21: Love Requited

They headed for the tomb the next day with Laranthir, a Norn Bear shaman named Grechen, and a rearguard of about a dozen, leaving the rest of the army to fortify their new camps. Trahearne was confident enough when they set out, but he grew more and more distant as they came to the entrance that Caoilfhionn vaguely remembered from his visit to the Dream.

"This is Azabe Qabar," Trahearne said at the low arch that marked the entrance to the complex. "Grechen, you and Laranthir must hold the entrance. Zhaitan's forces will be relentless. Our survival is in your hands."

The Norn saluted. "I understand, Marshal Trahearne, and I won't fail you. You'll have the time you need."

Trahearne nodded to her and walked firmly into the shadows. Inside, Annhilda went in front, then Phiadi and her minions… Trahearne was falling behind and Caoilfhionn touched his elbow before he slowed to a stop entirely. Trahearne startled and looked up. "Forgive me if I seem distracted, but this is the culmination of my Wyld Hunt. I'm about to answer my life's calling. It's both exhilarating and terrifying."

"It must be," Caoilfhionn said, unable to restrain a hopeful smile. "But let's keep moving, together."

"Right. Yes. My apologies."

They came to the great chamber where the kings were buried, to the back where there was a large space, and Trahearne stopped. "This is the place," he said, his voice very deep and ominous – with apprehension, Caoilfhionn realized. "We'll perform the ritual here. The moment we begin, Zhaitan will know. Be ready for anything."

"We're ready," Annhilda said softly, and Hope's Legacy took up positions surrounding Trahearne, facing outwards, as he planted Caladbolg in the ground before him and began to make gestures, his eyes half-closed in concentration. Caoilfhionn could not watch, but he could feel the magic swirling around him, heard a sound like rushing wind, heard Trahearne make a sharp gesture and hold it, pulling the magic to the ritual with an ever-increasing intensity.

Undead burst from the ground and everything erupted in chaos. Caoilfhionn lashed out with lightning; the only thing that mattered was keeping them away from Trahearne. Not simply because if he was interrupted, he would have to start over, but also with this much magic in one place, if he lost control of it, they would probably all turn into shreds, making starting over moot.

Then Laranthir came dashing in, with about half the rearguard behind him. "Marshal! The rearguard is overwhelmed! Grechen has fallen. You must leave, now!"

"We can't!" Caoilfhionn called back. "We can't interrupt him! We have no choice."

There was a growl from behind Laranthir, and he turned to see: "Grechen! No, not Grechen… only her tortured remains. We must put her to rest."

Annhilda's sword flashed. "Spirits grant you peace, Grechen. Thank you for your service."

As the last undead collapsed to the floor, the swirl of magic in the centre of the chamber reached its height, and Trahearne finally made the symbol that would unleash it. About Caladbolg, vines erupted from the ground, flowers burst out with a scent not smelled on Orr for centuries – but as quick as they grew, they withered, turning black and collapsing onto the dry ground.

Trahearne's face was anguished as he knelt beside the pitiful outcome of all his effort. "No! We were so close! By the Pale Tree… it's impossible." His shoulders sagged and he reached out to take back Caladbolg, then stood and looked down at Grechen's rotting body. "All this… all these lives, wasted. All for nothing."

Caoilfhionn reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes pleading with him. "Trahearne, didn't you see? The cleansing did work! For a moment, the spirit of the land rose up like a breath of wind."

"We all felt it," Annhilda said. "It was as if Orr's own soul was fighting to be free. The ritual was a success."

Trahearne shook his head. "But the absolution didn't hold. Though sacred, the Royal Tombs weren't strong enough. This isn't the heart of Orr. I wonder if such a 'heart' still exists."

They were all silent for a moment; Caoilfhionn was thinking. "Wait, Trahearne – remember the Dream the Pale Tree showed us? An Orrian king spoke of 'the Source'. Maybe that's what we're looking for."

