Anders watched as his little sister swung down off her horse in his courtyard. Three years—it had been three years since he had last seen her. She was a knight now, tried, tested, and tempered in the fires of war. He wondered if she had changed; he knew that Kel had a gentle soul, for all that she tried to hide it. War was rough on gentle souls.

She'd stopped for a visit before heading south. The Scanrans had surrendered at last and the king was calling his knights home.

"Hey, Kel," he grinned, holding out his arms for a hug.

"Hey, Anders," she replied, throwing her arms around her big brother.

Anders drew back a little and studied his sister. Her face was chapped by the harsh northern wind and her hair was longer than when he'd last seen her. He'd noticed a slight limp as she came over to him, as though an old injury still pained her. Kel had always been hard to read, but now she seemed more closed off than ever. Her smile seemed cautious, as though she wasn't sure if she should let her guard down yet, and there was no twinkle of humor in her eyes. It was the eyes that had changed the most. Even now as she was smiling, sadness seemed to linger in their hazel depths. They were the eyes of someone who had known pain and loss, who had seen violent death and was still tortured by the death she herself had caused. Those eyes looked haunted. Anders' heart ached for his sister.

"That bad, huh?" Kel asked, noticing his scrutiny.

"Yes." There was no point in lying.

"The men of the Own call going to war 'going to see the Kraken,'" Kel informed him, "I saw it. We all did."

Anders gave a half-smile. "That fits, I suppose."

"Does it get better?" Kel asked, knowing that Anders would understand and wouldn't think less of her for asking such a question.

"Eventually."

Kel nodded. That would do for now.