#vigorously sweeping the dust off my writing skills and my kicking my posting anxiety under the bed

[lambs-rest]

The Converging Light

Track: Mary On A Cross (official slowed + reverb) - Ghost (YT)

——————–

Y’shtola did not let her sight drift from Granye for more than a moment as they emerged from the aether current, arriving at the aetheryte situated in the sleepy village of Wright. The roegadyn had seemed out of sorts since they reunited. Y’shtola had quickly strong-armed Granye into sitting down on the paved stone floor and allowing her to tend to the garish wound that graced her shoulder before they left the seclusion of Amaurot. Granye had complied without any sort of protest or hand-waving. It was highly unusual behaviour for her. Considering everything that had just transpired with the Emissary, Y’shtola felt it only right to be worried.

Indeed, all along the walk to Eulmore she was quiet and distant, save for the sudden remembrance and gifting of a slice of Archon loaf from Tataru. But Y’shtola did not see the concerning pattern of her aether fighting itself again, which was a small comfort to her, so she did not press the matter. There was no question that Granye was sullen about the revealed truth of Elidibus’ being, and the sorceress was not eager to press her about the matter, nor the related ensuing inexplicable fit she had experienced. Granye’s mood only seemed to lift when they reached the Canopy of Eulmore and they spied their friends gathered around the Chais. Perhaps, Y’shtola thought as she watched Granye stride in first, she would have to appease herself with that smallest mercy for the time being.

“Forgive us our lateness.” Y’shtola said smoothly. “Master Chai, my congratulations on your appointment. By all accounts, you are a capable mayor.”

He smiled bashfully, almost waving a hand. “Oh, I have capable friends, my lady. I must say it’s good to see you looking hale and whole again.”

“The credit for that lies with my own capable friend, without whom I might never have escaped my abductor.”

Granye’s smile faded into a frown as the rest of those gathered reeled back at the word.

“Your what!?” Thancred blurted.

“’lidibus. He took advantage of Y’shtola bein’ weakened. Snatched her up before I could stop ‘im.”

“And Granye fought valiantly to rescue me.” she added with a smile, though it disappeared quickly. “But that is the least of our story. I have uncovered the truth of his being, and even managed to verify with the Emissary before he…parted ways with us.” she finished delicately. “It is just as we feared. The Elidibus we know is indeed a primal, fuelled by hope. It is this very fact that drives him to inspire hope among the people of Norvrandt even now – that he may continue to carry out his sole reason for existing: his duty.”

“A primal… That would explain why Elidibus has been fostering faith in the Warrior of Light. While you were enjoying your audience with the wandering heart of Zodiark, we were busy dispatching the last of the black-masked Ascians. A task which proved almost insultingly easy.” Thancred said wryly. “Formidable though we undoubtedly are, they were obviously sent to provide encouragement for budding heroes. Once cannot help but wonder how many times the ploy has been used before…”

Granye turned away, her stomach churning. Neither Papalymo nor Lyse were here to reminisce with her about the battle under Gridania’s Guardian Tree – the black-masked Ascian, the first encounter she ever had with a person wearing their robes. Had it all been a ploy? She wanted to tell herself that it couldn’t have been – to what end?

The balance. It’s always about the balance with them, isn’t it?

The Seventh Umbral Calamity had been one of darkness – Astral, chaos – if Granye’s struggling memory recalled from Urianger’s lesson in his cottage in Il Mheg. And what had she become? The Warrior of Light. The only problem was that she had become too strong to bend to their plans.

A light weight on her arm brought her attention, and she looked down into Ryne’s concerned pale blue eyes. The others were still talking, but their words sounded faint to her.

“Are you all right?” she asked quietly. “I understand that this isn’t the news you wanted to hear…”

Granye forced a smile and patted her hand. “Aye. I’m nae exactly jumpin’ fer joy…but I’ll be fine. Thanks fer askin’, dove.”

Ryne opened her mouth, about to speak, when Dulia-Chai’s delighted voice cut across everything.

“Oh my, what a spectacular sky!”

They all turned toward The Grand Dame’s Parlour’s opulent panoramic window view, only to see dark – almost abyssal – sky. She blinked when she thought she saw a faint streak of orange sputter and die on the horizon. Until she saw it again.

Her feet carried her through the parlour at a run, urging her to push past the other Scions who also rushed to see. Granye almost flew off the boardwalk when the sky opened up over her head, aglow with dark orange storm clouds, and streaks of fire tearing across them. Her gaze continued to lift up, following the flashes of lightning until she craned her neck to see the swirling vortex of orange looming directly above, snapping with bolts of electricity and bellowing distant, thunderous booms.

