"Lyra?" Quirin was trying to reach his feet now, and Varian braced him as he strained. "What are you doing here?"

Lyra smiled warmly, tiny wrinkles piercing the edges of her eyes. "I came to see for myself if you were finally awake." She glanced surreptitiously about the lab, at the state of disrepair the place was in. She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "This place looks dreadful, Quirin. Be a dear and let me fix it for you?" Before anyone could object, she stretched out a hand into the air and flicked her fingers without a word. Red light buzzed into view, spinning and shooting around the room, picking up pieces of rubble and old wood and shifting them into place. Dust was magically scoured away, and the ceiling patched itself completely before the magic moved on to the rest of the house. "I suppose the rest of the village will need equal attention as well," Lyra continued, tapping her chin as she frowned in concentration. "Not to worry, I'll take care of it."

Yaeger was at Martin's elbow, grip numbing as he dragged the guard to hiss in his ear. "Am I supposed to know who this is?"

Martin didn't have any words; he simply shook his head, his eyes wide with alarm. Something was very wrong, here. His superior noted the tension and said no more, but his hand left Martin's arm for the dagger at his belt.

Rapunzel felt the same, her fingers pressing hard into Eugene's shoulder. Eugene forced a mild look on his face and squeezed back. "Easy, Sunshine. Let's not have a repeat of the Moonstone chamber, here."

But that was what Rapunzel was afraid of. This woman, the woman she'd seen before in dreams, was the Crimson Caster, the witch who had saved her mother's life. She was real, and finally seeing her in the flesh was both astounding and terrifying at the same time. The casual display of power at fixing Varian's house did not escape her, and she felt like she was standing on a sheet of thin ice: one wrong move, and they'd all go under.

Varian steadied his father, making sure the man wasn't about to fall over. When Quirin gave him a small nod, he turned to face Lyra. "Where's Shay?" he asked, trying (and failing) to keep the urgency out of his voice. Rapunzel visibly cringed at the question they all wanted answered, certain that the truth was not going to be good.

Lyra's gaze traveled clinically over Varian, looking at him from head to toe in a way that made his skin burn. "You'll see my daughter soon," she reassured him. "I will take you to see her, if you wish."

"I'd appreciate that," Varian's brow furrowed, but he forced the corners of his mouth to twitch upward. "It's good to see you, Auntie."

Lyra's expression was serene, nebulous. "But first," she told them, folding her hands into her sleeves. "I'm sure your father is famished and most definitely in need of care." She stepped out of the way of the ladder. "You'll find everything upstairs is now intact, and I have a fire going for supper…or breakfast, I suppose."

By the time they made it up into the house proper, Quirin's strength was already beginning to return. He gently assured Varian that he could move about just fine on his own and that he didn't need to be waited upon like an old man. Varian looked unconvinced, but he knew the real reason why he didn't want to leave his father alone was because a very deadly witch, who had up until yesterday been trapped for more than seven years in a necromancer's tomb, was in their home. Varian was aware that his father had no context for many things, especially why the lead scout lieutenant of Corona, a guardsman, the princess and her consort were also present. Varian also tried not to look too surprised at their fully restored house, and he fought the urge not to run up to his now-intact room.

The others were at least gracious enough to remain in the main room as he followed his father into the washroom, helping him find a new set of clothes and wringing out a rag to clean the sweat from his face. For a moment, it felt like the past sixteen months had been a dream, and it was just Varian and his father again, living day by day. Quirin allowed his son to wipe his brow clean, and as he worked, Varian's love for his father nearly overwhelmed him. Eventually, he sat back, crying quietly. He didn't know how he would explain everything to his father, even though he had spent many an hour in jail wondering how he someday would. The one thing he was reassured of was that his father still loved him: he could see it in his eyes, felt it in the way he ruffled his hair and squeezed his shoulder.

"You're bigger," Quirin observed with a sleepy smile.

"Yeah?" Varian sniffed, mirroring the smile through his tears.

