A/N: My apologies for the lateness of this chapter! Work caught up with me, unfortunately. We are rapidly nearing the end of this story so I hope you enjoy!

The night fell, thousands of tiny stars shining over the Grove. Crickets chirped quietly, and the wind rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees. Around a small campfire three gracious Sylvari women rested from a long day. Their modest fire burned and popped, eating away at the block of wood they had started it on. Most of it had turned black and charred already, and the flames began decreasing in size. The light of the fire reflected in the sword stuck in the ground, and Sariel stared at it, followed the dancing lights with her eyes, and sighed. Across from her, a proud Sylvari with remarkably high cheekbones, and bright aqua eyes sat. She, as well, stared at the fire, a content smile on her face.

'It's beautiful, isn't it?' she sighed, and the girl next to her, a sapling still, nodded enthusiastically. Sariel smiled at the young one, then shifted her gaze to look at the woman protecting her. Serame had been her friend since she had emerged from her pod. Sariel had been there, had watched it happen, and the first thing they felt when their gazes locked, was a connection deeper than friendship.

It wasn't love. Sariel didn't even notice she was staring at Serame, those hollow cheeks seeming even deeper by the light of the fire. No, Sariel only felt love for one she knew she could never have. She would work for it. She would fight for it, until her last day, even if it had been futile from the beginning. Yet Serame she was something different. Sariel loved her like a sister, and at the same time hated her like a sister. She could not stand being outdone by her, she could not even stand being with her for too long. And on the other hand, she didn't want to leave her alone either.

The object of Sariel's musings suddenly looked up from the fire as the sapling girl fell asleep, leaning her head on her shoulder. She smiled, and carefully shifted the girl's head to her lap, where she could sleep peacefully. She stroked her hair tenderly.

'Sleep, my beloved Lania. Let the night take you away, I will protect you.' Serame's eyes were warm as she looked at the girl. Sariel gritted her teeth. In her head, she imagined herself resting in Faolain's lap, being caressed by her as Serame did young Lania, speaking words of love and hearing them returned. She slowly shook her head. It was hopeless. Although she spent a lot of time with Faolain, it was always pure business. She had never spoken about personal things with the Firstborn, let alone touched her like that. Not that she would dare. Faolain would never allow it, and even if she would- Sariel sighed again. Even if she would, there's still Caithe to deal with.

'The Firstborn again?' Serame asked, not looking up. Sariel grunted softly, but did not really reply. Her pride did not allow her to.

'You are too docile for her, Sariel,' Serame said slowly, shifting her gaze from her lover's face towards the fire, then to her friend. 'Firstborn Faolain chose Caithe for a reason. Caithe is the only one she can allow herself to follow without rejecting her own pride. Caithe can be at least as strong as she, which is why Faolain must possess her. Don't you understand?' Her voice was soft, she was not trying to hurt Sariel, although her words were harsh. Sariel looked up at her, her fingers closing around her blade. It was reassuring, the familiar feeling of the steel in her fingers, the feeling of strength, of being a warrior.

'She possessed you from the moment she met you, Sariel,' Serame continued, 'which is why you never stood a chance.' They locked eyes, Sariel increasingly aggravated, Serame still infuriatingly calm, with an air of superiority. An offhanded gesture directed both of their gazes down to the fire. 'If mistress Faolain is the flame, then you are but the wood she feeds on, you are replaceable, in a way,' Serame said, then licked her fingers and in one smooth movement pressed on the flames, taking their oxygen and extinguishing them. 'While Caithe is the air she needs to burn.' Sariel stared at the smoking wood with wide eyes. Then she gritted her teeth again and gave her sister a challenging look.

'Then what does that make you?' she asked, sneering. Serame chuckled softly.

'I am the embers that remain.'

.

Voices in the distance broke the growing tension, and even Lania's eyes fluttered open as the noise came closer. Sariel could make out Cadeyrn's obnoxious voice clearly, yet the others were very unclear. She turned and peered into the darkness to see who approached, while Serame conjured a few flames forth in the palms of her hands and re-lit the fire. It took a few tries, but then the flames sprang alive again on the charred wood. Lania fed it a few more fresh branches from the ground.

'Sariel,' a voice said warmly, and she recognized it immediately as Canach. He would truly never leave Cadeyrn's side, now would he?

