First Interlude: Hammer and Anvil
Most of the time, Erin thought she was reasonably in control of her guild. Some of its members could be awkward ‒ and plenty of them liked to argue ‒ but overall, they were willing to follow her lead.
There was one member, however, who made Erin doubt her leadership abilities completely.
It hadn’t been immediately clear whether Caolinn would join Light’s Memory after she severed her ties to the Nightmare Court. Amber had made the offer, but that was a long way from properly initiating the sylvari. There were days when Erin still wondered if Caolinn was actually a member of the guild. She didn’t always act like one.
Like today. From Divinity’s Reach, Erin had sent a message to the sylvari and received only a cryptic response. Busy. Come to the docks, dusk tomorrow.
The docks, meaning back in Lion’s Arch. It sounded like Caolinn had been in the city all this time and Erin hadn’t even known it.
She couldn’t help feeling somewhat furtive as she arrived back in Lion’s Arch at dusk. At that time of night, all the city’s unsavoury elements began making a reappearance, giving the place an exciting but also slightly dangerous air. Erin knew there were plenty of far, far more dangerous locations in Tyria, but she wouldn’t have chosen to call any of them home.
At the docks, there was nothing to do but wait. Erin perched on an abandoned crate, trying to look like she was meant to be there. She’d brought a book to read, but now realised that would make her look even more out of place. Instead, she drew out her greatsword and proceeded to sharpen it to a fine edge.
“Whose head are you planning to take off?” The voice came out of nowhere. It was several seconds before Caolinn followed it, materialising out of the shadows.
“That depends.” Erin slid her whetstone back into her pocket. “It’s good to see you.”
Caolinn ignored the platitude. “Depends on what?”
Erin hesitated, then said, “You were watching. The guild hall.”
“From a distance. Half the city was talking about it.”
“And the rest? Were you watching that?”
Caolinn came closer, perching on a nearby crate. “You mean this crusade of yours, against whoever financed Yinn’s game? It’s been rather hard to miss.”
Erin met her gaze. “Then you know we need your help.”
“Are you sure about that?” Caolinn’s sigh was long and weary. “You’re turning over a lot of stones with this business. What do you really think is going to crawl out from under them?”
Erin tapped her still unsheathed greatsword. “Something I can face properly.”
At that, Caolinn looked distinctly unimpressed. “Tell me what’s really going on,” she said finally.
Erin swallowed uncomfortably, but she was here for the sylvari’s help. There was no point keeping secrets. “Have you heard of the Archon?”
Caolinn’s head tilted to one side, birdlike. “He’s got his fingers in this?”
“He’s recruited Marissa’s brother.”
“Willingly?”
Erin shrugged. “Sort of.”
“But you’re trying to get him out.”
“We were, but now it’s not that simple. Turns out the Valparis have a grandmother who lives out in Queensdale. She seems to be assembling people for what they’re calling a war. I would have written the whole thing off as the vanity of a rich old woman…”
“Except you think the Archon’s doing the same thing.”
Erin nodded slowly. “And we’re stuck in the middle.”
“Are you, though?” Caolinn leaned forwards. “It sounds like you’ve got Valparis on both sides, at least physically speaking. Aren’t you going to have to choose which ones to follow?”
“Not if I can help it.” Erin spoke firmly, but her shoulders felt tight. Caolinn had cut straight to the heart of the problem, of course. Light’s Memory would never ally themselves with the Archon, but Erin wasn’t sure they should ally with Taria Valpari, either. Except the alternative was not choosing a side, which meant putting themselves between two opposing forces. That was like being between the hammer and the anvil ‒ a sure way to get flattened.
“You don’t know what they’re fighting over,” Caolinn said suddenly.
Erin shook her head warily. “No.”
“Then it’s probably one of the usual things. Wealth, territory‒”
“Unlikely, knowing Artair,” Erin put in.
“‒or power.” Caolinn raised an eyebrow. “So what do a Valpari matriarch and the Archon both want to control?”
It was a question Erin couldn’t possibly answer. Perhaps Amber and Darr were giving the matter some thought, but she’d rather just hit things until they gave in.
Caolinn sighed, even more wearily than before. “You do need my help, don’t you?”
There was no point prevaricating. “Come back to the guild,” Erin replied. “Help us fight this.”
“Fight a war,” Caolinn said, but she sounded almost amused by the prospect. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what I should be doing with my time.”
“Can you think of anything better?”
Abruptly, Caolinn laughed. It was a surprisingly joyful sound, loud enough to make her shoulders shake. “You have a point. Tell Darr I’ll bring him one of his favourite apple tarts. I’ll bring you all one, if you like.”
Erin got to her feet, sheathing her greatsword. “Is that some kind of code?” she asked dubiously.
Caolinn laughed again. “Only if you want it to be. I was merely talking about pastries. Tomorrow, then.”
There was no more time to ask questions or issue instructions; Erin suspected both would be futile anyway. With a tiny wave, Caolinn slid off the crate and was gone.