"Hm." Quirin took in a deep breath, expanding his chest to nearly twice the size. "So…two years?"
Varian's heart faltered, and he suddenly avoided his father's eyes. "One and a half," he mumbled. He expected his father to be stunned, or even angry. But when he finally looked up at him, Quirin's expression was of relief.

"Well," his father sighed. "I'd be glad even if it had been fifty years."

"Dad…" Varian swallowed. "There's so much I have to tell you."

Quirin drew a thumb over Varian's cheek. "Son, we have all the time in the world now for you to tell me." He pursed his lips. "Although, given the guests we currently have, it might help if you told me at least a few things."

Varian inhaled, gathering strength. "I committed treason, broke out of jail, found my childhood friend, discovered I've been chosen to carry the Moonstone, reconciled with the princess after my former crush decided to go crazy and team up with a demon to destroy Corona, but we stopped her, and how my childhood friend, whom I'm pretty sure I'm in love with, is missing, but her mom is here, so…Also, my best friend is my former prison guard, and Rudiger is big now. Like, really big."

"Oh." Quirin had gone pale under his stubble, accentuating the red under his eyes. "I see. Is that all?"

"Yeah. Oh, wait, except for Caius, who's also disappeared, and I'm pretty sure Lyra knows what happened."

"Caius?" Quirin looked alarmed now. "The fact that you even know who that is…" He hung his head, staring down at his hands. "This is my fault. I should have been more honest with you."

"No, Dad," Varian gripped his shoulders. "This is all on me. I disobeyed you, and it…the fact that it even cost a day of your life is something I will always hold myself responsible for."

"Varian," Quirin shook his head. "I'm your father. The responsibility is mine." When Varian opened his mouth to argue, he held up his hand. "We can talk more about all this later. For now, it seems we need to speak to Lyra." His expression became pinched, and he suddenly looked ten years older. "I thought I'd never see her again. I always understood why she left, but there were no letters, no way of knowing if she and the girl were safe. And even though she left me with a map, Lyra has never taken kindly to uninvited guests."

Varian grew serious. "What can you tell me about her?"

Quirin's eyes were grave. "She loves her family as much as I love mine. That makes her ruthless. The fact that she's here means she's looking desperately for something."

Varian's stomach turned over, and his pulse increased as he reached into his pocket for the Moonstone vial. He brought it out for his father to see, and the man reached for his own heart, clutching at his great breast through his shirt. "The princess needs to know," Varian whispered.

"I…never dreamed I could get this close to it without…" Quirin reached for his other hand, rubbing at the symbol etched into his skin. "You'll explain this? Later?"

"I swear, Dad, I will explain everything."

Quirin exhaled slowly. "I won't be much help for a while, yet. The situation is delicate. Be wary, Varian."

Varian nodded, tucking the Moonstone away. He reached for his father again, burying his face in his neck. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, son."

A knock issued from the other side of the door, and Varian could tell it was the princess before she spoke. "Varian?" He opened for her, and she ducked her head across the threshold. "Are you alright?" she asked Quirin. "I can heal you, if you need it."

But Quirin shook his head. "You're kind, princess, but it would be excess to cure my weariness. I will be fine."

Rapunzel smiled. "Good," she said, teary-eyed. She turned her attention to Varian. "Eugene is keeping Lyra occupied, or at least he's trying to. She hasn't said a word."

Varian actually snuffed with mirth. "Sorry, it's just…you know what they say about apples falling from trees?"

"Then let's hope Shay's mother has the same intentions," Rapunzel asserted under her breath.

Varian sucked air through his teeth. "Yeah, I don't do false hope."

"Let's go," Quirin ushered them outside. "Leave Lyra to me."