Trahearne brightened. "You're right. The Source of Orr… Yes! I couldn't remember before, but now I think I remember hearing about such a thing. A priestess of Grenth, and a shaman of the Norn spoke of it. The ancient priests of Grenth were said to be the keepers of Orr's deepest secrets. We'd find them in Orr's Cathedral of Silence. It's a terrifying place, half-shrouded in the Mists."

"And what did the shaman say?" Annhilda asked.

"An ancient Norn explorer, Romke-"

Annhilda thumped her fist into her opposite palm. "Yes."

Trahearne gave her an incredulous smile. "Er- I didn't even finish…"

Annhilda shook her head. "Doesn't matter. Romke's my ancestor. I know what you're talking about, and I'm going after it. The rest of you can go investigate the temple."

"What is it, though?" Damara asked. "Maybe the rest of us would like to come too. I'm not keen on haunted crypts, myself."

"Me either," Rhyoll said. "Got enough of those at home."

"You two are no fun," Phiadi said. "But it looks like I'm already outvoted."

"Supposedly Romke was trapped in Orr when Zhaitan rose beneath his ship," Trahearne said. "Legend says his map was blessed by all four Spirits of the Wild, and can show the route to any destination."

"This is personal," Annhilda said. "That map is mine."

"If it's still here," Phiadi said. "The tidal flat is no place to archive a hundred year old document."

"We'll be able to ask Romke himself. His ghost form is still trapped in Orr, near the Mausollus Sea, bound to the land that ended his journey and his life."

"By Raven!" Annhilda said. "I am going. Now. Alone. The rest of Hope's Legacy will investigate the temple. That is an order."

"Annhilda!" Caoilfhionn cried, chasing after her as she began to stride quickly out of the tombs. "Romke may be your ancestor, but this is Trahearne's Wyld Hunt, and the quest of everyone in the Pact."

She slowly turned and met his gaze with an icy stare. "You don't understand," she began.

Caoilfhionn took her hand with a sweet smile. "We're here for you. We want to help you. That's why we formed a guild, isn't it?"

"…Yes, I suppose it is," she said, softened, and waited – though impatiently, he could tell.

"It's not yet noon," Laranthir said. "We may yet have time if we move swiftly. Shall I prepare another escort?"

"Yes," Trahearne said. "An aerial one, please. But you and these soldiers must return to camp and rest."

Laranthir grimaced a little but did not object. "I'll get it done immediately, Marshal."

They headed back the way they had come. "We were close!" Caoilfhionn said to Trahearne.

"Closer than ever before," Trahearne agreed. "We – I cannot give up hope. My Wyld Hunt is not in vain. I've seen that now with my own eyes. You have my gratitude for all that you've done. All of you," he said, raising his voice a little.

The others gave him smiles of their own. "No problem!" Damara said for all of them. "We're glad to help! It's going to be awesome."

Annhilda stood on the beach, her hands on her hips, and regarded her ancestor. "Well."

"We're free!" Romke said, spreading his arms wide with a warm smile. "The curse is lifting, thanks to you."

"So it's into the Mists for you next, eh?" Annhilda said. "May the Spirits watch over you there."

"And may they watch over you in this life," Romke said. "I know you'll put the map to good use. Just try to be more careful with it than you were with my horn!" He winked.

Annhilda shuffled and… blushed? "I got it back, though! …And then it got broken… but it's the inspiration, the legacy that counts, right?"

"I know, I know. Hey, when you destroy Zhaitan, spit in the rotten worm's face for us."

Annhilda grinned. "Will do, Captain. Thanks for all your help, and enjoy your final reward."

"We will. Farewell!" Romke had been losing definition as they spoke, and now he dissolved entirely into the wind, blown away on a rising evening breeze.

Night had long fallen on the Pact camp as Caoilfhionn left its walls and headed for the docks. He should have been sleeping, but he couldn't. There was something far more important on his mind, something that made his stomach flip-flop inside of him – but he pressed on anyway. He climbed on board one of the smaller vessels, one with no crew abovedecks, and headed aft.

