Chapter Text
The pain was terrifying, which was how she knew she was dying.
Pain didn't normally scare her. She wasn't about to call it 'an old friend' or anything, because pain is not a friend, but the run-of-the-mill hurts were too familiar for fear. They were almost just part of the job. The real agonies, though, the ones that snatched the breath out of her, sent her thoughts into a panicked loop, made scenes from her own life flash before her eyes like the Echo turned inwards, left her certain that her next heartbeat would be her last… she could count those moments on one hand.
Usually, once her heart refused to stop beating and the agony finally receded like the tide, her first view on opening her eyes again was one of the Scions wearing a facial expression somewhere between utterly relieved and angry enough to finish the job. Confirming that she really had cheated death again.
This agony did not leave her body in a slow trickle. It just stopped. The terror kept going in its absence, filling up the empty space in her head. Her eyes snapped open like she was waking up from a nightmare. There were no Scions glaring down at her.
She knew what the aetherial sea looked like, but maybe it had only looked that way to the living, because now she was staring up at purple leaves fluttering in a breeze she couldn't feel, and the daylight hurt her eyes. It was odd that the afterlife should look so much like Lakeland.
Or that there should be things digging painfully into her back. She shifted and heard the scrape of dirt and pebbles. Then she realized she still had fingers and toes. She could feel them. And they didn't hurt anymore. She lifted up her hands in front of her face: unmarred by injuries, although the fingerless gloves she had on were a little bit the worse for wear. The ring on her right hand was set with a stone that had a deep scratch across its surface. The scratch caught and held her attention. She… this was… deja vu? She hadn't been wearing this ring earlier. But she remembered it. She remembered trading it away three years ago.
"What the fuck?" she mumbled out loud, half-expecting her voice to sound scratchy and abused. It didn't. She slapped both hands down onto the ground, feeling grass and leaves tickle her fingers, and heaved herself up into a sitting position. Then she scrambled to her feet, looking around in wild disbelief.
This was not the aetherial sea. This was actually Lakeland. She turned instinctively, like a compass needle seeking north, and found the Crystal Tower, its spire stabbing up past the treetops into the heavens. She couldn't get enough air. It was—she was too hot. She grabbed at the collar of her jacket and then finally looked down at herself.
The boots didn't ring any bells, but she recognized her trousers. And her jacket. She reached up blindly and groped at one of her earrings, seeking out the shape of it with her fingertips, and the sound that ripped out of her throat was neither a laugh nor a sob.
She was almost positive she'd been wearing these very clothes the first time she ever found herself in Lakeland.
When G'raha had used the Crystal Tower to summon her across the rift.
Four—no, almost five years ago.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f—" She cut herself off with a gasp and realized she was crouching, curled over herself with her forehead almost pressed against her knees and her arms up to protect her head. She dropped her arms to hug her knees instead and stayed like that as she struggled to breathe properly.
"Think," she muttered to herself. "Think." She was somehow back in the First when she'd just been in the Source. She didn't remember crossing the rift and she hadn't done it on purpose. She was nowhere near an aetheryte—she was much closer to the Accensor Gate of the Crystarium than she was to the Fort Jobb aetheryte, anyway. And the sky was polluted with that sickly-bright corrupted Light aether again, like she'd never been here in the first place. She hadn't brought herself to the First. Someone had sent her. Think.
She'd just about fucking died again. At least Zenos hadn't been involved, for once. She'd been doing ‘hero shit’, as Thancred and Alisaie had taken to calling it when she got sent in to handle things because it was time to try violence. Everyone had been there to back her up, because she hadn't been able to find an opportunity to send them out of danger. Alisaie had practically been her shadow, probably trying to prevent that from happening even if she'd found an opening to try it. G'raha had—
'I have an idea. Just keep her stable. I need a little time.' The words uncurled in her memory, and she started laughing into her knees. The fingers of one hand were dug into her hair, hard, like that would be enough to ground her right now. There was nothing funny about this, and the laughter had a tinge of hysteria to it. Her cheeks were wet with tears.
Of course it had been G'raha. It was always fucking G'raha, doing stupid and impossible shit with Allagan technology that he knew just enough about to be dangerous. She had been about to die, so naturally he used the Crystal Tower and sent her soul back in time. Did he even know where and when he'd sent her, or had he just been hoping for the best?
And what was she supposed to do now that she was back here again?
