Nivara fought the urge to stick her tongue out at the Singfall siren.

Almost like a childish spat or a sibling rivalry between dragons the two had been separated and coerced into opposite corners of the room like a crowd expecting another round of an already decided boxing match. Nivara clutched her half eaten, mealy Insta roll in her hurt hand, still throbbing from her earlier assault to Reina's meagre self esteem. She shouldn't have hit her. She should've ended her.

Kaldra curled up in her lap, purring happily despite all the rushing about and people returning to their seats as all of the other Council of Names members present had taken a much needed break. Those who needed to relieve themselves did so and grabbed leftovers from wherever was closest as young kits sneaked a peek at the proceedings before being gently ushered away by their parents and guardians. Nivara gave them a smile but soon remembered the burn on her face just as they ran away.

Reina gave her the evil eye, her pale blue skin was blemished by bruises and specks of blood missed by her holding a large wad of gauze up to her face despite the Tinker Mole leader's assistance to immediately heal her with her strange Forger Craft. Nivara ignored the Singfall siren and focused on stroking her brave Oathed to calm herself down, Quilla looking on proudly while a certain Caithsee guarded the other side of the room.

Rizelle fought back a grin, Nivara ultimately glad to break the dumb sirens nose even temporarily just to see her reaction as everyone begin returning to their seats. Hack kept a wide berth from the Havalog chieftain as Tuskarr readjusted his belt and stowed his giant war hammer underneath the chair haphazardly, still in mid conversation with the always affable Captain of the Ravenback's.

Nivara finished off the last of her roll, watching as different members pocketed or stuffed various meats, cheeses or fruits into their mouth before clearing themselves down of any crumbs or stains. Even the grandiose Raven Lord, maskless and all somehow managed to down an entire cup of what looked like overly clear water and the last wedge of a vegetable filled pie, starchy and potato like much like the Caldorian plants she had used to blot out fires on long nights in the deserts.

They had called it greevy pie, only recently grown by Floodbound farmers exclusively in Neridia.

It was strange to see such a stern and revered council member chatting amicably, even after so long arguing and disagreeing over such little things. The amusement and laughter turned to frustration and annoyance that not even Nivara herself knew the reason for all her anger. It was like it had been bound to her very soul, the audible pause lasting longer and longer until finally, she reached a breaking point.

"I want answers. No more introductions. No more delays."

The soothing atmosphere they had created shattered under the weight of such simple words but such a demanding ask right off the bat. Kaldra's antics didn't help the serious nature of Nivara's questioning, deciding at that very moment to bat playfully at her cloak's silky fabric and roll around in her lap like a cat.

"Of course, where would you like to start?"

Quilla's nonchalant response stunned Nivara for several seconds, fully prepared for being refused after so many attempts to search for them herself. She had travelled for so many years to so many different places only to receive the same refutable answer over and over again.

She took a moment to compose herself, tears of pure emotion building up, years of unreleased frustration kept to herself for so long but still unable to rent it free just yet. Her thoughts primed on so many moments throughout her life, so many people she had to abandon in Caldor just to survive.

The words to follow such a simple agreement failed her, the thoughts of her family long dead by the desires of her grimoire, the disgruntled discussions with a less than oblivious Sand Wraith and lastly, the young Fire Traited boy who had reignited her spark to live again. Not even Reina's sulking could ruin this moment, this very reason for all her struggles throughout Wayward and beyond.

"For a long time my Trait has been unavoidable. Whether it's through my own lack of control, it being controlled by others or others simply refusing to help to control it in the first place. I cannot stop it. No one else can stop it either. Why?"

Nivara tried to hide the desperation in her voice, slowing down her speech in an attempt to focus on the words rather than the emotion associated with it but the more she spoke the more she had to cling to her Oathed for support. Kaldra curled around her arm, her tail stroking her wrist comfortingly but the change of tension in the room was unavoidable.