Trahearne was there, leaning on the railing, staring out at the water, where the full moon left a rippling white road west to the horizon. Even the oily atmosphere couldn't completely quench its beauty. He looked up as Caoilfhionn climbed the narrow stairs towards him. "Good evening, Caoilfhionn. Couldn't sleep?"

"No," Caoilfhionn said, with a rather foolish grin. "You either?"

"Mm."

Caoilfhionn took a place beside him, also leaning on the railing, looking at the sea too. He didn't know what to say now that he was here.

"Tomorrow will be more difficult," Trahearne said at last. "Zhaitan knows what I'm up to now."

"I won't leave your side," Caoilfhionn assured him.

"You never have," Trahearne said. "Thank you. It… means a lot to me." He clenched one hand on the railing and frowned, inhaled to say more, and thought better of it.

Caoilfhionn noticed, but his mind was too full to ask for more. So he simply stood stupidly, watching the water. They stood in silence together for what seemed an eternity.

Trahearne glanced at him. "You… seem to have something you want to say?"

"Yes, actually," Caoilfhionn said, taking a deep breath and turning to face him full on.

And was caught in admiration – of that sharp profile, those narrow yellow eyes, those full dark leaves with lovely luminescence flowing through them, stunning in the weak moonlight. Trahearne was strong, and cunning, and noble, and brave, and melancholy, and beautiful, and he adored him with all his body and soul-

"What is it?" Trahearne asked, looking at him in perplexity and raising a hand to brush at his own face. "Is there something on my face…?"

"I love you," Caoilfhionn gasped out with a little sigh.

Trahearne froze – Caoilfhionn froze – and then panicked. He had meant to confess but not like this-! "Ah, i-it's – if you don't reciprocate, it's fine, I only wanted to tell you-" He turned to run-

-and was stopped by a lean hand closing quickly around his wrist. "Wait!" Trahearne said, so soft and gentle. "Caoilfhionn… I… Why me?"

Caoilfhionn turned back to face him with a helplessly adoring smile, noticing that Trahearne's luminescence had brightened and quickened almost as much as his own. Trahearne was right; he couldn't run away until he'd explained himself, no matter the cost. He couldn't read Trahearne's spirit clearly yet – surprise and confusion, mostly. "Why? How could I not love you? I've loved you since the moment we met."

Trahearne looked away in embarrassment, though he still hadn't let go of his hand. "That does sound like something you would do…"

Caoilfhionn laughed nervously. "Ahaha… But I wanted to tell you, even now when I might die tomorrow, because… I've seen how hard it is for you, and I wanted you to know how much you are loved. That I love you, completely, utterly, madly. That being in love with you is inspiring and makes me happy and mmff-!"

Trahearne had taken a quick step forward, drawing Caoilfhionn to him with wiry arms, and pressed his lips against his firmly. Caoilfhionn gasped, nearly swooning clean away, having just enough presence of mind to wrap his arms around Trahearne and kiss him back. The sensation – the strong arms around him, firm fingers on the back of his head, the lean body pressing against his, the lips softer than he'd imagined, surrounded by the rich scent of slightly bitter green freshness – he was transported to delights unknown. The realization was exploding in his mind like fireworks – Trahearne loved him back! By the Pale Tree, was it possible to be this happy!?

Trahearne pivoted to pin him against the cabin of the ship, and that made him even happier. His lover, despite having initiated such a bold kiss, was still shy at first, but as Caoilfhionn responded enthusiastically, became more forceful very rapidly and Caoilfhionn clung to him in a desperation of fulfilled yearning. Trahearne pulled away from him most unwillingly after several minutes, but they were both running short on air. "I never dared hope – but that was foolish of me, wasn't it? You are the very embodiment of hope, Caoilfhionn."

"A-am I?" panted Caoilfhionn, gazing up at him with with round eyes. "I always thought you would think me too young, too new – that you would have fallen in love already, though you said you had not…"

"And I always thought you would find me too old, too disturbing, too depressing. I knew you loved someone and never dared dream it would be me. Glad am I to find we were both wrong." Trahearne smiled at him, the sweetest smile he'd ever seen on him. Any Sylvari nearby would have been knocked over by the happiness and love radiating off both of them. "Fear not this night, you will not go astray-"

"Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way," Caoilfhionn joined in eagerly.

