Chapter Text
Just as one can observe ripples forming upon a water’s surface after tossing a stone into a pond, so too could he feel the disturbance in the fabric of the cosmos as a rip tore through the barriers between realms, like the jagged edge of a serrated knife carving through flesh. This cut was far from clean, more akin to an inexperienced butcher hacking through limbs with an axe than the delicate finesse and precision of a surgeon’s incision, but blood will gush from all manner of wounds, no matter how pretty they may be.
But he of all beings knew something far more malevolent than mere blood ever could be poured from this tear in reality.
After all, Rathma was her son.
The only thing he did not know, was who else felt it too.
He could feel Ashe stir, both from where she physically laid against his chest, as well as her slumbering mind flickering to awareness. Golden eyes that burned like cinders opened, and he could feel her confusion just as he could see it on her face.
“You sensed it as well then.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was low, quiet, and controlled. Completely void of emotion, and yet not cold at the same time. It was the voice of a man who had lived countless different lives over countless years, and knew far better than anyone else the value of restraint.
The sorceress didn’t respond at first, though he knew full well that it was not due to a lack of having heard him. Instead, her gaze flickered around their meager campsite, as if in search of what had awoken her.
They were camped under a craggy rock overhanging, nestled securely under one of the many ridges throughout the deserts of northern Kehjistan. More than a curve in the rock formation, but not quite a cave, it was as safe a location as any in the desert crawling with desperate brigands, restless undead, and hungry demons alike, but while most travelers through the desert would tread in fear of any of those three, they were concerned, ever so slightly, only with the first. To mortal men with wicked hearts, a man and woman traveling alone was an enticing target, but the demons and undead knew far better, and avoided their path as best they could. The dangers lurking in the desert could faintly be heard in the distance, but the only sounds permeating their camp came from the crackling embers of the fire. The light of the flames danced upon her hair, though nothing short of holy light cascading from Heaven itself could soften the deep crimson, the color reminiscent of a ruby dripping with blood.
Upon confirming her suspicions that whatever roused her was not in the immediate vicinity, and thus not a threat, she now acknowledged his words.
“Yes.” She confirmed, even as her brow furrowed. “Though I am uncertain of what exactly it is that I sensed.”
Coal black eyes gazed into burning gold before flickering away. He gazed off into the distance, though he was not searching with his eyes, but with different senses far more delicate. For one with his experience, pinpointing the exact location of the disturbance was no more strenuous than lifting a cup of tea to his lips.
“Quell the fire. We must depart with all haste.” He told her without answering the question she did not ask aloud.
The desperate measures he’d once taken to save her life had left them with a bond that no blade could sever, and thus, the surfaces of their thoughts were entirely open to each other. Many would consider such to be an invasion of the utmost sacred privacy, but neither of them were overly bothered by it. Though it did lead to slightly amusing situations such as now, where he could quite clearly hear her confused ‘in the middle of the night?’
Despite that, unsurprisingly, she didn’t hesitate to obey, and with a wave of her hand, the small fire in the middle of their camp shrank down to nothing more than embers as quickly and easily as a blown out candle. For any sorceress of the ancient and esteemed Zann Esu clan, such an act was less than a parlor trick. But of course, Ashe wasn’t just any Zann Esu sorceress, and for her, it was an even more minor display of magic.
With a reluctance he shared, she pulled herself away from his side and came to her feet. Stifling a yawn, she made her way to where their horses were tethered to begin saddling them.
Their respective steeds were as similar to each other as their masters were. His was as black as the Void, and truth be told, she wasn’t entirely certain it was what most would consider a living creature at all. To the untrained eye, it would just be an incredibly creepy horse, but she could tell that it was an assembly of darkness elemental magic coalesced into a solid form simply resembling that of a horse, but in her mind, that did not make it less living. The steed was just as calm and composed as his rider, but whether that was because he imposed his own will onto the creature, or simply its own nature, she couldn’t tell, nor did she ever feel the need to ask.