"It happened when you were a child. They knew you were to be the Stormkeeper so they locked it away. As a Bindsmith I locked your grimoire away."

The clawing anxiety at her throat expelled in the breath she was holding, her heart thumping loudly in her ears despite hearing the dragon's words loud and clear. Quilla's sad expression soured her attempt to keep composure as if all her years of dealing with her unstable grimoire was because of one dragon with all the power.

The very dragon who just so happened to rule over every Silverwing in Nocturus. The one dragon who was her partner's mother. Nivara wanted to shout, scream, cry like she did when she was a child but the reminder of who Quilla was not to her but to the emerald she-dragon in her lap doing everything she could to keep her grounded. Only Kaldra mattered.

"Was it the Taishin?" Kaldra spoke up, her head peeking above the sleeves of her cloak.

Quilla shook her head nervously, still wary of the Stormkeeper's earlier reaction to Reina's confrontation but Nivara was still trying to keep calm, her brain mulling over all the people she had looked up to and hoped to provide answers. The Mist Maiden's only gave her vague scriptures and faded journal entries, Anirri vague recollections and endless riddles just sent her in circles. She expected delays. She expected avoidances. She never expected answers.

"Not at first, no. Others came for you. They wanted to use you in their war but when the decision came to let you stay with your family or forget where you came from..."

Quilla's voice got quieter and quieter at the sight of Nivara's suppressed anger, barely able to keep her gaze despite no hood or mask covering her partially scarred eyelids. Even Tuskarr shrank away from her, the Havalog chieftain jolting away like a bug had stung him as if he could visibly see the waves of frustration rippling around her.

"You locked my grimoire away, is that it?" Nivara's voice was unnaturally hard, like a commander interrogating a disobedient soldier who had tried to lie to her twice before.

"I did. All your memories to do with your Storm Trait were hidden away. We wanted you to live freely in Caldor but once I saw what I...what the Taishin had done to your home. I could not let you suffer anymore."

It didn't take much for Nivara to realise who and what that entailed, her anger lessening at the reminder of her mother. The hazy memory of two shadows, one large and one small attempting to dig her out of the sand as her home collapsed out from underneath her. Unnatural blue mist surrounded the area, as pillars of tangible shadow unlike anything she had ever seen tried to salvage as much of her home as she could.

"Odi. You had her look after me."

Nivara blinked, realising she had leaned forwards in her chair, her head in her hands but Kaldra still remained on her lap but had shrunk a little to make room and not lean on her by accident. The Mist Maiden immediately readjusted her posture, the bad habit of slouching when she got lost in thought making her lean back and fold her arms to make up for it and not squish her Oathed as much.

"My sister and I have never seen eye to eye on how best to utilise a Bindsmith's abilities. But we agreed on one thing. You. You needed a safe place to grow and remember gradually on your own. Away from Caldor." She admitted, her tone clearly noting some discord between her and her sibling.

Nivara's heart felt a little lighter knowing that Odi wasn't as involved as she thought, her mind drifting to the first time she felt the warm, glowing lanterns of Axis' Brinehearth festival and the gloomy exterior of the Grimmordeals transforming before her eyes even as they reached the backlit doorstep.

The looming shadows were chased away from the crack under the door, Odi carrying her on her back as another supported her from behind, gentle claws helping her down even as she exhaustedly took a step into her new home. Her dragon curled around her neck, tempering her volatile Trait long enough until she fell asleep. Until the Taishin came to take her away only a few months later.

"What about the people who kidnapped me? Who ordered the Mist Maidens to murder my family? Who would want me to forget everything I am?" Nivara snapped but her anger wasn't directed at anyone in the room but those who had claimed her country long before she had a chance to fight for it.

Quilla gave her a chance to catch her breath, recognising that her anger was based on unfairness rather than anything she had done. Despite that, her expression twisted painfully as if struggling to find the right words for all her questions. Not even her Storm Trait could fix all the damage the Taishin had caused. She had tried. Tempest had tried. But the hollow feeling in her chest would never fade.

