Gin looked up from rubbing her temples. They’d kept her aboard the Vindicaar after she’d collapsed on the surface, keeping her around under the guise of “strategic purposes” as they kept a closer eye on her. Nothing had changed since the day she’d asked to come back aboard, to be removed from the front lines. No more loud voices in an unknown language, no more spikes of shadow power - minus the Shadowy raven she’d sent to Aren, unbeknownst to anyone. But even she had no desire to return to the front line for once.
“Aye?”
“We’re sending you back to Stormwind. You’ve barely had any rest since this war started, maybe being home for a few days will do you some good.”
Gin simply nodded, looking up from the charts she’d been going over. Home with the twins and Terrick sounded wonderful right now, but then...her original home. Gin had vague memories of a dark figure lurking in the corners of their home. She’d brushed it off as a half-formed childhood memory, until recently. Maybe there was something still there, unexplored.
“Aye...aye, alrigh’. When ‘m ah t’be leavin’, then?”
“Tonight. We’ll give you enough time to gather what you need, then we’re sending you through the portal to Dalaran. If you feel up to it, you can take the portal back to Stormwind from there, or you can rest in Greyfang Enclave for the evening.”
Another nod, this time closing various charts and journals she’d been rifling through. The Gilnean rarely - if ever - asked to be taken out of active combat, but this was different. She was fighting something she had no idea how to combat. And unlike the fel corruption, whatever this was had no outside cause that she could tell.
