Safety is an illusion, she knows this is true,
On her eyes have been since the adventure fell through...
Not visible ones, but she knows she is now seen
Eternally so by the undead's red eyes, keen.

Since she has left, always his presence she has felt.
This is the bad hand of cards that she has been dealt.
But is it so bad, she cannot help but wonder;
He could have instead ended her for her blunder...

But he had not, so Vakarine accepts, moves on.
Each morning she sits outside and watches the new dawn,
For she could have lost this from her trek down below.
He is dangerous, this much she does surely know...

Yet he gave her a true gift of magic profound,
Simply because she freed him where he had been bound.
Her newfound magic is this innate connection
To the world around, even the wind's direction.

It does not feel evil, though she knows it could be
In different wrong hands, she knows what she would see.
But Vakarine has always been a true kind soul,
And the magic simply makes Vakarine feel whole.

She contacts Fetch for a mercenary contract,
For who else would go with her to undead contact.
The two go down to the furnace where he must be.
Eyes are on her still here, but nothing does she see.

Vakarine takes comfort in her magic, though knows
It will never go against the one who arose
From his deep slumber in coffin, he did awake.
Her magic makes her feel like she can't ever break.

It is a foolish fancy of thought in her mind,
That if evil, to her he's been nothing but kind.
But the search it finds nothing, at least not for her...
He has gained something, but what, she's rather unsure.