Epilogue

Night fell.

The skies had given way to the day as twinkling stars appeared against the pristine black one dot at a time. Darkness crept over the lands as the hours drew closer to midnight, though the streets of the labyrinth city remained untouched.

Like a lighthouse against the shore, Orario stood with its hallowed glow, lighting the way home both above abd below.

Worries and hardships melted away under half-emptied tankards and chatter, some dancing, some laughing, all under the warm light of the magic stone lamps that ushered in the new age. All over the city was a chorus of those whose nights had just started, whose nights were coming to a close, and those who had no night to speak of. Rivira, all the way underneath the mighty city toiled away at an asynchronous pace to the world above. Rogues, thieves, no goods, and virtuous men and women alike worked without tiring to rebuild their foothold into the unknown. It was a service, or so their fearless leader used to say, but it was more for the things they could get away with that the spirit of the town survived through the trying times.

Up above in the town's highest point was an earnest wish, and just as sincere were countless others shining in their own little corners in the city. Those who wished to be stronger, richer, better, more; some who yearned to reach greatness, some who wanted to be heroes, and one other, who just wanted to go home.

Wishes and dreams burned bright against the void that stretched near endlessly beneath them—though there were wishes too, even so deep. An earnest, ancient, and chthonic wish promised a burning sky and the earth asunder for a thousand generations and forever. It sung to the stones and lulled with its promises, each catch like insignificant inch after inch on a journey of a million miles. A single stone did not make a castle, but enough could build a wall and more.

Enough was all it needed.

A solemn prayer kept the coals subdued but against the winds of change it could only do so much. The hands of fate were coming to a crux, the tune and rhythm ever so slowly churning into an unknown chord.

#

Loki felt the last conscious breath leave his lips as he finally drifted to sleep.

A sigh escaped hers as she slunk into her cool bed. The last few days before were the worst, the nights lasting long until the crack of dawn in frustration with Thomas none the better. He was impatient and headstrong and too stubborn for his own good despite the pliable image he prided himself in. And loath as she was to admit it, she understood all too well what it was like to be consumed with that burning need—just as another of hers yearned so strongly for vengeance. Too close, he came to the essence of that girl's desires.

A nice glass or a bottle of wine would've been great right now, she thought.

Her children were so young and impressionable and impatient and stupid, and it reminded her so much of her own folly. Loki dragged her hand down her face, her fingers catching on her lips as it passed. It was a long day alright, but at least that was one check off her to do list: call Thomas out. It was only a matter of time, she knew when she first saw him. She just didn't expect it to turn out the way it did.

She'd prepared for a mountain and got a molehill, though his growth remained something unprecedented. His ranking up was a surprise both good and bad, like a raw gem faceted without its edges ground out. He was her answered prayer, the super rookie she'd always wanted—granted Tom sort of displayed the same levelled understanding as her little hero at times, but he was still so immature and full of doubts.

Which lent to some of the hesitation she was biting back now. Loki splayed herself against her soft mattress and gazed up into the curtains enclosing it. A bit of light was spilling in from Orario's streets despite how high up her room was on their towers.

Could he really find his way home? How far would Thomas's bullshit of a status take him? Was what she saw as a sign of progress actually a foot in the grave? She prided herself in seeing through her children, but he was too tainted in the ways of subtlety and his desires too branched—too difficult to read, and just as frustrating.

Though, the hardships had a charm on their own.

If the rest of her familia were a bunch of toddlers so pure and simple, then her Thomas was an idiotic teenager whose only real merit—for now—was how much trouble she gave her.

Loki turned to her side and fluffed her pillows. Perhaps tomorrow would be kinder.

#

A flash of silver met the column of black, and the giant dagger shattered like a mirror against that desperate blow.

Jagged shards rained down on the doll-like girl dashing towards the titanic skeleton king, the bits and pieces catching on her skin and opening wounds with their passing. Blood trailed behind her, blown into a fine mist by the wind she cloaked herself in. Her sword wove streaks of light into her wake, and where she went was left the countless broken bodies of the skeleton warriors she vanquished.

Finn took it all in: her fears, her doubts, her worries, and her rage. She'd called it a black flame before, that thing that drove her faster and further than anyone else before. It didn't scare him then, but after seeing the things he's had now…

Thomas ignited that flame in her—in him.

It was that simplicity, that wretched, frantic, all-consuming desire that drove the boy—because he was no man—into the depths. He'd heard the stories he'd told Gareth, and from just that Finn already knew Thomas was not one for adventure. And yet here he was, treading that path harder than anyone else.

He'd grown on him too, so much so that that stupidity had tinted his old bones the slightest bit. And like that first breath of mountain air, Finn saw the conclusion he should've reached all those years ago: that responsibility was ultimately his to take on himself. The heir he wanted to leave behind was nothing but a sham he was hiding behind to escape that which had called for him from the very start.

