Exhaustion filled Tristian and weight pressed on his shoulders, bending him down as if his mortal shell were that of an old man. The Lantern King's work. Perhaps it was a specialty of the fae: those who accounted the physical as nothing instead sapped the mind and will because only the will had true power. Cold settled over his heart. He had been without Sarenrae's presence for so long, and her return had been a sweet music he had never thought to hear again. And now that melody was distant because of yet another curse.
He smelled Nyrissa before he heard her. She had always seemed to carry the scent of the storm, and that had not changed, but it was different now: nature exhausted after the ravages of thunder and lightning. He stiffened. She had destroyed untold thousands of lives. Jhod. Linzi. And she had been able to do it because he was frightened of his newfound mortality. And now both their curses were broken, but the spectre of death haunted them still. Worse, it haunted those they loved.
"Ah, my spring! What has he done to you?" Her voice had changed as well. Not softer, but gentler and her sadness no longer a carefully crafted mask. "You need to rest."
"The Lantern King won't let me." Munira sounded as if she had had to battle a dragon instead of an owlbear, but she seemed as determined as ever. "We have to defeat him to save Lemair. And that means defeating the Jabberwock."
"You can barely stand." Nyrissa addressed him for the first time since her heart had been healed. "Is there no spell you can cast for her?"
And what is it to you? The thought was a malevolent whisper in his mind. You wanted her death from the moment you met her. You ordered me to kill so many to earn grains for your cup. You only care about life now because something of yours might be taken away. Tristian shook his head. Such thoughts were unworthy of a priest of Sarenrae and the worst kind of hypocrisy. But facts remained what they were. "My connection with Sarenrae is damaged once more. I can cast only the feeblest spells. "
"It doesn't matter," Munira said. "I won't let the Lantern King destroy everything we've accomplished. Not when we're so close. You'll get your faerie kingdom, my love." She put her claw of a hand on Tristian's shoulder. "And you'll return to your goddess in triumph." Her hand slid away. "I can heal with or without magic. Give me an hour to prepare something."
Tristian and Nyrissa stood in silence as Munira tread away. What did you say to someone who had held you in thrall for a thousand years? He must forgive her, whatever the voice in his mind said, because no priest of Sarenrae could turn away the truly repentant, no matter how vile their crimes. But he didn't know what forgiveness would look like. It was simple if not always easy to counsel a condemned man on the night before his execution. The demands of justice would be satisfied and only his fate in the Outer Planes remained to be dealt with. But what mortal force could bring Nyrissa to account? What was even a fair punishment for someone whose soul had been so compromised? It made his head hurt just thinking about it.
Nyrissa spoke first. "My sk-Tristian. I am truly sorry for all I have done to you."
Think. He must think. What would he say if she were just another penitent? "I know. And you must use that remorse to make things right for both the First and mortal worlds."
"But not for you?" He could feel her gaze on him, and the air crackled with lightning. "You saved me, you know. When you destroyed the Oculus of Abaddon. If I had been allowed to find the Briar..."
"Then Munira could never have broken your curse. " A little of the cold within melted away. He had been so certain that death awaited him for the act of defiance, but he had found freedom when he had given his sight to destroy such darkness. "I wish I had found my courage sooner."
"And I wish I could heal you. I wish...oh, it will take a thousand upon a thousand years for me to atone for everything I've done." Her voice cracked. "And the only thing I have to lose is Munira."
Irritation warred with exhaustion. "She isn't some bauble that can be taken from you as payment. Stop wallowing in self-pity." He took a deep breath. "That was unworthy of me. It does no good to dwell on what you can't do or what might be but hasn't happened yet. Focus on the Jabberwock and saving Lemair if you want a penance."
Nyrissa inhaled. "Perhaps the Jabberwock will rend me to pieces. There would be a justice in that, I suppose. In being forced to forget her as I forced so many to forget what they were and serve me." She was silent for a long moment. "I wish you were furious with me. I wish she was. What can I do to satisfy the debt I owe you? You must want something from me."
"I do not wish you ill, Nyrissa." Tristian realized with a little shock that it was true. "Our suffering will not bring the dead back to life. It won't rebuild the thousand kingdoms." And guilt without reconciliation and restoration was useless. From either of them.
"You want a penance? Then let me curse you as I have been cursed. When the Lantern King's power is no more and I return to my own plane, you and Munira will remain on Golarion. Happy, if not always so. You will work to build a kingdom that is the best of every world. You will succeed, though it won't quite equal the one in your dreams. You will be a just and wise consort and watch over Lemair long after Munira is dead. Your guilt will never quite fade, but millennia will pass and you will do so much more good than evil until no one remembers the curses of the Stolen Lands. That is my curse upon you-and my blessing."
"Thank you. I accept the curse." He imagined he saw Nyrissa smile.
More of the cold faded and Sarenrae's flame did not seem quite so distant. So this was how they would break this curse. "I believe I have one more spell in me. Let's find Munira."