Hers on the other hand, was a fine creature as well, but composed of flesh and blood rather than magic. The sorrel stallion was a vibrant copper, like the color of the desert sands in the light of the rising sun, though his mane and tail were the buttery color of sunlight. And like most stallions, his favorite thing to do was try to buck off anyone who dared ride him. He was as mean as any demon, but utterly fearless and one of the most loyal creatures she’d ever met. There was no doubt in mind that she could ride him through the gates of Hell, and he would not hesitate to charge straight through a legion at her behest.
The Lord of Terror himself would be hard pressed to make him turn away.
She focused on Sunshine’s tack first, though the darling little menace made his displeasure at being woken and saddled in the middle of the night clear at every turn by biting her every time he could as she adjusted his saddle pad before putting on his armor and saddle. By the time she was finished, she had more than a few developing bruises and was a bit more than mildly irked.
Even with her back to him, she could feel Rathma’s faint amusement.
“It wouldn’t have hurt you to lend me a hand.” She huffed, turning to him now with reins in hand.
“There is little I could’ve done to assist you. Tis the dead who bend to my whims, not the living.” His eyes crinkled ever so vaguely, and the corners of his lips twisted upwards in such a slight manner that anyone else would’ve missed it completely as he approached his own steed.
With a mere wave of his hand, the beast of living darkness was enshrouded in armor and saddle just as black as he was.
Ashe couldn’t help but envy the ease.
With a glance back at her, Rathma caught her eye, and a wry little smirk flashed across his face, and though it was gone in the same amount of time it took for a mortal heart to beat, it had been there all the same.
She simply pouted in turn before sticking one foot into a stirrup and hauling herself onto Sunshine’s back. After taking a second to get settled – and ensuring she was prepared for Sunshine’s inevitable attempt to buck her off for his own amusement – she turned to Rathma.
“So, where are we going exactly?”
“Our destination is Hawezar. To the place of the disturbance.”
Ashe raised a brow. “What do you expect to find there?”
Rathma glanced over at her, and though their eyes met for only a moment, it felt like an eternity before he looked away, and in that moment, she got a much deeper taste of the despair he was trying so desperately to keep from her.
He did not answer her question, but he didn’t need to. From her glimpse into his heart, she knew all she needed to know in that moment.
Whatever it was he thought they’d find, she knew it wasn’t good.
The ride from the northern desert of Kehjistan to the southernmost swamps of Hawezar took weeks. Far longer, Ashe knew, than Rathma wanted to spend on traveling alone. Alas, it did not matter how powerful either of them may be, they were still ultimately mortal, and still required food to eat, and time to sleep, as did Sunshine. By the time they reached Zarbinzet, Ashe knew full well that whatever it was they’d sensed in the swamps would be long gone by now.
But at the same time, she’d realized that finding the cause of the disturbance was not the point in coming. Rather, it was in confirming it had occurred at all.
Though she’d been uncertain as to what it could’ve been when she was first roused from slumber by the disturbance weeks ago, and though she had not directly asked Rathma his suspicions, she knew now what it was Rathma feared had come to pass. He’d told her his prophecy long ago, and she was fully aware of how Inarius’ Cathedral of Light zealots interpreted it. But she cared little for his prophecy herself. It was pointless and vague, like all prophecies.
How much and how little of it might come to pass, she was uncertain. The only line of the prophecy that concerned her was the very first one.
I saw my corpse, and from my mouth crawled Hatred.
Rathma had foreseen his own demise, and though he assured her that he’d taken measures to prevent his death already, it was a thought that never ceased to plague her.
“Ashe.” His voice cut through her thoughts, and she had no doubt that he had indeed heard them.
Her eyes flickered over to him.
“Fear not for me.” He stated simply.
As if it were so easy.
The furrow between his brows softened as he let out a quiet sigh. “I am in no danger, I assure you. It is the whole of Sanctuary and all who live within who deserve our fear.”
She inhaled deeply through her nose, averting her eyes from his. “They’ll drown the world in blood if it means keeping it out of the other’s hands, won’t they?”
