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“There is no rule that troubles only come to us one at a time,” I heard Northgyth say. “Indeed, we have troubles aplenty now. But Yllfa, ah, I must try and unravel the threads that seek to bind her if she is to emerge as the woman she needs to be.”
My eyes fluttered open to a comforting darkness, broken only by the light of one candle some distance from the bed upon which I lay. Someone sat there, watching me.
“Waelden?” I whispered gruffly, the words tearing at my throat like the raking of claws.
It's late into the night and the winter storm tears through my clothes, preventing me from keeping warm. The wind seems to attack me with snow and rain in equal amounts, forming it into ice attaching itself to my hair, beard and clothes. The weather is unnatural for this part of the land and I have a feeling it's there to prevent me and my self appointed task.