The camp stirred into motion. Tents were struck. Wounds were treated. The freed prisoners were given food, water, clean clothes. Many of them wept. Some of them laughed. A few simply sat, staring at nothing, as though they could not believe they were free.
The spear woman appeared beside Lin Shen. Her hands were stained with herbs, her sleeves rolled up, her expression cheerful.
"You are lucky, you have no contaminants," she informed him.
Lin Shen almost smiled. "It's one of my traits."
She nodded. "Rest."
She walked away, humming softly, leaving Lin Shen alone with his thoughts.
He sat by the fire. The white stone was warm in his palm. He turned it over, watching the symbol catch the firelight. His father's symbol. His father's message. His father's sacrifice.
