A LONG VIGIL AT ITS END

It’s something neither of them will forget. Efrideet doesn’t seem particularly bothered as she says it but something in the young Iron Lord’s eyes gives it away. It’s in her posture, in her smile…the thought of her Light being ripped away in the same moment she was once again returned to life would haunt her for some time to come. Saladin is perhaps the only person she trusts with that knowledge, even if he doesn’t wish to share it. But she knows he’ll understand that it’s a burden too heavy to bear alone.

But her smile brightens and sensing that change is needed, Efrideet launches into a surprisingly enthusiastic summary of her time at the Farm. For as long as she’d been around, Efrideet had always managed to find a way to bring the slightest bit of cheer to the worst situations. Her second wave of energy isn’t half-hearted or forced; it’s as vibrant as ever. All things considered, it seems that she actually likes the Farm. After all, she doesn’t need the Light to enjoy patrolling the wilds or keeping watch from a perch of her liking.

Most of all, she just seems happiest that Saladin is now there as well.

She pauses as he stumbles over his words, eyebrows half-raised expectantly. She nods once as he finishes, unblinking as she looks back at him. She puts both hands on his arm in response and gives it a gentle squeeze.

                “I promise that I’m not going anywhere.” Then without a second’s hesitation, she swats him across the shoulder. “That goes for you too. You still have to explain where you’ve been this whole time. If you got lost…”

She’s dead serious but there’s a hint of teasing in her words. Efrideet has no idea just how far he’s had to travel if it’s taken him this long to find her. They’re stronger together though and she’d prefer that from now on, they stay close.

The brightness that Efrideet exerts make Saladin relax, if only a little. He doesn’t get how she can be so excitable - but that has a lot less to do with the situation and more to do with the fact that he’s just never understood that. It’s been a stark difference between them since day one. Nowadays, Saladin finds it funny more than anything.

He listens, because he cares and is genuinely curious, and also because after all this time alone, just hearing her stories is the best thing he could possibly imagine.

When she swats him, he makes a half-hearted annoyed sound, pawing at her hand. “I was not lost, Efrideet, it was just a very long way to walk.” It is the truth, to be fair. He clasps his hands together and ruminates before explaining further.

“I kept moving away from the City, away from the Cabal. By the time I stopped it was too late to worry about going anywhere. I was more concerned about staying alive. Once I picked up communications from here, I started making my way - but it wasn’t a quick jaunt, you know.” 

Wide blue eyes watch him owlishly as she takes in his words. She sees her own feelings mirrored in his expression. They’ve forgiven so much already… and Efrideet is glad for it. She wishes that Radegast could see them now. They’d finally called a truce and the City fell. What horribly ironic timing, she thought.

Efrideet laughed. At first, it sounded like a choked back sob. But when no tears followed, it was decidedly laughter. It bubbled over before she could stop it, a grin tugging at her lips. After all this time alone, her smile finally reached her eyes again. It was completely ridiculous and hardly warranted laughter and yet…

She’s just barely able to swallow her laughter again, murmuring apologies all over again each time she burst into a fit of giggles. Efrideet bites her lower lip to finally get herself back under control. For a brief moment, it feels like the days when she used to drive him crazy with the way she’d laugh at her own jokes and pretend to take nothing seriously. 

                “I fought,” she finally replies. “But only once I reached the City. Many of us did. I wanted to look for you but we were being overrun by Cabal too quickly.”

Efrideet sighs. The Cabal had been planning this attack without any hint; there was no way for them to have been prepared to defend themselves. The same had been the case for the City.

                “You should know how impossible it is to be rid of me,” she teases gently. After all, for nearly five centuries he’d been told that she was likely dead. Yet here she is, just as persistent as ever. “It was a close call though… right before the Light ran out. Nanna almost didn’t manage in time.”

