't perfect, but it had potential.

The roof had fallen in, and the doors and windows were nowhere to be seen. Vines and other plant growth were trying to reclaim it. It wasn't in the best neighborhood, sitting as it did on the edge of Dead Town.

But. It was small, just the right size for one person. The walls were still sturdy. There was open space around it, or there would be once the overgrowth was cleared away. There was enough ground in front perhaps to support a garden, and enough in back that she could set up training dummies and a practice circle.

It used to be a chapel from the look of it. There was a tiny cemetery adjacent to it that didn't look like it held more than a couple dozen markers. There might be a tiny mausoleum in the furthest corner, but it was so overgrown she wasn't sure and she hadn't taken a close enough look to find out. What little inspection she had done of the cemetery revealed a number of markers so old that the weather had obliterated whatever inscription might have been there. Others looked a bit more recent, and some had just fallen to pieces.

They weren't her dead. They were no relatives of her's. So why have any concern? Except it bothered her to see ancestors forgotten. Maybe these folk just had no one to remember them. Or maybe no one knew who they'd been in the first place. Regardless, she decided if she took the chapel as her own, she'd do something with the cemetery; even if it was just to clean it up as best she could. It would have to wait though. Doors, windows, and a roof were her top priority. Assuming she could even legally move in.

And as it turned out, moving in wouldn't be a problem.

It was the business of a couple days asking around, inquiring with the sentinels, people who lived nearby, and anyone else that might have known; to find out the place had been abandoned for at least a decade. No one claimed it anymore, and as best as anyone could recall even when it was occupied it had never been a hub of activity. Whatever denomination had used it had kept to themselves.

In short order the gold she'd earned with Diegis as reward for bringing Kellen Dane to justice was flowing out of her purse and into the pockets of a small crew of carpenters and masons. The grounds-work she did herself, clearing the overgrowth by pulling it out with her bare hands; or where necessary cutting it back with a hatchet, an axe, or a machete. It wasn't the right time to consider planting, but she did set up a small raised bed that would become a garden.

Two weeks of hard work saw her funds nearly depleted. But in exchange there was an almost miraculous transformation of the building from ramshackle ruins to humble abode. She had a roof over her head, doors that could be locked, some simple furniture, and a little fire place she could cook in that would keep the place warm.

There was tons more work to be done. The floor was still dirt, the walls were unadorned and cold, the practice circle was begging to be made, and she still hadn't touched the cemetery. But in all, it wasn't bad. Soon enough it might even be cozy.

[Enuyu Suhishi]

Enuyu finished banking the coals in the little fireplace.

Her fireplace.

In her home.

With the workers gone, and nothing but her thoughts and the walls surrounding her, it finally hit her. This was her home. It belonged to her, and there didn't seem any reason to believe it was going to be taken away.

For several moments she sat there overwhelmed and didn't feel anything. Maybe she didn't even know how to feel. Until she realized she was overjoyed and relieved. And somewhat sad. It was a joy and relief to know she no longer had to run, that she had a home now to call her own after going years without one. It was saddening because it reminded her of the home she had, the one she lost along with her family.

She didn't realize she was crying until she felt the little tracks of wetness on her cheeks. She tried to stop them, but they just kept coming. There were no racking sobs, no hitching breaths and runny nose. It was just tears.

They rolled down her cheeks and left wet stains on her gi. A fear and stress she'd been carrying with her for so long that she no longer recognized them as separate from herself came running out with them.

No more running. No more fear of anyone with authority. No more moving every few weeks because folks couldn't help but notice her eyes. No more keeping other people at arm's length and believing she'd never have friends again for fear of being discovered to be a "traitor".

She wept for the joy and the relief. She didn't know how long the catharsis lasted, but it left her eyes sore, the rest of her drained, and thoughts of her family dominating her mind. She had never mourned them and wondered if she would ever be able to. She couldn't bring herself to give up hope that maybe someone else had managed to escape. She hadn't seen any of them die. Her last memories of them were a frantic jumble, but in all of them they were all still vibrant and alive. There was nothing about any of it that could give her closure.

That left her feeling a little too alone. So she pulled herself up, wiped her face dry, and headed to the tavern. Maybe Diegis would have finally returned to town.

[Enuyu Suhishi]

Training.

