Four hours later…

Free of darkness, the Nameless Girl lay fast asleep, tucked warmly beneath the thick folds of a woollen blanket. It would take months, perhaps even years, before she would awaken. But for now, the spectre of death would have to leave empty-handed.

Claire heaved a sigh of relief, leaning back into the plush softness of her armchair. Watching the Nameless Girl slumber so peacefully was a huge weight off her shoulders. It made her smile, especially when she briefly recalled, in passing, the nightmarish sleep the Nameless Girl had suffered for days and nights on end as she teetered on death’s door every step of the way to the Chantry of Eternal Light and the Sepulchre of God.

Truly, Iris was a miracle-maker. Thanks to her, the Nameless Girl would survive this cold night. Thereafter, Rinnah willing, she’d also survive the many winters to come. For that alone, the long trip across the mainland and the Silent Sea had been worth every hardship. It had wreaked a ruinous toll on an already ruined body, but it was worth it to save an innocent life.

By the break of dawn, she would awaken. Free of darkness, free to live her life in safety and comfort. And happiness. Rinnah willing, of course, as with so many things for those of the Order of Selene. For now, for what little time Claire had left, there was nothing to do but watch and wait.

Watch and wait, indeed. Quietly, Claire glanced at Iris, who sat in an adjacent armchair. Her posture was upright and stiff like a board, her golden eyes staring dead ahead of her. Staring at nothing in particular, seemingly. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic, yet deep, beads of sweat slowly trickling down the sides of her face.

Iris had spent a considerable amount of Mana to use Dispel Magic to remove the curse on the Nameless Girl, but it appeared to Claire, clear as the break of dawn, that even this was merely a minor exertion at best. Like jogging around the Chantry courtyard in summer, before autumn’s embrace. It was endearing, comforting even, knowing that Iris had only grown from strength to strength in her mastery of the Healer’s art in their years apart. And she was proud of her – Iris was once her Healer, after all.

Bowing her head solemnly, Claire tried to look away. But her eyes would not obey. It had been so long, far too long. And Iris was as beautiful as she had even been, as if the passage of time meant nothing to her beauty and good looks. As for herself, on the other hand… she knew all too well that it was best not to dwell on such matters.

“I received your letter from the Orc Shaman from the Iron Mountains,” Iris said quietly. “He is very grateful for what you have done for him.”

“Good to know that Mister Urok survived the trip here,” Claire answered just as quietly, her gaze fixated on her feet. “Is he safe? Is he adapting well to life in the Chantry?”

“Yes. He works at the library as an Apprentice. In time, he will take over as Librarian, for the current Librarian is getting old. She believes strongly that he will do an excellent job.”

“I see! I’m glad it all worked out for him. He wasn’t doing too well when I found him wandering the mainland.”

More silence. Claire held her fist up close to her lips and cleared her throat, looking Iris in the eye. The look on her face as she continued staring away betrayed nothing discernible. If Iris was offended or upset, it was clear she did not want to make it known. Then again, if she was truly upset, she would not be allowed into the Chantry at all.

“How about Elena? How is she?”

“The Mage Queen is well,” Iris answered curtly. “When she visited the Chantry three years ago, she asked about your whereabouts, but not since.”

“I see. She and I didn’t part on the best of terms either, I’m afraid.”

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“Lady de L’Enfer has her own way of expressing her feelings. She cares about you still.”

“If that’s the case… I’m unworthy of her grace, but nonetheless grateful.”

“She wishes you well.”

Yet again, there was silence. Claire frowned. She wanted to say something to Iris from the bottom of her heart. And yet, she found herself wanting. Cowering.

But no. That was not her way of doing things! It was now or never… and she had to say what was on her mind! With so little time left, it really did feel that way. And so…

“Iris! I just wanted to say! Umm…” Claire exclaimed with a burst of enthusiasm that quickly petered out like fireworks in the sky. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Saving her life,” Claire answered with a smile as she glanced at the Nameless Girl, still fast asleep on the couch. “If it weren’t for you… I feared the worst.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Iris answered coolly, her eyes still staring dead ahead of where she sat. “Nothing more.”

