Page 197 of The Last Remaining Light

Agatha studied the man standing opposite her. Fear looked odd on Vaelor. She hadn’t seen him this afraid since the night he arrived at Lumenshire, twenty turnings ago, carrying a young boy who should not have survived. More gray threaded through his hair than she remembered. His eyes crinkled at the corners.

He looked older.

Eventually a laugh escaped him out of nowhere. The sound held little humor. "You were right."

Agatha folded her hands within her sleeves. "Not that I am wrong often, but that isn't nearly specific enough as to what you mean."

A tired smile briefly touched his face. "It’s never specific enough with you."

Silence hovered between them again. Old and familiar. The sort shared only by people who had spent decades carrying the same burden from opposite sides of the continent.

Vaelor's gaze drifted toward the dormant starway.

"They found the Meridian Ring."

Agatha nodded. "I assumed they would."

"The containment lattice is failing, Agatha."

"I know,” she responded.

"And the Starless are gathering more. I didn't see any Unlit, but—” He shook his head.

“—that doesn’t mean they weren’t there."

She said nothing else as her tired, amber eyes remained focused on the dormant sigils.

Finally, he turned fully toward her. "Do you know anything I don't?"

Agatha considered the question as she looked at him, then sighed so heavy, her shoulders lifted before deflating.

"Unfortunately, yes.”

Vaelor closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

When he spoke again, his voice had lost its edge. "How much time do we have?"

Agatha wished she knew.

The truth was she had spent many turnings searching archives, translating damaged manuscripts, and comparing records. The pieces never fit together cleanly. Too much had been lost. Too much had been buried.

Yet one detail appeared with troubling consistency. There were no dates or names, only warnings. The same warning appeared again and again across centuries.

She looked toward the dark starway. Toward the foundations beneath the abbey.

Then up toward the sleeping world above.

"Less time than the last generation had,” she said.

Vaelor's jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth.

Neither said anything more for a time, silently contemplating what to do next.

Far above them, waves crashed against the cliffs surrounding Lumenshire and the bells tolled. She couldn't hear them well down here, even with her Astrari hearing, but the memory of them was ingrained in her, reminding her of calmer turnings.

Agatha found herself thinking about Elowynn. About Caelyn. About the impossible path that had brought both of them back home.

The world would soon ask impossible things of them. Some burdens arrived whether one welcomed them or not.