"I would be the best person to answer that."

The Sand Wraith who had remained by the Fatekeeper's side throughout spoke up, gingerly stepping forwards almost like a child being reprimanded by his teacher. Despite his strong stance he fidgeted nervously with his claws, his Earth Trait skittering a pebble around in his palms in an attempt to calm himself.

"Quilla is right about erasing your childhood and more importantly, how your Storm Trait utilises lightning. But it wasn't her alone who was forced to make that decision. It was us, the Council of Names itself."

He clenched the pebble within his palm as if to accentuate his point, turning it to dust as it crumbled onto the stone floor and merged with the Charger Craft laced within the stone. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, not sure how to proceed as he looked to his master and only saw kindness in her expression. But before he could make his own decision a hand stopped him from elaborating, the awkwardly interrupting Ash Traited stopping him in his tracks as if predicting what he was about to say.

"No. It was my Master, Kirai Underwood who ultimately had the final word. He was the Timekeeper and the previous Night Rider. He decided that it was best to remove all recollection of your Storm Trait. Clearly, he was wrong."

Nivara's delayed reaction was cut short by a strangled hiss from an unlikely source, Tuskarr's hatred triggering the Sunspell elf that sat nearby and couldn't stop herself from looking away. Perhaps it was anger or shame that caused the globules of light to spread around the room, her hands shaking without control over her emotions and in turn her Casting. Nivara couldn't help but relate, too overwhelmed by all the information being thrown at her to properly react to it all at once.

"I know that name. My grandmother Aidari...she knew him. She fought with him, trusted him and he...he lied."

Nivara didn't know whether it was her grimoire deciding to feed her memories or whether it was her own mental capacity trying to latch on to something familiar to the topic but regardless, she couldn't help but try and recall the argument between the two. Her grandmother had helped raise her along with her parents and siblings, their unconventional Traits clashing together and attempting to rein them in by training in the lightning dampening sands of Caldor. They didn't have many visitors in the Snake Pits so when they did, Nivara and her youngest brother Fenn couldn't help but snoop.

The sharp undertone of hushed yelling was the first thing that made her flinch from her hiding space at the gap between rooms. Everything was under one floor but with the haphazard layout of the room there were a few blind spots to hide in where the densely packed sand couldn't hide from the open planned area. Fenn clung to her sleeve, sleepily holding his big sister's hand as they crept below the threshold of the nearby hallway.

Nivara struggled to see the full exchange, her grandmother's signature periwinkle blue cloak blocking the majority of her view even on her tiptoes. Fenn hugged his sister's leg as her grandmother continued to raise her voice, the person shrouded in the gloom of the doorway daring to take a single step inside without her permission. He nudged another person forwards, a few head's taller than Nivara herself but half the size of their guardian. They were concealed by the bundle of cloth they had around themselves to protect from the desert heat and changing cold air.

Nivara's grandmother went silent just as the bundled up person dared to take a step forward and the stranger unravelled their hood long enough for their eyes to meet. Nivara turned away and hid behind a wall, half dragging Fenn with her and hiding him against her chest. Her heart pounded outside of her chest, her hand clamped over her mouth to stop herself from throwing up at the sight of what had been done to that poor girl.

They were much older than Nivara was but not yet an adult, her expression permanently stuck in an apathetic expression while the rest of her remained a kaleidoscope of other people's pain. Like a craftsman taking a knife to a block of wood and expecting a masterpiece first try, the wounds inflicted on her looked fresh but still somehow old.

Like a young tree gnarled by harsh weather that never had a chance to take root no matter how long it had been since its plantation. But the most important thing, if it could even be considered an afterthought, wasn't the flickering lantern at the strangers side or the candle burning brightly within it. It was that the night seemed to come alive around them. They weren't just Shadow Traited. They were something else entirely.

"As we knew her. She was a proud Stormkeeper, stubborn and strong until the end."

