[h2]Tamlorn Winter-Rose[/h2][hr]Jehenne’s eyes caught Tam, like a memory. Up close, it seemed she hadn’t changed. Her hair, those eyes, the sculpt of her shoulder... Then she spoke, and ice had touched inside his chest. The spell broke. The breath he had not realised he’d been holding escaped. He blinked. Then his eyes flitted away, to the floating staff, the ground, his feet, anything else. Remorse stabbed its thin fingers into his heart and began tugging it downwards. Reluctantly, his face rose again to meet hers. There she stood swaddled in a motley of emotions and simple clothes, all beneath the dread-coloured patina that was fear. He dredged words from murk of his mind, “I’m sorry,” he spoke lamely, his words clipped, his mouth twitched. He kept watching her, “For everything.” Blessedly, Rote caught his attention. The man was a mystery, appearing at once mad yet also in possession of all his faculties. It was not clear whether his mannerisms were born of delusion or his noble upbringing. Perhaps both. He followed them to the canal. He knew not what else he could do, seemingly trapped within the thoughts of his own mind, memories, words forming and reforming in a hundred iterations of a sentence and coming no closer to what he wanted to say. The damp smells of flotsam and refuse clung inside his nose. Danger sharpened his mind like a stone knapping flint. A wandering mind was a dangerous thing; now he stared down a dozen barrels of a dozen men. He recognised some of the faces, once fellow knights. Victory was a slim possibility, yet Tamlorn gripped his weapon, ready. But, conflict was avoided. He bobbed his head at the Inquisitor, a small smile playing across his lips, “And house Winter-Rose will not forget.” He stepped onto the boat, equal parts curious and concerned of Jehenne’s fate. He was not sure he could leave even if he wanted to. It was not until the black scar upon the cityscape, the Cathedral, reached up before them as if defying the heavens, that Tam spoke once more. Jehenne had pointendly ignored him the entire journey, so Tam had stewed in his own thoughts. “Does the Church want anything with them?” Tam asked the Inquisitor, “Beyond their freedom?”