Epilogue

The sun shone brightly down on Aijakar – the star's soft light playing among fields of green, touching on ribbons and garments that bore the most vibrant shades of orange and of red to forge them into her own version of blinding gold.
All around the warm morning air seemed to be alive with the chatter of birds whose excited voices danced in the quiet songs of wind and waves alike, and for once the world was truly beautiful.

Far from the Temple - down at the port - the Nomad lay patiently, awaiting her departure. On deck sailors were busy tending to the proud ship's sails, preparing for a journey that felt ordinary and yet completely new. Just another delivery, maybe an adventure, nothing much had changed. All the same, everything was different.

Doubar drew in a deep breath of air, savouring the clear scent of grass and trees and a salty breeze. The tide was slowly coming in he knew and while he did regret leaving this place behind, deep inside he also longed to be out on the open seas again. Out there was his home, out there he was alive.

Out there his brother was with her.

Next to Sinbad Maeve strode a few steps ahead of him, red hair flowing across her shoulders as she spoke softly to Dermott who puffed up his feathers contently, perched on her wrist as he was. In the sunlight crimson flared among pale brown and with it came the memory of words that were meant to guard and protect, bestowed upon the crew when a simple farewell had not been enough:

"May the fires always light your path," Chiara had said solemnly, translating what no one but the priests would have known to understand had she used the ancient tongue of their prayers, "and be a beacon even in the longest night."

Her sightless gaze had been bathed in the tender glow of flames, her fair hands raised towards the heavens as she had blessed his brother and their Lass, making it clear that they would forever be honoured guests on Aijakar.

Briefly Doubar shook his head, recalling the gratefulness in a sightless gaze, feeling like it was rather them who were indebted – to the priests and this land. But certain that the child would have corrected anyone who had given voice to such a thought, the first mate let it go.

Walking along the path that lead him ever further from the sacred building absent-mindedly he noted that he was none the wiser about the young high-priestess than he had been right at the start - this old soul wrapped in a girl's body a mystery that somehow he felt wasn't for him to unravel. But even so he had learned that she was kind and strong, her people honest. And a friendly port was always welcome.
If he knew his brother at all, the Nomad sure would see these shores again. The notion, curiously, made him happy.

"I thought they missed each other."

The doubtful murmur travelled the pleasant warm air easily and the first mate turned his head, torn from his musings. Bryn was walking to his left, her brown gaze focused on her captain and the Celt.
Furrowing his brows it took Doubar a second to figure out what the sorceress was hinting at but once he heard the distinct sound of a defeated sigh he knew.

In front, Sinbad grimaced while he straightened his back. "What's wrong with the hair?"

Maeve's reply came swift, her tone serious and unforgiving. "It looks ridiculous on you."

If the expression on his little brother's face was wounded it was quickly replaced by a smile that only those knew to recognise who had seen these two bicker before. Apparently, some things would never change and wasn't that a blessing?

"Are they always like this?" Bryn was somewhat irritated Doubar noticed, and he felt a pang of guilt knowing that in their close circle of friends she was the only one to whom the pair's behaviour was something new. He resolved there and then to tell her a few stories once the occasion presented itself: tales and adventures that even after all which had happened on the Isle of Light none of them had had the heart to tell, as long as Maeve had remained trapped in a realm so far beyond their reach.
It was about time she finally heard them.

For now though her question deserved but one possible answer:

His lips stretching in the broadest grin he had to offer the first mate slung an arm around the delicate shoulders of his friend, patting her left upper arm affectionately.

"No," he boomed, hardly able to hold back a bark of laughter, "They're worse."

For a split-second the young brunette stared at Doubar, bewildered, but then she saw in the sailor's pale blue gaze the mirth and contentment and in the wake of both she, too, began to smile.

Life on board would change. Two souls who had once been torn apart had just been reunited and if her friends' demeanour was any indication it was bound to be an interesting time – not least of all for her.

While Bryn leant into the first mate just that little bit, slowly leaving the Temple behind, she hummed thoughtfully.

Maybe she would have to add a line or two to the ancient legends in her books of magic. They certainly could do with some more details. And in the meantime she might just enjoy herself finding out how two opposing elements had managed to grow close without first strangling each other.

She couldn't help but giggle.

Fire and Water, indeed.

.

Far beyond the sunset, beyond mountains and oceans and the mists between the worlds DimDim stood at the window of a house that still was filled with warmth and hope even when the source of both was gone. Maeve was back where she belonged and even though he missed his pupil dearly the old sorcerer closed his eyes in relief.

"You were right to believe in him."

Like a forbidden whisper the voice filled the little chamber, echoed off the walls but he didn't move. DimDim had known that she would come.

"They might still not understand, but their hearts are strong." He tilted his head, just enough to catch a glimpse of the shadows on the far wall and see her emerge.

A long cloak was drawn tightly around her, the cowl barely allowing him to see her face as she stepped out of the dark to join him. Her fragile body trembled, the spell not strong enough to break the walls that though invisible always separated them.

Chiara nodded solemnly.

"The Phoenix is at ease. But," she started, white eyes seeking grey, "what about the Griffin. Shouldn't they know?"

DimDim tensed this very instant, alarm suddenly so very evident in his stance. "No," his voice allowed no argument, his mouth for once set in a grim line. "They mustn't know that it is still alive."

Sensing the young priestess watch him intently, worry and sorrow practically radiating from her essence, he continued softly.
"When the time comes, they will learn of its fate. Until then," he turned back towards the world outside, taking in the sight of a new morning, "it is better if the world forgets about the Wind One and its Keeper. Let them live in peace, just for a little while."

"Is that what you see in the future?" Chiara's lips bent in a smile, though it held a trace of sadness. To her surprise DimDim laughed softly.

"What I see or do not see isn't of importance. The Westerly is eager, let it guide them. It has not forsaken its master and with the Fires safe, the path is clearer. Everything that's needed now is trust." He hesitated for a second before he added, "And that means yours as well."

Despite herself, Chiara weighed her head in cautious amusement. "I can see now why your wife chose you among all others."

Crossing what little space still kept her form apart from the magician she moved to linger at his side, following the line of his gaze as if she, too, were able to take in all that lay before them as he breathed:

"The Elements will find their way, good child. One day, I know, they will."

The End.