“Yes.”
They stood just outside the southern gate of Zarbinzet, and gazed into the city. Most settlements in Hawezar were little more than tiny villages, and though there were one or two larger towns, Zarbinzet, as the capital, was the biggest, though having spent most of her life in Caldeum, to her, it was tiny.
It was filled with many different people from different walks of life though. Natives of Hawezar mingled with Zakarum Crusaders with both hesitation and ease at the exact same time, and to her it was a rather succinct view of the storm approaching Sanctuary.
Insufferable and sanctimonious soldiers of light ready to slaughter and burn any who dared not grovel on their knees properly before them. And those who would otherwise be good and decent people just trying to survive in a world determined to see them dead driven towards terrible means in the desperate attempts to save themselves and those around them. She was nowhere near Rathma’s age, but she’d seen it all before herself.
She had doused the flames of Eriman’s Pyre years ago.
She clenched her jaw at the memory of the Zakarum’s barbarism. She knew Inarius’ little idiots were no better.
“We will not allow that to happen.”
“No, Ashe.” Rathma agreed, his voice quiet but firm. “We will not.”
Without another word, he spurred his steed away from the gates of Zarbinzet and towards the swamps. Ashe did not hesitate to follow him.
There was nothing for them there after all.
There were very few roads within the swamps themselves, and it was not long before their horses no longer clopped along hardened dirt but instead were forced to slog through the muck. It was slow going, but would’ve been even slower on foot, and frankly, Ashe was immensely grateful for Sunshine in this moment because while her sandals were perfectly suited for traversing the dunes of Kehjistan, she had absolutely no desire to feel the squelch of mud between her toes with every step she may have had to take in this swamp if she did not have him.
Though she did not know where exactly they were going as her senses were not as sharp as Rathma’s and thus she couldn’t have even hoped to have pinpointed where they needed to go, it didn’t take as long as she anticipated to reach what was apparently their destination.
From a glance, it was nothing more than a stone room, half crumbled into rubble by time and who knows what else. Only two of the building’s walls were still standing, and the aggressive foliage of the swamp had all but swallowed the entire thing. Were it not for Rathma riding up to and dismounting his steed before the dilapidated structure, she might not have noticed its existence at all.
Of course, she of all people knew that appearances could be deceiving, and if Rathma had decided it prudent to stop here, there must certainly be more to this particular area than met the eye.
She didn’t hesitate to follow his suit in dismounting.
“Don’t tether him. There are demons about.” Rathma told her before stepping through what was left of a doorway.
Ashe nodded. There was no worry about Sunshine wandering off, and though she knew the stubborn bastard wouldn’t hesitate to go toe to toe with a demon if needed, he knew when to fight and when to flee, and if she was not there to fight with him, she’d rather he flee.
She patted Sunshine on the shoulder, whispering for him to behave himself before following Rathma inside.
Again, at a first glance, there was absolutely nothing of note or interest inside the stone walls. And then, she smelled it.
The sickly sweet stench of decay. And the scent was far too strong to come from a single corpse.
And yet there was not a corpse in sight.
So where is the smell coming from?
“Down below.” Rathma murmured, poking and prodding at the undergrowth covering the stone floor with the butt of his staff. Most of the foliage stayed in place, having long since dug its roots deep into the cracks in the stone.
However, she noticed a section of the plant life that seemed off from the rest of what spread through the room. Wilted, and discolored. As soon as she noted it was different, Rathma’s attention was zeroed in on it as well.
“Well spotted. Its recently killed.” He muttered, stooping a bit to examine it, before sweeping the foliage away with his staff.
Ashe wasn’t overly surprised to find a hatch hidden beneath the dead brush.
“Someone tried to cover their tracks, but they didn’t do a very good job of it.” She noted.
“No, they didn’t. Either they were in a hurry, or they didn’t think it would be overly necessary.”
Ashe wasn’t sure which she would find preferable, and neither was Rathma.
