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Elystra practically threw her satchel as she walked into her room at the pendants. Her shoes were soon to follow one by one, finding themselves discarded in the room. Face first, she collapsed onto the bed. Her overall appearance was ragged, matching how she felt. Luckily, she would have the night to herself, or at least she thought so.
Behind her, a shadowy portal appeared, and through it stepped a figure dressed in dark robes. She buried her hands in her face. “Emet-Selch, I swear I will cause the rejoining myself this time. Don’t you know the meaning of?” She was cut off by the stranger.
“It’s not him,” the voice reassured her. “I know you’re tired. He must keep you busy all day, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.”
Now sitting on the bed, Elystra looked at the newcomer with confusion and said, “Hmm, I don’t recognize you. Who are you?”
“Hythlodaeus, it is my real name. I don’t hold a fancy title like Emet-Selch insists on using,” he laughed to himself.
“Yes, but why are you here to see me? You could just lurk in the shadows like all the rest of them,” she grumbles.
Hythlodaeus responds quietly, just slightly out of earshot, “I miss you, Azem.”
“Huh,” Elystra replies.
“I just… I mean, I wanted to get to know you better,” he attempted to save himself. “I know you have been busy as of late.”
“Yes, just trying to save this world from the flood of light and the rejoining. You know the usual,” she spits out.
Hythlodaeus covers his mouth, letting out a slight laugh. Azem is always one to be sarcastic, even in the face of peril. “Of course. The usual,” he says, moving away from the middle of the room to a chair just left of her.
“Always the busiest of us three,” he whispers under his breath, then his voice speaks to her softly, “I hope you don’t mind me barging in. I’m sure you are tired, and I am only taking up precious moments of your time.”
Silence fills the air as she thinks of how she should respond. She knows she should just nod and be done with it, and yet there is something that holds her back.
Hythlodaeus’ gaze drifts to the floor for a moment, his thoughts clearly occupied. When he does speak, it is with a mix of uncertainty and hopefulness: “May I ask you something?”
“Yes, go ahead,” she reassures him.
“Might I ask you to describe something for me… from your memory?” he stammers.
She nods, and he continues, “When you close your eyes or even dream at night, do you see a city? One that you have never been before but feel a longing for?”
The question catches her off guard, and she looks almost taken aback. Her eyes narrow, struggling to find the words, “Yes. I do dream of such a city.”
Immediately, a single tear plummets down her face, and she brings a hand up to feel it. “H-how do you know about my dreams,” she whispers.
Seeing the tear run down her cheek, Hythlodaeus’ expression turns to one of concern. He reaches out, gently wiping away the tear with the sleeve of his robe. “I don’t mean to upset you,” he says quickly. “It’s just that… I dream of this city too. Emet as well.”
She stares past him. “Then the city starts to burn, and there is nothing I can do.”
He is shocked, but only for a moment, as he quickly whispers, “Just a moment,” before slipping away again into a shadowy portal.
Emet-Selch emerges near the doorway from his own dark portal, sighing as usual, “Who were you talking to?”
Elystra looks startled by the new voice, making up a story on the spot: “G’raha had just brought me some sandwiches and…”
He cut her off, looking towards the spot where Hythlodaeus had once stood. “Had you forgotten Hythlodaeus? I have soul-sight as well.”
Hythlodaeus returned to the room; he had hoped to go unnoticed, but it seemed his best efforts had not escaped his friend’s notice. He gave Emet-Selch a slight smirk and shrugged his shoulders. “Eavesdropping again then?”
He steps forward towards Elystra. “I apologize,” he says, looking at her with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Emet-Selch has a rather annoying habit of keeping tabs on everyone, no matter how much he denies doing so.”
Emet-Selch crosses his arms and gives an exasperated sigh. His annoyance is evident, yet there is a hint of playful banter in his voice. He looks at the two of them disapprovingly, his eyes squinting as he speaks, “As usual, you are both as reckless and careless as ever.”
He turns to Hythlodaeus and says, “The rejoining of this world is so close. Soon we will have the completed Azem back—the real Azem. There is no point in trying to meddle with a fragment of her.”
Emet-Selch then turns towards Elystra, pointing at her. “And you, I gave you a chance to prove yourself. Yet time and time again, you demonstrate that you are nowhere near the Azem I’ve known, loved, and lost.”
Hythlodaeus’ tries to piece his words together carefully to defuse the situation. “Careful, Hades,” he says, his voice calm but with a sharp edge. “You speak as though you have already given up on our friend here. And it seems you are implying that she has failed in some way or can’t possibly measure up to the Azem you knew.”
Emet-Selch grumbles back, “This is not the time to use my true name against me. This fragmented being may share a piece of Azem’s soul, but she does not have her experiences or her memories. Can you not find it within yourself to accept that she is not the Azem of the past?”
“And what would you have us do? Ignore her existence because she does not meet your expectations.” His voice is heated, with a touch of sorrow. “To dismiss her is to dismiss a piece of our dearest friend.”
Hythlodaeus pauses before beginning again, “Did you know she dreams of Amaurot? Of the final days?”
Emet-Selch turns away to obscure his reaction, “How is that possible? It is a memory that should be inaccessible to her.”
“And yet she is well aware of not just the event but the pain behind it,” Hythlodaeus continues.
“Is this true?” Emet-Selch turns to Elystra. “Tell me what you have seen.”
She does her best to recount the city’s shimmering skyscrapers and gardens, as well as the harrowing flames and destruction.”
“The details alone…” Emet stands in shock, probably for the first time ever.
Hythlodaeus interjects, trying to find some logical explanation. “Could it be that she is somehow channeling Azem’s memories? Perhaps through her soul?”
Emet-Selch remains unconvinced. “It seems unlikely. While she does share quite a substantial piece of her soul, she would have no recollection of her life. To have such detailed visions of Amaurot’s destruction seems impossible.”
“Perhaps she is more connected than we originally anticipated,” he offered. “Do you think a trip to your recreation would be helpful?”
Emet-Selch ponders this for a moment, “We could give it a try.”
He stretches out his hand to Elystra, and not long after she takes it, he steps into another shadowy portal.