A/N: This is not the epilogue you were looking for, but I'm giving it to you anyway! Oh wait, what's that? A review response to be written?

Alex: No, Erlend didn't get a divorce, and no, Sigrid didn't just give birth to two pups (see Chap. 11). It was very unwise for me to leave so much information out of the story, so I managed to give more information here. I hope you understand. As for Egil, glad you like him! I wish I could have put him into the forefront sooner, but it's always nice to see that I am not doing a shoddy job.

Epilogue

Blank Points

To begin, we first must see the end! -lyrics of 'To the Edge' by Masayoshi Soken

"And in the end, I only persuaded Lord Erramun to execute the main offenders," grumbled Lamont. He didn't like nocturnal council meetings, but if King Willem willed it so, he would 'gladly' attend. "Three deaths were not enough for all the Southswarders who were sent to the bottom of the sea, and death by mere decapitation meant that they suffered too little."

"A token attempt to please us," replied the squirrelking. He was quite advanced in seasons and weight, but he had always tried to downplay that. A golden bell, the sigil of Southsward, was etched upon his silk doublet, but Lamont has always thought that Willem was not exactly fit to bear any sort of legacy.

"Erramun clings on to his sister Altarra for dear life, just like she clings on to Gudmund." King Willem spat the last word – his dislike for his southern neighbour was well-known. "Marratz should have been ours, and the mouse knows that."

"You cannot expect us to retake it without help," said General Rikart, the spines on his back bristling with every word. The hedgehog was young for a leader of beasts, but he was experienced, and had the scars to prove it. "With Erlend of Kaldos still at large in the east, a war on two fronts is simply too expensive to handle."

"Expensive?" asked Princess Jacoba. The elder of Willem's granddaughters, she was trained to rule after her father's untimely passing, but even after that she seemed unfit to govern at times. "I was told that our mines have not run dry. Kiordan and his empire is too willing to trade with us as well. We can afford everything."

"Do you remember that little episode three seasons ago?" asked Lamont.

"Repaying our debts to Redwall Abbey, yes." With each successive answer, the squirrel princess expressed that she was almost completely out of touch with matters of state.

Southsward had long forgotten about Redwall's involvement in Nagru's war, and she should have still forgotten about it. That would have saved her blood, iron and gold. It was to Redwall's relief that Southswarders had an honour-obsessed fool for a king. If it was any consolation, Lamont managed to talk Erlend into going with him, using up a bit of his money as well.

"That cost us forty thousand grossi which will never be returned to us!" shouted Lamont. "You have no idea how hard it is to transport supplies from Floret to Mossflower, let alone how much it cost. Even if we fight closer to home and have the best army in the world, it is not going to be in any way affordable."

For a second or two, Jacoba looked lost for words. "I apologise. I spoke too rashly. As seneschal of Southsward, you possess great expertise in these matters, and I should take your advice."

You'd best. "I have sworn to serve your line and the realm, Your Highness, and I am always here to provide you with counsel."

"Maybe we can move on to the next subject?" asked Daghild the mole, recorder-cum-spymaster. A rare breed with an unhealthy and obsessive personality, for Lamont the mole always smelled of something suspicious. "Lord Holmger of Helskerland is dead."

"Finally. Took the shrew long enough." King Willem seemed more enthusiastic about this piece of news than the rest of the council combined – even his grandaughter.

"The news is not to our liking, Your Majesty," Daghild said in her oily voice. "Lord Erlend would nominate some crony of his to fill off the seat. Most likely somebeast not on death's door."

"Worry not," said Rikart. "We'll have his son in a month or so, won't we? Then we can pressure him into naming any beast who should be of help to use rather than to him."

"Assuming he does care about his son, political bargaining tool or otherwise," remarked Lamont. "I doubt that is the case."

Erlend was rather famous for favouring his first marriage and its fruits. His bigamy with Lorelei Skyward was a mere trick to secure a defensive guarantee from her father, and once Kiordan passes away he would most likely cast her away across the Helsker Strait. But with that vile stratagem, Lamont's wayward brother managed to buy enough time to finish his line of castles and forts on his western border, finding a whole-new method of beggaring himself in the process.

"In any case, we should wait until your nephew arrives before we decide on something, seneschal," said Jacoba. "As the saying goes, counting woodpigeons before they hatch is folly."

"You make a good point," declared the king. "The council is adjourned."

Lamont bowed and left his seat. And nothing is done. Again. How very typical.

"Hello? Anybeast?" hollered Urza. The Dreamscape was a beautiful place which was more beautiful when she was alone, but it was also a more dangerous place if that happened to be the case.

"I'm here, I'm here, no need to fret!" Daghild's voice appeared before her body entered the void. "Sorry for the tardiness. I was at one of King Willem's night council meetings."

"Is it about the fat squirrel again?" asked Urza. "I don't think he can contribute to any discussion about the fate of his realm, much less the fate of worlds."

"As much as it is treasonous to say so, I would have to agree," Daghild nodded. "Is your charge safe?"

"You mean the otter?" Urza's ears perked up. "Yes. He's fast asleep, and unaware of everything that you have planned for him."

"Oh? Then good." Daghild chuckled. "Imagine the looks on everyone's faces when he suddenly didn't show up."

