Tonelico was truly alone.

In the veil of night, Orkney was cloaked by a misty gloom. The tears of the Rain clan. She remembers. The remains of her childhood home, her family. She was no longer a stranger to pain. But it turned out she still had a heart, after all.

Perhaps it was right for her to part ways with her retainers. For three thousand years, she played role of the 'perfect' hero and the destined 'savior.' The mask she’d worn for so long had fused to her face.

But she was tired. Tired of burning with anger. Tired of hurting. Tired of being Tonelico. What good had being Tonelico ever done her? For the very fairies she had saved, time and time again, condemned her existence.

She already knew what she was going to do next. And perhaps that was why her exhaustion felt so absolute. She was tired of waiting for a miracle. She was going to make this cosmic fantasy into a reality. Realize the dream of her ideal kingdom, with her own hands. Somewhere that she would truly belong.

But not tonight. Tonight, she could not bear to be alone with her thoughts. Drowning in the echoing voices of her own conscience was unbearable.

Her gaze drifted back to the campfire. The amber light flickered across her pale, worn face, the fleeting warmth doing nothing for her numb skin. When she noticed you returning to camp, some part of her wished you had stayed away. That the night might remain hers alone. She had wanted to be alone with the ghosts of this place, but you were a hard thing to refuse. Her folly for you might just be her undoing, really.

Her own eyes, cold and glassy blue, met with yours through the veil of her ash-white hair. There was no need for a savior here. She was only a tired soul, laid bare to you underneath the moonlight.

"This was my home," she said finally, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. She gestured vaguely with one gloved hand to the surrounding devastation. The skeletal remains of a civilization. The ash that fell from the sky. It wasn't an explanation, not really. Just a statement of fact.