Nivara blinked, her eyes brimming with tears as she was pulled out of the dream-like memory, her knees drawn up towards her chest as she buried her head against them regardless of the company she was in. Kaldra had resorted to curling around her shoulders and neck, watching intently as Quilla artfully changed the subject to avoid the dreaded Timekeeper topic.

"A true Guardian."

The normally outspoken Tinker Mole had removed himself from the golden dragon's side, Sashio deciding to remain by her Agar who had sat nearest the Sand Wraith and Havalog as if keeping an eye on them both. Gizmo's genuine sincerity surprised her into silence as she tried to recognise the term and the Tinker Mole's stance on things.

Nivara struggled to grasp what she saw in such an old memory, her head hurting with the overlapping blur of shapes and colours, Gizmo busying himself by fiddling with a spare piece of wire he fished out of his pocket. Anirri tried to comfort her the only way she could, the Forger Craft she wielded imbued with the hewn wood in the staff as the core peeking out between the cracks began to glow amber.

The small piece of wire Gizmo was holding began to glow alongside it, the Craft let off a calm, warm and inviting scent that reminded her of the desert and allowed her to breathe it in slowly to steady herself. Her mind was blank, no fuzzy images of her as a child. Nothing. It was like treading water without moving anywhere, endlessly swimming tirelessly until her stamina both physically and mentally waned out.

Listening to Kaldra speak so comfortably to the other Traited settled her chest from a tightening vice to a slightly squeezing stress ball of growing and lessening worry that allowed her to sit upright once more albeit a bit more slouched than before. Kaldra remained steadfast on her shoulder, the glint of Nivara's own burned reflection startling her after so many years hidden away, forced to heal within the confines of the mask sitting idly in front of her.

"Do you know why the last Night Rider did what he did?"

Nivara hadn't realised the question had been asked. Kaldra's tone was far calmer than it ever was, still protectively perched on her shoulder but far more engaged in the conversation than Nivara ever could. Her tail brushed against her comfortingly, trying not to overwhelm her and giving her space while trying to find out the answers she had so desperately wanted but couldn't ask for personally.

Closing her eyes at the young teens' memory merging to the forefront, her scar burning with recognition but she fought the urge to grab at her wound. Nivara longed to reach her mask to help ease the pain thanks to the it's frost numbing qualities but her outright stubbornness to remain without it in support of Kaldra's choices outweighed the need for alleviation.

"Not entirely. But I know Kirai would've done anything to keep those he cared about safe." Kalaris explained, shaking her head, but clearly aware that all the dragons present could detect lies but not if the Ash Traited didn't say anything concrete.

Despite the woman's subdued expression and natural ability to avert conversations there was no denying the subtle look in her eyes, the look of suppressed pride and adoration that couldn't be wiped away no matter how many callous deeds the other did. It wasn't the look of a lover or a parent or child.

It was the look Nivara had given the High Priestess once before given her first mission as a Mist Maiden. Before everything shattered. It was the relationship between master and apprentice. The thought of everything Kalaris had said in confidence was tainted by a derisive scoff from Sybil, saying more than any rush of Neridian sign ever could.

The Talonslash gave the Ash Traited a small smile of apology but Nivara couldn't help but agree with the Sunspell elf. She almost rolled her eyes at her in reply to show her support before being starkly reminded that they could still see her face before blushing profusely and her thoughts getting far more somber. Clearly a backwater Traited from Caldor wasn't worth caring about to the Timekeeper.

"But Kirai lied. I remember them arguing. I got her grimoire instead of...someone else. She wanted it out of the family but-"

Her rambling was cut off by a scraping chair, the secluded Singfall siren shoving her chair back into the packed earthen wall as far as it would go as wood met grains of stone. Reina drew the attention of the room with a single sound, her frustrations clear without uttering a word. Nivara's eyes went wide, her hands were over her mouth long before she even realised it. Trembling, their eyes locked and the Singfall siren gave one, stoic nod and her stomach lurched.