'Did you meet Lania, Cadeyrn?' Serame asked the other, who came to stand into the fire's light, before nodding curtly at the sapling. Lania giggled, then shyly leaned closer to Serame. Cadeyrn's face took on a proud expression as he returned the favour with a snort.

'Lania, did you meet Firstborn Faolain yet?' The sapling's eyes shot open wide as Faolain appeared at Cadeyrn's side, and Sariel stood up with a gasp. Faolain immediately extended her hand and the tips of her fingers touched Sariel's chest ever so slightly.

'At ease, warrior,' Faolain said, her voice low, yet it pierced the air. 'You are not on duty, Sariel, no need to be so tense.' Sariel's mouth went dry and after a few moments of hesitation, she just nodded and sat back down. To her surprise, Faolain sat down next to her, elegantly folding her legs underneath her dress. She looked around the group, amber eyes unreadable. Serame nodded her head humbly at the Firstborn, but she gave no response. Lania just stared wide-eyed, holding on to Serame's sleeve. Cadeyrn slumped down at a free spot and Canach joined on the other side. Sariel watching them for a while, feeling like something was off - until she noticed Canach was not holding a drink of some sorts. Canach himself seemed uncomfortable too, not sure where to leave his hands.

The group sat in silence for a moment, waiting for one of them to break the ice. Many questions were raised but left unspoken.

'So,' Cadeyrn began eventually, his way of speaking slightly imitating Faolain's, in a futile hope of sounding more impressive, 'I need to speak to all of you about your Dream.' He paused for a moment, as the others looked at him questioningly. Sariel repressed several remarks about not wasting the Firstborn's time, and kept quiet. Instead, she studied Faolain's face, who stared into the fire just like Serame had done. The fire reflected in her eyes, as if she burned on the inside. There was not a single hint of annoyance, of disdain, at Cadeyrn's actions in her expression. Sariel looked at her with disbelief. Was she really going to allow Cadeyrn to blabber about his Dream?

'I know I have spoken about Ventari before,' Cadeyrn continued, slowly overthinking his words. 'But now I ask of you to think about your Dream outside of the, the, eh-' Cadeyrn muttered, seeking for the right word. Faolain supplied it without even looking up from the fire.

'Restraints.'

'Ah! The restraints put on us by the rules of the Tablet.' Another silence fell. Sariel just stared in disbelief at the Firstborn. She had discussed this with Cadeyrn beforehand?

'I want you to think just about what you exactly saw, and not interpret what needs to be done yet.' Serame's gaze crossed Sariel's. They both were questioning, and weary, but Sariel's tension was aimed at Cadeyrn, while Serame's was aimed at Faolain. She seemed to be waiting for something, eagerly hoping for something to happen. Sariel succumbed to the absurd situation.

'Fine. Do you want me to describe it, Cadeyrn?' She asked, and the man nodded. Her glance went to the Firstborn again, but she was still staring into the fire.

'I dreamt of a camp, where many Sylvari gathered. I dreamt of this very sword, and,' she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts, 'I dreamt of you, Firstborn Faolain. I dreamt of a secluded place, with a lake and a tall, dark tree. But then.. I dreamt of agony. I dreamt of being surrounded, of fear..' Sariel trailed off. She did not feel like sharing any details of her Dream. When she looked up, she noticed Faolain's burning eyes were focused on her.

'She has it too, Cadeyrn,' Faolain said, 'she is also part of the Nightmare.'

'This can't be a coincidence. It can't be!' Cadeyrn made a fist, unsure whether to be pained or euphoric. He excitedly turned to Serame, 'And you? What was your dream like?'

By the time the group broke up, the dawn had already arrived.

.

Caithe woke early in the morning, alone in her house. She looked around, but Faolain was nowhere in sight. She checked for any signs that she had been here, she could have arrived late and left early of course, but there were none. Caithe got up, supple and agile like always, but found herself to be slightly distraught by Faolain's absence, and sighed. It had been another night, of a few in a row already, that she had spent alone, and it made her feel cold and sad now that she thought about it.

Caithe wondered what could have taken her lover, what would have kept her from her side for so long, if anything, it just seemed so unlike her. Absently musing Caithe gathered her belongings for the day and splashed some water in her face. She wondered if she should worry. The realization made her lower her hands and stop all movement for a moment.