“I was worried you’d refuse to help… you know, after…”

“I am a Healer. It is what I do. You would have done the same for her.”

“Yes, that’s right! I would’ve done the same!” Claire exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with joy. “I shouldn’t have such doubts to begin with. I’m sorry. Oh, but where are my manners!? I haven’t seen you for so long, Iris. How have you been?”

“I have been better, Lady Silverlight. And you?”

“Me too, Iris. Me too!”

“If I am to be honest – I feared the worst of your death wish. I prayed for your safety.”

“Really now! Worried for me!? I’m disappointed! But I’m also… grateful. Thank you.”

“Alas, my concerns for your safety are unfounded,” Iris answered coyly, allowing herself a small smile while Claire’s grin grew wide and big. “Knowing what you are capable of, I should have directed my prayers to your enemies instead. They need them more than you ever will.”

“If those unworthy cravens should ever be so lucky! I’m…”

“Lady Silverlight!”

For a moment, Claire stared dumbfoundedly at Iris, who had gotten up from her armchair, rushing over to attend to her. And then she saw the blood pooled on the floor. Her blood.

“Are you alright?”

“Iris. I…”

Carefully, Claire placed a hand on her chin. It was wet with blood and spit. She tried to make sense of what had happened moments ago, trying her best to envision the sensation of pain that should have come to her with this sudden spilling of blood. But alas, nothing came to mind. And when the golden light of Iris’ Heal shone upon her, she tried to embrace its restorative warmth. But her mind remained blank, just as the magic did nothing for her.

Quietly, she frowned and bowed her head solemnly. Being unable to feel pain or soothing panacea was her blessing and her curse. Her greatest strength, and the very condition that would eventually be the death of her, in time. But this affliction, whatever it truly was, had served her well enough on the battlefield as she waded into the carnage without fear of death, inflicting upon monsters and evildoers alike that which she herself could never experience. It was for that reason that her enemies called her death incarnate. For like death itself, she was inevitable and unstoppable.

“Lady Silverlight…”

“It’s a lot worse than before… isn’t it?”

“There is a lot of blood. More than I have ever seen from you, years ago.”

“It has been quite a while since we last met, huh? It’s good to be back.”

“It is most regrettable that things turned out the way they did.”

Claire winced, her gaze veering towards the walls. They used to be adorned with photos of the two of them, framed in fanciful and ornate frames. These photos were memories, frozen in time to be preserved and remembered. Now, the wall was mostly barren.

Even so, one of the many remained – a photo of them on stage at the prayer hall, standing by each other’s side in ceremonial regalia so beautiful and regal that it tugged at her heartstrings to see it again. It was, after all, their coronation ceremony. When she and Iris became Ecclesiarch and Executor, serving the Order of Selene together. From within its antique white-gold frame, she could not help but notice that the image, stained and damaged, appeared to be of two halves painstakingly put back together again.

“Do you still hate me, Iris?” Claire asked quietly, hand on her other arm as she looked away vulnerably. “After what happened…”

“No longer,” Iris stated solemnly after contemplating. “I did, once. No longer.”

“Why not?”

“I am tired of hating. There was a time when I badly wanted to believe what I told you on the day you left, that you did not matter all that much to me. But it is a lie. Words said in anger, nothing more. And for that… I have regrets.”

“Iris, I…”

Claire bowed her head, her vision turning wet and blurry through her mask. It surprised her, for she had long dismissed her body, wracked in ruin, as no longer capable of responding like that or feeling anything. But it felt good to cry. And for her, feeling good was good enough.

“May I, Lady Silverlight?” Iris asked cautiously, her eyes upon Claire’s mask as her hands reached for its tarnished silver surface. “If you would allow it.”