It’s a long, long trek between Kryta and the furthest reaches of southern Maguuma. I knew this on an intellectual level, I suppose – I’d certainly spent enough time in my life poring over maps – but in the weeks that followed, Erin, Caolinn and I were to experience that time and distance in the most excruciating of ways.
Both had agreed to join me, at least, after our sojourn to Kryta and the burial of Blaise’s body. I’d half expected the sylvari to go her own way now that Spark was no longer a threat, but she was more committed to Darr’s cause than I’d realised.
“We protect Tyria,” she’d said stubbornly, with the first glimmer of real emotion I’d seen in her for a long time. “I’m not about to throw that away.”
I didn’t argue. Not only did I need all the allies I could get, but Caolinn was right about one thing: Zurra and the Inquest were every bit as dangerous, probably moreso, than Spark. Their reach was bigger, their aims more sinister, and where the Inquest were concerned, there’d be no qualms of conscience at the last minute, not even over the death of a friend.