"That would be funny, yes, but I have a question to ask."

"What is it?"

"Have you grown closer to discovering the identity of the Taggerung?" asked Urza, tail twitching. "It was foretold that-"

"Yeah. They would save the world from those who do it harm. That is, Kiordan. Classic Juska fatalism. Rikart chose to believe that, so he pressed vermin like you into the Southswarder army I find it slightly more reasonable believe in the other foretellings."

"Oh?"

"The Taggerung shall be born too early to see the world bleed. The Taggerung shall be born too late to hear the world burn. The Taggerung shall see the world's destruction instead of its salvation. Every seer I've met has something different to say, which makes things all the more confusing."

"So what you're saying is this: The Taggerung's coming is not necessarily a good thing, right?"

"Yes. You can say that."

"Then let's not search for him or her," said Urza. "Until we get the prophecies sorted out."

Daghild smiled sadly, then sighed. "I think it's a bit too late for that."

After returning from Salamandastron, Graha stayed in Salamandastron for a day, then went home by the road she came, with Patrick and Emma in tow. They enjoyed Mossvale a bit too much for Graha's family's liking, but there was enough time for a touching reunion with Rak and her parents., who were quite insistent in travelling to the abbey with her. Then they reached Redwall, and there was to be much rejoicing – especially once the ordination got underway.

"Come here, Graha." Abbot Cuthbert's kind voice radiated throughout the Great Hall. The vixen did as the otter bid, and proceeded to kneel before him.

"Are ye willin' to adhere to the charter of Redwall Abbey?"

"Yes, Father Abbot." replied Graha. She had recited it for a few months now. "I shall be a Sister of peace and goodwill, and live in harmony with other beasts under the Abbey. I shall take food from the earth, and care and give in return. I shall forsake all forms of violence without cause and reason, and never take a life without a truly just cause. I shall help all those who could not help themselves in any way or form. This I swear with all my heart."

Cuthbert nodded. "What more do ye swear?"

"I swear to value no possessions above the lives and wellbeing of my fellow Abbeybeasts, and to share all I have with my brother and sisters. I swear to take no husband and bear no children-"

"Graha, wouldn't all that be a little extreme?" asked a wide-eyed Abbot Cuthbert. "Maybe ye could dial it down a little? Yore takin' it too seriously."

"I understand. I swear to always follow my conscience!"

"That's more like it! Rise, Sister Graha of Redwall Abbey!"

She stood up, and turned to the small crowd seated across her. Patrick and Emma were still in some sort of conversation, but Graha's mother was quick to turn their heads to her with quick clouts to the head. Rak and her father looked all too proud of her, and even Brother Leonard's eyes seemed to gleam at her.

She was here, she was in her new home, and after much effort she was a Sister of Redwall, the first fox to be one.

Just wait 'til Kiormund sees me in one of those green habits when he comes back!

Martin the Warrior watched as the Great Hall erupted into celebrations. Redwall Abbey now had its first fox Sister, and nobeast seemed to mind.

This was for the best. Many a Redwaller, including those in the warrior's own time, saw vermin as inferior beasts, worthy of nothing but extermination. Now, those times were ending, and Martin could say for sure that they would not be missed. Ever.

"Are you having fun?"

Martin slowly turned towards the voice. Behind him was the wolf Hirsent. They had met back when the rude otterwife paid the Abbey a visit, after Kiormund left homeward through the gates. It wasn't often that a wolf could walk through the gates of Redwall Abbey, and it was an even rarer occurrence when that could happen without anybeast realising that she was even there."

"What are you doing here?" asked the mouse.

"Watching the celebrations," replied Hirsent, adjusting her wooden staff in her paws. "First vermin to take the green. A historic milestone, and one for the annals."

"You know, you could have knocked on the door instead of barging in through one of those 'Pathways'," said the Warrior, eyes trained on the wolf. "But enough talk. Who are you?"

"You know me well enough, I think," responded the wolf. "Or was that another you? Ah, yes. Another you knows me, and you know another me."

"Then you know that I like giving riddles more than being given them all too well. 'Another me', 'another you'? You are a puzzle that's not easy to solve."

"We are all different beasts throughout our lives, changing into forms unrecognisable to our past selves. You weren't always a warrior, for one, and I... the less said, the better."

"You look young still, wolf," said Martin. "Would it surprise me to say you can travel through time? The last time somebeast said that was a few decades ago, and that was a pretty elaborate joke."

"Oh, I can," said Hirsent with a wry smile. "Everybeast can. Only forward, and very slowly."

A great cheer erupted from the Great Hall, followed by a solid round of applause and a little twitch of Hirsent's tail.

"I must depart now. I do not want to cause alarm, and I've got somebeast to talk to." With a snap of her claws, a Pathway opened, and the wolf stepped through it, with as little noise as possible.

She turned back to Martin, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I truly am. Both for what I've done, and what I'll do."

Before the mouse could ask for any form of clarification, the Pathway snapped shut.

A/N: And so ends Before Meteor. The excerpts I sent on Discord? Not here. Explanation of the awkward title? Not here. But where- who am I kidding? Of course there's more! Just you wait...