Rathma opened the hatch, and made his way down below first. As usual in such a situation, she waited. It was only when his voice brushed her mind that she followed him down into the dark. Though she couldn’t see anything down here, she knew she’d reached the bottom of the ladder when she felt his hands on her waist, steadying her.
“Can you sense them?” His voice, though no louder than a whisper, seemed to echo through whatever chamber they were now in like the booming of war drums.
She nodded, knowing full well that just because she couldn’t see in the inky blackness didn’t mean he couldn’t.
Demons. Lots of them.
Yes. Most certainly riled by my mother’s presence here. Be on guard. There’s no way to know how they might react to us.
Ashe nodded once more. Less intelligent demons usually ran in fear of them, whereas smarter, but perhaps not stronger demons were willing to serve them, if it meant avoiding their ire. Well, some were. Those that belonged to the likes of Baal and Diablo would typically avoid them. Live and let live. Those who answered to the power of Hatred would bend the knee… If only to suss out an opportunity to stab them in the back.
Not that either of them ever took a demon up on an offer of servitude. They did not need servants of the Hells, nor did they want them. She knew as well as he did that the only trustworthy demon was a dead one.
His hands left her sides, and she heard rather than saw him turn forward to lead the way into the abyss. Conjuring a small flaming familiar to light her way, she stayed close to his back. She was careful to keep her familiar firmly behind him, as she knew he didn’t need its light as she did, and even still, the darkness was so hungry and pervasive that her familiar’s light was almost immediately swallowed up by its ravenous jaws. It could do little more than reveal the ground at her feet, but that was about all she needed it to do.
After all, nothing would get past Rathma.
The cavern seemed to stretch into eternity, but as they traversed the near impenetrable darkness together, Rathma didn’t share her unease in the slightest. She knew he spent lifetimes alone in dark, but even after the years she’d spent in his company, she vastly preferred the ever lit halls and libraries of the Yshari Sanctum. She was by no means a child afraid of the dark, not when she knew the light could be just as deadly and unforgiving, but that did not mean she didn’t choose each step she took in these halls with the utmost care.
And she did not stray more than two steps from Rathma.
In fact, she nearly ran right into him when he stopped without warning.
What is it? She asked with her mind rather than her lips, having disliked how sound traveled so extensively throughout the cavern.
There’s a bridge ahead, with chasms on either side. Rathma noted.
She made an attempt to glance over his shoulder to see what he did, though it was as futile as she assumed it would be. She couldn’t pick anything out of the darkness before them.
Without warning, though it was not as if one was needed, he turned, and laced his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. The light of her familiar danced across his face, highlighting shadows the likes of which most only ever saw in dreams.
Hold onto me, and do not let go.
Whether the thought came from him or from her, neither could be sure, but nor did either care. They shared the sentiment.
She ran her hand along his back before carefully taking a fistful of his robes, and once he seemed satisfied with her grip, he lead the way forward once more.
It didn’t take long to reach the bridge, and she knew when they had because she’d funneled more mana into her familiar, strengthening its light. It still could not illuminate more than half a dozen feet before them, but at the very least, it meant they were in no danger of unknowingly stepping off a ledge to plummet to an untimely death at the bottom of a void.
Rathma did not hesitate to begin crossing it, and thus neither did she.
The bridge seemed to go on forever and the longer it took to reach the other side, the greater the budding apprehension in the pit of her stomach grew. Though between the sheer length of the bridge, the way their footsteps, which would ordinarily be silent to all but the sharpest of ears, resounded through the cavern like a hammer banging an anvil, or the suspicious lack of appearance of the horde of demons she knew were watching the two of them, she couldn’t quite decide on the source of her anxiety.
The hand at her waist gave her a reassuring squeeze, and his mind brushed against hers in a gentle caress, as soothing as a cool breeze blowing through her hair on a hot day. As easily as breathing, he washed her paltry fears away as if they’d never existed at all.
When they had reached the other side of the bridge however, they encountered a new cause for concern.
“The way forward has been blocked, it seems.” Rathma noted under his breath as he eyed the stone gateway.
