Time had passed. A few years, though none the less richer, and the girl once young in life had aged. Erzebet had been 'the heartless', Ariahn, a nameless figured shrouded on the edge of Shannara. Now she lay upon a return with hope. Battle had been unkind to her, left a taste like vinegar upon her tongue. Perhaps a life outside the sword. But let us digress, and turn toward the future.
Erzebet had no true desire to venture back into Shannara. Many memories there frightened her weak heart. The being was fragile now, seeking only fulfillment. The air would bring back demons to haunt her. She cursed her mortal blood and its ease to chill. Dappled in only the sunshine's favored colors, she wandered the forest on her mare. The cloak was pushed low on her shoulders, and eyes peered, wishing only for a familiar face.
One who might take her to the side of the new Princess, a prior acquaintance. Aislynn.