"And you can always be strong," Trahearne sang to him softly. "Lift your voice with the first light of dawn… Dawn's just a heartbeat away… Hope's just a sunrise away… You are my dawn, Caoilfhionn, the dawn that has brought light and joy to my long night."

"And you are the dusk that gives me peace and love," Caoilfhionn answered. "Without the dusk, the dawn couldn't exist."

Trahearne kissed him again, and rested his forehead against his own. "You say such pretty things about me."

"They're all true."

"It may take some time to believe that."

"I'll kill the dragon, and then we'll have all the time we could want."

"That would be nice. My Caoilfhionn. My… my Orchid Prince." And Caoilfhionn thought he had never loved that epithet so much as this moment, with Trahearne murmuring it to him in a deep, tender voice that resonated through him so. He suddenly didn't mind that Damara had let it slip.

"My Trahearne," he whispered back. "My scholar. My beloved. I am yours forever."

"And I am yours." Trahearne let go of his embrace and took his hand again. "But before forever, or even tomorrow comes, we should rest."

"With you?" Caoilfhionn asked, squeezing the hand gently.

"I'd like that."

Trahearne still did not sleep quite yet, even when they had lain down together in his tent. Caoilfhionn had dropped off rapidly, but he never could, not just like that. And besides, now he had ample justification to stare shamelessly at the young Sylvari in his arms, to study every vein on his smooth azure face and violet leaves, the peach luminescence running through his skin, the delicate tendrils of his beard, the contented smile that still transformed his whole expression, to breathe in his floral cinnamon scent. He had thought he loved him before; now he loved him tenfold. He'd watched him grow over the past almost-year, seen his newborn innocence tempered through trial and grief into a maturity that rendered him far more beautiful than the naive young Valiant he had been before. How would he grow, in ten years, or even five?

He had wondered before if he really deserved to be this happy, but as Caoilfhionn walked boldly into his feelings, that had bothered him less and less – because he really couldn't help it. He couldn't even feel guilty about it. He would take whatever happiness he could get in these dark, stressful times, and he had been given so much all at once…

Already Caoilfhionn had become his heart; the heart of his guild, Hope's Legacy; and with the stakes of the quest before them, the heart and hope of all Tyria. He hoped – oh, he hoped – he would not cure Orr only to lose him to the dragon. That would be unbearable. Caoilfhionn was skilled… but the dragon was very strong.

He decided to try not to think on it, not in this moment, instead filling his mind with more thoughts of the love that he still could not believe was requited. He kissed his forehead, gently as not to wake him, and closed his eyes to try to sleep.

Caoilfhionn woke the next morning early as he always did and at first did not know where he was – why there was breathing green warmth next to him – but then all his joy came flooding back, not that it had gone very far while he slept. Carefully, he propped himself up on one elbow to watch Trahearne sleep.

"You're watching me, sapling?" Trahearne murmured after a few minutes.

Caoilfhionn blinked. "You're awake?" He knew very well that Trahearne was not a morning person.

"Your aura woke me."

"Sorry."

"Not at all." Trahearne opened his eyes and smiled blearily at him. "I'm glad you're here."

Caoilfhionn bent and kissed him. "I'm glad to be here. Today, we fulfill your Wyld Hunt."

"With you beside me, we can do anything." Trahearne's arms slid closer around him and pulled him in for more kisses – many more kisses – until he pushed him away again, reluctantly pointing out that they really couldn't skip breakfast today of all days. Caoilfhionn laughed and rolled off the cot to look for his boots. He hadn't had enough – he could never have enough – but he would fight his hardest to ensure they had time later for more.

