Zellira trudged up through the mountains, having let the horse free at the base of the peaks. She wondered where Mekoa was now...if she had released all the souls of those Zellira had killed... she would need a place to rest. Now Zellira's mind wandered to the village she had slaughtered. She had felt nothing when she had murdered the fathers of the little children who cowered in corners or the mothers who threw themselves on top of their children to try and protect them. The children themselves had made no noise when they died, burning or still from a blade through the heart. Zellira winced as she thought of how easily she had let go of her sense of conscience. How easy it was to end a life. She pulled herself up towards the peak before looking into the gaping maw of the mountain tunnel that would take her to the Dark City. She shuddered. She was beginning to understand why Mekoa had run. The silver flower the princess had given her clutched in her fist she descended into the bowels of the earth, the root of the mountain, to her awaited punishment, whatever it may be.