Eventually, she decided that huddling in a ball at the side of the road was not her best option, and shakily dragged herself back upright to let her feet carry her inevitably toward the spire in the distance. She came across a man with a chocobo who promptly offered her a drink, and the sight of the ring on his extended hand brought back a shock of memory.
"Where are you headed next?" she asked, waving off the bottle.
"Oh, up towards the Switch, I think," he said with an easy smile.
She nodded and then said, "Don't."
"Beg pardon, miss?"
She cleared her throat. "There's sin eaters about, and especially up near the Switch. Don't waste your time going past Fort Jobb, and don't travel alone if you can help it, either. It's not worth your life."
The merchant gave her a thoughtful look. "Well, I'm flattered by your concern for certain, miss. But death comes for all of us sinners in the end, doesn't it?" That easy grin came back. "I wouldn't much like to know what happens should we try to cheat it."
She managed a weak smile in return and started to wonder if she should accept that drink after all. "That's fair enough. I'm serious about the Switch, though. There'll be no custom for you up there."
"Is that so?" He visibly mulled that over and said, "Suppose I may head west, then. No dire portents in that direction?"
"Not today," she confirmed.
"Ah well, that's all right then. So are you for the Crystarium, to let them know about the sin eaters?"
"Someone ought to. Might as well be me, I guess," she shrugged.
"Then you watch out for your own self on the road, my dear, because we can't afford to lose any more folks who think like that." He saluted her with the wine bottle and she left him to it, trying not to hope she’d just deprived a sin eater of its meal tonight.
She started the short walk to the Exarch Gate of the Crystarium, squinting against the false daylight. It was starting to give her a headache that she vaguely recalled being a constant background hum until she’d defeated the lightwardens.
Lyna met her at the gate, and she almost smiled and greeted her like a friend until the cold, hostile look on Lyna’s face reminded her of how things used to be. Right, it was more like Lyna had intercepted her at the gate. So instead of being warm and friendly, she held her tongue and her smile back and did her best to look guileless as Lyna lightly interrogated her. Behind her bland expression, her thoughts were racing.
She could say her business was with the Crystal Exarch. But she’d had no idea the first time, and he would be surprised to learn she knew his title already. And he would ask questions about it. It seemed a little too soon to judge whether she should be honest about her circumstances. Alright, so she would keep her mouth shut about that. Lyna was about to ask her where she was from. She’d been so confused the first time that she’d said she came from Mor Dhona. Terrible idea. She could say she hailed from Amh Araeng? Mord Souq was the kind of place adventurers hung around. Then she remembered the sin eater problem she’d just promised to bring word of.
“I come from Holminster Switch,” she said firmly, “with news you’ll want to hear.”
Lyna’s eyes narrowed, her hands hanging loose near the chakrams on her belt. “State your news and be done with it, then.”
“It’s being overrun by sin eaters,” she said, “and there may be a lightwarden there.”
Lyna blinked but her face betrayed no surprise. “And you alone escaped? Are you certain you don’t come from Eulmore instead?”
This could have been going better. “I wasn’t in the town,” she began, but a familiar voice interrupted the stand-off.
“Captain Lyna, I see you’ve met our guest.” The Crystal Exarch stopped beside Lyna, leaning on his mage’s staff so subtly that it was difficult to tell he was in fact using it as a walking stick. He proceeded to fend off Lyna’s protective suspicion, allowing the chance to study him without his noticing.
He still stood so straight and proud despite being over a century old, and try as she might, she couldn’t see any shadow or outline to betray his ears or tail hidden under his clothes. It hurt her heart a little to see the visible traces of the Tower eating away at his body, the unsettling diffraction of light through his hand that looked like it was now made out of strangely movable blue crystal. Mostly though, she was gripped by an almost incandescent anger at him.
He turned his attention back to her to apologize for yanking her and the rest of the Scions to the First, and she breathed out slowly through her nose and said in a tightly controlled voice, “Do you have any idea how much chaos you’ve caused?” ’Twice over?’ she didn’t add.
The Exarch coughed awkwardly. “Alisaie had some choice words for me about my timing, yes.”
The ear-blistering a younger Alisaie would have given him had nothing on the choice words now crowding her own tongue. She swallowed all of them, because even if this had been the place it was certainly not the time for that dressing-down. This version of G’raha didn’t even know he was responsible for half of the chaos he’d caused to place her in front of him right now.