To bring me back, she added silently. The Ghost had barely even enough Light left to heal the younger Iron Lord’s injuries; only those which were life-threatening could be fixed with the little Light the two of them still shared. The rest had left Efrideet feeling more human than she could ever remember… even now. It seemed that both Iron Lords had seen better days as of late.

Efrideet laughs. It’s a surprisingly clear sound, a chiming bell, and Saladin wonders how she can laugh right now.

‘It was a close call’, she said, and Saladin’s mind conjures a million pictures of a fallen, broken Efrideet, and Nanna weakly bobbing above her, begging her to come back. In all of those images, there’s darkness around, threatening to swallow Guardian and Ghost whole. 

He can’t think about that. But now that she’s said it, Saladin will never forget it. Something new to haunt his dreams. But he hides that behind whatever is left of the wall between his face and his emotions. He won’t tell Efrideet he wishes she hadn’t said it.

She leads him inside, surprisingly quiet compared to her usual self. It’s easy to see that the inhabitants of the Farm have made do with what they have and it has been close quarters for all. But she leads him all the way to what must have been an old attic or loft at some point, now converted into a little ‘room’ of sorts, marked only by a handful of possessions she’d brought with her. Leave it to Efrideet to find the highest and quietest spot, if just to sleep. She nudges him to sit as she eventually seats herself cross-legged on the edge of her ‘bed.’

                “We’re managing,” she replies and there is a subtle yet noticeable emphasis on ‘we.’ She’s been keeping herself busy, unsurprisingly. There is little else she can do without her Light but try and keep others busy as well. Without the Vanguard— Efrideet stops that train of thought. She’s getting to that, she thinks as she shakes her head. “Tyra is here. That’s as much as I know. Some of the non-Guardians have managed to get a broadcast out that will hopefully lead others back here.”

It barely answers even one of his questions, she knows that. Efrideet sways slightly, reminded of the utter exhaustion that came with waiting for answers. She wants the same as he does but she’d chosen to set her focus elsewhere—here, on the Farm—just to avoid dwelling on them. Efrideet absently wonders how he had gone centuries wondering—if he had wondered at all—where she had gone when she’s barely lasted a few weeks on her own. If it were the time for that, she might have felt guilty. The feeling only makes her next words all the more ambiguous in their meaning.

                “I’m sorry.”

He glances around the attic, smiling just a little at it because it’s so Efrideet. Everything about it speaks of her and it’s something nice to think on in all this.

It’s incredibly relaxing to sit - Saladin hasn’t thought about how long he’s been moving, how restless every moment of so-called reprieve has been on his long journey. As Efrideet speaks, it feels like being stabbed again not being able to know where the other people he cares about are. He knows it isn’t her fault that she can’t give him more answers. He knows he can’t ask for more - she’s here, and she’s alive.

He isn’t sure exactly what she is apologizing for. In their long and rocky relationship, there are plenty of apologies they probably still owe each other. After all this, Saladin thinks they should call it even.

“It’s alright.” He replies gently. “It’s alright.” He repeats the words, intending to comfort, to forgive her for whatever it is that is on her mind. But just looking at her face is a relief he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to feel. She’s alive. She’s here. They're together. It was all he had wanted, and he has it. It’s all he has, at this point.

He swallows hard and ducks his head, unwilling to let Efrideet watch if his expression starts to break. “I spent so much time just...wondering. If you had stayed to fight or fled. I did not want to think that you could be -" He can't say gone. Even though she's right here. "I didn't know." He says, at a loss.

She’s almost surprised by just how tightly he holds her. Efrideet takes a deep breath and when she releases it, weeks of anxiety are exhaled with it. This whole time she’s wondered about his fate. It would be fitting for either of them to die defending the Last City, the way they always have. But after learning of SIVA and the rest of the Iron Lords, she thinks selfishly, she isn’t ready to lose him yet.