“Is that… Amaurot!?” Ryne’s baffled gasp beside her wrenched Granye’s gaze from the seemingly falling heavens, and to the horizon.

Her gut churned and a cold sweat broke over her back. The once sunken city stood upon the waves, wobbling in place like a mirage, a ghost determined to haunt her just as much as its re-creator did.

Scenes came unbidden to her mind replacing the already fading view of Amaurot’s twisting spires – gentle faceless robed figures, falling to their knees under ash and fire, disappearing into a smouldering hell. The world from above, a marble pock-marked with flames and death, the end of everything they held dear. The hollow roar of Therion’s many faces, eyes and mouth blooming with harsh white light as it howled a destructive spell into being.

And then suddenly the deafening boom of an explosion rocked above her very head. She flinched violently, hunching over and slapping her hand over her ears, gritting her teeth as heat licked at her back. All she could think of were the meteors, crushing those helpless Ancients beneath their cosmic weight.

She didn’t realise she was shaking until she opened her eyes to see Alphinaud standing under her, reaching up with his hands to hold her wrists. She could feel her arms practically rattling in his gentle, loose grasp. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear what he was saying, her ears still ringing with Therion’s bellow.

“Should we make a stand here? Or retreat to the Crystarium?”

Ryne’s questions cleaved through her fog like a hot knife, a bell ringing clearly through the din. The Crystarium.

“Granye, can you hear me?” Alphinaud’s voice reached her next, and then slowly the rest all filtered in.

“I…I have to go.”

“We have to go.” he corrected, not letting go of her wrists even as she lowered her hands. “We’re under attack, Granye. We have to lead our foe away from these people. Do you understand?”

The way she blinked several times more, staring out to the horizon before she nodded shakily, gave Alphinaud little comfort.

“You are to stay in the rear beside me, Granye. Understood?”

He expected – hoped – for some kind of joke or sass at him being the one to order her, but she only nodded again.

-~-~-~-~-~-

Thancred was forced to crash-land their borrowed airship in the rocky canyons of Ahm Araeng. The fact that the starshower continued even as they crossed from Kholusia and entered the hot landscape was not lost on Granye. She could only assume that the falling sky was visible all over Norvrandt, and that meant Elidibus was only ramping up his efforts. Despite the battle they had already waged, and the fresh wound in her shoulder, she knew she would have to be braced to face him again, and soon.

Alphinaud was keeping true to his word, flanking her as they stayed farther towards the back of their group, Thancred and Ryne leading the charge with Urianger and Alisaie close behind. Y’shtola, she noticed, was also lingering closer to her than the others. It wasn’t wholly a surprise after what had happened in Amaurot. They put down the first batch of glittering gold spectral warriors quickly, but before they could bemoan the gaping hole in the trolley tracks that yawned before them, shouts from above caught their attention.

“Hah! When I saw that airship come down, I had my suspicions, but it is you!”

People from Mord Souq were lined up along the ledge, waving and jumping, and she recognised Cassard waving down at them. The Mords at his side chattered to each other before man and beast alike all began to push a great big red boulder that was situated next to them. Thancred and Ryne both bolted from the vanguard as it began to fall, the collision of stone-on-stone cracking mightily through the canyon, ringing their ears and making them all cringe as the enormous boulder fell into the hole.

“I haven’t the faintest what’s going on, but you’d best keep moving!” Cassard hollered down at them, waving exaggeratedly, even as he beamed.

They waved their thanks and picked their way over the uneven boulder’s surface, Thancred crossing first and waiting on solid ground. He leaned over, taking Ryne’s hand and guiding her over the gap. “A little warning wouldn’t have gone amiss.” he muttered, the sight of the giant rock tilting toward him still seared into his mind.

Alisaie jumped clear over the gap on her own after Ryne was clear. “I can’t fault their haste when we are somewhat pressed for time.” she said quietly, taking the moment to wave at the people remaining on the ledge.

Not even a minute later down the path and more glowing white sigils blossomed over the red earth, golden warriors emerging from the pillars of light left in their wake. “This is rather getting on my nerves!” Thancred declared, settling into a fighting stance once again.

The ground rumbled yet again, and they froze, staring as instead of another rock, two Talos dropped down behind the spectral warriors. A smile crossed Thancred’s face as the warriors glanced back, their focus suddenly divided as they were boxed in. “Well, perhaps it’s not all bad.”