That stark hostility between her and Reina clicked something together in her brain that wasn't there before. It was like sliding a missing building block into the forefront, the Sand Wraith's sudden admission into Kalaris' immediate interruption coiling within the pit of her stomach until finally all the motivations for everyone present made irritating sense. They all knew. They already knew, kept her in the dark and said nothing. For years on end. Just like Kalaris, the siren did not audibly confirm it.

Nivara closed her eyes in frustration, her expression tightened in pain and anguish. There was no use hiding how she felt, refocusing the memory of her childhood with pinpoint accuracy like diving underwater and having her eyes adjusting to the change. Her grandmother had argued with Kirai over refusing to give the Stormkeeper grimoire to a Singfall siren, his biases being shoved forwards just as he had done to his own reluctant apprentice.

Aidari had vouched for Reina. Kirai had gone against her wishes and by meeting with her had uncovered her location to the Taishin all for a petty disagreement of succession. Now the Council of Names, the ones who had lauded over the fates of the Keepers of Trait and Reina: the true successor to all of the power that had plagued her for years remained bitter and hateful not to the man who made that decision but to Nivara herself. They knew who she was all along. They knew all the answers she wanted. But they wanted something in exchange. People always did.

"You mentioned 'others' before the Taishin. Who were they?" Nivara demanded through gritted teeth, her brain whirring after all the revelations a single nod had given her.

Quilla was taken aback, stuttering as she tried to form the words but it was clear she was trying to take a leaf out of Kalaris' book. Nivara's eyes narrowed in annoyance, no longer caring if anyone else saw her frustrated about them avoiding to give her the answers she wanted.

Her scales along the base of her neck seemed to lock together in a silver chain, Quilla's eyes pleading with Nivara's without a word. Kaldra's tail nudged her towards her mother, drawing attention towards the strange curse befalling her.

"It's alright, Quilla. Don't trouble yourself."

The Sand Wraith took over for the flailing dragon, Quilla darted about to try and ask for some aid but her jaw locked in place failing to move or answer anyone. Nivara could feel her partner's anxiety, quivering a little on her shoulder and her eyes were full of recognition. Whatever was happening to Quilla she had seen it before.

"I'm sorry, Nivara. Bindsmith's are forbidden from speaking about their work from time to time. Trait contracts, and all that." Hack said, easily diverting things away from such topics.

"No, mother...you don't mean, a Lockbind?"

Kaldra's voice was barely a whisper, a jerky nod from her mother confirming what she already knew was true. Nivara didn't even need to blink as Kaldra effortlessly bounded onto the table in one swift movement and curled herself around her mother with all the support she had left in her small frame.

Odi had mentioned the Lockbind once or twice before, Nivara barely able to remember the conversation but distinctly remembering it to do with work problems and the towering bookshelves that held old, potential shells of so much Bindsmith's effort to keep the Lockbind controlled.

All Nivara could think of was her guardian complaining about how restricting and worrying the entire thing was since a single word could spell disaster for so many Traited and dragons as a whole. Her stomach lurched at the thought of Anirri's seeing visions but restricting herself to tell them and her grandmother Aidari's controlled frustrations even as they discussed things that could ultimately kill them in the heat of anger.

Maybe that was why Kirai was so adamant to get the previous Stormkeeper to listen, why Kalaris and Reina had learned to hold back with the things they shared and why all of these answers Nivara had been searching for so long had been...locked away. The problem was that even explaining that to other Keepers of Trait like Creed would be so treacherous considering how little they knew about the situation and most importantly, what to say in response to avoid triggering the Lockbind.

Nivara had been lost in the dark and with the Timekeeper's meddling who knew how many before her that Kirai had done this to. The weight of such a simple thought almost crushed her, shattering her anger into hollow emptiness that echoed out into every member of the Council of Names that had participated knowing that any information shared could mean their life could be forfeit. But they were here, right in front of her. Despite the risk, so was she.