Breakfast was eggs and cured ham; the cured ham was for special occasions, stored safely and untouched in the pantry, but Varian was at a loss for where Lyra had conjured eggs from, since he'd eaten every egg in the house before the Battle at Old Corona. That being said, despite the gravity of the situation, he and the others ate without complaint. All except Yaeger, who had assumed his position in a dark corner of the room, eyes like twin daggers piercing each individual, watching for the first sign of trouble. For the first time since his dealings with the man, Varian was comforted by Yaeger's presence. Even Martin, though still apprehensive, was calm as he slowly chewed his food, and he even spared a compliment to Quirin for his curing skills. "This ham is amazing."

Quirin accepted the complement with a grunt. Varian was glad to see that the color was returning to his father's cheeks, his spine straightening more and more with each free breath. "Your cooking is as excellent as I remember," Quirin said to Lyra, who had wolfed down her plate with surprising abandon and was now watching everyone else eat. Quirin then asked the bold question: "How is your daughter?"

"She's well," Lyra answered, and she sounded sincere to everyone but Varian, who had firsthand experience lying through his own teeth. "She's sorry she wasn't able to come."

Varian wanted to start shouting, demanding where Shay was. But threats would get him nowhere, and losing his temper wouldn't help them discover what happened. With rage building behind his eyeballs, he bit his tongue and allowed his father to continue.

"Your cabin wasn't far from Ghislaine," Quirin said, stabbing a yellow egg fluff with his fork. "Do you take her there often?"

Lyra hummed a sad note. "Not as often as I'd like to," she answered. "She's very shy, my little hawk." The nickname ignited Varian's blood like a match thrown onto a kerosene spill. "Ever since her father was killed, she's been wary of strangers," Lyra continued. "It's why she was very happy to recognize Varian when he arrived, asking for help to free you."

"Did he, now?" Quirin glanced at Varian. "He's always been resourceful. I'm not surprised he found you."

"Yes, he's grown wonderfully," Lyra agreed. "You should be very proud of him."

"I am."

"Yes," Lyra repeated, stroking a lock of grey-red hair with her fingers. Her attention shifted to Rapunzel, her red eye searching. "I would never have guessed that the princess would be here when I came to offer my assistance. How is your mother, dear?"

"She's well," Rapunzel answered, smiling nervously. Her hand was in Eugene's, strangling his palm. "I would be happy to introduce you, if you'd like. I'm sure she would be very happy to thank you for what you did for us."

"There's no need," Lyra dismissed the offer with a smile and a flick of her hand. "The fact that you're safe and loved is thanks enough." She sighed. "Well, I'm glad to see all is well. Quirin, if you ever need anything, please don't hesitate to reach out to me, old friend."

Quirin nodded slowly. "Of course."

Varian blinked. She was going to leave, just like that? Panic rose in his throat, pushing the words out before he could stop them. "Wait, please, I…!" He was out of his seat now, fists balled at his sides. "You told me you'd take me to see Shay," he said, licking his lips. "I don't want to wait any longer than I have to."

"I'm sorry, kid," Yaeger finally spoke up from his corner; despite the intensity, Varian could sense that his apology was genuine. "I can't let you do that. You need to be present and accounted for at the capitol for your acquittal."

"He's right, Varian," Rapunzel agreed reluctantly. "I can't go against my father this time. I promised him I would bring you and Quirin back for the hearing."

"And you shall," Lyra stepped forward, reaching for Varian's shoulder. "But first, I must keep my word." Her fingers fell, and the weight of them seeped all the way down to Varian's heels. "I will take you to see Shay."

Then the room went black, and Varian was falling.

After a few terrifying moments, his feet found the ground, cutting off his cry. He felt himself steadied by Lyra's firm grip on his shoulder, and he gazed blearily about, trying to gather his bearings. It was still dark, and the air was cold now.

"Easy, love," Lyra's voice spoke somewhere to his left. "Deep breaths. This isn't the first time you've experienced a teleportation spell."

It was true, but that didn't make it any less jarring or concerning. "Where are we?" Varian panted, eyes wide as he could make them as his pupils worked to adjust themselves.

