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[Ceinwyn ab'Arawn]

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Heavily booted feet crushed down on broken bits of bone on the black, wasted soil. A sword plummeted into the earth beside, carving a sheath for itself from the broken dirt and sending out a pulse of negative energy rippling across the slumbering ground. Small sighs resonated from strewn bone and stones as they were bathed in the blackened aura, like so many pitch waves lapping at a moisture-starved shore. The wards that had been placed so long ago over the parcel of land shifted ever so slightly within her presence. The shroud of obfuscation with which she had blanketed the property in to cloak it from consciousness adjusted to reveal the true nature of the acreage to her.

Home.

Her violet gaze swept over the awakening property, taking in the dwelling for the first time in ages. The main building's architecture rang familiar and yet so very foreign to her. She knew she'd designed it, but the memory of the doing was lost to her. Only the whys remained, and she gave them no consideration. What was done was done.

And what was done would also be undone.

Striding down the cobbled walkway, she began a quick inspection of the domicile. Once a thorough survey had been completed, she was pleased to note that the residence had been kept in good repair. Not a single scratch on any of the walls or furniture. Sindreline had proven to be a trustworthy caretaker, and she would have to offer him a substantial token of gratitude for his service and discretion.

The building would need redesign without a doubt, its present form just would not suit her purposes. It was impractical and stood testimony to the past weakness of her other self, something which she had no intention of ever allowing life again.

For now, she would leave the cloak of illusion draped about the tract of land. Even though the situation in Umbra had slightly altered, she would not begin to reveal her hand just yet. Anyone gazing upon the property would feel a natural inclination to ignore it, as if it were unimportant. Such was the nature of the magic of obfuscation. The price to maintain the spell was costly, but thankfully there were always plenty of degenerates to fuel it that would not be missed.

She slammed the point of her shield into the ground, sending up a shower of rocky bits and wedging the arcane metal upright . She stood stiffly erect, steepling her gloved fingers in an array before her. Her words, barely spoken with the breath of a hummed mantra, began to invoke movement in the ether about her. Bricks shrugged themselves loose from the mortar, disassembling the building one stone at a time under her guided urging.

The task would have been much easier and less time-consuming if the Artisan of Ruin had had a hand in it, himself. Still, she used the technique she had borrowed from Bailos to the best of her ability. In the course of the next several hours the property would level and she would build anew.

And there was so much rebuilding to be done.