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You are in the tent, your heart is pounding.
Ezmerelda is outside. Joannus is still here, standing over you. Thank Kossuth you weren't just dreaming that, or you might've ended it right here. She is sitting by your side, looking down at you... angrily.
An awkward tension fills the air, and you give her an apologetic look.
"Look, stranger..." she says. "I waited days for you to wake up. So before you pass out again, you better tell me who you are."
"Joannus..." you say to her, weakly.
She furrows her eyebrows. Frustrated, she continues, "There's a feeling that tells me I know you. You seem so familiar, that I... put myself in danger to make sure you were revived. Ezmerelda said you think you're related to me, but... I don't know if I believe that."
"I was up there... I was trying to rescue you," you say, weakly. "I'm... sorry?"
She grabs your shoulders and shakes you, as if trying to sober you up. "Idiot! I need answers! Why are you so dull? Bah, don't tell me this was a waste of time!"
"It's t-true!" you say, trying to calm her. "I'm your sister! It's me, Joannus, it's... it's Aranuel. I... I was up there to save you, from the merchants."
"From what what?" she says. "Wait-- say that again."
"F-from the-"
"No, say your name again."
"Aranuel," you say, as calmly but intently as you can.
You stare at her. She's holding eye contact, but her face is blank.
"It's me, Aranuel, I've come to save you."
She focuses hard. She looks away, scanning her memories. You can tell she's deep in thought.
Then something seems to light up in her eyes. "Aranuel..." she says, testing the word.
Recognition seems to hit her all at once, and her face goes pale. You feel a flood of emotions; you want to hug her, to comfort her and feel her breath on your hair. You KNOW by her face that she remembers you. All that time you spent braving the unknowns of the world, the decade you spent alone, away from your family, for HER, not knowing if your beloved sister was dead or alive, and she's here now. It was all for this moment. And she hugs you...
But something isn't right. The joy you feel for a fleeting moment, the feeling of finality, it all fades away. Because she is crying.
And not happy crying either. You wrap your arms around her and try to understand how she could possibly be feeling. Her sobs sound guttural and horrible, like a mourning widow. The type of crying that means know you've lost something really important.
What's the matter with her? Isn't she happy to see you again? How could this be sad for her?
You no longer understand whether your mission is over. She was supposed to be strong, wasn't she?
But in your heart, you know exactly what's wrong.
(cont.)