Lyra crossed in front of him, a shadow in the dark as her footsteps echoed; wherever they were, it was big, and it gave him a gut-wrenching guess. "Where it all began," Shay's mother answered. "Despite your own ambitions, you kept my daughter safe, and I am forever indebted to you for it. As such, you deserve to know the truth before I begin my crusade."

Varian was searching himself for the Moonstone, rummaging hastily in his pockets. He found nothing, and his panic amplified. It rose to his throat when a blue light bloomed from the darkness, clasped in Lyra's hand. It illuminated her ageless face, and Varian could have sworn he saw an instant of regret before she blew across the vial's surface. The glass dissolved into grains of sand, spilling through her fingers until the Moonstone rested in her palm. As it made contact with her skin, the area burst into lines of blue light, arcing and weaving across the stone to reveal Haderon's tomb. Varian's eyes darted instantly to the stone coffin: it looked exactly the same as they'd left it, the lid closed and cold as ice.

"The bargain," he demanded, his voice husky. "What did Shay and Caius do?"

"The terms were actually quite clever," Lyra began, her compliment sincere. "my little hawk wished for the murderer to spare my life, but he demanded a price be paid. My daughter submitted a solution: the murderer would release me from the tomb, and she would strip me of all magic."

"No magic…Caius would get what he wants without killing you," Varian marveled. "It's brilliant." He blanched. "Except you still have magic."

"In another time, I believe he wouldn't have even entertained her," Lyra admitted. "He would have simply pushed her aside and killed me without a second thought. But something's…softened him. He gave her the chance to save me."

"That doesn't explain why you still have magic," Varian's voice hardened. "Or where Shay and Caius are."

"Shay's efforts failed," Lyra answered patiently, as if speaking to him from a rocking chair. "It hurt that she would try to betray me. But she is safe."

Varian's gaze meandered slowly back to the coffin. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart nearly stopped. "You…you didn't."

Lyra followed his eyes and blinked once. "It sheltered me for over seven years. Even the murderer couldn't touch me."

"But Haderon's curse," Varian insisted. "How is this place not swarming with undead?"

"How do you think?"

Varian felt his panic upgrade to terror. "Lyra…Auntie, whatever it is you're planning, you've got to stop this."

"I am not your aunt, Varian," Lyra corrected. "I never was."

"That's not the point!" Varian begged. "We were like family, once! We can be like that again! I…I love your daughter. She's my best friend, and I know I don't deserve it, but…she's the most important thing I've gained over the past six months."

Lyra shook her head. "You're far too young to understand what love is."

Varian's fear was suddenly replaced by anger, so quickly it changed that he forgot for an instant how to breathe. "But you would, wouldn't you?" he hissed sharply. "After you left her to come to this place, to look for forbidden magic. You cared more about your dead husband than about your living daughter!"

Lyra's face twitched. "Take care, Varian."

But Varian discarded the warning, stepping closer to her. "You abandoned her!" he shouted. "You left her alone for years, and she grew up having to survive on her own. You wiped my memory and left her friendless! She went to Ghislaine, she found Caius, because you left her no choice! Think about it, Lyra! The man who killed your husband has done more for Shay than you ever have, and it's your fault! You think that locking her away is protecting her, but you did it because you didn't want to face the consequences!"

Lyra's face was an expressionless mask, eyes wide and unblinking. "Are you finished?" she asked.

Varian shoved his palm under her nose. "Give me that Moonstone," he ordered.

"No," Lyra answered predictably. "Your duty to the Moonstone has been fulfilled." She swept her arms in a grand gesture around the chamber. "You see this place? It does have a connection to the Moonstone. All the chambers do. But you see, they weren't built to commune with some Celestial spirit. They were crafted long ago by ancient mages for ease of travel. They were later repurposed by Demanitus to serve the Brotherhood, and he found a way to tie them to the Moonstone's power."

"That's a load of dog vomit," Varian retorted. "I've seen the Lunar Celestial, I've spoken to her!"