Some days it was just routine, a set of motions that she moved through without thinking on it. Other days it was a refuge, a way to shelter her heart and mind from the loneliness of being a social pariah.

But most days it was like this; a joy that Enuyu threw herself into with gusto. The more she trained the better she became; and her sense of accomplishment and personal achievement grew. The more she excelled, the harder her father pushed her. And the harder he pushed the more vigorously she embraced the exercise.

The first real snow of the season had fallen, and the ground was cold enough to hold it instead of melting it away. The sun was just creeping above the horizon, waking the world and painting it with pale golden streamers of light. Her breath made misty plumes in the air.

She wore only her gi.

Her feet sank through the snow to find purchase on the frozen ground below. Her soles had long ago become accustomed to this sort of abuse; the frozen grasses and small rocks surrounding her family's compound were a minor discomfort at worst.

And she ran.

It was a familiar route, one of many, that led to a familiar destination. She was short, but her legs devoured the ground at a steady pace, a fast pace given the conditions. It was a sedate half day's ride on horseback to get where she was headed. She made the trip before the sun was halfway to it's zenith.

There was a small lake there, fed by a river in the mountains. The same river continued out of the lake and onwards many miles until it eventually met the sea. The water ran clear and cold, even in summer. It wouldn't be long before it froze over.

What Enuyu did next was surely foolish. But she was young, and driven, and the true masters would sit and meditate under waterfalls.

She stripped off her gi, revealing a figure too sinewy, linear, and athletic for most to find attractive on a woman; and dove into the frigid waters. Her muscles almost seized in shock, but she forged ahead and swam. Out to the middle of the lake.

Halfway back she began to flounder.

She was alone. If she went under she would surely die.

Fear tried to seize her heart in an icy grip that made the water seem balmy by comparison.

It was her father's voice that saved her, his teaching.

"Fear is conquered by action."

She swam harder.

When she reached shore her muscles were cramping and every inch of her shook, though she was unsure if it was the cold or the effort. She donned her gi and began to run again.

By the time she was a mile from her home she had been reduced to a half shambling shuffle. A man on horseback, one of her father's retinue, spotted her and tried to give her a ride home. She refused. Her voice was weak, but insistent. "I will make it back on my own." To his credit the man only stayed by her side.

Her mother was shocked at the sight of her. Enuyu's lips were blue, and her skin was as pale as the snow blanketing the earth. She was barely able to walk, and her fingers refused to listen to what she told them to do. In short order her mother had her wrapped in blankets and sitting in front of a warm fire. When she heard what had brought her daughter to such a state she was incredulous and admonished her as any loving mother would have.

"You foolish girl! You could have died!"

Enuyu smiled, a little wryly, a little in triumph. "But I didn't."

[Enuyu Suhishi]

^v^ Secret Techniques ^v^


The voice of Enuyu's father woke her.

She mumbled something inarticulate. She might have been asking what was going on or what was wrong or... well she asked something, that much seemed to be clear. It was also clear she was reluctant to completely shake away sleep's grasp.

Her father's voice was quiet, but insistent. It wasn't what she would describe as hard, but it was demanding.

"Enuyu. Wake up. Pack what you think you will need for a week away from town."

That got her attention. She shook the wool and cobwebs from her mind, opened her eyes and looked to him, only to be greeted by a nearly pitch black room. Whatever was going on, dawn had not even begun to start. She asked her father what was happening.

"We are going on a special training trip. Your mother is not going to approve, so we are leaving before she is awake and able to lodge any protest."

She may not have been able to see him, but she heard the conspiratorial grin in his words. The darkness was an obstacle easily overcome by her familiarity with her own room, and in short order she had gathered what she would need. Her father left the moment she began moving. When she made it to the stables he had a pair of horses ready, his own favored riding mare and the mare he knew his daughter most liked.

They took the north road out of town, headed into the mountains. For a time, they rode in silence, but as the sun broke the horizon her father began making conversation. It wasn't odd in and of itself, but some of the questions he asked were unusual. He was asking her opinion on old battles and recent politics; what she thought of the decisions made by generals and aristocrats. It wasn't something they had much touched on previously, and she wondered why he would ask such things now.

By the time they stopped to rest and feed both the horses and themselves, conversation had returned to subjects Enuyu was more familiar sharing with her father. By the time they reached where he wished to camp that night she was giving it no more thought.