As she followed him through the gate towards the aetheryte plaza, the thought struck her that she might never get to yell at the G’raha who was responsible for the other half of this situation. Had she left a future that would never happen now, like he had when he brought himself to the First?
She almost tripped over nothing when the next thought hit her: could she do things differently now? Could she make mistakes and lose everything she’d fought for once?
No sin eater had shown up in the entire time they’d stood at the gates talking. No merchant’s ring left behind as a slaughtered monster dissolved into a cloud of corrupted aether. She wasn’t sure anymore if that was a good thing.
***
Her anger at G’raha, which now crossed the boundaries of both time and space, stayed at a low simmer as he gave her an introduction to the Crystarium which she pretended she needed. She nearly bit her tongue in half when he told her to tell people she hailed from the Exarch’s homeland—he was far too wily for his own good, which she supposed was because he was still a terrible liar even after a century to practice at it—but nodded along in silence and kept her face stoic as usual.
As she wandered around making first introductions to people she’d known for years, she made a decision. She would have to keep her origins a secret. She had somehow replaced her own self in her younger body, which she was decidedly not thinking about, in part because G’raha had seemed more or less spiritually intact when they’d blended his past self with his future self. She was clearly back where she’d started when she originally came to the First, which meant she had a bunch of lightwardens to put to the sword and countless other semi-related problems to solve. She was apparently able to do things differently than she had the first time, which meant she risked making a fatal error. She had to retrace her steps as much as possible to avoid that happening, because there were too many unknown variables. Including the other Scions, who all had a gift for sniffing out strangeness and making things complicated with their own personal motivations.
And she could not tell the Crystal Exarch that she knew his real identity, however much she might wish to. Sure as anything, that revelation would distract him from his duties, and he had many, many things yet to do to help her prevent a calamity and return the Scions to their bodies.
Hopefully this would not be an absolute disaster. All she had to do was think before she spoke or acted, and she should be fine. Thinking before doing was always a good idea, anyway. She tried to do that as often as possible, in part to balance out the reckless inclinations of several of her beloved friends and colleagues.
By the time she rejoined G’raha—the Exarch, she told herself firmly—in the markets, she was feeling confident in her ability to get through this.
The Exarch launched into a half-familiar explanation of the markets’ supply and finished with, “You shall need a means to access the commodities of your own world,” followed by something in the fae language that made her stomach swoop.
“Yes, I’m here! Of course I’m here!” announced Feo Ul, appearing before them with a flourish that nearly made her cry. “What amusements do you have for me today?”
The Exarch introduced them and Feo Ul zipped around to get a good look at her. “Well, now! You’ve come from a realm quite distant indeed! How every exciting!”
“Beyond the rift, yes,” she nodded.
“Further than that, my adorable sapling!” said Feo Ul, and she felt a little frisson of panic down her spine.
“I—” she started, not sure what was going to follow that, but she saw the pixie’s gaze cut over towards the silent Exarch before they looked her in the eye again. She saw a sparkle of mischief there.
“Ah, but you wanted my assistance! Say no more, for I am only too pleased to be your beautiful branch! Hold out your hand and our pact is made!”
She did as she was told, too staggered by this turn of events, and Feo Ul reached out a tiny hand to touch her finger. A shower of sparkles erupted from the point of contact and there was a swirl of light. Nothing but glamoured fireworks; she felt exactly the same.
But the Exarch seemed well satisfied, and so did the pixie. “'Tis done now! We are bound, my adorable sapling,” trilled Feo Ul, and the Exarch thanked them for their assistance. “Nonsense! There’s naught to give thanks for, for I am delighted for the chance to visit your realm and to learn more about you! Call on me later and I shall answer!” And they were gone.
“Is aught amiss?” asked the Exarch. “The pixies do take a bit of getting used to, although I must say Feo took to you with remarkable speed.”
She shook herself a little. “No, I’m… tired, I suppose,” she finished lamely. “Lots to take in today.”
“Well, we were going to organize a room for you, weren’t we? Come along and we’ll get that sorted out so you can have a rest.”
She followed him to the Pendants and soon closed the door to her quarters behind her with a sigh of relief. She was truly exhausted. She eyed the closed shutters across the room but had no taste for seeing the unnatural Light they were blocking out. Instead she wandered around the room, touching familiar furniture that was new again, her spare equipment and sundries left behind in another timeline not here (yet) to add comfortable clutter to the place.
