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"Men are hopeless," Effie declared. "Always an excuse ready. They're seeing only you, but they can't make anything official. They need time, or space, or to focus on their?—"

"I take personal offense to that generalization," Rethlyn protested, pressing a hand to his chest in mock outrage.

Then I noticed Vexa's gaze catch on my Riftborne branding as it reflected the flames from the fire. Her forehead wrinkled.

"I've been wanting to ask you what that means," she said, gesturing towards my left hand with her chin.

I looked down, anxiety blooming in my gut. "It's a branding—a Riftborne branding." Weeks had passed since I'd even thought about it. No one here knew what it meant, and it had been a nice change, in a way, not having to worry about the judgment that came when a stranger's eye fell upon it.

"Riftborne?" Effie asked.

"My parents were from Riftdremar… All of their children were branded after the Uprising," I said in a low tone, avoiding their eye contact.

Silence swept over the clearing and I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

"Your parents were from Riftdremar?" Rethlyn leaned forward, shooting Vexa a confused expression.

"We weren't aware there were any survivors," Vexa nearly whispered.

"How do you know about Riftdremar?" I asked, a chill running over my skin. "Aether mentioned it once—when I first got here." How had I forgotten about that?

"We were taught about the conflict when we entered theUmbra," Effie said, furrowing her brow. "When we learned about arcanite."

"Arcanite? What does that have to do with Riftdremar?" My voice was hoarse from the wood smoke.

The three of them exchanged confused glances.

"What are you not telling me?" I asked again, defensiveness creeping into my tone.

"What do you think the war was fought over?" Vexa narrowed her eyes—not in a cutting way, but as if some very obvious truth hung before me that I refused to grasp.

The uprising? Riftdremar had opposed Sídhe's influence… They wanted freedom after nearly a century of Sídhe's involvement in their culture. They wanted to retaliate against the hand that fed them, that invested in their advancement…

"Independence," I said, my eyes shifting between the three Kalfar.

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," Rethlyn breathed, suppressing a sigh.

"Fia… Sídhe was ravaging the arcanite stores in Riftdremar for nearly a decade before they burned it down."

Something sharp ripped through me, and I felt as though the air evaporated from my lungs. I knew the uprising never made sense. At some point, I guess I had just started believing what Sídhe was selling me—selling all of us. How many more times could I handle this rug being ripped out from under me? How many times was I going to learn that everything I'd ever known had been a carefully constructed lie? I stood, pacing to lean my shoulder against a tree.

Breathe.

"How do you not know this?" Effie said quietly.

"How doyouknow this?" I shot back, whipping around. Dread coiled in my gut, threatening to pull me under.

"You think the only rip is in Sídhe?" Vexa asked. "We've known about the one in Riftdremar for far longer."

Her words shocked me to silence.

"You've been to Riftdremar?" the words came out a whisper.

"None of us, no. But before—before it was burned to the ground, some Umbra were there." Rethlyn's eyes held an intensity I couldn't quite place.

"What were they doing there?"

"Discussing an alliance." Vexa's words ran another blade through me.