Learning that even immortality could not save her family had been a harsh blow. This newfound mortality seems only harsher somehow, as if the universe was only waiting for the two of them to catch up with the others. Not yet, she continues to think silently. Not just yet. Maybe all of this would be easier if they had not just found each other’s friendship. They had wasted it back when time was on their side; now things are different.

                “That’s not how it works…”

Making up the rules as she goes, as always. Laughter is lost in her throat when instead she swallows a sob. Efrideet has watched countless Guardians sit and wait for friends, family, and fireteams… some of whom have returned and some who have not. She’d been waiting as well. He claims to have prayed but she wonders to whom? A Traveler with no Light? Or something else? Efrideet hadn’t prayed; she simply waited. She’s glad that she did.

                “Come on,” she murmurs after a long, unusually silent moment, gently releasing herself from his grasp so that she can tug him in the direction of the farmhouse nearby. They can talk there, undisturbed. Her grip, although weaker than ever without her Light, never leaves his arm… just in case. “It’s not home but we’ve made do.”

Saladin just nods and lets Efrideet tug him along. There are so many eyes on them - its understandable, to a point, as he and Efrideet are rather famous, so of course they are recognized. But Saladin has no want to entertain that now, close as he feels to breaking.

Saladin isn’t a man of faith so much as he is a man of action. He mourned his family by burying himself in work, and had he had the opportunity to do so while separated from Efrideet, he would have. But faced with no other choice, he had called to whatever would listen.

He was beyond thankful that his prayers had been answered.

“How are things?” He asks quietly. Right down to business. He can’t break now, although trying to focus on duty through his exhausation is decidedly difficult. He wants to talk about Efrideet more, ask her all sorts of other things about herself and how she has been managing, but this is also the first chance to know anything about what’s happened to humanity, to the City, to the Guardians. He needs answers. “The City? Tyra and Shiro? Zavala and Shaxx?” 

The ghost trailed behind some of the wolves, it zipped under the Iron Lord’s cloak. Scooting past the other it took a spot close to the man’s head. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” It asked looking at the other and then ahead. Its back shell shifted around adjusting unsure if this area was really a place a guardian should or would be. “Perhaps we should go?”

“All will be well.” Saladin comforted. The wolves padded alongside, slowly spreading out. Although the threat of SIVA in the Plaguelands had been contained, Saladin feared that even a handful of Fallen escaping with a hint of the technoplague could cause future disaster. This is what brought him further east than even the City’s patrols would go, into barren and empty lands devoid of human life.

He did not know what there might be out here, but he was determined to ensure the Fallen Splicers would not pass the secret of SIVA any further. 

Saladin throws his arms around her without a second thought, hugging her close. His head is ducked down over her shoulder, unwilling to let anyone see the expression on his face.

“To be fair, Efrideet, you reappeared after being gone for hundreds of years and immediately complained that I hadn’t made a statue of you. I think I’m entitled to do something similar to you.”

It’s funny, but he can’t exactly laugh. Some of him is still ready to break down and just cry over the utter relief that Efrideet is alive.

The words she says make his heart hurt. He’s also taken aback at how cold and mundane their touch feels - there is no static electricity, no sparks of Arc Light jumping between them - it’s chargeless and lifeless compared to what Saladin is used to. An new reality, without their Light.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. “I prayed every night that you were safe, wherever you were.” He’d looked to the stars each and every evening and asked for that alone. He’d find a way through whatever came his way, whatever pain there was with being made mortal again. He only wanted Efrideet to be safe - he couldn’t lose her now.

Saladin has been in better shape. It’s clear that the long, Lightless journey to get here took its toll on him and his no-longer-immortal body.

“ what, y'also called her a lil munchkin? ”

“ Lady Efrideet was constantly in the habit of throwing people from mountains back in the days of the Iron Lords. I saw her do it to many - rogue Risen, Fallen - and to Lord Felwinter more than once.”

“ I have never called her a ‘munchkin’... - the two of us did not get along for a long, long time, and my behavior...rubbed her the wrong way. “