They assembled that day at a hidden passage in the back of the Cathedral of Verdance, Trahearne, Hope's Legacy, and a contingent of the best soldiers from all three Orders and beyond. There was Wegaff, and Mabbran, Elli, and Laranthir, and Carys, and Shashoo of the quaggans, Wynnet and Zrii and Afanen and even Sayeh al' Rajihd, and many more whom Caoilfhionn knew only in passing. Trahearne spoke to them all with stirring words, lifting Caladbolg high, and they cheered him and took up defensive positions at the mouth of the passage. "Stand ready," Trahearne told them, "and stand together!"

Hope's Legacy set off down the passage. "This is it," Trahearne said to them as they jogged together. "This is the Source of Orr, the font of its magic – the water from which this land draws life. The heartbeat of this land is weak and thready, but I can hear it. When we reach the Source… then we will know for sure."

They rounded a corner in the winding tunnel and nearly headlong into a group of undead. Caoilfhionn yelped in surprise, and Trahearne steadied him with a hand on his back. "Stay focussed, Caoilfhionn."

"I'm ready, Trahearne," Caoilfhionn reassured him. "Let's do this." Instantly he sprang away on feet of lightning, into the midst of the undead, zapping them away from him.

The fight was already fierce, past the guards all the way up to a great portal at the end of the corridor; here they might have been halted or even defeated by the Risen Knights there, but the last Eye of Zhaitan wished to see them… and that gave them the space to slay the Eye and the Knights.

Trahearne stepped up to the edge of the murky spring and looked at them all – but mostly at Caoilfhionn. "Here, at the end, I am glad that you're with me. We will cleanse Orr together… as we were meant to do."

Caoilfhionn stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing will harm you while you do this. I'll protect you."

Trahearne smiled at him and drew Caladbolg, planting it point down in the centre of the spring, then began to cast again. Once more, they took up positions around him, tense, waiting, ready.

The magic here was almost suffocating; Caoilfhionn could only hear the battle ringing about him dimly, fighting as if in a trance himself – the only thing before him was the next enemy, and the next, the only thing he could hear clearly was his own breathing as he cast fire and water at the Risen Knights rushing them.

Then Pact soldiers were storming into the chamber, shouting. "We're being overwhelmed. Fall back!"

"Form up and protect Marshal Trahearne at all costs!" called Warmaster Efut, and the soldiers rallied to her cry, making a solid line of steel and magic between them and the oncoming undead. Caoilfhionn spun and slashed, half-dancing his way across the battlefield, sliding between rusted swords and baleful spells, conscious only of the building pressure in the chamber. On, the undead came, on to his blades of fire, and the Pact forces were being pushed back, back towards the centre of the spring, to where the wind was gathering so cool and sweet.

Trahearne gave a shout and the spell released – green and gold light sprang from Caladbolg, vines erupted from the water, ancient husks of trees grew green and flowering about the walls of the chamber, and the water bubbled crystal clear among the pebbles. Everywhere Caoilfhionn looked turned to warm green life, beautiful, healthy, and strong. The remaining undead stumbled and ran; most were cut down by arrows and bullets and magic. He didn't even notice, as he ran towards the epicentre of the explosion of life, feeling it wash over him with gentle power.

"It's done," Trahearne said, panting heavily, his entire body shaking visibly with exertion, triumph ringing through his strained voice. "I can feel the waters beginning to radiate with the energy of Caladbolg, flowing everywhere the water touches." He staggered and fell forwards – into Caoilfhionn's arms.

Trahearne's weight carried them both to their knees in the spring and Caoilfhionn peered at him anxiously. "Trahearne, are you all right!?"

Trahearne lifted his head wearily, still collecting his breath. "It took a great deal out of me, but I will live-"

He didn't get any further because Caoilfhionn lunged forward and kissed him soundly, his embrace tightening around him – he was so proud of his love, so in love with his love, he could hardly stand it.

It took him a moment to realize that everyone was staring at them, and another moment to realize they were beginning to laugh and cheer. "By the Gods, my ship is sailing!" yelled Damara.

"Public displays are disgusting…ly cute," Phiadi said. "Ugh. I'm going to be sick."

"About time!" said Annhilda.