Udaeus's arm shattered from the shoulder, broken in pieces when that silver rapier pierced the glowing orb.

The battle was coming to a close, the struggle between the valiant princess and the tyrannical king approaching its climax. Udaeus wielded the shard left behind with a fervor, the strikes coming faster and faster as the light in his eyes dimmed with each passing moment. Hail to the warrior king, his blows offered in prayer, but the princess's ode was stronger, faster, and much heavier than her shoulders had any right to bear.

A fight ended when the other could no longer get up, but a trial like this was one that must be seen through to the end. Aiz had gone on her adventure, and Finn was here as her witness. He and the others were but spectators in this solemn vow of vengeance.

Finn just hoped it wouldn't be the last chapter of her story.

#

Sunlight peaked through her thin covers, the warmth waking her to the dream.

Lili got off her bed and folded her sheets, made her pillow, and took her little wooden basin of toiletries to the common baths. Her days had only recently started this way, the habit forced onto her by new goddess.

Her shower was quick and cold, the sting of it a reminder of the life she'd left behind. It was too much, to be told that this was her life now. Too many times she'd wanted nothing more than for it to end, only for paradise to tease her time and again. And then it happened. Finn. The self-proclaimed hero from some backwater town. The same man who dreamed better for everyone.

The same man who dared take her under his wing.

Water trailed down her soft hair, the tangles and twists in it quashed by the efforts of Tiona and Riveria and their too expensive luxuries. Lili wiped her body down with a wash cloth that costed more than the ratty robes she used to wear. And her soap would've paid for ten meals spread out over a few days had she been frugal enough.

It was too much.

It was so much to hold onto the coins she herself earned now.

It was so much more to no longer be that weak Lili who could only grit her teeth and pray it would end sooner than later.

And all it took was the whims of a man too grand to notice the pebbles by his feet—all because of some idiot who was too blind to care for his own needs. Was it gratitude that she felt for him? Anger, perhaps… he was the one who insulted her way of life and undid all her convictions. And yet it was also he who'd taken the weak Lili and removed her from the Lili who looked back in the mirror now.

That Lili's eyes were firmer. Surer. Her limbs were beginning to put on some meat. Her ribs barely visible now. The lumps of meat were still there, the only point of pride she'd had in that previous life.

She pinched her cheeks as she brushed her teeth, half out of habit to het herself used to smiling, half to maybe dispel the cruel dream. Her nose was clear of the blackheads and pimples that used to dot her skin, and two gold studs stared back at her from her ears.

Lili touched the hand in the reflection.

She didn't know what to call this person standing before her… but for now, she felt she could start… with me.

#

The morning came along the wind, the cool breeze bringing with it the scent of fresh baked bread and firewood.

I tore myself away from the bliss of sleep, my blanket gliding along my shins as the plush fleece, soft and warm, gave way to the crisp air when I stood up onto the carpeted floor. I spread my toes into the rich fibers, I stretched my arms wide and rolled my shoulders. My joints cracked with the motions, and the sleep was slowly driven out of my bones.

My lids hid a small heat and a bit of dryness, and a yawn drifted out from closed hands.

The morning was a good one, like the first good sleep in after a long drawn out project. Maybe it was just me getting used to the bed, maybe it was the new blanket I bought yesterday, whatever it was, I was sure the four new pillows I had contributed to that. They stood watch about the fort, guarding the realm of good rest.

A quick shower and some clothes later, I went on my way down for breakfast.

Mornings in the mansion were a quiet affair, the calm din broken only by the occasional opening door and greeting hello. I passed the first flight of stairs and saw Lili covered up with a towel with her hair wrapped in another. Our eyes met. The beginnings of a flush colored her cheeks, but she simply waved, so I returned it in kind and she went on her way.

I reached the ground floor and was welcomed by the clinking of forks, spoons, and knives against stoneware plates and bowls and chatter by the dining hall. Gareth nodded in greeting, and I nodded back with a small smile.

Things weren't perfect, no. But, it would get better in time.

I entered the dining hall.

All eyes went to me.

A pair of ruby red ones staring their hardest.

"Hey everyone," I said. "Uhh, how's the food?" I scratched my cheek.

Loki narrowed her eyes at me. Then walked over with slow and measured steps.

She grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me around. "You… don't have your weapons with you?"

"Huh, now that you mention it…" I looked back. They really weren't there. I wasn't wearing Gareth's jacket or his vambraces and greaves either. "Eh, I'll just get them later."

Loki slid her hand onto the crook of my elbow. "Breakfast?"

It wasn't perfect. But, we were all trying.

"That sounds lovely, Loki."