Page 27 of The Last Remaining Light

There was no glory and no heroics from warriors, whether human or Astrari. There was just fear and collapse and impossible choices made by all parties involved.

“What actually happened at Astermere?” The question escaped in a whisper before she could stop it.

Caelyn went utterly still, his eyes softening as he looked toward her determined and pained expression.

Rain continued to batter the windows overhead, and then a flash of light followed by a wall-shuddering crack of thunder.

Neither flinched.

Elowynn stared down at the pages rather than looking toward him or anywhere else.

“No one tells me anything directly,” she admitted, voice hushed. “Not Mother. Not Agatha. Every conversation regarding Astermere stops the moment I enter the room.” Her fingers gripped the edge of the book. “I know the currents ruptured beneath the mountains, but that cannot be the whole truth.”

Caelyn remained silent long enough that she finally looked up. Something guarded had settled across his face, and she didn't understand why.

“El…” he said softly.

She blinked at him. “What?”

His jaw clenched before relaxing again, and he swallowed, his throat working as he searched for the words.

“I think some things hurt people more than others… because they survived them.”

At first she didn't know what he was talking about. But then the answer struck harder than she expected.

Before she could respond, however, voices drifted from the far end of the library where two traveling scholars had entered from the lower archive corridors.

“…another southern outpost was lost last moon.”

“Starless?”

“So they claim.”

“I thought the Ash Wars ended turnings ago.”

A bitter laugh followed. “Tell that to the people still burying their dead.”

The words hovered over the library as their conversation shifted to more scholarly topics. Even the younger Sisters nearby had gone quiet, the mood growing somber and fearful.

Elowynn exchanged a glance with Caelyn as something uneasy moved beneath her ribs. For turnings, Lumenshire had felt untouched by the world’s unraveling. Safe. Distant from the horrors spreading beyond the mountains.

But the rumors had been pouring in more frequently. Rumors saying the border settlements of the northern reaches were becoming abandoned, and prices were increasing in the markets because trade routes were becoming impassable due to exposed currents. There was even rumor that those same currents were darkening farther south than before.

And now, Agatha had begun assigning war histories as though she were preparing Elowynn for something.

Was it coincident?

That thought followed her long after the early evening bells rang across the abbey.

The rain finally broke near duskfall, leaving the cliffs wrapped in their familiar, silver fog while the western horizon burned a faint gold from the setting sun beneath the clouds. Elowynn stood alone near the sea-facing balcony outside the observatory tower with one of the Ash War texts still tucked beneath her arm.

Footsteps approached behind her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

“You disappeared after supper. You didn’t want the lemon pie Sister Maelin made?” Caelyn asked.

“I wanted air,” she replied.

Caelyn watched her for a moment before squinting. “You hate cold air because it makes your pointy ears red.”