a destiny. She’d settle for just her memories. Her real name. Why she was in the woods, surrounded by those… things and why she is here now.
You will have your answers, says the voice, though Mercy asked no questions. I swear to you. Go.
In the end, what choice does she have? So, she tilts her chin up in a decent imitation of pride, and says “Well, am I free to go, then?”
The old guard nearly trips over himself to stand aside, making a sweeping gesture of welcome as if inviting no less than royalty within. Nils, the
Just Another Struggling Writer 
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