Amelia slowly walked through the marketplace, picking up a jar full of arrow heads and looking at them nonchalantly. Although she had been doing what she was: hiding, for so long she had never gotten used to it. Walking through an area, passing by people who would have killed her if her attire had been different. Now she set the jar down, walking stiffly away, white hood as far over her head as it could go - wanting to conceal her face.
One year. An entire year she had spent, trying to conceal herself in a group she hated. But she only did it because she realized her entire clan now considered her a traitor. She was an outlaw to them and she couldn't even enter one of their camps without being shot at. Not that there were many camps left. It turned out that Nim hadn't only attacked her camp, others were taken as well. So apparently Icyheart didn't have a personal vendetta against her, it was a vendetta against all the Shadows. Either way, Amelia didn't care. Although Nim was dead, it gave her no comfort. Because Dorian was dead too. Because of her.
After his death Amelia had just been sort of... hollow. Some people might have said that the two barely knew each other, and that had valid reasoning behind it. They had only been "friends" for less than a week, and already his death had affected her almost as badly as Colt's had. Colt's had been even worse only because she hadn't been there to see it. And the fact that she considered her camp being taken partially her fault, judging by the fact she hadn't been there to help defend it. Or to help defend the people she cared about. Now they were all dead.
Matthew was gone: went back to his cabin after Nim was dead. Amelia remembered him telling her that since she had her memory back, he didn't see the need to follow her around anymore. She hadn't told him at that moment, but honestly she felt as if she needed somebody around more than ever now that Dorian was gone and she found out Colt was dead. Everything inside of her hurt. Although the pain had slightly numbed overtime, if she ever thought about the two deaths Amelia was left feeling nothing but agony. And she thought about the deaths a lot.
After Matthew had gone a fair distance away, Amelia vaguely remembered collapsing on the ground before sobbing hysterically. She probably would have stayed like that forever if permitted, but soon she heard a few Wanderers approaching the tent to check up on Nim or something and the wounded Shadow quietly slipped out.
Amelia resisted the urge to sigh, knowing that any shown emotion would make her stand out. The main White Hooded Wanderers camp was hard to infiltrate, but she had managed. After scouting around it for a good week or so, learning all of the guard route and patrols, she managed to take out a Wanderer that strayed from his usual post and take his uniform. From then on she used the clothes to blend in. Her goal? Find Dorian's family. They didn't know about his death yet, and she thought that the right person to tell them would be the one girl who considered herself responsible. So that they would have somebody to be mad at. Somebody to blame.
The main camp was three times larger than the others. It had a marketplace, an area just for sleeping quarters, an enormous area to train and practice, and there was an abandoned structure nearby that previously was used as a prison. The prison was where Amelia stayed. If she ever slept in the camp, something might happen during the night that could reveal her identity. Ebony stayed there while she snuck around the camp. Amelia didn't know where Dorian lived, so she decided to wing it and just go straight to the source. She would walk to every Wanderer camp in Silver Hills if that was what it took to find them. They needed to know. She needed to tell them.
She remembered what Dorian had said once before, so long ago, around their campfire after that sudden outburst he had. His family supposedly consisted of his older brother and his little sister. Amelia saw little kids running all around this camp. They were the only slight source of happiness that she could see and she doubted that children were allowed at any of the other camps - mainly because they were too open with combat. It gave her slight hope that Dorian's family might be there. But she didn't know how to find out where they were without asking somebody.
She had been wandering around the camp like an outcast for too long. It was growing extremely tiresome and she was ready to take action. People would start getting suspicious anyway, since all she ever did was walk about and occasionally pick up a purchasable item, only to set it back down with little interest. So far not a single person had tried to start a conversation with her, much to her relief, for she might have her cover blown when she didn't know what to say. One day when she just didn't care about getting caught anymore, when a small child crossed her path, bow in hand, she knelt down on the ground and got his attention.
"Hey!" She asked in a quiet whisper that the child somehow heard. It was amazing how innocent all of the children looked. They probably only became robots like the adults when they turned fifteen - when they were hypnotized like Dorian had said. The child immediately approached her with a slight grin, eager to speak with somebody by the looks of it, "Hi there. What's your name?" Amelia asked, wanting to draw attention away from herself as a group of Wanderers walked by.
"Jay." The small boy responded, looking adorably shy. Amelia couldn't help but smile at the boy's innocence, and be amazed at how oblivious he was to the fact he was living amongst a clan of murderers.
"Hello Jay. I'm Amelia. I was just wondering if you could tell me something," Amelia lowered her voice once more, starting to get strange looks from the others Wanderers at her out of the ordinary behavior, "Do you know if a family named Darkbow lives here? I'm looking for them."
Jay smiled at the sound of the name, giving Amelia great hope he knew of them as he said, "That's Mazarine's last name! She's cool! She uses magic n' stuff!" His smile broadened.
It took great effort to hide the extreme pleasure she felt when receiving the news and Amelia immediately asked after the child's words, "That's great! Can you tell me which way Mazarine lives?"
Jay nodded frantically and pointed one small finger behind his back, in the direction of one tent. The flap was being hung by large poles stuck in the ground, leaving it open and displayed. Amelia looked at it with great interest, seeing a comfy looking setting displayed behind it. Tables and chairs, bedrolls and beanbags, and a small flap in the back that probably led to more tent. Standing at one of the tables, fiddling with some cards in her hand, stood a teenage girl. Her dark blue, chin-length hair was straight as a pin, and her white archer's tunic matched all the rest. She had a piece of seaweed or something tucked behind her ear for some reason, and her pulled down hood revealed her face. When Amelia got a good look at her eyes, and she saw the black color they were, she knew immediately who the girl was.
Mazarine Darkbow. Dorian's little sister.