Emmaline pulled herself to her feet fighting back tears. Her entire body was filthy and sore, sheened with a residue of days of sweat and dust kicked up by the wagon wheels. She still wore the prisoners smock she had been given after her arrest, the ragged tatters she had been captured in not able serve as any decent clothing. Fine blonde hair, which she was accustomed to wearing in long curls, hung lank and listless, greasy with its own oils. At least she was finally free, she though as she turned the key and her cuff fell away to reveal chafed red rings on her pale arms.

[i]I told you this wasn't the end.[/i]

The voice had a triumphant ring to it as it echoed in the silences of her mind. It was getting easier not to flinch when the voice spoke to her. That didn't mean that it got any less unpleasant.  Since the cursed ritual it had spoken to her, sometimes awake and other times in her dreams. What worried her most was that she was starting to forget her dreams, but she had the distinctly unpleasant impression that the voice was speaking to her subconscious when she, the conscious Emmaline was no longer present. It worried her, but it didn't have nearly the deleterious effect on her morale as being filthy, tired, and feeling like her rump had been pounded up through her spine.

"Shut up," Emmaline muttered to the voice. She wasn't completely certain it heard her, though it was possible it did and merely didn't deign to respond to her. A problem for another time, she was in enough trouble without getting caught talking to herself. She had been lucky to avoid being burned at the stake, but the priests had pronounced her clean of corruption. That obviously wasn't true, but it wasn't as though she had been motivated to declare that she was hearing voices.

She looked around the empty wilderness that seemed to stretch in all directions. Gods only knew how far they were from any major settlement. How far they were from a bath, more to the point. This was a strange land, where she knew no one. Being alone without allies was a terrifying thought for any criminal. She glanced around at the other prisoners.

"I am Emmaline," she announced in what she hoped was an even voice.

"I suppose if we follow the road we will eventually reach... somewhere?"