-~-~-~-~-~-

It wasn’t until they entered Lakeland and were joined suddenly by Giott, Cerigg, Granson and Lue-Reeq that Granye’s mind began to churn instead of idle numbly. Their presence and banter as they seamlessly folded into fighting alongside the Scions made her think of the evenings when they would meet, drink and dine at the Wandering Stairs. The place where she had made so many new and delightful memories, not just with them, but with the folks who worked there, and with…

The multicoloured crystals weighed heavily in her satchel.

She couldn’t let Elidibus get away with this. She couldn’t allow him to take this world – a world that had barely clawed its way back from oblivion – and condemn it, and the people who filled it, again.

She would try. She had to try. If not for her sake, then for the Ascian she had left behind.

Of course she was still upset at him. Of course she was frustrated. But as light gathered around Giott’s tiny fist, building to an audible hum, Granye remembered that day at the Aetherochemical Research Facility. She remembered the fire that consumed her – the determination to do what she wanted, not to bow to the pressure of others. She remembered how Igeyohrm’s death had crushed to dust what little restraint she had left after losing both Haurchefant and Ysayle to dreaded duty.For too long she had been scared of Elidibus – how to handle him, how to approach him, how she would endure their inevitable clash. Ever since she saw the mirror in Yotsuyu’s hands in Castrum Fluminis, she had been afraid of him.

Granye had tried to mend the seemingly enormous divide between their kind with Emet, and he had rebuked her with betrayal and turmoil. He had pushed her to the very edge of her wits, and his death had only caused her more grief.

This time she had to do better. She had to fight harder – for her beliefs, for her goals. And for the soul she had shackled to flesh.

She would never forgive herself if she was the reason Lahabrea was the sole survivor of his kind.

So, she would find Elidibus and she would make him back down. She would tamp down his primal instincts if she had to. She would rise up as many times as he knocked her down and force him to see sense. If he had forgotten…then she would make him remember. Even if it cost her everything.

“Granye. Are you all right?” Alphinaud asked, looking up at her. She wore a terribly pensive frown, and hadn’t even waved goodbye to the four adventurers who had joined them when they parted ways at the huge stone gate.

With a blink Granye looked down at him, a slow smile spreading over her lips and easing the crinkle in her brow. “Aye. Sorry to have worried ye, Alphie.”

“Seriously? This is a real person somewhere?” Thancred’s disbelief made them both look toward him. He was staring at a giant hulking muscle-bound man clad in pelts and with a beast’s head around his own, hefting an enormous cudgel of a blade.

Alphinaud watched their champion ready her bow and follow Thancred and the others into the area that would evidently be their arena of battle. From the moment the skies had filled with dark clouds and the mirage of falling stars, she’d had the same distant, haunted stare in her eyes. He’d seen it before, and both times it had been the wake of devastating loss. Her reassurance had done little to truly soothe him. Alphinaud had a sinking feeling that Granye would be struggling with her emotions again, and soon.

-~-~-~-~-~-

She hated leaving the Scions behind. Sure, it had been the most sensible decision, and it wasn’t like the last time they had pushed her forward, staying behind one-by-one until…

They had all come an incredibly long way since the Bloody Banquet. She had to stop fretting.

Granye fixed her gaze upon the Crystal Tower’s blue spire, glittering a sickly dull hue against the murky burnt sky. There was no doubt in her mind that Elidibus had seized the Tower and was now using it – and G’raha Tia – to summon the endless waves of shades. Which meant she’d be in for one hell of a fight. And if Lahabrea had decided to throw his lot in with the Emissary… She didn’t want to consider that. He wouldn’t be an obstacle on her path like he had in the past, but he would certainly present his own challenges.

The sound of faint moaning brought her to a screeching halt, boots sliding over the dirt path. Moaning, out here, in this situation? Granye scanned the lilac forest to her right, then her left, eyes carefully raking the ground beneath the trees.

There was no chance she could miss the bright, unnaturally blue glow slumped to the forest floor beneath the shadow of some particularly large trees. The blue glow, and the red robe.

“G’raha!?”

She was sprinting up the incline towards him before he even managed to lift his head. Only when she was closer did she realise that the unidentifiable mass beside him was Beq Lugg, the poor Nu Mou keeled over on their side.

“What in the seven hells happened!?”

The air felt sucked from her lungs when G’raha’s lifted head revealed that the blue crystal that had so recently extended across to his other arm was now blooming up through his very clothes, circling tighter around his throat like a noose.

“My friend… How did you…?”

