Page 192 of The Last Remaining Light

Elowynn turned her attention fully to Caelyn when they emerged on the other side, and he was blessedly back to normal—almost.

His beautiful forest-green eyes held hers with an intensity that stole her breath. The darkness had receded to faint shadows along his sclera, the black veins beneath his skin fading to pale gray as warmth returned to his bronze complexion.

“Welcome home, El,” he said.

Home. This was her home.

He was her home.

Every memory of childhood seemed to rush back at once.

Before the tears fell, someone cleared their throat, pulling her from her thoughts.

Waiting a short distance away from the gateway, near the exit tunnel, stood Sister Agatha.

She didn't look surprised, only tired. As though she had spent a very long time waiting for this moment.

Those amber eyes moved across Lora, Alyra, and Korvel before focusing briefly on Elowynn and Caelyn.

“You both look terrible,” came her weathered voice. Her eyes moved over the rest of the survivors, taking in their dirtied and bloodied state. “Actually, all of you look terrible.”

Elowynn snorted, relieved to find that some things hadn’t changed.

The other three, however, looked mildly offended.

Lora blinked at Agatha. “Well that's rude."

Agatha folded her hands inside her sleeves. "Would you prefer I lie?"

Lora glanced down at herself. Her clothes were torn, she had soot all over her face, dried blood stained one sleeve, and a layer of dust seemed permanently attached to her boots. She sucked on her teeth as she contemplated. Then she shook her head once.

“Nah, I really do look like I challenged a mountain to a fistfight before I crawled through the foundations of the world. You’re right."

Everyone laughed.

Lora pointed accusingly at them all. "Don't encourage the old crone!"

"Too late," Agatha grumbled. “And it’s Sister Crone to you, missy.”