She remembered suddenly that she had first encountered Ardbert in this room, right now, and whirled around to search the place for his shade. No sign of him. Another change. That put her back in mind of her pixie retainer’s odd behaviour earlier, the sidelong look at the Exarch and abruptly dropping the subject of her origins. The pact that was all for show.
She took a deep breath. “Feo Ul, I need you!”
“And who am I to deny my adorable sapling when she calls out to me?” Feo Ul fluttered into her line of sight and then hovered along after her as she decided she needed to sit down on the bed.
“What was all that earlier?” she asked bluntly.
The pixie grinned widely. “As quick-witted as she is lovely and brave and reckless! Oh, you truly are just like a pixie! Are you certain you wouldn’t like to join us forever?”
“No,” she said as kindly as possible.
There was a tinkling of bells as Feo Ul laughed. “You know you have only to ask, and your beautiful branch shall deliver. Now! You noticed our pact was already made, did you?”
‘Noticed’ wasn’t quite the correct word, but she shrugged and nodded.
“So did I! And that was curious indeed, for I have never met you before. But you have met me, my sapling, and I knew at once that I was your lovely branch. Oh, I love a good surprise, don’t you?”
“Our pact affects my soul,” she understood suddenly. Her hand had moved to her chest unconsciously, and she gripped the front of her clothing like it could anchor her. Her anchors weren’t physical, though. Her anchors were her pact with Feo Ul, and…
“Ardbert,” she whispered.
“Hmm?” said Feo Ul, flitting around her once more. “Why, of course our pact affects your soul! Souls are the part of you that matters! How else could we form the bond between branch and sapling? And your soul is more travelled than the body that holds it. Also heavier than the Exarch’s, bless him.”
She blinked back sudden tears. Ardbert was here, where he’d been for years now—her eternal passenger, united with the larger piece of their sundered self.
This was a change she was quite certain would be helpful.
“Feo Ul,” she said, ignoring how hoarse she now sounded, “can you please take a message back to… to Tataru, in the Source? From this time, not—not the time I came from. And let her know I’m okay?”
“Consider it done,” said Feo Ul warmly. “And what about the one from your own time?”
She looked up sharply. “You can do that?”
“I don’t know,” they said honestly. “But it sounds wonderfully entertaining to try! Imagine if I succeed! I could see the future of another realm!” They sighed in delight. “A more rewarding pact, I could not make. Oh, my sapling. Cheer up! Now, I’m off to deliver your message! Remember to call out when you need your beautiful branch!” And they were gone in a pop of light.
Left alone, she flopped back onto her bed and kicked off her boots, rearranging herself for a nap. And then lay awake instead, her mind too full to relax.
***
The Exarch roused her from her non-nap with a knock on her door. “Good morning,” he said, “and yes, it is morning. Just about nine bells, actually. Now that you’ve—wait. Have you slept?” he peered up at her from the depths of his hood.
“Some,” she lied.
“Hmm. Well, you’ve a private place to rest any time you get a spare moment now, at least. I come with business, unfortunately: Lyna tells me you said something about Holminster Switch being beset by sin eaters? And a lightwarden?”
Fuck.
“How did you know of these things?” he asked, because of course he did: he was G’raha Tia, after all.
She said the first thing that came to mind: “The Echo.”
He jolted in surprise. “What, you sensed them?” He didn’t seem to notice that it should be odd he even knew off the top of his head what the Echo was.
“Yes,” she said solemnly, mind racing. “There was this presence, kind of…” Which way was north from here? “…that way,” she finished, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the Switch. “And I met this merchant on the road,” she went on, gaining steam and confidence now, “and asked him what was over there, so he told me the name of the place. Apparently there are a lot of those, uh, sin eaters the further north you go on that road, so I put it all together. And there’s this one big, nasty presence.”
“The lightwarden,” he agreed. “You apparently called it that.”
She cleared her throat, letting the awkward feeling show on her face. “I saw a memory of Lyna’s,” she lied, “where you discussed them with her. Got the name from that.”
“I see,” he said after a moment of visibly considering her words. “Well, this is rather unexpected. I understood your Echo blessing to be limited to seeing visions of the past and understanding unknown languages. But you can sense sin eaters as well.”
That’s right, she thought. Like another Oracle of Light, that’s me.
“I was going to send you off to meet with the Leveilleur twins,” he said finally, “but this threat you sense in the Switch can’t go unanswered, and time may be of the essence.”
“I suppose we’d best hit the road, then,” she said.