“Never mind tha’, robin! What happened?”

“Elidibus… He took us unawares.” G’raha grimaced, before staggering, slumping ever further as his body began to violently shake. The glowing blue parts of his arms shone brighter, and flakes of crystalline shards began to peel off him. Granye dropped to her kneels, hands ready to render aid. But what aid could she possibly give him for this?

“It was all we could do…to raise a ward to hinder his steps… And so we fled…” Beq Lugg whimpered, barely able to move. “But he took it… The vessel with the Exarch’s memories… Forgive me… Forgive me…”

Granye reached out and gently put her hand on their head, trying to soothe them. “’s all right, love. He’s not an easy bugger to come up against. I‘s all right.”

G’raha Tia hissed against the ebbing pain in his limbs, inhaling sharply. This feeling, he knew, was the side effect of Elidibus’ abuse of the Tower. “The vessel bears not only my memories, but my blood – the blood of Allagan royalty…granting him the means to control the tower. And with it, he as performed I know not how many summonings, calling forth heroes from across the rift. And as you can see,” he held out his arms, riddled with dull and glowing blue crystal alike, “the burden upon the tower is beginning to tell.”

“Upon the tower? Upon yerself more like!” Her face scrunched up into a tight frown. “…If I didnae have to save me strength fer the bloody Emissary, I’d cuff ye one right now, robin!” G’raha looked at her, surprised, and Granye met his gaze. “…This is how ye got to be part crystal in the first place, isnae it? Because ye were tryin’ to summon me.”

He sheepishly forced a smile. “Not entirely, I assure you.”

The way her scowl deepened in her brow told him she wasn’t convinced. She got to her feet. “You leave ‘lidibus to me. I’ll cut off his use o’ the tower right quick.”

“No! I won’t let you go alone. Not this time.” He struggled to his feet before she could protest. “The Crystal Tower is my responsibility. The Crystarium… I cannot allow his exploitation of the people’s hopes and dreams to go unpunished.” He held her gaze firmly – a look that reminded her of the day the doors of the Crystal Tower closed behind him. “I am going to the Crystal Tower, with or without your blessing – though I would rather it were with.”

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “…I cannae persuade ye to sit still?”

“You cannot.”

His condition deeply concerned her. His clothes were turning to crystal for goodness’ sake! But he would not back down. She deflated with a sigh and looked away. “Fine. But the moment you have any issues, we’re stoppin’!”

G’raha’s ears bounced up and his face lit up with a smile. “Thank you, my friend!” He looked back at Beq Lugg. “I will send for help. Stay strong, my friend, and take heart. Though mine own unfortunately slipped our grasp, it is due to your bravery that we rescued the other spirit vessels from Elidibus’ clutches.”

Granye knelt down and patted Beq Lugg comfortingly one more time before the two of them set off. At first she was worried that G’raha would keel over, but it seemed like his stride was unaffected.

“First I would make haste to Accensor Gate – only briefly.”

“Aye! Can ye manage a run?”

“My arms are stiff, not my legs.” he teased. Granye pulled her bone flute from the aether and blew the melody of a Peloton, invigorating winds gently brushing around them for a moment. “Start runnin’!”

Only once the Accensor Gate was on the horizon, its wooden posts and beams poking over the brown rock mountains, did Granye cease the casting of Peloton to hasten their steps.

“G’raha, I have to make a detour ‘fore we climb the tower.” she admitted, needing to warn him before it was too late.

He glanced at her and nodded. “You wish to speak with Lahabrea.”

Granye’s shoulders slumped as they walked. “Is it really that obvious?” He only smiled and shrugged gingerly. “I’m sorry, robin. With the state yer in-”

“Please, there is no need to apologise. I completely understand your fears. I can say that Elidibus seemed to be none the wiser to his presence in the Crystarium. His focus was wholly fixed upon using the tower to his advantage.”

His observation brought her more relief than she would have liked. But G’raha’s gaze lingered on her.

“Not to put too great a pressure upon you, but do you have a plan?”

Her face seemed incapable of making any expression other than frowning today. “I might. But I need to see ‘brea first. An’ even then…it’s a bloody long shot at best.”

“Do what you must. I shall lift the ward only when you are ready. …I have faith you will succeed, Granye. There’s an indefatigable air of determination about you.” he added after a moment.

Granye flashed him a smile. Whatever that meant.

They came upon the outpost and two Crystarium guards met the at the gate, both of them having to look twice to realise who had arrived at their post.