“We can go no further, then?” Ashe frowned as she scrutinized that which barred their way. She didn’t sense any warding runes etched into the gateway. Best she could tell, there was no magic barring their way. Only stone.
Sensing her thoughts, a crooked grin coiled at Rathma’s lips. “I would not be so quick to say so. It is merely a door, and what is a door to you? I shall leave it in your capable hands.” He whispered against her ear before pulling away from her with no small amount of reluctance. Both to give her adequate space to work, as well as to fend off any of the fiends watching them that might take offense to what Ashe was about to do.
Ashe nodded, cracked her knuckles, and concentrated on the power slumbering within her. It had taken her decades of studying and suffering to learn how to control her power, even under the tutelage of the Zann Esu, but now that she had, a mere stone door might as well have been paper before her.
Holding her wand before her, she inhaled deep, and as she exhaled, a burst of flame shot forward from the weapon. The heat alone could’ve reduced a human body to ash before the fire even reached it, but it was the sheer force of the magic striking the door rather than the heat of the flames that reduced the barrier to rubble.
Although, to be fair, the heat probably helped too.
A cacophony of unearthly wailing pierced the thick, stagnant air of the cavern as the stone gateway crumbled before her, and Ashe had no trouble recognizing the sound as that of the screaming of damned souls. Her very first memories were that of agonized screaming. She would never be able to forget what they sounded like.
And yet, even as the horrifically misshapen creatures that she presumed were human once crawled up onto the platform upon which they stood, there existed not a single flicker of fear in her heart.
With a gesture and only the slightest hint of the true power she knew he possessed, Rathma sent the ghouls plummeting back into the abyss they had only just crawled out of moments before. He freed the tormented souls from their wretched flesh prisons as easily as she lit candles.
There was no need for her to lift a single finger.
After the first wave of ghouls came, they were followed by two more, but Rathma dispatched them just as easily as he had the first. It was only once he seemed certain the tide had stemmed for now did he lower his staff and return to her side, not hesitating to pull her close once more.
Again, she let him lead the way forward, stepping over the smoking remnants of the door to face whatever dangers laid in wait in the next chamber.
And yet, though she couldn’t sense any creatures inside this new chamber, the scent of decay was far thicker and more repugnant here than outside. But more than the overwhelming stench of rot, there was something else she could smell and taste on her tongue. Hatred. As bitter and thick as if her mouth had been filled with tar. The essence of hatred was so pervasive here that she knew full well most humans would be powerless to fight off its influence.
“A little more light, Ashe?”
Ashe swallowed, something that didn’t exactly come easy with how dry her mouth suddenly was, but nodded, and with a thought, nurtured her familiar with an out pouring of mana.
The little will’o’wyke happily gorged itself of the magical energy, swelling in size and power. The light it radiated surged in strength, enough to make them both wince, though she had no doubt it was far worse for Rathma, whose eyes were far more sensitive than hers.
With a gentle mental prodding, she encouraged the wyke to go further and higher into the chamber, and as it did so, the details of the chamber were thus revealed to them both.
To say the chamber was spartan in design would be an understatement, as there were no features in the room save for three stone pillars triangulating in the center of the room. But at the foot of each pillar laid a corpse. From the entryway, Ashe could pick out few details regarding the conditions of the bodies, and how they might’ve died, but what she could see was enough for her.
Besides, the pool of crimson covering the stone floor in the middle of the pillars was of far greater interest. To both her and Rathma.
Rathma approached the pool, and she did not leave his side.
Kneeling down, he sighed as he dipped his fingers into the pool, and picked up a handful of the crimson.
“Though I knew it to be true… I had vainly hoped that for once, I was mistaken.” He murmured, his eyes downcast onto that which he held in his hands.
Wordlessly, Ashe ran her hand along the back of his shoulders before trailing her fingers up the back of his neck.
