Several days later, we arrive in Durotar.
On the road from Northern Durotar, we came across a group.

“Where are ya headin’?”

“Sen’jin, sistah. ya be joinin’ us?”

And so we walked together, setting out right after sunset.

Night is falling, and yet we still walk.

Eventually, we make it to the village. It looks the same as it always has. So much time has passed and yet, not so much time has passed so as to make my childhood home look any different. There are bustles of people; Men, women, and children are everywhere. Most are dancing and shouting. Others stand over pyres, giving commands and officiating in small ceremonies.

I don’t see my father or sister anywhere. The crowd is too great. I start to feel sick.
Noticing my suddenly pale complexion, Jatkai walks me over to a water basin.

“Ya alright, sistah?”

Not at all. I’m terrified.

“Ya just need some rest. Ya still be sore from di ordeal ya bin through.”

I look up at him. I wish so much to be looking up at Dauneth’s forgiving, gentle face. But Jatkai smiles sweetly and gently at me, and suddenly I don’t feel as conflicted or pained as I should. He puts his arm around me and I do the unthinkable.

I kiss him.

He smiles. I panic. I shouldn’t have done that. What am I doing?!

“I be needin’ some rest now, Jatkai”

WHAT AM I DOING!?

I go and lay down in one of the makeshift cots. A female witchdoctor attends to me after Jatkai points her in my direction and gives stern direction barely in earshot to ‘look aftah mi precious heart.” I start to feel sick and throw up several times. I look up at the woman and scowl. Times have changed; the Darkspear embrace her kind now. I’m confused and incapacitated. I suddenly feel worse than when I was dying.

I pass out.