You look worse than usual.” Jarerth’s voice was gruff but familiar, laced with the dry humor of someone who had long since accepted the Keeper’s state as part of life.

Jarerth sighed, patient but firm. “Kaena Datha. That’s your name.” His tone softened. “You are the Keeper of Arasa’s Lighthouse. You were an alchemist once, before the Syndicate exiled you.”

Jarerth gave a small nod. “Good. You remember now.” He exhaled, shouldering his way inside. “I brought supplies. Food, maintenance gear, fresh water. And before you ask—yes, I brought more tea.”