G’raha Tia was singing.

He was a very good singer, Brynne was surprised to realize – though she wasn’t sure why that surprised her. His speaking voice was already beautiful. When singing, it was lovely.

They were sitting at the campfire that had been setup as sort of a central place to relax during the expedition. Brynne sat directly across from G’raha, and she could watch as he sang what was supposed to be a song passed down in his tribe.

She didn’t know much about tribe living; Keepers of the Moon were more integrated into general society, living as small family units rather than a large tribe. G’raha, apparently, had spent most of his life in Sharlayan, though she wasn’t sure of the circumstances, but he had been part of a tribe in his early life and evidently he remembered some of the music.

The song came to an end, and everyone applauded. G’raha looked rather pleased with himself, soaking in all the praise.

Brynne waited until it had quieted down some and then spoke. “That was wonderful, G’raha!” She smiled fondly at him. “Do you suppose you could favor us with another?”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” He shook his head regretfully. “I have to get shot, you see.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Pardon?”

The stage shifted; abruptly he was the Exarch, standing before her with G’raha’s face revealed and bathed in the Light essence that swirled around them both. “I’m afraid my time is up,” he announced. “Fair you well, my friend. My inspiration.”

A shot rang out, and he was falling, falling…

---

Brynne’s eyes shot open, heart still pounding from the nightmare. The ceiling in her room at the Pendants came into focus, and she stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending. Then at once, it all came rushing back; her eyes widened and she sat up sharply.

G’raha… the Light…

“Ah.” That was Ardbert’s voice; Brynne turned her head and found him lingering at the center of the room. “Finally.”

She shook her head, trying to clear it. The Light within her roiled, and her vision seemed outlined in white at the edges. “What… What happened?”

“After you collapsed, Emet-Selch vanished,” Ardbert spoke evenly. “Then Ryne did what she could to stay the raging of the Light within your body. Thanks to her, you’re still you, but she’s only delayed the inevitable.”

The inevitable… Right. Brynne recalled the way the Light swelled within her, bursting at the seams of her body – her soul – with no way to release the excess. She had felt the beginnings of the change, agonizing and all-consuming. It had been ready to claim her, of that she was sure; she raised a hand to her chest, feeling that swell down deep inside, contained.

And then the Exarch had come, and everything went straight to hell.

He had planned to die! From the start! Brynne felt her heart ache, recalling back to all of those wistful smiles, the half-promises of ‘revisiting the matter’ and ‘I will be free’. He had known all along that there was no chance of being with her, and he’d refused her despite his obvious desires – all to save her life!

And then he had failed.

“You’re not going to like what you see,” Ardbert cautioned, as she moved to push herself from the bed, “but you still need to see it.” He motioned toward the window.

She hurried over to push it open, and was near-blinded by the light that came rushing into the room. The sky above the Crystarium was once again covered by Light, eternal day blanketed across the land.

“It’s like this all over. The whole of Norvrandt is shrouded in Light again.” Ardbert shook his head, his expression sympathetic. “And it’s because of you and the power you absorbed from the Wardens.”

Because of me… She had worried that this would happen. Brynne once again touched a hand to her chest. She was still dressed in her armor, as if readying for battle. In a sense, perhaps she would be going into one… a battle to make sense of it all.

“No one knows but your friends,” Ardbert assured her, though she hadn’t yet thought to ask for such assurance. “When they carried you down from the mountain, they told everyone waiting below that they didn’t understand why the Light had returned. And now they’re out there trying to allay the people’s fears while searching for a way to save you.”

Brynne looked down at her hands. In her white-outlined vision, they seemed to glow with the ever-present Light that roiled beneath the surface. As long as she carried that Light – the equivalent of five Lightwardens – Norvrandt would never be saved. Even if she were killed, that would leave the next poor soul to take on the burden. And then, of course, there was the fact that she was only herself for an indeterminate period of time…

“If you’re well enough to be up, you’re well enough to get some fresh air.” Ardbert’s voice cut into her thoughts. He gave her a pointed look. “Better that than stewing in here. Go on. Go.”

He had the right of it. Brynne shut her eyes, breathed in deeply to stabilize herself, and turned to leave the room.