They had made it to a point where Caithe wondered whether she needed to worry. In all their time together, the explorations and travels, the very first beginnings of the Grove, Caithe had always just outright worried. There would have been no question. Images flashed before her mind's eye, a frozen lake and a room in a tower and the clearing. When she closed her eyes she could even feel fears that had not been originally hers. With their connection blurring more and more each day, there was no way of knowing if anything had happened. Caithe's eyes widened. Suddenly she remembered in all clarity the feeling of a part being torn from the Dream when Riannoc disappeared. She gasped and leaned on the table, trying to force herself to calm down.

A soft knock on the door, followed by a deep voice, shook Caithe from her thoughts. A small spark of hope flared in her heart, but immediately died as she realized Faolain would never have knocked on the door, she would simply have opened it.

'Caithe?' She recognized the voice as Malomedies', and the entrance slid open to let him in. He stepped in carefully, still slightly leaning on a cane he used for support. Caithe smiled when she saw him.

'Malomedies,' she said warmly, then added, 'It has been a while.' The man nodded and sat down, gesturing for her to do the same. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him, giving him a curious look. Malomedies was usually with his saplings, or studying the Dream, and did not see many of the Firstborn often, apart from Kahedins.

'You were troubled,' Malomedies said. 'Now that I am here, I might as well ask you the cause.' His tone wasn't unfriendly, but Caithe found he had an air of authority that made it difficult to deny him anything. She hesitated for a moment, but knew Malomedies was to be trusted, so after exchanging looks, she leaned her head on her hand and gave in.

'It's Faolain,' she said, sighing a little, 'I was just about to go looking for her. She hasn't shown herself for several days and it doesn't sit right with me.'

'So you noticed something as well?' Malomedies asked, and it made Caithe jerk up and look at him with wide eyes.

'What do you mean?'

'Did you not then?'

'I, well -' Caithe hesitated again. 'We fight a lot more than we used to. Her mood is unpredictable, even moreso than usual. And this constant absence.. ' She trailed off, looking at the other to see if he gave any sign of recognition. He just cast his eyes down however, humming and nodding, and stroked his chin.

'I spoke to Faolain two nights back,' He answered slowly, a thoughtful look on his face, 'She seemed,' a pause, in which he sought for the right word, 'far away, as it were. And I recognized a feeling I had felt before, when I wasn't here in the Grove.' He stopped, and Caithe wondered if she should urge him on to talk more, or if she should not. Malomedies had never told much about his time in Rata Sum, and did not seem very eager to do so now.

'What kind of feeling?' Caithe asked quietly. It felt as if a block of ice had been dumped into her stomach. How could she not have noticed anything, if other Sylvari did? She should have been the one closest to Faolain, the first to realize. It made her upset, and jealous.

'I cannot describe it,' Malomedies sighed. 'Something dark, and dangerous. I had hoped you knew.' They looked at each other for a moment, and Caithe wondered what would be best to ask him next.

'I did feel like she was envious, more than before,' Caithe said, tapping her knuckles on the table. 'But she always made sure to try and hide it.'

'And she is good at that,' Malomedies supplied.

'She is very good at that,' Caithe agreed. The cold feeling in her stomach grew steadily colder as she realized she might have missed a lot of signs, by brushing them off as simple whims of Faolain's mood.

'Keep an eye on her,' Malomedies said eventually, as if they had reached a conclusion. 'It is not often I am truly worried, but she worries me.'

'She can take care of herself,' Caithe retorted, almost laughing about this. Honestly, she was Firstborn just like him, and nothing had quite taken her down yet. Malomedies smiled at that, nodding in agreement.

'Oh, she certainly can. It is those around her, I am worried about.' His gaze seemed to pierce Caithe, and she knew he meant her as well. Caithe stood up, clenching her fists, trying to ignore the fear that was growing in her heart.

'I will find her.'

.

Outside the Grove, in a valley where the vines were twisted and the high trees grew so thickly, that barely any sunlight shimmered through, was where Caithe found her love. A small crowd of around fifty Sylvari had gathered, Caithe had felt their rowdy excitement from quite a distance away. She followed the buzzing feeling, and finally turned a well-hidden corner. Her eyes grew wide at what she saw. The Sylvari were all staring at one point before them, cheering and applauding. On a an elevated part of the clearing, at the other end of the field Cadeyrn sat, lifted above the crowd on his make-shift stage, in a twisted throne made from poison ivy and large, burgundy leaves. He had been speaking to his audience, making wide, sweeping gestures to emphasize his points, and the Sylvari became more enthusiastic with the minute. Caithe, in her utter confusion, dropped her cloaking magic and stood, at the very end of the crowd, staring. Cadeyrn noticed her appearance and stopped mid-sentence, then sat up and extended his hand at her, as an inviting motion.