"Yes, if you two made eyes at each other when the other wasn't looking for much longer, I was gonna say something," Rhyoll said.

"Wait, what?" Caoilfhionn said, as they separated in confusion.

"I did not make eyes at him-" Trahearne began.

"Oh, yes you did," Wynnet said. "Spirits bless you, but everyone could see it. From both of you. Who asked who first, by the way?"

"I-I did?" Caoilfhionn confessed.

Wynnet smacked her armoured thigh. "Doern, you owe me five gold."

"So I do," Doern said. "Sadly, it is back at Fort Trinity."

Trahearne was pushing to his feet, and Caoilfhionn helped him. "Are you sure you don't want a medic?"

"I'm sure. Thank you." He still felt unsteady to Caoilfhionn, but he was recovering, both physically and as Marshal of the Pact. "We must regroup at Fort Trinity, and then we will have the opportunity to plan the final strike. Let this door be sealed to keep the undead out; nothing must be allowed to poison this spring again. The waters must spread undisturbed."

"We'll take care of it," Efut said. "The airlift should be here any minute now."

Leaning on Caoilfhionn's shoulder, Trahearne let out a great, relieved sigh. "It has been a part of me since I took my first steps, but now my Wyld Hunt is complete. It's time I redefine myself. A rare and unique challenge… but I have the Pact to keep me busy. Thank you all, for all that you've done."

Annhilda smirked at him. "Here, now, why are you talking like everything's ready to get packed up? We're not quite done yet!"

"Well, but we can have a little celebration tonight, can't we?" Damara wheedled. "We're heading back to the fort for tonight anyway."

"After we finalize our plans for tomorrow's attack," Trahearne said. "Anyone not involved in that can certainly celebrate as soon as they choose. Everyone gets extra rations tonight. I'm weary."

"You can rest soon," Caoilfhionn told him. "We're almost there."

Trahearne had gone to visit the medics on disembarking, and told Caoilfhionn to go help those trying to celebrate, so he had obediently gone off and helped serve two or three rounds of drinks to everyone – everyone except the engineers, that was, who refused and kept working feverishly on the airships in dock. But after an hour or so of listening to everyone chatter and laugh and blow off a little steam, he began to search for him. Trahearne had left the medics, and the strategy session, but no one knew where he had gone…

Sayeh al' Rajihd materialized out of the shadows near the airship landing. "Come to me. We must discuss."

"Lady Sayeh?" Caoilfhionn said politely.

"You are looking for Trahearne, are you not?"

"Yes… have you seen him?"

He thought the enigmatic woman might have smiled behind her breathing mask. "The Marshal is also a solitary creature. He avoids the attention of others, but not mine. You'll find him up on the vessel above."

"Thank you, Lady Sayeh. May your steps be relentless."

Trahearne was on the deck of the ship docked there, the Humble, leaning on the railing and looking out at Orr thoughtfully.

"What's the matter, beloved?" Caoilfhionn asked, coming up beside him and settling his arms about Trahearne's waist.

Trahearne looked down and smiled, and put his own arm about Caoilfhionn's shoulders. "This is a great day, a joyous day… but I am still troubled. To achieve such a victory, with so much yet to be done…"

Caoilfhionn bonked his head into Trahearne's shoulder. "I know. However. Put down your burden for but a moment and let the Pact cheer its Marshal! We've been waiting for you."

Trahearne hesitated, then nodded. "You're right. Victory does not end a general's responsibility to his soldiers. I shall join the celebration."

Caoilfhionn beamed at him. "Good! Let's go together."

"By the Tree… They're going to swarm us, aren't they?"

"You say that like it's the most dreadful of fates. They're happy for us!" They really were; nearly everyone he talked to had congratulated him. The news had spread quickly, it seemed, the gossip on everyone's tongue.

"Isn't it, though? …Can't we meet in the grotto under Lyssa's Temple instead?"

"I'd be willing to help restore that place to its rightful purpose, once the waters of the Source have had time to spread so far…"

"I'll stay for a little while, and then I need to rest. We have to be up early tomorrow."