---

In the end, there was no question what she would do. Perhaps her attitude was what had made her into a Warrior of Light in the first place. Upon receiving her Echo vision of the Exarch’s conversation with Urianger, the pieces of the puzzle now fit neatly together.

Indeed, there was a way for both G’raha and the Tower to be on the Source and the First at once.

That didn’t matter, though. Brynne was already thinking fast, her hands curling into fists at her sides as she contemplated that fatalistic plan the Exarch had come up with, and his willingness to sacrifice his life without taking anything for himself. After one hundred years! He intended to die a villain after having given his lifetime – several lifetimes – for the sake of saving her life!

It was outrageous! She wouldn’t stand for it. No, there was nothing for it but to see that plan ground into so much refuse beneath her boot heel.

“Careful, now.” Once again, Ardbert’s voice cut into her thoughts. “If you lose control again, the Light could claim you for good. Although it’s probably only a matter of time before you succumb to the change, in any case.” He was watching her carefully. “What do you mean to do?”

“What do you think I mean to do?” Brynne snapped furiously. “I’m going to this Tempest place and I’m rescuing the Exarch, and he will bloody well get a happy ending whether he likes it or not!”

Seriously, she had already been sleeping for who knows how many days while he was being held prisoner by Emet-Selch, of all people! For all she knew, he was being tortured for information. Just the thought of it had her sick with worry. Emet-Selch had founded the Garlean empire and he’d been around for millenia. She couldn’t even imagine how he’d go about extracting information from someone who didn’t want to provide it.

Ardbert’s expression immediately lightened at her answer. “Then we should be on our way. The Ascian mentioned the Tempest, did he not? That’s ‘the stormy seas around Kholusia’ to you. His lair must be down there somewhere, hidden beneath the waves.”

That was enough to start with. Brynne turned on her heel and immediately left the Umbilicus behind.

---

She should have anticipated that her fellow Scions would not let her go alone. When they proclaimed their solidarity, she was more gratified than surprised. And to see the leaders of the Crystarium giving her a send-off was heartening.

Still, unease fluttered in her ribcage like a trapped moth. The Exarch was a prisoner, and no one knew when she might start to turn. Both of those fears were gnawing at her relentlessly.

Y’shtola came up to her side as they were making their way towards Sullen. “When the Exarch was unmasked,” she began without preamble, “you called out for G’raha Tia.”

“That’s because he is G’raha Tia,” Brynne responded, still preoccupied with her dark thoughts. She bit her bottom lip briefly. “Didn’t Urianger tell you?”

“The pertinent details, yes.” Y’shtola was watching her carefully. “That man attempted to die for you. I would say that your affections are reciprocated, wouldn’t you?”

“I know they are.” Brynne couldn’t help being a bit short with her friend. “I knew back then, and I knew before we found out his grand plan. That doesn’t help me if he gets himself killed, though, does it?”

Y’shtola nodded, unphased by her tone. “He certainly does seem to have a fatalistic streak. How unbecoming.” When Brynne turned to frown at her, she added, “Not that I’m criticizing your choice, of course. I’d imagine his devotion goes some ways towards making up for it.”

“It’s not just that.” Brynne sighed and shook her head. “He’s passionate, kind, and intelligent. He looks out for those who look to him for leadership, even after spurning a leadership position. He can keep up with me in battle, which I’m sure you know is impressive. And he’s resilient.” She thought on that for a second before continuing, “He endured for nigh on a century, with his resolve intact and his mind still sharp.”

“Indeed,” Y’shtola agreed. “And if need be, he can endure again.” She offered a kind smile. “Do not spend your limited energy on worry. Have faith that he will endure until you come for him.”

Brynne opened her mouth to argue, then abruptly shut it again. Y’shtola was right, of course. The Exarch had a will of steel, and he could endure. “I know you’re right,” she said reluctantly, “but I cannot help but worry all the same.”

Y’shtola nodded again. “I know all too well how your mind works – but do try to put such things to the back of your thoughts. Focus your energy instead on what we must do to reach him.”

The advice was pointed, though kindly given. Brynne nodded, taking in a breath. “I will try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

The road ahead would be rough, but that was nothing new. With renewed resolve, Brynne turned her gaze forward and her mind to the task at hand.

I will come for you, no matter what!

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