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"I do not have that power, and would not give it to you if I did. You must choose how to proceed. I am only telling you how great the darkness beyond Raikoth is, and advising you of what you must do, if you truly seek to take on the role of saviour, carefully, responsibly, without making the sort of mistake that is written on the tombstones of whole peoples, as Rathlan did before you. You may either use your influence to send forth your country's armies, and open it to reprisal; or else act alone, or with such allies as may personally aid you."

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No pressure!

”I will do my best. That I swear.”

Ambrose had known the job would be difficult. Not like this. He will take all the help he can get.

He will do right by his wife and children.

”Thank you.”

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"It is unfair on you. It is unfair on Me. But it is the way of our flawed world. And this is a burden you can bear, just as everyone can, and should, carry some of the burden of the war with Evil."

"And Ambrose - thank you."

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The vision of a castle fades like a blaze of sunset, and-

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Taralda is kneeling next to him where he sprawls against the wall of the Tower. "Ambrose? Ambrose!"

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With a tired smile, he opens an eye. “What, are you worried about me?”

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"Why, no. Collapsing in a blaze of golden light is practically normal where you are concerned. What happened?"

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