"Then, Anirri can you tell me anything without breaking the Lockbind? You are the Fatekeeper. Regardless of what you see, you know how to at least avoid the pitfalls. At least, better than Kaldra or I."

The seconds passed like hours as Anirri nodded slowly, the Sand Wraith grinning in response and without a word, flicked his claw up and the solid floor had a distinct layer of soil scattered along in a circle around Anirri's feet. Her claws brushed against the familiar earth, her staff dimming in response to the grounding power of his Trait and the Fatekeeper began her ritual.

Far simpler than Nivara ever expected, the Tinker Mole in the corner of the room opposite the still mift Singfall siren began to draw distinct lines in the dirt with her staff. One by one the lines began to branch off and Anirri began slowly crossing out any she didn't think was worth pursuing.

No one spoke. No one dared to look away until Anirri made one definitive circle beneath the thirteenth branch of her future telling Forger Craft before Hack had the entire thing cleared once again. Anirri looked a little worse for wear, jolting away from her staff like being stung by static electricity but rubbing her claws together betrayed an expression Nivara saw many times before. The Fatekeeper was afraid. She was afraid of her own Craft.

"Traited are forced to forget but dragons remember. Dragons remember it but cannot speak it. Traited can recall it but cannot remember it. I alone can speak it but I cannot repeat it. That is the nature of the Lockbind."

Much like Nivara herself, the Ash Traited, Reina and the majority of the Havalogs refused to move or to write anything down even as Kaldra suggested otherwise. Anirri had helped in getting her into this meeting in the first place. Besides, if her time with the Mist Maiden's had taught her anything, reciting scriptures was no different to remembering the very vision Anirri had tried so hard to decipher for her.

The muttering and moving around caught Nivara's eye as a jittery Ravenback Tinker Mole handed a brief set of notes to the Captain of the Guard. Calvaros glanced over it sternly to check for any mistakes before handing it back and mentioned 'adding it to the Archives.'

The room was a hive of activity as the Ravenlord whispered to a sandy furred Tinker Mole before he rushed away with a stack of parchment in his claws just as the Caithsee left in a trail of shadows to follow suit. Nivara could just about follow the back and forth of scribes and couriers but Kaldra looked to her Oathed for direction in case she too needed to take note of the Fatekeeper's new vision.

"Neither of them were wrong in their approach, Stormkeeper. Had regret and loss not been a factor in either choice Kirai made then perhaps things would've changed for the better. Alas, grief comes to us all. Especially those who bear the same fate as him." Anirri finished, addressing only the person who had asked for the vision in the first place.

Sybil winced, visibly cringing as she rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly, a small group of the council remained in their seats either out of stubbornness or respectfulness for the now exhausted Anirri. Her resident Sand Wraith guard took a seat next to her. The stone slab he had conjured slid into place, his short bow making Nivara smile as he gently moved her staff to her other side.

Anirri continued to grip it tight, his claws brushing against hers to try and get her to let it go. The Tinker Mole was still shaking even after the Forger Craft left her system, reaching for Hack as soon as she could even as his scales turned scarlet and she leaned against him. Damn those two were cute. Cute but entirely oblivious.

"I understand. Thank you, Fatekeeper."

Nivara gave herself a few moments to assess the situation, chewing at her lip as she thought of the numerous ways to word so many theories she had in mind. Much like she would when she was alone and trying to study, Nivara's mind wandered as she tried to piece together the puzzle of Anirri's visions.

Traited. Dragons. Tinker Moles.

All had varying degrees of memory intake. Traited had short term memory. Dragons had long term memory. Anirri herself had variations of both. But all of them had to keep it to themselves while somehow working together to decipher what they knew without triggering a potential Eternal Death. The likelihood of that with such a large risk as the Lockbind was...impossible. But there was something that niggled at her brain. Something she needed to check first.

"If I may clarify a few things with you before moving on, Raven Lord. Considering your earlier comment about wasting my Trait." Nivara asked, keeping her voice even but firm despite the apparent risk and topic of conversation.