It was only another half a day's travel to reach the area he wished to be in for whatever special training it was he had in mind.

For the next several days Enuyu was pushed as hard as she had ever been pushed in the past, but nothing seemed particularly special about what her father was pressing her to accomplish. What she didn't recognize was _how_ he was pushing her; that at times she was left with choices, moral choices, in how to act when fighting or doing chores. Perhaps she didn't see the choices laid in front of her because in her mind there were no choices. She was who she was and she was going to act in the only way she knew how.

Finally she asked him.

"What are we really doing out here?"

He smiled at her question. "Waiting for you to ask something like that."

She gave him an impertinent look that she got away with only by virtue of being his daughter. "Doesn't really answer the question Dad."

"Your father wanted to make sure he truly knew his daughter; and that she was the sort to call her old man out on it if she thought he was leading her astray."

There was caution in the single word of her question, as if she was not entirely sure she wanted the answer. "Why?"

"Because, your brothers are good men, but their temperaments are still young, and they are still men. They still wish to show off, to prove that which does not need to be proven. And that is at least partially my failing as their father and their teacher.

But you, little falcon, know how much is just enough, that enough is enough and no more is necessary. You know how to properly deceive. You know how to keep a thing secret. You know the importance of knowledge and the proper application of power.

That makes you ready. And that means it is to you I wish to pass on the most secret and dangerous techniques of the ryu."

Enuyu was, in a word, stunned, and could not find words.

Her father's voice carried at least a hint of amusement. "Well, are you not honored?"

"I never expected... Wait. I didn't think there _were_ any secret techniques. Aren't you the one who says 'There are no secret techniques, just old men who keep secrets.'?"

He laughed, and it was a full bellied sort of thing. "Yes, I say that. I am also an old man who keeps secrets."

She shook her head a little bit. "Sly Pops. Sly." Then she became serious again and bowed to her father as a student does to their master. "I am honored to receive these teachings."

"Swear to keep them secret to keep them safe and to pass them on only to those most worthy."

"I so swear it."

The rest of their time was spent more as father and daughter than student and master. It was when they returned home that the real training began; in the early mornings, hours before the sun rose, within the comfortable darkness and quiet of the dojo.

A single fat candle sat lit, on a stool, three paces from her. It's meager light left most of the dojo shrouded in darkness and shadow. The flame stood steady, unwavering, reaching upward as if striving to banish the darkness of its own accord.

Her father spoke, in the instructional tone he used when he expected his words to be listened to very carefully. There would be a test later.

"Almost every practitioner of the arts taps into their ki at some level, whether they are aware of it or not. You, your brothers, and all my students have learned the most basic principles of harnessing your ki. You are faster, stronger, and all around more capable because of it. You can accomplish with ease physical feats that the uninitiated would find difficult or impossible.

But those are only the most basic things that are possible.

Learning to truly master your ki will allow you to shatter your opponent's bones at range. You will be able to heal yourself and others with a touch. You will be able to stand your ground even in the face of raging flood waters, or walk upon those waters if that is the path you choose. You will be able to leap over buildings, cloak yourself in shadow, blind your enemies with light. All these things and more are possible with mastery of your ki.

All these things will take years to master.

Now. What is ki?"

She knew the answer, it had been drilled into her since the beginning of her training. "It is the energy and essence of life."

"Yes. And these techniques are powered by ki. You see the danger in coming to rely on them, using them when they are not necessary, or when you have not yet mastered them?"

Her answer was sober. "Death."

"Yes. These are dangerous techniques; difficult to learn and draining to master. Do not allow progress in your training to push you to seek your mastery more quickly. Pacing is more important here than it has ever been before."

Weeks passed, and the candle remained stubbornly lit. It was in a moment of frustration and anger that she finally snuffed it. She re-lit it, unsure if it was her technique or a stray draft. It remained lit. The earlier emotions bubbled up again, and the candle was snuffed. She sat, and meditated on this.

She had too much peace. What she wished to accomplish was inherently an act of violence. Without some disturbance of her own to project into it she had been doomed to fail.

An incredibly slippery slope came into view. It would be so very easy to lose one's self to the emotions of the technique; to get lost in the projection of violent intent. The consequences were frightening. With the realization, perhaps a minor enlightenment, she found a new and great respect for her father.

