The cold, unyielding stone of the Red Keep felt familiar beneath Mysaria's fingertips as she glided through the shadowy corridors.

She paused, hearing the faintest whisper of movement ahead. Someone was there. her hand drifted to the small dagger concealed at her waist.

As she rounded a corner, her sharp gaze fell upon a young woman pressed against the wall, it was her.

"You are far from home, little bird," she said softly, her accent lending an exotic lilt to her words.