“If you need time to prepare first,” he started, “and sleep…”
“You can’t possibly expect me to have a nap while people are in danger,” she snapped. “Get your guard captain and a support unit together and let’s go.”
He huffed a laugh at that. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll meet at the Exarch Gate—where you first entered the city. One hour?”
“Perfect.” She shut the door behind him and set about reacquainting herself with the gear she had on hand, making a mental shopping list to collect on her way through the markets once she left her room.
***
She was staring at the remains of Lakeland’s lightwarden and feeling the pulse of foreign and corrupted aether under her skin when she realized that the first time she’d been through this godsforsaken place with both the twins in tow, there had not only been far more sin eaters to cut down, but also the sin eater that used to be Alisaie’s friend. She—that sin eater hadn’t been here today, but it was days earlier than she’d come through here the first time.
And Alisaie was still in Amh Araeng, and her friend was most likely still alive. For now.
She spun on her heel and startled G’raha, who had been approaching her presumably to make sure she was alright and needed no healing. Lyna was standing off to the side where she'd retreated to when the lightwarden had fallen, and was staring at her in what might have been awe, or fear. She looked away.
“The twins,” she prompted G’raha. “Time to go find them.”
He glanced up at the dimming sky. “I rather suspect that they may come find you, now that you’ve so dramatically announced your arrival in the First.”
She shook her head. “Of the two of them, Alisaie is the most likely to have found herself in a spot of mortal peril she can’t find her way out of by the point of her sword,” she said impatiently. “Where is she?” The Echo finding lightwardens might sound plausible, but it finding the Scions would not.
“Amh Araeng,” he said easily. “Let us return to the Crystarium and we’ll arrange travel for you from there while you prepare for the journey.”
“Let’s be off then,” she said, rolling her head around her neck. “Day’s wasting.”
“For the first time in a century,” he agreed, following her away from the ruins of the Switch. All the survivors they passed were standing in small groups, clutching their wounds and staring up at the first stars of the evening.
***
Alisaie was the one to meet her in Mord Souq, because she was too late. That fact was all over her young friend’s anguished face.
“Shit,” she said helplessly at the sight.
Alisaie turned her head away to discreetly wipe at her red eyes and then straightened up with a deep breath. “What have you got to be cursing about?” she asked with forced cheer. “All I’ve been hearing about is how the Warrior of Darkness came to Lakeland. One of your more dramatic entrances, I’ll grant you.”
She wanted to ask, but Alisaie was silently all but begging her not to, to pretend there was no show of weakness on display here, and her pride was her strongest armour at this point in her life so there was no gain to be had in taking it from her.
Instead she smirked and said, “I hope you were taking notes.”
That got a grin and then an armful of Alisaie nearly squeezing the life out of her with the force of her hug hello. It had been a very long year in Amh Araeng, she reminded herself, having just seen her favourite walking, talking cannonball a few days ago by her own measure of time. She squeezed back and let the girl cling for a moment without talking about it, giving her back a little pat when she heard a sniffle against her shoulder.
“Alright, is this a hug or are you getting ready to throw me?” she asked when she’d judged Alisaie had had enough, and the girl stood back with a wet-sounding laugh.
“I’m coming back with you to the Crystarium,” she declared, like she expected an argument about it. “But first I have to go wrap some things up here.” She looked a little uncertain, now. “It may take me a bit of time, though.”
“I was only going to go find your brother, anyway,” she said.
“Oh. Well, he can wait a bit.”
“True. He is the patient one.”
“Piss off,” said Alisaie good-naturedly. Then she looked away, chewing her lip a little. “On second thought, go get him. He’s had time enough to get himself into a fine mess by now, and I don’t need you here if you have other things to do.” I don’t want you to come with me and hear about what happened, she didn’t say, but it was clear enough.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you at the Crystarium?”
“Very soon,” Alisaie assured her. She turned to leave and then hesitated. “It is really good to see you again,” she added, looking heartbreakingly earnest about it.
“You won’t be rid of me that easily,” she said with a grin, resolutely not thinking about how there was a future where all they had left of her would be her body and G’raha’s assurances that her soul was still alive, somewhere else.
“Likewise. Now go rescue Alphinaud from himself, would you?”
“Alright, I’m off. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That’s a short list!” Alisaie called back as they parted ways.
