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As they left the Cabinet of Curiosity, Ariadne walked a step behind the twins, her eyes downcast. Her steps felt heavy and stumbling, weighed down by newfound knowledge...
A year and more separated her from Minfilia's departure, yet her friend's last farewell still sprung to mind with the clarity of any vision of the Echo. Ariadne had been quiet then, unwilling to speak too much lest she betray herself. Betray that she had felt sorrow just as the rest of them had, but it had been ever so tempered. After all, she had known that what Minfilia was doing was right. One life for a world? What better price could be asked? Had her own life been the coin spent, Ariadne would have been the first to do so.
So she had held her tongue save for the barest words, had done naught to forestall her friend's sacrifice. Had, indeed, felt no small amount of relief even then that the First would be saved.
Meeting Minfilia's eyes near the end, Ariadne had felt the understanding flow between them. The smile Minfilia had given to her, ever gentle, ever kind, was seared into her memory. Bright and clear as the Mothercrystal's light, Minfilia’s contentment with her path had until now given Ariadne comfort…
The twins came to a halt, which meant so did she. Ariadne lifted her eyes from the floor at once, smoothing her expression. Though her trials with Fray and Myste had cautioned her against hiding from her true feelings, she still found it difficult to reveal herself to the twins at this moment. They were yet children, and she reckoned herself the closest thing they had to a guardian. She could never stomach the idea of laying her grief at their feet.
From the slight frown on Alphinaud's face, the narrowing of his eyes, Ariadne suspected he had caught sight of her melancholy. However, he said naught of it. Neither did Alisaie, should she have gotten a glimpse.
For her part, Ariadne kept her composure until their conversation was past. She stood quietly as first the Exarch's people and then her friends hurried off. She would have waited for him to leave as well, but he lingered yet, though she did not know why. Twas no end of difficulty trying to read a face forever in shadow, and in the moment Ariadne had not the patience to try.
Whatever he might have been intending to say, she spoke first. "I have a question for you, Exarch, about something Moren said."
"Oh, what is it? I would be glad to give you whatever answers I may."
Ariadne could not keep the wry smile off her lips nor hide the hint of derision in her voice. "Would you now…"
The Exarch started at her tone, his mouth opening slightly in surprise, and while Ariadne at once regretted the outburst, something small and vicious in her was glad of it.
"He said—" she took a breath, steadying herself so that when she continued she spoke evenly, "He said that these… Minfilias… they don't remember their previous lives?"
"Aye." The Exarch nodded.
"Then, what he said about how they all have been made to fight, even those that didn't wish to… that is true as well?"
The quiet that fell was like that which had always filled the air the moment ere Shiva shattered the ice. Tension in the stillness, waiting to be released—
The Exarch nodded again, more slowly this time. His voice, too, was quieter. "...Regrettably, aye."
Ariadne let out a breath, long and heavy, as if the wind had been knocked out of her by his words alone. "I see. I see, then—"
Her vision began to blur, and she scrubbed hurriedly at her face to try and stop the tears. It did not work. They would not cease. Between her hands and her tears she could scarcely see a thing, and when she felt a gentle touch upon her shoulder she nearly ripped herself away from it.
“Sorry!” she and the Exarch said at the same time.
Ariadne desperately tried to compose herself, but twas a losing battle. While she eventually cleared her vision, the floodgates had opened in earnest. She couldn't help but feel a mess and a fool, but for the first time she found herself grateful for the Exarch’s shrouded face. She didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes as his so-called Warrior of Darkness bawled like a child. Less so if he felt pity instead.
“Forgive me. Tis just—” Ariadne stopped herself, letting loose a breathless laugh as she remembered. “No, there is naught to explain, is there? You already know, my friends would have told you. You know how she came to be here.”
The Exarch did not answer at once. He shifted his weight—uneasy or hesitant, Ariadne couldn't tell—and at length replied, “I am aware, but if you have something you wish to say, please don't hesitate. As I have told you, I owe you a debt too great to measure.”
He talked as if he expected her to lash out, but then, had Thancred not been the first he called?
Ariadne sighed, shaking her head. “If I'm angry, tis not at you.”
She said no more for a time, grappling with her own turmoil. For a moment she desperately wished the other Scions were there. They were, after all, the only ones who could hope to understand—but even they would give her scant succor, she knew. The things that plagued her now were not something she had ever told them of.
But then, she had ever stood apart. In this world and without, perhaps only Ardbert’s shade could have named what ailed her in that moment. But her ghostly stalker was nowhere to be found. Twas just her and the Exarch. Though she might away without another word, keeping the tangled morass in her breast to be unwoven at some other time, she knew well enough what running from her emotions did.
More than that pragmatism, she could not deny her desire to speak. It did not matter if he was a willing ear or not. She did not wish to keep what could be said locked away forever. Twas a pressure that begged for an outlet. Perhaps if she spoke the words they would weigh on her less, become just as the air that breathed them to life.
“I fight for those that I have lost, for those I can yet save. Not for duty or honor, but because I can and because it must be done. I choose it just as she did, and I would have chosen just as she did. But had I known…” The strength left Ariadne’s voice, leaving it only a whisper. “Tis one thing to give a life freely in service, to sacrifice yourself… but putting innocents to the sword as well? To fight not just in this life, but in every one after, and to be denied either understanding or rest? I think it too great a burden for any to bear, and she took it unknowingly.”