"Yes, you have," Lyra agreed. "I've always wanted to be an actress on a stage. Dressed in a pretty gown, hair to match my husband. It was a good show, wasn't it?"

Varian's brain processed that, and he suddenly felt nauseous. "Luna…that was you?"

Lyra nodded. "Just so. How else could I get you to bring me what I needed?"

The betrayal, the manipulation, hit Varian harder than if he'd been punched in the face. He swayed on the spot, like he was suddenly standing on a boat at sea. "But…how?"

Lyra reached under her blue scarf, searching for a fine chain. She extracted it to reveal a single sliver of blue stone, glowing and sparking as she held it near the Moonstone in her hand. "Magic relics and artifacts are so fickle," she explained. "They try to make up their own rules. How do you think I managed to locate the Sundrop in the first place? I'd taken it for a rainy day, at the time. Because I know that when it rains, it pours."

Varian was stunned, staring at the Moonstone sliver. His hands hung limply at his sides, and his knees were weak. "So, then…I'm no champion. No magic of my own, I'm just…a pawn."

"You were my champion, my dear." Lyra spoke softly. "And where I worried you might fail, you excelled. You've done incredible things, and I couldn't be more impressed." She placed a hand his shoulder. "Now I will have justice, and it's all thanks to you and my daughter."

Varian fought back a retch.

Lyra glanced back at the coffin. "You needn't suffer what I am about to do, Varian," she offered. "You can join my daughter in safety until the war is over. I will awaken you both when it is safe, and you can live out the rest of your lives together. There's no one else I'd wish for my daughter to be with." She took her hand away. "Or you can remain here and watch as I raze the fields of Corona and tear her purple banners to the ground, as I should have long ago."

Varian asked, even though he already knew the answer. "Why?"

Lyra stepped back and unfurled her arms, eyes white-hot in her head as she connected the Moonstone with its lost piece. A flash of light blazed across Varian's vision, and he watched as the stone began to orbit Lyra like a comet. "Corona was once a bastion for magic," she exclaimed as the ground rumbled beneath Varian's feet. "A safe haven for mages and wizards and yes, even alchemists. Then the magic was murdered, buried and forgotten, and when it tried to fight back, it was choked, burned and massacred across the countryside!"

A skeletal hand burst through the stone next to Varian's foot, and he leapt back with a gasp.

Lyra's magic was flowing and writhing across the entire chamber now, showering the air with static electricity. "We were forced into hiding, forced to peddle our talents when we should have been praised for our power! I watched as friends were dragged by their feet into carts, to be hauled away for interrogation, never to be seen again! My husband is dead by his own brother's hand because the king wanted his daughter's disappearance paid for in blood! They started a war, one that I intend to finish!"

The undead were in droves, massing around the chamber in a legion of teeth and bone, weapons ready, armor rusted and rattling. Varian was running to the coffin, throwing himself against the lid, straining. The stone refused to budge, and he cried out in frustration, shoving himself away. He tried to summon something, any kind of power he might have left, but all he felt was fear and the hollow eyes of the undead crawling down his neck. No bow, no alchemy, no Moonstone. Helpless.

"Zhan Tiri was foolish, and Gothel's daughter was weak." Lyra was a blaze of red, the Moonstone a ring of light buzzing and flashing around her. "Those left will stand witness as King Frederick is made to answer for his crimes!"

Varian ran, sprinting for the tunnel, shoving undead out of his way his shoulder twinging from the memory of escaping before. But this time he was alone, leaving Shay behind, and the feeling it left him with was worse than any arrow wound. Scratched and scuffed, he fled through the dark, scrambling up through the trapdoor and into the mid-morning light. Out in the open, he could see more undead shuffling purposefully through the trees, assembling to the tomb in scattered groups. Varian dashed around them, skirting and stumbling until he was clear, flying through the frosty underbrush. He wasn't sure where he was going, allowing his feet to carry him as far away from the madness as they could.

The Crimson Caster was going to wage war on Corona, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.