Page 25 of The Last Remaining Light

“Oh, yes. I am well aware,” grumbled the elder Sister.

Agatha shoved two of the books directly into Elowynn’s arms without warning. She barely caught them in time, fumbling with one.

“What are these?”

“Your assignment!” Agatha said, tapping a gnarled finger atop one of the books.

Elowynn glanced down at the faded bindings.

Historical Resonance Failures During the Ash Wars.

Northern Aethercurrent Instability and Border Collapse.

A furrow creased Elowynn's brow as she turned her crystalline gaze toward Agatha, silent questions filling her expression.

“You are old enough to begin learning what truly happened beyond the northern reaches,” Agatha explained while continuing down the corridor. “We will educate you on this fully.”

Elowynn followed after her. “But I know what happened.”

“No,” Agatha replied flatly. “You know what you saw at only ten turnings and made assumptions based on the rumors you heard at a young age. You do not know the nuances of what transpired. It is time you learn and understand in full.”

That answer weighed on her, and Elowynn felt her stomach roil in protest.

Most discussions surrounding the Ash Wars remained fractured within Lumenshire. People spoke of them with care, as though the wrong phrasing might wake ghosts buried beneath the mountains. Elowynn knew pieces, of course. Burning cities. Aethercurrent collapses. Entire observatories abandoned after Starless outbreaks spread through the north. That was all common knowledge.

But even after all these turnings, no one spoke plainly about Astermere Hold and the Fall of House Selvicta.

The name itself still carried too much grief, but she had learned how to channel that grief into something productive—into study, into relentless questions. Into the desperate need to understand the world that had taken almost everything from her.

“You've avoided the subject before, anytime I asked about it,” Elowynn pointed out.

Agatha’s expression didn't change, but her voice lost some of its edge. “Because you were a child, Elowynn.”

“And now?” Elowynn asked.

A tired sigh escaped Agatha. “Now you are becoming dangerously more curious, and I would rather you've accurate information rather than rumors.” She waved her hand back and forth. “Something, something curiosity killed the rat. I don’t want you being the rat, you understand?”

“You mean cat,” Elowynn corrected. “And that is not technically an answer, Sister.”

Agatha sniffed and clasped her weathered hands once more before her as she walked.

“Semantics, dear.”

The scent of cedar smoke and old parchment permeated the area as they made their way into the library below the abbey. Several younger Sisters hurried between the shelves carrying stacks of books while Astrylite lanterns pushed back the gray gloom filtering through the windows overhead.

Elowynn spotted Caelyn right away and her thoughts scattered upon seeing him. He sat near the far hearth sorting damaged resonance charts. At seventeen turnings, Caelyn had fully outgrown the awkwardness of adolescence. Strength was making itself known, his body continuously shaped by many moons of physical labor around the grounds. His untied dark hair brushed the edges of his shoulders, and his eyes had become an even deeper green over the last turning; they reminded her of her clear tidepools along the lower sea cliffs.

His gaze lifted toward her instinctively the moment she entered the room, and he smiled. That smile alone had become quite hazardous to her concentration.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” he smirked.

Elowynn hefted the books, indicating them, before lulling her head toward Agatha. “I was ambushed by educational materials.”

Caelyn glanced toward the books in her arms before visibly wincing at the titles. “Agatha finally gave you the war histories, I take it?”

“Apparently I am now considered emotionally stable enough for devastation,” Elowynn said flatly.

Agatha snorted before disappearing without a word, deeper into the archive corridors. Elowynn scowled after her before she crossed toward the hearth, grateful for the heat as the rain intensified outside.