***
She returned to the Crystarium by aetheryte and used the time that bought her to get some sleep at last, with a plan to make an early start for Kholusia in the morning if she could beg the use of an amaro for the trip. She had not appreciated before killing the Lakeland lightwarden how much chaos the return of night would cause at the Crystarium, possibly because she’d spent very little time there after dispatching Philia the first time. Now she was trying to organize her operations in the midst of an entire settlement of people learning for the first time in generations that they could not easily do work when it was dark, and perhaps they should spend that time sleeping instead.
So she was inordinately relieved when she arrived at the Tower that morning and was met by Alphinaud, who had made his way back from Kholusia after hearing about the return of the dark.
“Quite aside from the implication that you had at last arrived here to join us, I must confess I was excited to see the night sky and stars for myself once more,” he said when they met in the Ocular. “It had been… a long time. And the sight affected me more than I thought it would. I can only imagine what it was like—what it still must be like, days later—for the people of Norvrandt, who’d never seen it before in their lives but had to trust that it must exist.”
“Suffice it to say,” volunteered the Exarch, “that the nighttime revelry has not abated by any measurable degree since your departure for Amh Araeng.”
“That goes some way to explaining the sheer number of tired faces I’ve seen this morning,” she said. “They’re all hungover.”
The Exarch shrugged. “Can hardly blame them.”
“Not participating yourself, then?” she baited him.
He coughed. “A man of my age? Terrible idea.”
“Of course.” She turned her attention to Alphinaud, who had not made any headway in gaining entrance to Eulmore without her assistance. All he said about the matter was that he'd had some ideas but they hadn't worked out as hoped, and then he'd judged his energies better spent on returning to the Crystarium to rendezvous with her, the Exarch and his sister.
Perhaps that meant he hadn't carried out his pearl-trading deal with the Ondo, or met Kai-Shirr in the process. Hopefully Kai-Shirr would keep himself out of trouble without their access to the Ondo, but it was difficult to regret not making it to Kholusia to meet Alphinaud, even with the potential hassle of not having made any of the connections they had used in the past. She had no idea how she could have witnessed the horrors of meol, or even laid eyes on Vauthry again, without immediately trying to kill him, which likely would have complicated the situation whether she succeeded or not. For one thing, right now she knew where every lightwarden was, but what if they moved? Visiting a sudden and surprising death upon Vauthry would have to wait until she dispatched the rest of his minions first.
“Alisaie didn’t return with you?” Alphinaud asked her at last with a frown.
“She said she had some things to take care of first. I expect she’ll turn up today or tomorrow.”
Alphinaud studied her for a long moment. “Is she all right?” he asked finally, not even trying to mask the worry in his question. She guessed her face must be giving away more than it normally did.
She debated how to answer that. “Physically, yes, she’s fine. But something has happened and she's keeping it to herself right now.”
“Ah. Hmm. Thank you for telling me,” he said.
“Of course.”
The Exarch crossed the room to join them, visibly frowning. “Should we—”
“No,” she and Alphinaud said at the same time.
He shrank back a little and she imagined his ears had gone flat with dismay under that hood. “Oh. I see. I did not mean to overstep.”
Alphinaud waved him off. “Think nothing of it. When my sister is truly upset, getting her to speak of it is a trial best left to someone who knows what they’re getting themselves into.” In other words: either Alphinaud or their mother, and Ameliance was across the rift and could offer no assistance.
“For now, I think she just needs a little time and space,” she added. “Both of which she’s taking as we speak.”
“Well, then.” The Exarch cleared his throat. “I’ve taken the liberty of contacting Thancred through the usual channels, and I expect he’ll turn up soon as well. All that remains then is getting yourselves to Urianger and Y’shtola in one piece. As I noted before, reaching either of them is no simple task. And then there is the further matter of—”
“—The lightwardens,” she finished for him.
“Yes. We believe there were perhaps five in total, leaving four remaining, and that they are scattered throughout Norvrandt, most likely keeping apart and in different regions. Now that you have dispatched Philia, I believe the area thus liberated from the Light can aid us in locating the remaining wardens. I've had a survey performed, and it appears the dark has returned to the entirety of Lakeland, up into the Voeburtite foothills to the north, some nearer parts of the Greatwood, and to the south about half the distance from here to Amh Araeng." The Exarch grinned widely from within the shadows of his hood. "So I've a notion now of where we ought to find at least two more of them, and I aim to test that with your help. If you can also use the Echo to help focus your search, even better."
She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to resettle her expression as though she was learning new information. "Do tell," she said.
***