Epilogue: Light’s Memory

Erin learnt of Spark’s death a week after the battle in the sky. It was a week that had been both frantically busy and weighted with heavy, silent moments. Each day, she’d overseen new improvements being made to the guild hall or injured Priory members being transported back to the Shiverpeaks ‒ and she also read through the list of the dead, committing each name to memory.

She’d almost expected to find Spark’s name among them. The charr hadn’t been present during the battle, but Erin wasn’t surprised when a messenger bird swooped through the window of her office, carrying a note from Weir.

Congratulations on your victory, guild leader, it began. Tyria can sleep easier with Artair behind bars. I hope the Valpari girl is safe.

Weir went on to suggest aid he could offer from the Black Citadel, including salvaging the downed airships that had dropped into the sea and sending engineers to reinforce the Priory cell that was holding Artair.

And then, at the very bottom, as though in an afterthought, he’d added, Artair paid a visit to Ascalon before he ran into you. I found Spark’s body out east. Have attached details of the planned burial below.

Erin put the note down. The location Weir had provided was instantly familiar, but also surprising. That Weir had even known of its existence, let alone chosen it as the place to bury Spark… But Erin had long suspected the two charr had carried more guilt over their past affairs than they’d ever let on. Perhaps it was time to let things come full circle.

She left the city with only three guild members in tow: Amber and Caolinn, who’d been as close to Spark as it was possible for anyone in Light’s Memory to be… And Oska.

“She was alive when I left her,” the thief said, a hint of guilt in his voice.

“I know,” Erin replied. “This was Artair’s doing, not yours.”

It was only as they stepped out of the asura gate onto the streets of Divinity’s Reach that Erin slowed. Oska looked confused, Caolinn thoughtful, and Amber had both eyebrows raised.

“Really?” she said doubtfully. “This is where Weir chose?”

“I think they always knew,” Erin said. “Even though they weren’t with us, they always knew where we’d buried Blaise.”

The hillside to the south-east of the city looked almost exactly as Erin remembered it. There was the rolling green slope, there was the stand of saplings ‒ now a few years older ‒ and there was the river glinting in the distance. Divinity’s Reach was out of sight and the wind was blowing in the wrong direction to carry its smoke and music across the fields. It felt like there wasn’t a single other soul alive in all the world.

Except a lone charr, his armour gleaming in the sunlight, where he stood at the foot of the hill.

He didn’t move until they’d got closer, when he unsheathed his sword and held it up in salute. It was hard to read sorrow in Weir’s face. Erin thought he looked weary and almost resigned, as though this was the end he’d always expected.

Erin clasped his arm. “Weir. It’s good to see you. Do… do you know what happened?”

Weir met her gaze steadily without looking Oska’s way. “Spark was injured. She’d taken a serious dagger wound and lost a lot of blood. She might have survived it, though, if it wasn’t for Artair.

“A hunter saw the two of them, from a distance. Said Spark was kneeling, perhaps injured, and that Artair shot her with what looked like a rifle. Except the hunter thought he might have been mistaken, because Spark was still breathing when he got to her. She just… didn’t seem to know he was there.”

“Souleater,” Amber said heavily, the word filled with regret.

“The hunter carried her back to the Citadel,” Weir said, his voice expressionless. “She died on the way. But yes, Souleater. I won’t say she got what she deserved, but… She always knew she was playing with fire.”

They were silent for a moment, listening only to the wind in the trees and the grass. Caolinn had chosen this spot, Erin recalled. She’d said it was peaceful and that was what Blaise would have wanted. Perhaps Spark would have wanted that, too.

“I’ve already buried her,” Weir said, as they began a slow climb up the hill. “But I thought you’d want to be here for the memorial.”

“How did you know?” Amber asked, from Erin’s other side. “Where to find Blaise, I mean.”

“I told them,” Caolinn put in. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

“Maybe so,” Amber said, “but I thought you didn’t care.”

Weir winced. “I cared. We both did. What happened to Blaise… Spark didn’t talk about it often, but she regretted it more than she could say.”