It did a great deal to temper the initial joy she'd felt at her success. She put the candle and stool away, and sought out her father. He was standing on one foot, balanced at the top of a bamboo pole. Behind him the eastern sky was just beginning to brighten with the first rays of the oncoming dawn.

"How do you do it?"

"I can not tell you. You must grasp it on your own."

"I can snuff the candle. How do you not lose yourself to the intent of violence?"

He made a little sound of understanding and dropped from the pole to stand in front of her. His voice was subdued, and it was as much the voice of her father as it was her teacher. "The same way we keep our strength from making us bullies. We respond with force only when force has already been initiated. We use force only when no other viable option remains."

Uncertainty was still in her voice. "It would be so easy..."

He wrapped his arms around her, his daughter, his best student; and reassured her as best he could. "Pacing. Mastery. You'll do fine little falcon."

*****

It was only two days later she was roused in the middle of the night. Her mother and father both came into her room without any attempt to be quiet. Her mother held a lantern and went to her dresser even as her father came to the side of her futon and spoke urgent words to her.

"What we most feared has come to pass. The emperor's men have come, in force. They are taking people from their beds and they are on their way here."

Fear gripped her heart, and she suddenly felt very cold. Her mother pressed clothes into her hands. Without thinking she began getting dressed. With thinking she began to suppress her fear. Plans started to form, tactics that could be used to hold off hundreds of men if need be. Then she scolded herself. She didn't need to be thinking of tactics. Her father had planned for this, she knew, and he would be in charge of any resistance.

"Where do you want me?"

"On a horse and away from this place as quickly as possible."

She stopped in the middle of pulling a boot onto her foot. Disbelief and protest both were writ on her face. Her father cut them off before they could begin.

"There are too many Enuyu. They are moving to surround the entire town. If they have to they will burn this compound to the ground with everyone in it for what I've done. You alone have a chance to escape." He set a pack and several coin purses in front of her. "Take the scrolls of the ryu. Keep them secret, keep them safe. Hide yourself. Take the secret path out of town, avoid the road, but head north to Imaicho. Speak to no one but those that you must. If it has been a week and we have not rejoined you, if the emperor's men come, flee as quickly and as far as you can. Never return here. Do not wait longer."

She clenched her teeth and finished putting on her boots. She could not cry, she could not hesitate. Her father had just charged her with carrying on the only legacy he could now leave to the world. There wasn't any saying no.

Her mother placed another pack before her, this one held clothing and a few other items. Then her father and mother both embraced her in a fierce hug. Unshed tears shone in her mother's eyes and her voice wavered. "Spread your wings daughter of mine. Spread them. And FLY."

It felt like her words would be lost in the gulf of emotions and the whirlwind of her thoughts. But they made it out. "I love you both."

"We know."

She took less than half a minute to add a handful of other things to the bag her mother had put together for her. They were small things, sentimental things, things that held memories for her. Now they were infinitely precious.

When she reached the stables her brothers were already there. They had readied a pair of horses for her. One was her favorite riding horse, the other was a well tempered beast of burden more than anything else; it carried at least two weeks of supplies on its back.

Tashi spoke first. "No goodbyes. We'll see you again. Promise."

Etsuto continued in their brother's footsteps. "We'll kick the emperor's men in the ass and send them home crying to their mothers."

It was false bravado, and they all knew it. Enuyu played along. "Well then, at least I get an impromptu vacation from you buffoons. I'll buy a bottle of sake and we can drink to how silly it all was."

Tashi grinned like he hadn't a trouble in the world. "I'll hold you to that."

She didn't cry. She _couldn't_ cry. Not now. She had important things that needed doing and crying wouldn't help get those things done.

*****

She waited twelve days in Imaicho. Before the sun rose on the thirteenth the emperor's men had come into town and ordered all ships to stay in the port while they searched every vessel, building, and hidey hole in town. It was by luck alone that she avoided detection and managed to flee east into the marshes.

And for the next two years she felt (even if at times it was not so) as though she were playing a game of cat and mouse; that she was being hunted, relentlessly. Eventually she felt her only choice was to flee the Land entirely. She bought passage on a merchant's ship and landed in Wistvale. Only once she was on foreign shores did she finally feel free of pursuit.