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[Elijah_Morendale]

((Solo, picks up a week after Elijah leaves "When Blood Runs Cold"))

Even though a week had passed, Elijah still felt bad for leaving Chris stranded there with the crazy raven-haired woman and that shady John character. There his friend was, in his darkest hour no less, and what did he do? He turned tail and ran away. The denim-clad adventurer was constantly kicking himself in the ass for abandoning the chef like he did, out of fear of getting killed by the warrior priest Malachai. No, he wanted to live, but there was a twinge of doubt that screamed what if they needed you? What if they're all dead because their one chance at survival chickened out? So what if you didn't know how it felt to lose someone you hold dear in your heart! He was your friend, dammit! These thoughts constantly circulated through his fractured mind, making his sleep restless with dreams of the Ethereal Sway agent's staff cracking the skulls of the three people he left behind.

The guilt slowly built as Nadia refused to drop the subject--whenever the two spoke to one another, anyways. Elijah's imaginary friend was still peeved at him for passing up any further opportunity for her to cause some more massive bloodshed; her all-time favorite hobby. The two would bicker back and forth out in the expansive, chilly, snow-covered wilderness of Salvar. His voice carried on for quite a distance in the open, but he didn't care. As his "relationship" with his the fictional woman deepened, the lines dividing reality and imagination were slowly crumbling. It was no longer uncommon to catch him talking to himself in public.

Elijah was currently following one of the main roads, against the warnings of a few of the tavern owners he had spoken to along his journey. Salvar was embroiled in a massive civil war, but he didn't care: He just wanted to get home--wherever it was. I've had enough adventuring for a while... I just want to get back to the village and work on improving my icecraft.

His skills with creating ice, which were generally lacking, were another reason that he backed out of the priest hunt. The adventurer was afraid of letting everyone down. Although Elijah wouldn't admit it, he was jealous of Chris's ability to wield fire--and do quite an impressive amount of damage with it. If one put a lot of thought into it, icecrafting could net some really useful purposes, but despite his and Nadia's overactive imaginations the best he could do was keep a few cute girls' drinks cold. It was very depressing, especially after watching the chef toast a few zombies firsthand.

It was nothing that a few more years training under Gilliam Ornost couldn't fix. The man's incredible ability always fascinated the adventurer: Oh, how easily he could pull finely crafted ice weapons out of thin air! Elijah always looked forward to the massive ice sculptures that decorated the village when his friends and surrogate family celebrated the yearly anniversary of the nameless village's founding together.

The thought of the parties made Elijah smile. If his internal calendar was correct, the festival was only a few weeks away--all the more incentive for him to find the village as quick as possible. It was just too bad that he was still having no luck actually getting there.

The sun was setting over the pine tree forests in the distance. The blowing wind picked up as it flowed down from the mountains, chilling the adventurer to the bone. Elijah pulled his denim jacket tight around him, furiously rubbing his arms up and down his body in an attempt to keep warm as he picked up his pace. Several hours ago, he thought he could see a dull brown blob off in the distance. As he drew nearer throughout the day, he realized that it was a village--one that had a low fence surrounding the perimeter. Good thing, too... There's no freaking way I'd survive a night out here by myself.

As the twilight gave way to utter darkness, he quickened his pace even more. His cold, wet feet cried out in agony as they swiftly moved through the powdery snow that seemed to glow a pale blue in the moonlight. He cursed himself for buying such a thin pair of canvas shoes back in Corone.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The adventurer noticed that three small orange lights appeared in front of the open gate. Guards, perhaps? He wasn't worried, it was almost certain that after a bit of smooth talking, they would let him in (at least it was that simple in his own mind) for the night. When he came within a couple hundred feet of the gate, the three figures stopped their patrol. Elijah thought he could hear someone faintly shout in surprise, "Is that him? By the heavens, it is! I'd recognize that jacket anywheres!"

Elijah was confused by the spectacle of the womanly figure immediately dropping her lamp and making a mad dash towards him, screaming his name the entire way. He slowed to a stop, his too-black hair blown every which way across his face. As the thin woman came into view, he could slowly make out her features. She had slightly curly light brown hair that flowed freely down to the middle of her back. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with joy in the moonlight. She had a barely-noticeable patch of freckles adorning her thin nose.

When it dawned on him just who the woman was, he cried out in laughter. "Isabella? Is that you?"

The brunette didn't respond; instead she buried herself in his chest, wetting his black shirt with tears. She tightly wrapped her skinny arms around him, squeezing him with a surprising amount of strength. He slowly returned the gesture, embracing her tightly. The two childhood friends (rumor had it that they were once something more than that) stood there for several minutes, the silence occasionally broken by a few sobs. Isabella was several inches shorter than Elijah; short enough that his neck hurt as he kept his forehead pressed against the top of the girl's head. She felt warm against his body, and if it was up to him, they would stay like this forever, but...

Nadia stuck her tounge out in disgust. "Alright, chief. Let her go, before you make me gag. There'll be plenty of time for catching up after we get into town."

Reluctantly, Elijah pulled away. Her perfume was strong in his nostrils, the tantalizing scent of flowers brought back memories of years long past.

The girl looked longingly at him as she wiped away a stray tear or two. "Welcome home, Elijah."

"Thanks," he said with his first genuine smile in a long time.