That was what this had all been about, Erin thought. Spark had made weapons that caused untold harm ‒ and then, in kidnapping Auri, she’d tried to make amends. There was a horrible kind of logic in that, though it was one only Spark had appreciated.

They came, finally, to the graves. Nothing but a patch of disturbed ground marked where Spark lay, but Blaise’s cairn was a mossy hump with its carving still intact.

Before Erin could speak, Oska moved past her and knelt in the grass beside the cairn. “Blaise. Whisper. Deathwish,” he read, then looked up at Erin. “Who were they?”

Erin swallowed. “Good friends,” she managed. For a moment, all the grief and horror of the preceding week threatened to overwhelm her. Seventeen deaths, countless injuries, and now Spark… Just more pain and sorrow to add to the list that had started with one ranger and his beloved pet.

But Amber’s hand closed round Erin’s wrist and her voice broke the stillness. “Light’s Memory was formed in their honour,” she said, her voice steady. “It’s who we named ourselves after. Because Blaise made the ultimate sacrifice to keep the world safe… And we’ve tried to live up to that every day since.”

“Blaise and Spark,” Oska said softly, placing a hand on the cairn. He didn’t know that one had been responsible for the death of the other, but it seemed he sensed the ties that bound them all the same. “A blaze and a spark,” he added, “together in rest. Light’s Memory can remember them both.”


The sun always seemed to shine in Lion’s Arch. It wasn’t the place Amber would have chosen to call home, but it had been a prudent site for their guild hall and it had its advantages.

Like being a long way from where all three of their greatest enemies were being held.

Artair, Yinn, and before them both, Zurra. Amber had never meant to drag herself into so many battles. The day of Flikk’s death felt like a very, very long time ago. So long ago, in fact, that there were days when Amber wondered what she was still fighting for. Not for Tyria, not any more; saving the world was too grand a purpose. But Light’s Memory, this guild hall, and everything they’d created in it? That was worth protecting.

She heard Erin coming. Her footsteps were heavy and she never went anywhere in a rush. Not a useful trait in a thief, of course, but one Amber could respect in a guild leader.

Erin stopped a few paces away, joining Amber in looking out over the bay. “Oska and Auri are on their way to Divinity’s Reach. They’ve taken Ruby with them.”

Amber glanced over. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Erin rubbed thoughtfully at her chin. “Oska will see the city differently, knowing who’s buried outside it. He’s not the same boy he was when all this started.”

“None of us are the same,” Amber replied. “That’s probably a good thing.”

Erin was silent for a moment. “Do you know,” she said slowly, “if I ever stand down as guild leader, I think it’ll be Oska who takes my place.”

“Really? He doesn’t seem the type.”

“The young never do. But he’ll grow up and he’ll remember what he’s learnt here. One day, he’ll make a worthy leader.”

Amber stretched her arms above her head. “Well, if that day ever comes, I hope to be long retired.”

“Retired? You?” Erin looked amused. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Oh, you’ll see it eventually. I’ll go back to Rata Sum and find myself a role lecturing the most wayward progeny. The College of Synergetics, maybe. They might take me.”

Erin laughed. “You wouldn’t last two days back in Rata Sum. Besides, I’m sure we’ll have all the wayward progeny you could ask for right here in the guild.”

Amber turned to study Erin’s face. Deeper lines now marked the norn’s mouth and the gap between her eyebrows. Both of them were older and wearier ‒ and perhaps even wiser ‒ than they’d once been, but they weren’t yet old.

“You’re really going to bring more new blood into the guild?” she asked.

Erin nodded slowly. “When the time is right, yes.”

“Well, I suppose there’ll always be someone out there foolish enough to join. I think they ought to pass some sort of test before we induct them into the guild, though.” She turned back towards the guild hall and Erin fell into step beside her.

“Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“Something like heading down to the Crow’s Nest and buying us both a drink.”

Erin’s laugh was loud enough to echo off the guild hall and the surrounding streets. “You know something, Amber? In all the years we’ve known one another, I don’t think you’ve ever bought me one.”

“Well, then.” A smile spread across Amber’s face as she pulled a coin from her pocket, flipping it into the air with one hand and neatly catching it again. “Let’s start there.”

Next
Next

Epilogue: Family