Frozen Heart - chapter 8

It took Sand an hour to calm down – he still wouldn't go back to the hall and look at the guestbook again, for he knew what he saw, and was afraid his tears would spill again, something he would never allow anyone to see. On the long nights after Rustyn's death, he would cry and howl at the sea, cursing Umberlee for taking away the one that meant the world to him, but no one, except for Jaral, who followed him undeterred, would see his tears. In the end, he took the cat in. It was more than a hundred years that Jaral had been his familiar; the memory of Rustyn cuddling him when he was a kitten still fresh in his mind.
But more importantly, who was this new Rustyn? The name was the same, but was she the same person? She was an elf, a wizard, and went by the name Rustyn Khelba… but then again, somebody torn apart by sharks doesn't just resurrect like that. But 100 years! Where was she for so long? Back to Darromar, maybe? And what Khelgar said about her somehow didn't match Sand's imagination either: horrible? Creepy? Anyway, Sand was not about to go and ask Khelgar for details; his feelings would not show.
And if she made her fortune elsewhere?
Sand quickly began searching on the bookshelves.
Abjurers… Conjurers… Diviners… Famous Mages…
He took the last tome down and looked through the pages: no mention of anyone named Khelba, or Rustyn for that matter. But she was such an amazing talent…
Back in Darromar, maybe?
Sand placed the book back and left his room, heading for the library of Crossroad Keep, hoping to find something in the section dedicated to places.
Memories began to emerge, and swept across his mind like a tidal wave. Her smile, her laughter, her lovely eyes… and her gentle, kind personality. If this Rustyn was the same one, then Khelgar was wrong.

Meanwhile, the four adventurers had just defeated a gang of bandits who were about to rob them.
"Let him run…" the priestess said, as the last one tried to make his escape.
"Let him suffer!" laughed the mage evilly, and threw a spell at him.
The young man immediately burst into flames.
"No! How could you?!" the three others watched helplessly as the man cried and screamed in unbearable pain, and in the end fell, his smouldering body jerking.
"Yes, well, drowning is much more beuautiful… remind me to use that next time!"
"You… you monster!" cried the priestess.
"My, how did you guess?" the mage smiled slightly.
"You act totally like one!"
"Wrong" replied the elf, without even looking back "amin naa uuvanimo. I am a monster!"
The others looked puzzled; this woman was getting more mysterious and scary with each passing moment.

Sand looked through the more recent books about places on Faerűn.
Damara… Dambrath… Darromar!
Sand sat on a stool and opened the quite thin book.
Famous people of Darromar…
"It cannot be…!" Sand's eyes widened.
The most famous citizen of Darromar, sadly now deceased, is undoubtedly the mighty diviner Xavier Feldem. His statue now stands in the main square, and his grave is visited every day by those who had the luck to know him, and even those who wish to honor his spirit, which people still wish may guide them.
"I remember that, when I was a child and played with my friends not far from his shop, he would sometimes come out and blow us a few colored bubbles when he snapped his fingers, just to see us laugh…" says an old matron of the city.
"That kid…!" Sand closed the book.
He felt a little heartache, though; he never ever wondered about what became of that foolish bubble blower.
But what of Rustyn?

It was night, and the four adventurers had set up camp.
The svirfneblin awoke after a while, though not afraid of getting killed in her sleep as she lay down close to the strong ranger. The mage's bedroll was empty, but the thing that disturbed her was not this, but the faint sound of a weird trickle coming from a bunch of white flowers not far from them. She sneaked up to see something that nearly made her forget to conceal herself well.
The elf sat among the flowers, looking at a book at the light of a luminescent sphere. Come to think of it, when she wasn't viciously murdering anything that moved or worshipping Umberlee, she would always sit and read. It appeared as if she was crying – but that was not it. Tiny ice crystals ran down her cheeks instead of tears.
The svirfneblin quickly went back to her bedroll. What on earth was this elf?!

Sand walked out in the garden, and almost carelessly began picking the white flowers, then took a vase and replanted a few of them in it.
"Need these for potions!" he told Neeshka walking by, even though she seemed to care more about whether he had his purse on him. Luckily, he didn't.
"Ah, yes, Khelgar!" he said, faking he didn't really care "are those four coming back anytime soon?"
"I don't know, I tell ya. Last heard they went to tha Priory o' tha Dephts or something."
Sand winced.
Cursed Umberlee…
In his room, he made a couple of cute small bouquets of the white flowers, and placed the ones in the vase on his desk.
Oh, Rustyn…

"Um, Rustyn…?" asked the ranger, standing up to his waist in freezing water at the priory of the depths, given that the mage had been staring in awe at a statue of Umberlee for about an hour.
She seemed not to hear him.
"Oh for Shaundakul's sake, I'm fed up!" the svirfneblin, with only her head out of the water, was clearly losing it.
"Just follow me" said the elf suddenly, in a strange otherworldly voice.
Doors would open and monsters, though swimming around them, would not bother the adventurers as long as the one calling herself Rustyn Khelba led them.
Things did not get less mysterious when they finally met the prioress.
"Come to me, o Blessed One…" she said as she welcomed the elf.

"Ah, Sand" said Khelgar, as the elf was pretending to be busy dusting old tomes in the library "they're coming back, they'll be here soon."
"How do you know?" asked Sand, trying not to sound excited or interested.
"Goat-girl Neeshka told me, she always checks on them then runs in when they enter tha gate."
"Ah" Sand blew some dust off the last tome, then quietly retreated to his room.
I am only going to the basement to brew some potions.
This was his prepared answer, in case the adventurers weren't there yet or Rustyn Khelba happened to be someone else, and Khelgar or anyone would ask questions. He picked up a bouquet of flowers and listened carefully. When he heard the door open, he walked to the throne room, where the Knight Captain once usually sat, but now was Khelgar's post.
"Oh, you must be the ones Khelgar told me about" said Sand, pretending not to mind too much.
"Um, yes…" the ranger looked around "I am Arlian…"
"Yeah whatever, I'm Jyissi" said the svirfneblin.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Kelly!" the priestess smiled radiantly "we are indeed the group calling ourselves The United Faiths, for each of us worships a different deity!"
"I am Sand, a wizard here at Crossroad Keep" he said, a bit disappointed that only three adventurers were standing in the hall, when the door opened slightly and the short, thin figure of an elf appeared.
"Sand…" she whispered "I believe I once knew someone with that name… oh well."
"Oh and this is our mage, Rustyn, given that it's her real name" the priestess added.
Sand just stared at her; she was walking in so slowly it seemed like a lifetime to him. She just kept on staring at the floor.
Short. Thin. Jet black hair with a tinge of blue.
"Oh!" she said suddenly and rose her head "white flowers…"
Those eyes… those eyes that sparkled with the colour of the setting sun over the Sea of Swords…
"Rustyn!" cried Sand.