“Rathma…” She began, only for the words to die on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to tell him that it would be fine. They could deal with it, and then they’d go back to living their lives as they pleased, just as they were before. But no matter how much she wanted to reassure him that everything would be perfectly fine, she couldn’t. She knew as well as he did that Lilith’s return would mean cataclysmic change for Sanctuary and all of humanity, and neither one of them could truly predict what form that change would take.
And neither of them cared for empty platitudes.
“You are not alone anymore.” She whispered instead. “What comes will come, and no matter what happens, we will face it together.”
Rathma let out a deep breath, and nodded slowly. “Do you have any crystal vials on you?”
Ashe blinked slowly at the unexpected question, but rather than give voice to her confusion, she merely reached into one of the pouches at her belt and produced one. “Is this big enough?”
“Yes, that will work.” With practiced fingers, Rathma uncorked the bottle and filled it with whatever it was exactly that was in the middle of the room.
Ashe didn’t know what it was exactly, but she didn’t feel the need to ask. She could sense the power in it, and she knew he wouldn’t bother with taking any of it with them without good reason.
Rathma rose to his feet, and as he faced her, there was none of the silent despair he wore previously.
“It’s time we left this place. There is nothing here but failure and death.”
Seeing no reason to disagree, Ashe once again wrapped her arm around his back, and followed him out.
While it seemed to take an eternity to delve into the ruin, leaving it passed much more swiftly. It didn’t seem to take them more than twenty minutes, and they were once again standing in the humid swamp of Hawezar. In fact, once they were outside the ruin, it seemed as if barely any time had passed at all while they were inside.
“Mortals’ perception of time is easily distorted in areas where the boundaries between realms has been weakened.” Rathma explained simply without her needing to voice the confusion out loud. “You’re unused to liminal spaces, so it affected you far more than I. We were only down there for an hour.”
Ashe hummed noncommittally at his words, but nodded her understanding. She ran her hand through her short shaggy hair with a sigh, finding herself irked with how the humidity made it stick to the back of her neck.
“So, I suppose the question is: now what?” She muttered, though she knew she was in no danger of him not having heard her.
Lilith walked Sanctuary once again, and obviously they would need to find her and stop whatever it was she might have planned before she could wreak untold havoc, but that didn’t mean she actually knew how to do that. She was by no means a simpleton, but coming up with clever schemes that could account for a dozen different scenarios really wasn’t her forte. She was much better at solving her problems by setting them on fire repeatedly.
Rathma chuckled softly. “Ah but you see the crux of the best laid plans is simply figuring out what is causing the most of your problems and disposing of it, so fear not, your tried and true method will likely be needed far sooner than you think.”
She couldn’t help the grin that broke out across her face. “You always know exactly what I need to hear.”
Rathma returned her smile with a small one, but it was still more than most ever saw from him.
Alas, his smile quickly faded.
“Though in all seriousness, we have precious little time to act. As far as I can tell, all of the seven Evils are still recovering from having been slain and sealed in the Black Soulstone. Thus, Hell has no leader. Traitor she may be, many of the legions would not hesitate to bend to Lilith’s whims.”
Ashe had no doubts that he was correct. The Evils were the leaders of Hell, and they all had their own personal pet favorite underlings, but as the progeny of one of the Primes, Hell would rally behind Lilith like they would no other demon save for the Evils themselves.
“And there’s the question of what mortals are aiding her. Someone led those human sacrifices there to die. She couldn’t have simply summoned herself, could she?”
Rathma shook his head. “No, she couldn’t have.” Heaving a sigh, he approached their steeds, who seemed no worse for wear from their absence. “As much as it behooves me to admit this, it would be wise to gather what allies that we can.”
Despite herself, Ashe raised a brow.
Sensing the query, Rathma explained.
“We don’t know who might be helping Lilith, or how many allies she might have, and her allies may wreak just as much havoc as my mother herself. And considering we can only be in a single place at a time ourselves…”
Ashe nodded. “I see your point. Your priests then?”
“For a start, yes. I don’t suppose your mages of the Yshari Sanctum would…?”
