Caleb's skin is boiling, his teeth clenched so tightly he worries they will shatter, his every muscle tense and hot and aching like nothing he's ever felt before, like flames burning him from the inside out, and he finally gives in and screams-

And then, quick as a snap of his fingers, the pain is gone. He's submerged in cool water, gently floating upwards. He is surprised to find that his lungs feel no need for air, and when he opens his eyes, all he sees is darkness around him, just vague shadows moving in the distance.

So this is death, he thinks. Well, it's not bad. A great exhaustion overtakes his body, and he starts to let his limbs relax, his eyes fall closed, everything drifting with the current.

"Hey. Dummy."

Something is splashing through the water above him. Caleb almost doesn't want to listen, but then he feels a hand on his face, and he's rising upwards, towards the surface of the water. Caleb opens his eyes and finds himself seated, dripping wet, at an empty bar.

"Over here."

Molly is lounging on a barstool a few seats away from him, elbow propped on the bar, draped in a silver robe not unlike the tapestry he'd once wrapped around himself. He looks better than Caleb ever saw him in life, covered in piercings that glint with gems and shine with silver and gold, not a trace of his many scars or the wound that took his life.

"Molly." Caleb rasps, feeling like he hasn't spoken in years.

"Mr. Caleb." Molly says. He reaches out a hand, and a tankard appears in it, as if it had been there all along. Molly raises it to Caleb in a mock toast. "Fancy a drink?"

Caleb stares, and Molly sets down his tankard on the bar. "You're confused. I understand."

"What's going on?"

"You, my dear, dear friend, are dead." says Molly. His tankard had spilled slightly when he set it down, and Molly is tracing his finger through the liquid. Despite the dim light, it gives off a pearly sheen. "You killed yourself doing some of that crazy spell bullshit you love. Trying to invent a better spell to turn back time, from what I heard." He raises his finger, staring at the glinting drop of ale. "Turns out the realms don't like being altered. It spit energy back at you, and bam, gone."

Caleb pushes the dripping hair out of his face. "No, I accounted for that. I had the wards set up to catch blowback, I had all sorts of shields in place. I thought..."

Molly wipes his hand on his robe, meeting Caleb's eyes. "The whole room is a scorch mark. I guess your wards helped, though, Nott didn't get blown up, and she was only sleeping a room away."

At the mention of Nott, a lump rises in Caleb's throat. "No, she wasn't. She stayed with the others, they were going to leave for Zadash tomorrow, I made her promise."

Molly shakes his head. "No, they weren't. She snuck back in to keep an eye on you, in case..." He gestures at Caleb, seated at the bar. "Well, this."

"Scheiße." Caleb says. "She's okay? She didn't get hurt?"

Molly turns away, taking a sip of his drink. "Physically? Sure. When she finds you?"

Caleb's stomach twists. There's a long pause. "You don't look happy with me, Mr. Mollymauk."

Molly chuckles. "I don't suppose I am. I could show you what they're doing right now, if you want. Watch Nott escaping the fire, watch her screaming to wake up Jester, watch them all searching the building for you, Nott trying Message again and again, Fjord organizing them to search nearby streets-"

"Stop." Caleb says. His fists are clenched. "I knew the risks. I was careful. I thought- if I succeeded, it would be worth the risk. Even..." He wonders, briefly, what remains of his body for the others to find.

"If you succeeded." Molly says, holding his gaze. "And what is it you were trying to do again?"

Caleb looks away, staring down at his fists on the table. "We fell apart after you left." he says finally. "We needed you. Jester blamed herself, she- she didn't smile for days. Yasha left for a month. Beau got so reckless, she lost an arm trying to avenge your death. Fjord is even more distant than he was before. Nott hasn't been the same, and I...we needed you."

"No, you don't." Molly says. "Look, I'll acknowledge that, as the wonderful person I was, things were shit for a while without me. But I'm not the reason for any of this. Yasha was always looking for an exit, Jester was always on the verge of breaking, Beau was always gonna get herself hurt- you all were broken before I met you. You would still have broken, and you can still heal. You don't need me to be happy."

"You shouldn't have died." Caleb says. "You didn't deserve it. We made so many mistakes in that fight."

Molly shrugs. "It happens. You think I ever expected to grow old and die surrounded by my loving family?"

Caleb shakes his head. "No, I don't accept that. If we-"

"Look, Caleb." Molly leans forward, both elbows on the bar. "I am fine with my life and how things turned out. If I could, would I take the chance to live a few more years? Sure. But this thing you're doing, it's not worth it. You don't even know how dangerous the powers you're messing with are."

"I knew the risks." Caleb repeats.

