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Veiled Tithes Robes
Mithrax had come to Ikora's office with a gift and a question. The gift was a large glass jar of preserved leechlike creatures, oily and glistening. They were perhaps the most delicious thing Ikora had tasted in the last 20 years. And while the two of them worked their way through the jar, Mithrax uncomfortably stumbled his way to his question. "Eris Morn has changed," he said carefully, and Ikora nodded. "She chose to change, and she acted out of… is there a Human word for 'love-bravery'?" Ikora smiled. "Love," she said. "Love, then," Mithrax nodded. "If she were to change forever, if she cannot return to herself, will she be remembered well? Since her first choice was made from love?" Ikora responded as though she had not struggled with the thought a thousand times already. "Eris will always be Eris, no matter what form she takes," she said. Mithrax harrumphed in satisfaction and leaned forward to take another leech. "Yes. I am always impressed with the resilience of the Guardians, with or without their Light. Saint tells me the Titan Sloane embraced the Taken, and she is doing well." "Yes, and for that, I am grateful," Ikora said. "But… they don't always come back, Mithrax. An old friend of mine was corrupted by the Vex in a similar way. He stayed behind when the Pyramids attacked, just like Sloane. But I believe we lost him." "I am sorry about your friend," Mithrax said somberly. "I hope he is remembered as a hero." Ikora raised her eyebrows but said nothing. "I, too, encountered a great mind consumed by the Vex," Mithrax continued. "The Guardian and I attempted a rescue, but it went deeper into the network as it gained the access it sought. It taught me that the pursuit of truth is worth any price—even one's own sense of self." Ikora smiled. "Asher would have agreed with every word of that." Mithrax leaned forward in amazement, a leech dangling limply from his claws. "You knew Ashermere?" Ikora cocked her head. "Yes, Asher Mir. How on earth did you know him?" "Asher… Mir," Mithrax said slowly to himself, mimicking Ikora. "That is why I have been unable to locate any records." "Ikora," he said, straightening himself in his seat, "I must tell you a story about our friend, Asher Mir, the hero."
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