'Why, Caithe,' he said, and the audience turned to look at her, 'How very nice of you to join us. I'll say, I knew you would come to me when the time was right.' He grinned widely, and his audience backed him up with cheers and whistles.

'I'm not here for you, Cadeyrn,' Caithe snarled, then looked around. 'Faolain, where are you?'

'Oh, Caithe,' Faolain answered, slowly appearing from the shadows behind the throne where Cadeyrn sat. 'I missed you, my love,' she said, her entire silhouette was hidden in the dark, but her eyes blazed like fire, lighting beacons in the black. Caithe ran towards her, jumped on the stage, ignoring the shocked sounds of the Sylvari behind her, and grasped Faolain's hands.

'Faolain, where have you been? What are you doing here?' Caithe couldn't stop the sadness and fear from sounding in her voice. Faolain caressed her cheek and smiled at her.

'Caithe, something wonderful has happened. We have been freed of our fears and gained immense power,' she said, sounding genuinely happy, 'a power I will set to use so that nothing will ever drive us apart. No Sylvari, no spirit, no dragon will ever separate us, my love!'

Caithe shook her head in confusion, though she smiled at Faolain's words. 'But nothing ever will! I wonder what sparked this deep-rooted fear in you, my love. You should know, all I want is to be by your side.'

'And you will be,' Faolain whispered, lovingly pressing their foreheads together, 'You shall be forever mine.'

.

Behind her, Cadeyrn had dug his nails so deep into the leaves of his throne that his fingers started bleeding. It was through sheer force of will that he repressed the infuriated snarl he wanted to express.

Everything had been going just fine and dandy until she had come along. He had been in charge over his new movement, preaching his train of thoughts, guiding all these aimless sheep into the right direction. Cadeyrn had even felt powerful over Faolain, silently as she had waited behind him, hovering, letting him speak for her. And those Sylvari in front of him had listened, and cheered and screamed his name. They would follow him. He was their leader. He was the king. And they were at Court.

And then Caithe, fair as always, had appeared before his eye, and for a moment he had thought she was here to finally acknowledge him properly, to apologize, and to rest her soft body at his side obediently. How wrong he had been. She had snarled at him as if he were a dog, too excited in greeting her. He was no dog. He was twice the leader she would ever be. In his mind, Cadeyrn had already surpassed the Mother Tree herself. Obviously he was far more suited, far more consequent, practical and rational to lead a new people to happiness. Or at least, lead them away from the lies of the Dream.

Caithe did not accept his authority. Cadeyrn thought about this. He had not had any actual authority yet, he had borrowed Faolain's voice to gather these listeners. It had been his sound, but her call. He looked at the women before him, who spoke whisperingly, fingers entwined, as if they had forgotten all about the world around them. He saw that smile, that hidden blush on Caithe's face, and again yearned to capture it, to make her look at him that way.

Suddenly, something clicked in his mind. He had borrowed Faolain's authority. He might as well take it from her, she would not need it as he would gain a following quickly, he was certain of this. She was right there, on the stage, and even Caithe would be here to see it. A small grin appeared on Cadeyrn's face. He needed, no, he wanted to take her down, in front of the entire audience. Then they would know who was a true leader, and who was simply Sylvari. Cadeyrn slowly realized he was actually looking forward to this, that he wanted to see what her face looked like in severe pain - he wanted to see her die.

He almost wanted to sit back and enjoy the show. A few moments from now, a brighter future would unfold for him, and he would change the path, and the miserable fate set out for him. He would be elevated from Secondborn to King of Firstborn. He would have any Sylvari at his disposal, and those he liked at his side, or in his bed. Caithe would be his at last. Never again would Sariel or Canach dare to even disagree with him, let alone laugh at him. He would change it all, and it would start with this. He would make his own destiny, and take whatever he needed to make it happen.

He gestured to Sariel and waved her closer. She bent over slightly, holding her head closer to him to hear his whispered command.

'Take the Firstborn. She will be the first sacrifice to the Nightmare.'

Sariel's eyes widened slightly, but then nodded, a solemn look on her face. Only her eyes betrayed a spark of hope, of grasping opportunities.

She stepped forward, unsheathed her sword, and attacked Caithe.