"Oh? I thought you understood the Fatekeeper's vision."

"I do. But what I don't understand is your outlook on things."

Calvaros' sharp intake of breath noted her attention to the small tomahawk at his side, concealed by his cloak that Sashio and Quilla growled quietly at. Rayner blinked, his expression reminding her of a child that had been caught eating dessert before dinner despite his mask hiding a lot of his face. Nivara smiled evenly, her time reading people regardless of how they hid from her. His eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"How so?"

Rayner's even voice betrayed his inability to meet her gaze, distracted by the courier's return from where he was sent off the Archives. The Tinker Mole was flustered but exhausted, too wary to interrupt even as he stood by to attention and assessed the Council of Names.

Instead the elf's gaze focused on Nivara's mask sitting on the table, the importance of it paling under the harsh gaze of every Tinker Mole from Ravenback to the Gadgeteers Guild clustered about in the entrances. Either they glared at the accused or looked for guidance from their leader but received none.

"Whoever Kirai was to all of you, it was enough to trust him to make a decision without your full imput. Ultimately, it was Quilla and my mother Odi, who decided he was wrong and tried to fix it. So, what did you do about it, Rayner?"

The only sounds Nivara could focus on was the quiet swishing of Kaldra's tail, the nervous clicking of the Tinker Mole's claws and the fizzing popping of the Ash Traited turning the ground beneath her into embers of nervous energy. Rayner still refused to catch her eye.

"It wasn't my decision alone..."

Nivara had to stifle a sigh at the weak response, hoping he had the same fight he had in all the other attempts to rile her up. She liked discussing alternative opinions or strategies, heck even Calvaros had more of a debating backbone back when the Noirr the stupid heir to the Raven Lord barged into her campsite. But if he was going to lie at least make it convincing.

"But you're the Raven Lord. The Tinker Mole's all listen to you. Calvaros listens to you. Anirri listens to you. Heck, Gizmo at least acknowledges your standing. Yet you're telling me that not only did you either not know what Kirai intended to do but you and all of the territory you watch over decided to do nothing?"

Nivara knew why she had chosen to become the Tempest of Caldor. In some ways, she could relate to Kirai's difficult choice. His was based on grief and regret but unlike his hers grief was tinged with revenge. But now her source for revenge was gone and all the Water Traited she could've passed her grimoire on to had either risked moving to another country or had long passed away. Water was hard to come in the deserts but even more so if everyone who tried was indoctorated or hunted down.

"You were right, in a way. I could've done so much more with my Trait. Had I known. I could've saved countless more people, given rain to drought ridden lands, solved so many problems both political and Trait related. But my grandmother was right too. Whatever Kirai wanted to erase, my grandmother Aidari didn't want it to happen to me. But it did."

Rayner's logic was correct but only if she had been given the same information and opportunity about her Storm Trait that he as the Raven Lord did. He knew that. She hadn't known what was taken from her, why and what the outcome was regardless of how many clans were after her power. That was the difference. It didn't matter if she had inherited the Stormkeeper's grimoire or not. It didn't matter whether Aidari argued or disagreed. Kirai took away her ability to learn what she could do. He took away her choice.

"The Fatekeeper tried-"

"Anirri's Forger Craft sees everything and considering what half of you just did the moment the Fatekeeper's vision came to pass here and now I don't believe for one moment you did nothing. You wrote it down. You warily conferred with those present and if I'm right it was that vision that caused the dragon's to act."

The weight of her words caught in her throat. Her hands were still shaking beneath her cloak. Without her mask she was vulnerable. Without Kaldra beside her, even more so. But even as her voice cracked her dragon stared at her with all the courage she lacked and reminded her of her own decisions. For the first time since her childhood she had a choice. She had been told the risks of knowing. She had lived through the outcome of remaining ignorant. She had faith in her words. She would not die here.

"It's that very vision...that part of the Lockbind is based on in the first place."