“W-Warrior of Darkness! Exarch! We were not notified of your coming!” stammered the elf.

G’raha shook his head. “It wasn’t planned. I need you to assemble a rescue party. Our friend Beq Lugg lies wounded in a clearing to the west. Pray go to their aid with all haste.”

“At once, my lord! M-May I ask how they came to harm? There’ve been reports of enemies in our midst – spectres who appeared after the starshower. Do they have something to do with it?”

He seemed reluctant to answer, and Granye thought perhaps she could come up with some sort of excuse-

“Yes. The man who attacked Beq Lugg is also responsible for the starshower and the appearance of the spectres.”

She blinked rapidly, surprised that he just came right out and said it. She had gotten so used to him hiding secrets as the ‘Crystal Exarch’ that it felt novel to hear it come right out and tell them the truth.

“I have no time to explain, but know that the individual in question does not seek to do indiscriminate harm. If you do not bar his servants’ path, they will not turn on you. You are to leave this foe to us, understood? Meanwhile, I ask that you alert the rest of the guard, and focus on maintaining calm in the city.”

“Understood.” Another familiar voice answered, prompting them all to look back behind the guards.

“Lyna!” The authority with which G’raha had just addressed the two guards evaporated at the sight of her, clad in her outstanding red-caped uniform.

“I shall take charge of matters in the city. Find Beq Lugg – now!” she ordered the elf and galdjent guards, sending them off at as great a sprint as their armour would allow.

“‘No time to explain’… Hmph.” G’raha’s ears drooped when Lyna crossed her arms, repeating his words back at him. “The graver the matter, the less inclined you are to speak of it. Even when it is plain for all to see – like what is happening to you.” When her eyes pointedly stared at his now crystalline left hand he almost tried to hide it behind his robes.

“Lyna… This time there truly is no time.”

The captain seemed resigned to such words, but she wore a smile. “I know, my lord. Were matters otherwise, I believe you would even be willing to speak of your past if pressed.” She lowered her head. “Yet I remain afraid to do so. Afraid that what I might learn would make a stranger of you.” She shook her head, chastising herself. “…Forgive me. There is no time.”

Granye glanced down at the miqo’te and widened her eyes, lifting her brows and glancing back at Lyna once she had his attention. She tilted her head toward Lyna before more aggressively nodding in her direction.

Crude a pantomime as it was, G’raha understood what she was indicating full well. He nodded and walked toward her, stopping a few steps away.

“…Lyna. Do you remember the time you got lost in the tower when you were little, and I searched for you for hours on end? And the cake I baked for your tenth nameday. That hideous lump the good people of the Mean covered up with beautiful candles…” His hands began to rub one another, making a muted crystal clinking sound as he couldn’t help but soothe himself. “And your hapless first encounter with the sin eaters as a guard. Afterwards, you threw yourself into your training, pretending nothing was wrong, though I could see the tears in your eyes…”

Lyna lifted her head, staring at him with her mouth slightly ajar, eyes swimming with emotion as he fondly recounted events – events which she was sure he had forgotten. And when he met her gaze, it was with the same loving expression she remembered glimpsing from under that nigh eternally up hood when she was a child, still short enough to see underneath it.

“All these moments that we shared, all the feelings that accompanied them…they are as real as aught that came before, and nothing will ever change that – will ever change what we mean to one another.” His head bowed. “If I have made you worry, then I beg your forgiveness. Heavens know you deserve better – that you deserve the time. Through the darkest of days, you have kept faith with me, standing tall as a proud daughter of the Crystarium – as an example to us all. I count myself blessed to have had you in my life, and I want you to know that.”

She let out a shaky exhale, looking down and to the side. “Why do you speak so? As if this were our last meeting? Truly, you have a knack for making people worry.” It was the only thing she could say to keep her voice from shaking. G’raha leaned back, startled, glancing back at Granye who only clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Besides,” Lyna continued, “it is you who are an example to us all. You who have led us through countless trials. And you who will lead us through countless trials to come. So go, my lord. Do what you must. …But take care.”

He nodded. “I will. And once this is over, I will make time. I will answer all your questions. I swear.”

-~-~-~-~-~-

The sky was falling again.

Something was definitely wrong with him. He was standing there, staring out the window like a dumbstruck namazu. Wasn’t his plan supposed to be to go looking for Elidibus? If this didn’t herald the Emissary’s return to Lakeland, then Lahabrea wasn’t sure what did.

But instead of seeking out his brethren, like he had so daringly schemed, he was sitting in the inn room, waiting. Waiting for what, exactly? Did he expect Elidibus to somehow know he was sequestered away in the Pendants? Was he expecting rescue?