Ariadne tears were beginning to dry, though her eyes remained hot. She stared down at her hands before slowly curling them into fists. "She was… she was just a kind soul who wished to help others. She might not have always been right, but she believed in her wish so much that she gave her life for it. And this? This is her lot?
"I know there is no justice other than that which we make for ourselves. I know the world is cruel, but… But never had I thought it might revel in its cruelty until now." Ariadne sighed, the breath catching in her throat, and said no more.
She was not surprised when the Exarch had no ready reply. Indeed, she would not have begrudged him if he had naught to say at all. It was difficult for her to figure what would seem right in the face of such unmitigated bitterness.
Then, he slowly lifted his left hand, reaching towards her with deliberation. Ariadne did naught to forestall him, but he still hesitated a moment longer before finally laying it on her shoulder.
"I am so sorry," he said, his voice so soft and earnest that it turned the simple platitude into something far more. "But if you understand her choice, then I beg that you look forward. She saved this star, and she has preserved it in every life since so that you might one day com—"
A strangled, mirthless laugh tore itself from Ariadne's lips, cutting him off. "Oh, aye. Tis the way of things: others falling so I might—"
The Exarch drew back from her, and she snapped her mouth closed over the tide of vitriol. A tantrum, she was throwing a tantrum. To turn her friend's sacrifice into a vehicle of self-hate? No. No she must stop. She must…
Ariadne closed her eyes and listened to her heart as she had done so many times before. 'I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.' The voice was not her own, this time, but Minfilia's still rang true and hopeful. She could do naught but calm in the face of it. She let out the breath she had been holding, allowing her tension and her fury flow out with it as well.
It was done, and she must accept that. Things were already so dire; she had already so many threats to face. She had to understand the worthlessness in railing against what had already come to pass, and she did.
She did.
Her anger trickled away, but the grief remained, leaden and wearying. Ariadne looked up at the Exarch, fancying for a moment she could meet his gaze within the darkness of his hood. He was standing so perfectly frozen that he might have been completely made of crystal, and she sighed.
"Forgive me, you are right." Reaching out, Ariadne laid a hand on his shoulder in turn, giving it a comforting squeeze. She smiled contritely, but it turned into a frown as he seemed to become even more still under her touch.
She pulled away from him, holding her hand close to her chest. "I'm sorry."
As if the words were a spell, the Exarch came to life once more, shaking his head. "No, no, there's no need to apologize."
Ariadne made a small noise of disbelief, but said, "Either way, you still have the right of it. Though I find this hard to stomach, the alternative is unbearable indeed. Tis something she would have never abided, nor I. Tis…”
She trailed off, turning her head to look up past the flights of stairs that led to the surface. Though she couldn't see it just then, she could yet imagine the night sky that yawned above. None of the stars were familiar to her, but though this land’s constellations were unknown, they were no less breathtaking for it.
Ariadne had only been here a few days, but the everlasting light had begun to exhaust her. The relief she had felt at the return of the night must have been less than an echo’s echo of what those who had lived her their whole lives had felt. Yet, it had still been palpable.
Looking back at the Exarch, she smiled again. “Your home is beautiful, Exarch. Its people will forever be worthy of saving. Please pay no heed to what I said before, I don’t begrudge them it, nor you. I’m just…”
Tears pricked her heavy eyes, but Ariadne blinked them away. “I’m just sad to mourn my friend anew.”
“...As any would be,” the Exarch said after a pause, his words too filled with care to be patronizing.
Ariadne nodded, her smile fading as she turned to look past the stairs to the ceiling that yet concealed the twinkling night. She pondered it for a few moments ere she said, “With how I’ve lingered, the twins are no doubt already halfway through becoming guards. I’m sure they are expecting me, but…”
She sighed and scrubbed at her reddened cheeks. “I wouldn’t have them see me such a mess, and I… I think I would benefit from a few hours of quiet. I promise to return soon, and if they look for me, please let them know the same. Tell them... someone asked for my assistance and I hurried off without another word. They are well used to such things, so I think that shall be enough.”
“Of course, whatever you wish,” the Exarch said immediately before adding with some hesitancy, “Do you need somewhere to go to… collect yourself?”
“No, I shall just return to the Source,” Ariadne said, and though she thought a moment about explaining herself further, she decided against it. Kind as the Exarch was, she was already uncomfortable with what she had revealed. There was no need to ramble further. Had she not already assured him she would return soon enough?
She looked back at him a final time. “As trite as it feels to say, I do mean it from the bottom of my heart: Thank you for listening.”
The Exarch’s only reply was a small smile and a nod. Ariadne waited a moment for him to speak, but when he did not, she bid him farewell. Then she began to climb the stairs, content to leave him to be enigmatic in peace. Her mind quickly turned to where she would go, and she spared no further thought to him.
Thus, it did not even occur to her to look back, and so she did not see how the Exarch’s expression twisted in sorrow. But even if she had, she would have only had a glimpse. He was quick to lower his gaze to the floor, hiding all of his face with cloth and shadow.
Ariadne walked away none the wiser, but G’raha Tia stood there a while more in silence, staring at the quickly fading marks her tears had made upon the stone.