"No, you didn't." Molly says. "Why do you think I'm here?" He pointed up at the ceiling. "The gods don't often feel the need to tell people directly to calm the fuck down, but they made an exception for you, as it turns out." He sighs. "Right now, down there, Jester's starting a ritual for you. I have it on good authority that she'll succeed, and you're not going to be up here with me much longer. But if you go back downstairs and try this shit again-"

Caleb says nothing, staring at the polished glass surface of the bar. He recognizes the reason of what Molly's saying, but the academic part of his mind is turning over what exactly went wrong, where he could improve, how he could make it work this time-

"Don't." Molly says. "Please. Don't."

"It's not all for you." says Caleb.

Molly reaches out, placing his hand over Caleb's fist, still clenched on the bar. Caleb can't feel it, but it's a nice gesture. "They don't want to come back either, Caleb. They're happy again. They've moved on. They've forgiven you."

Caleb starts trembling, clenching his teeth to keep his composure. He forces out a laugh. "No, they don't."

"They do. They told me." says Molly, and his gentle tone stings like a whip. Caleb buries his face in his hands, still shaking all over. He's always hated crying in front of other people.

Molly says nothing, just lets Caleb sit, so Caleb eventually pries his hands away from his face, wiping his nose. "I murdered them, Molly." he says. "And you- I knew things were going wrong, I should've gotten us out, I could've gotten closer, given you my potion-"

"And I could've not been such a fucking idiot and used that last Blood Maledict. And Nott could've freed the slaves to help us, or Beau could've stunned Lorenzo, or Keg could've been sure her information." Molly says. "And your parents could've been less trusting of the academy. I don't want this. Your parents don't want this. The Mighty Nein doesn't want to lose you like this. And honestly? I don't think you want this either, Caleb Widogast."

Caleb shakes his head. "I do, I gave everything-"

"What would you do if you had me back, huh?" Molly asks. "Or if you saved your parents? Do you think you'd feel any less guilty, knowing what you'd done before?"

Caleb doesn't have an answer for that, and Molly sips his drink. " I think you'd still hate yourself just as much. I don't think you'd ever be happy unless you could go back and wipe your memory of what you've done and who you've lost. And I don't think you want that anymore than you want to go blind."

Caleb wipes his nose. "You shouldn't have died." he says again. "It wasn't fair, the way it happened."

"No, I shouldn't have." says Molly. "I was pretty fucking pissed about it for a while. But you know what? Now I get to be my fabulous self forever in the afterlife. You wouldn't even believe how amazing it is out here, I haven't been bored for days."

"Right." Caleb says. He finally looks up, meeting Molly's eyes. "But we miss you."

Molly falters, looking down at his tankard. "I know. I...if I could've just said goodbye to Yasha-" He shakes his head, and takes a long swig of his drink. "And Beau. Fucking Beau. I hope she's lightened up now. And Fjord, I owed him a drink for kicking him out of his room. And Jester, and Nott, and you..." He sighs. "Believe me, if there was any way- but I'm happy with what I got."

Caleb nods, grabbing a full mug from thin air. It's his father's special recipe for tea, brewed the way he always had, with just the right mix of spices. "I'm glad I knew you." he says quietly. "For all that happened afterwards."

Molly smiles. "Hey, I'm glad I knew you, too, all of you."

"Could you tell my parents..." Caleb pauses. There's so much he wants to say, so many emotions in his head, all jumbling together in ways words were inadequate to describe. "I'm sorry." he finishes finally. "I hope they're don't worry. I did love them. Or, I do."

"Sure thing." Molly says. "And, uh, for everyone back down there, and if you ever find anyone from the carnival again, could you..."

"Of course." says Caleb. He sips his tea. Despite the rest of his body being numb, the tea is warm, just the right temperature, and more delicious than anything he's tasted in years. He thinks he could sit here forever, drinking this tea.

"Caleb!"

The voice is a distant shout, like someone speaking underwater, but it's still recognizable. Jester's calling him, from somewhere back on the Material Plane. "We're going to talk to you, so please listen, okay?" She sounds desperate.

Molly raises an eyebrow. "I think they want you back. Help them, would you? I still worry. And get yourself together, this is not how you die."

Caleb chuckles. "Do I die old in bed, surrounded by family?" The bar is already starting to feel disturbingly distant, like something he's watching through a Scrying Spell. He can hear Beau's voice talking now, about them keeping each other straight, but his eyes are still on Molly.

Molly just smiles. "Oh, I'm not about to tell you that." He raises his tankard. "To not dying of stupidity?"

"To not dying of stupidity." Caleb says, brushing his mug of tea against it.

He only manages one more sip, one more look into Molly's warm red eyes before the darkness overtakes him, and then all he can hear is Beau's voice.