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Keimwyda barely had time to realize her bonds had been cut before a large, powerful hand grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. It was Raubahn—his eyes intense, burning with rage and grief and adrenaline. He pulled her behind a pillar, putting it between them and the rest of the fighting.
He spoke as a man who knew he had but an instant to say what he wished to. “I never doubted you. Not for a moment. But there is more to this than I yet understand.” He ducked a quick glance around the pillar and growled a quiet curse at what he saw. He turned back to her, urgent, insistent. “Flee this place. Clear your names. Find the vermin who orchestrated this. Do not stay to fight. GO.”
She barely heard him. Her eyes were riveted, aghast, to the blood pouring from the wound where his arm should be.
Seeing that she was hesitating, he shoved her towards the door. Yda caught her as she staggered. Minfilia locked eyes with her, saying nothing. She just nodded with a terrible solemnity. Y’shtola already had the door open. It was time to go.
Keimwyda still felt as if she was in a daze—but she found her legs, and followed her friends.
As they ran, Thancred met them. Thank the gods. They were getting out of here.
Yda and Papalymo were the first to peel off, urging the others to run ahead while they bought them some time from their pursuers. Keimwyda could not fathom it. She was the Warrior of Light. She was sent into battles, not away from them. It felt so wrong. It was also terrifying. If the people who so often bade her fight were now telling her to flee, she could not but take it with the utmost seriousness.
It did not make it feel any better to leave behind the very Scions who recruited her.
But the other three were urging her on, Minfilia tugging at her arm. It cut through her confusion just enough. She would trust them. She had to. She kept running.
Further they fled, into the depths of the city, seeking to escape its monumental stone walls by going beneath them. The ancient waterways were not well-known, hopefully even to the traitors.
And then the sound of footsteps behind them prompted Thancred and Y’shtola to stop.
“Keep going,” Thancred waved at them, trying to still sound cavalier.
“What do you mean to do?” Minfilia asked, sorrowful disbelief in her voice.
Y’shtola’s face was stone. “Only that which is required to ensure that the dawn’s light survive to brighten the morrow.”
Keimwyda’s head fairly swam to leave yet more people behind, but a single thought snapped into clarity through the fog. Of course. Minfilia. They had to get her out of here. Yes, protect Minfilia. Keimwyda would escort her. She would make her own desperate last stand if she needed to. They could not lose the Antecedent.
Not even a full minute after the two remaining Scions had continued their flight, Minfilia suddenly stumbled to a halt. “Hydaelyn,” she breathed.
“What is it?” Keimwyda asked, skidding as she attempted to stop.
Minfilia’s eyes clouded over, looking not entirely unfamiliar to a vision from the Echo. “She speaks to me.”
Keimwyda’s mind raced. Is She going to save us? She remembered Her words about light in the darkness, and the way She had impossibly preserved Her champion from the Ultima Weapon. Maybe all was not lost after all. Maybe She could do something about all this. Keimwyda felt a tenuous spark of hope.
Minfilia kept listening for another few seconds, before gasping an anguished, “No…”
That small hope collapsed into dread.
The Antecedent gave a pained look, and took half a step backwards in the direction from which they had just come.
Keimwyda’s mind began swimming once more.
“I must remain behind… but you cannot stay with me.”
“No,” she replied, moving towards her. “The others… they are all fighting that you may escape. I can go back. We need you. You are the Antecedent.”
“And you are the Warrior of Light.” Minfilia said firmly, taking another step away, holding up her hand to stop her.
But Keimwyda did not stop. “Which is why I should be staying and fighting! Not you, not anyone else!”
Minfilia shook her head. “Please. You must go on. You are hope—for the Scions and for all the realm.”
“As if you are not?”
“You must escape. It is the only way.”
Keimwyda hardly ever raised her voice, and never at any of the Scions. Not until now. “This isn’t right!” she cried. “It doesn’t make any sense!”
The Hyuran woman looked heartbroken, but did not move. She spoke with a grave, punctuated tone, emphasizing every word. “Keimwyda. I heard Hydaelyn.”
The Warrior of Light could find no reply. She could just stare numbly as the Antecedent turned and ran with purpose straight back towards the danger they were fleeing.
And then she was alone.
Before she could even complete her internal debate about rebelling against Minfilia’s orders, a terrible thunder shook the whole tunnel—a few stones shaking loose from the ceiling nearby, and a devastating crash resounding just around the bend.
She could not even find the voice to scream.
She could not think. She could barely breathe. What could she do? Where should she even go?
You must escape, her panicked mind managed to remember. That’s right. Minfilia told me…
The Warrior of Light turned and started walking, then jogging, then breaking into a dead sprint as fast as her legs could carry her. She was alone. Tears began to brim in her eyes, burning like fire in the foul air of the waterways. She heard nothing but the sickening squelch of muck under her boots, competing in rhythm with the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. Her mind latched onto another voice—Raubahn’s, this time, as if punctuating her footfalls.
Flee this place. Clear your names.
Flee this place. Clear your names.
Flee this place. Clear your names.
Flee this place…
Gods be good.
There were no names left to clear.