Chapter 1: Part 5 - Ashes

Seeing the guild hall burn wasn’t quite like watching her life go up in smoke, but it wasn’t far off. Erin stood on the docks of Lion’s Arch, trying to be stoic about the fact that there was nothing left of the place but a pall of smoke overhead and a greasy stain on the ground. The wooden walls had been old and dry; they’d burnt quickly and with significant heat. The Lionguard, presumably used to such fires, had done nothing but hold back the crowds.

The crowds were now gone, but Erin remained. She’d had a long life, of travel and fighting and trying to do some small good in the world. The guild hall of Light’s Memory had felt more meaningful than all that, though – and now it was gone.

Ivar and Roan were the first into the wreckage. Erin watched as Ivar sifted through his broken tools, then turned his attention to the statue beside his workstation. She winced as he and Roan hauled it out onto the quay in a cloud of dust. Blaise’s face was caked in black debris, his hopeful expression hidden. Whisper was completely obscured by a pile of ash.

Ivar patted the statue on the shoulder. “He’ll clean up.”

“Maybe,” Erin said, which was the best agreement she could muster. The rest of the guild hall certainly wouldn’t.

On her other side, Darr cleared his throat. She had no idea how old the asura was, but he’d taken to walking with a cane in recent months. He leaned on it now, the other hand resting on a crate of paperwork. Erin didn’t know how he’d managed to take it with him when he fled the flames, but she suspected they’d all be glad he had.

“The Lionguard are investigating,” he said, sounding almost amused. “They won’t find anything.”

Ivar’s forehead creased. “What is there to find? I always said the forge should have been outside.”

Erin winced again. She’d always agreed with Ivar; there just hadn’t been anywhere else to put it.

“A spark from the forge?” Darr sounded genuinely curious, as though he couldn’t quite understand their thinking, but wanted to. “You were standing right next to it. Did you see any flames?”

Ivar was still frowning. “No.”

“And is there any chance your workstation could have caught fire without you noticing?”

Ivar’s jaw tightened. “It’s possible,” he said finally. “If there was soot inside the chimney, a spark could have ignited it.”

Darr still looked as though he’d just discovered a new species of fish and was wondering whether it was edible. “That’s certainly one theory,” he said.

Erin swung to him. “What are you saying? That someone burnt down the guild hall from the outside?”

There was silence as they all absorbed that. Ivar looked shocked, Roan disgruntled. Erin had a feeling she looked like she’d been slapped. Yet it wasn’t much of a stretch, was it? Ivar had been telling her, mere moments before the fire, that they were at risk of angering Yinn’s powerful friends. Arson seemed beneath them, but maybe this was only the opening volley.

Which meant they had to be ready for whatever came next.

“Darr, I want you to get Spark and Weir back here. Caolinn, too. I don’t care what they’re working on.”

Darr nodded. “Marissa?”

“I need her in Queensdale.” Marissa had surely seen the smoke before she left the city, but she hadn’t come back. Erin wasn’t sure whether that was callousness, or simply good sense. She’d have immediately come to the same conclusion Darr had; she’d know how important her mission now was.

“Black Citadel?” Roan asked.

Erin rubbed her forehead. She’d planned to send Roan to Ascalon to give him something to do; he’d probably be more use in Lion’s Arch. Except what if she didn’t send him, and Yinn proved to have had charr backers after all? She didn’t know how to predict the outcome of that situation. In fact, she didn’t know how to predict anything any more. This whole mess was making her head hurt.

“Go,” she said finally. “But don’t leave the city. I’ll send word if I need you back here.”

Roan nodded, surveyed the burnt husk of the guild hall one last time, then loped off.

Which left Erin with her brother, who was brushing soot off the statue, and Darr.

It was many weeks since she’d seen Darr look so happy. No, ‘happy’ wasn’t quite the word for it. Satisfied, perhaps. This destruction meant they’d angered someone enough to provoke a reaction. It was the first lead they’d had since the end of the game.

“What are you thinking?” she asked him, in a low voice.

Darr tapped his cane against the side of the rescued crate. “That the answer is in here somewhere. In the course of our investigations, we’ve inadvertently discovered something someone doesn’t want us to know.”

Erin raised an eyebrow. “Inadvertently?”

Darr looked smug. “It doesn’t do to boast.”

“What is it, then? Who did this?”

Darr’s gaze turned distant. “I have a full fifteen names of nobles, merchants, and politicians who have demonstrable links to Yinn. Some have previously been seen with him, though never in public. Others appear to have paid for aspects of the game.”

“Fifteen,” Erin said, frustrated. It was both too many and not detailed enough. As a guild, they couldn’t investigate fifteen individuals – and a list like that didn’t tell them who’d been in charge.

“But if you want my opinion,” Darr said slowly, “I believe we should turn our attention to Divinity’s Reach.”

“Oska’s already there,” Erin said. That had been another assignment designed to give one of her guildmates something to do – but perhaps it would come in useful. Oska was young, but he was skilled, and he had connections they might be able to use.

Darr was silent for several moments. “Is he?” he said finally.

Erin opened her mouth, then closed it again. She’d seen what made Darr sound so dubious. A slender figure was weaving its way through the crowd towards the docks. A figure that, even at a distance, had pale grey hair.

By the time Auri reached them, she was panting. Her eyes were wide and she looked startled, as though she’d heard how busy Lion’s Arch was but never believed it to be true. She’d seemed so self-assured during the game, though, as if nothing in the world could surprise her.

It wasn’t difficult to guess what had rattled her now, though. When it came to the twins, it was so rare to see one without the other.

Erin caught Auri’s arm, trying not to get tangled in the staff she carried. “Auri. What are you doing here?”

Auri’s turned her wide eyes up towards Erin’s, looking more like a child than ever. She wasn’t crying, but her face was as pale as a ghost’s. “It’s Oska,” she said, confirming Erin’s suspicions. “He’s gone.”