Ashem's sudden, sharp intake of breath did not go unnoticed. Leo immediately turned to Mordo, putting on a calm façade he did not feel.
"There's no danger," he said, his voice steady. "But this is… a private matter we need to handle." He gestured towards the door. "The market is just across from this building. You should go on ahead and find the Crystal Exarch. We'll be right behind you." He quickly added, "Oh, and if anyone asks where you're from, just say you're with the Exarch. Most people here don't know about other worlds."
Mordo nodded, his eyes scanning the room one last time. He could sense no threat, only a strange tension from his two companions. "Very well," he said, not one to pry. "I will see you there." With a final, curious glance, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
The moment he was gone, Leo winced, rubbing his temples as a fresh wave of memories—Ashem's memories—flooded his mind, synchronizing with his own. He now knew exactly who their spectral visitor was.
Seeing that they were alone, the mysterious man took a hesitant step forward, his form shimmering like a heat haze. He looked at Ashem, his eyes filled with a century of desperate, aching hope. "Warrior of Light from the Source," he asked, his voice a ghostly whisper. "Can you… can you truly see me?"
Ashem stared at him, her own expression a complex mixture of shock and pity. "You are… the Warrior of Darkness," she said, the words heavy with history.
"And," Leo added, his own mind reeling, "you're the narrator, aren't you?"
"What!" The man—the Warrior of Darkness—staggered back as if struck, his form flickering violently. "You can hear my voice? You can see me?!" He ran a translucent hand through his hair, his agitation palpable. "Then… the other times… it wasn't just my imagination? You could perceive me all along?"
His brief flare of shock collapsed into a deep, hollow sorrow. "That's right," he murmured to himself. "When I went to the Source… that is what I called myself." He looked up, meeting their gaze, and introduced himself properly. "My name is Ardbert. And I… I was once the Warrior of Light of the First."
"Warrior of Light?" Leo asked, glancing at Ashem.
Ardbert's head bowed in shame. "Perhaps you already know," he said quietly. "My companions and I… we are the ones who caused the Flood of Light." He told them the story, his voice thick with the grief of a memory a century old. He spoke of a world on the brink, of a white-robed Ascian who offered them a devil's bargain: trigger a calamity on the Source, and in the resulting rejoining, a piece of their world, the First, would be preserved.
"We knew it would mean the deaths of countless innocents on your world," Ardbert confessed, his voice cracking. "But we were desperate. We chose to cooperate." He sighed. "The rest, you know. We fought you. And we lost."
"But Hydaelyn took pity on us. She sent Minfilia here, to the First, to hold back the Flood. Our souls… we were allowed to return with her. We arrived just as the last bastion of our world, Norvrandt, was about to be completely consumed. To stop it, to save what little was left, Minfilia and my friends gave everything. They used the last of their power and… faded away." His voice dropped to a whisper. "All of them. Except for me."
Ashem couldn't help but feel a pang of deep sadness for the tragic hero before them.
"What year is it?" Ardbert asked, looking up. "How long has it been since the Flood?"
Leo's own heart felt heavy. "It's been a hundred years," he said softly.
"...A hundred." The number seemed to crush Ardbert. "Has it really been so long?" He turned and walked toward a nearby dining table, reaching out to grab a bottle of wine as if to steady himself. His hand passed right through it.
He looked at his own translucent fingers with an expression of weary resignation. "Of course," he murmured. "It seems you two really are special. I can't touch anything. No one else can see me or hear my voice." He let out a hollow, bitter laugh. "I'm a ghost… no, not even that. A ghost has enough power to rattle a chain or two. I am just… a remnant. A lingering obsession, perhaps?"
He looked at them, his eyes filled with a profound loneliness. "I can feel the long years inside me. Time has blurred my own consciousness. Some days… I forget what my own face looks like. But on the day you two arrived, it was as if a fog lifted from my mind. Something drew me to you." He looked at Leo. "Why are you here? And who are you? Why can you both perceive me?"
"The Crystal Exarch is trying to save the First," Ashem explained gently. "He summoned us here to help."
Leo added, "And me… Ashem and I are two halves of the same soul. If she can see you, so can I."
"I see," Ardbert said, crossing his arms, a flicker of something ancient and tired in his gaze. "So even after all this time, there are still fools striving to save this world." His voice was laced with a bitter cynicism. "How foolish. This world is long past saving. Your Crystal Exarch would be better off finding a nice, quiet place to watch it end." He looked out the window at the endless, oppressive light. "Look at me. I've been wandering for so long, I've forgotten what I was even fighting for."
He turned back to them, a new, faint spark of purpose in his eyes. "But… I haven't faded yet. And you can see me. Perhaps my journey isn't over." His voice grew serious, his resolve hardening. "I need to know why. Why I alone was left behind. I need to find my end, but I cannot rest until I have an answer."
"I will be watching you," he said, turning and walking towards the door. "And a word of advice," he added, his voice low and filled with warning. "Because of me, because of the sin I committed… never call yourselves the Warriors of Light. In this world, there is no place for heroes."
With that, his form began to dissipate, fading into nothingness as he passed through the solid wood of the door, his final words hanging in the air like a curse.
After a long silence, Ashem spoke, her voice heavy. "They tried so hard to save their world," she said. "They lost everything. How could it still end like this?"
"Maybe," Leo sighed, "that's just how reality is sometimes." He saw the profound sadness on her face and tried to lighten the suffocating mood. "Well," he said with a weak smile, "I guess this means we're officially being haunted. By the world-destroying evil ghost, no less."
Ashem just rolled her eyes, but a hint of her usual fire returned. "In a sense, you're not wrong," she conceded. "Come on. Let's go find the Exarch."