Deep in his soul, he knew what he was waiting for. Who.

Where there was trouble, she was bound to follow. And yet…the sky had remained full of clouds and meteors for quite some time. Perhaps she was still on the Source and wouldn’t learn of this until much later.

Then…what were they to do in the meantime?

…How strange it was – how absurd – to be on their side of unfolding events for once.

He contemplated sending a missive to one of the Scions – Ryne or one of the twins, at any rate – asking for any updates. Lahabrea had kept to himself for days and had little idea what they were doing. He could guess. If Elidibus was making his move, then surely he would have deployed what black-masked members of their ranks remained. Such tasks were usually left to others, like himself. But without others there to fulfil their roles, Elidibus would have to work doubly hard.

The sudden rattle of the door behind him nearly made Lahabrea’s soul jump out of his flesh, wards be damned. Who dared to shatter his days of introspective silence with such a noise?!

They were both catching their breath as their eyes locked.

She looked wrung out. There were smudges of dust on her face – she’d already been in a fight. He couldn’t help but wonder what it had been about this time.

“Granye.” Her name was a croak on his suddenly parched tongue.

Without ceremony or warning, Granye swept toward him and put her hand on his shoulder, herding him away from the window and to the table. Caught by surprise, he could only follow her lead.

“We dinnae have enough time. I need ye to tell me right now,” she pulled out a small pouch and tugged open the drawstrings, then carefully poured its contents onto the table, “which one is ‘lidibus’?”

Lahabrea’s eyes fell slowly to the glittering multicoloured array of baubles suddenly before him. For a moment he didn’t recognise them. The colours swam, the shapes blurred until he blinked a few times and focused. His eyes widened slightly, and his heart felt both like a stone and about to leap from his throat all at once.

“Where…where did you get these?”

“’brea, please, I dinnae have time. Which one?”

His first instinct was to hiss and shout, to demand his answers first. How had she come across their most valued artifacts!? What – who – gave her permission to even gaze upon them, let alone to possess them!?

His hand stretched out, fingertips brushing over the many faceted faces of the crystals sprawled haplessly before him. His hand came to a stop over the grey, colourless stone, almost entranced by its pale shimmer. He picked it up carefully and placed it in his palm, cradling it.

“…This one. This is his.”

She had never seen Lahabrea so subdued under his own will. He seemed to be elsewhere, in a trance. Until he looked up at her with an unusually distressed expression.

“What is happening?”

She plucked the grey stone from his hand, visibly startling him, his gaze following the stone as she put it one of her many pockets. “What are you planning to do with that!?” he shouted, crowding her, glaring up at her face, a mere breath away from reaching out his hands to search her person for it.

“Which one is yers?”

His face twisted in anger as she bushed his questions aside. “Granye-!”

“’brea, I really do not have time to explain! Please, which one is yers?”

He slowly settled back on his heels and looked back down to the pile. He picked out the light blue stone, this time clutching it tightly so as not to allow her the opportunity to snatch it. To his dismay, she began to gently sweep the rest of the crystals back into the pouch. Panic seized him and he grabbed her arm with his free hand, squeezing it tight enough to make her pause.

“Whatever it is you’re planning to do with them, you cannot! They are far too precious to be misused!”

She shut her eyes, a deep sigh escaping her. “…I know. I know what they are. I know.”

“I really don’t think you do!” he insisted dubiously.

But she only prised his hand off her, put the pouch back in a secure bag and stepped away from him. It was an act that made the pit of his stomach writhe. She wasn’t answering any of his questions, or assuaging any of his fears. It almost felt like she couldn’t…

She was at the door before he managed to muster his words.

“Granye!”

She stopped, tilting her head only slightly back in his direction, as if she didn’t have the time to even look at him properly.

“What are you going to do?”

Her silence was so heavy that he feared she would leave without answer. But turn around she did, and it became all too apparent that her brusque behaviour was not due to a continued grudge against him. She was on the verge of tears.

“Everythin’. I’m goin’ to do everythin’ I can. …Be safe, Lahabrea.”

She was gone as suddenly as she came, leave the door open in her wake, and a yawning pit in his gut. His hand squeezed his crystal tightly, until the sharp edges bit into his skin.

She had said goodbye like that once before – it was still a vivid enough memory to give him goosebumps.

It was just like their meeting at the Bureau of the Secretariat.

She was going into a battle that she wasn’t confident she would survive.

——————–

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