She huffed a sigh, immediately shaking her head. “They’re far too busy bickering like children. Always arguing who has the prettier sand castle on the beach. They will not pay a single thought to the approaching tide until they are drowning under its waves.”
That may not have been her only reason for leaving her clan and Caldeum behind, but it was certainly one of them.
“They have no sight of what is actually important.”
Rathma shook his head. “Unfortunate. Then, in that case, there is something I need you to do.”
Ashe immediately furrowed her brow in confusion. “Ask and it is yours.”
“I need you to go to Kyovashad and try find out what the Cathedral of Light knows about my mother’s return.”
Though he spoke in his usual quiet monotone, she could sense his utter displeasure at making such a request.
Likewise, she was less than enthused with what he was asking her to do.
“You are asking me… To leave you… In favor of spying on your father’s overzealous little idiots?”
“Certainly not because I want you to, but yes. I do believe it is prudent to at least make an attempt of figuring out what they’ve already learned.” Rathma sighed deeply. “I have not, and never will forget what the Cathedral did, and they will never be our allies.” He assured her firmly. “My father’s forces are just as much of a threat to us, if not more so than my mother. He’s already proven that. But you know what they say about keeping your enemies close, yes?”
Ashe closed her eyes and nodded. She knew he didn’t like the idea anymore than she did, but she really couldn’t argue with his logic.
“Ashe.”
As always, the way her name sounded leaving his lips caught her attention, and she looked at him again.
“Be careful. This is one of the last places in Sanctuary I would ever want to send you.” His dark eyes softened. “Just try to keep your eyes open, your head down, and you should be fine.”
She sighed silently. “As long as Inarius isn’t there.”
Rathma’s jaw visibly clenched at the words. “If you encounter my father, Trag’oul will bring you to safety immediately.”
Ashe blinked in surprise. Though she was well aware of the dragonic guardian of Sanctuary, having heard much about him from Rathma, she’d never met or spoken to him herself. Though according to Rathma, such wasn’t a slight against her, as Trag’oul had not revealed himself to any mortals since the Sin Wars, and thus she did not take offense to it.
That Sanctuary’s eternal guardian would reach out to save her specifically… Well, it reassured her a bit about leaving his side to go slumming around with the Cathedral of Light for a bit.
“Very well.” She agreed, even as she heaved a heavy sigh. Just because she was willing to do it didn’t mean she suddenly had to be happy about it. In fact, she had every intention to sulk constantly and incessantly about the situation until they were reunited.
Rathma chuckled softly as he mounted his steed. “Which is exactly why I have every intention in joining you there as soon as I’ve rallied my followers.”
Ashe followed his lead and clambered into Sunshine’s saddle, and didn’t hesitate to shoot him a pout. “Isn’t it exceptionally cold in Kyovashad? How do you know I won’t freeze to death before you’ve returned to me?”
The snort that slipped out of Rathma was nothing short of utterly undignified. “Oh please, we both damn well know the only way you could freeze to death was if you allowed yourself to.”
“You know, you could at least pretend to have some sympathy for me. You get to spend time with your followers who worship the ground you walk on, and I have to go deal with a bunch of morons who would shove their spears up their own asses if they were told to.”
Rathma clenched his eyes shut and hung his head. His ebony hair fell into his face, shading it from view, but nothing could hide how his body shook from his silent laughter.
Despite her sullen mood, his amusement was infectious, and she found a smile creeping across her own face as well.
After a few more moments of silent laughter, Rathma straightened up in his saddle and cleared his throat. “I miss you already.”
Ashe’s smile faded. “Then I suppose we should both hurry, no? The longer we delay our departure, the longer we delay our reunion.”
Rathma nodded, shutting his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he directed his steed towards the west.
Rather than bearing the weight of watching him leave her, Ashe averted her eyes from his departing back, and ushered Sunshine north.
As they took their leave of each other, neither spoke a word. There was no need to. Those who understood each other needed no words in such a situation.
They both already knew they would be reunited. No force in Sanctuary, whether fallen from Heaven or risen from Hell could prevent it.
And all of creation would pity the fool that tried.