Tintin and Haddock ran up to the crowd gathering in the plaza, Cuthbert already on a platform in the middle. They squeezed and pushed past the hot, sweaty crowd until they reached frontline.

"What are the charges?"

"Theft."

"Theft? But what has Cuthbert stolen?"

"Cuthbert didn't steal anything!" Haddock hissed. "They're framing him, making it look as if he'd stolen his own invention."

"Oh no!"

Tintin stared up at the gallows, the noose placed over Cuthbert's neck. Something swelled in him, hot and desperate, but he kept it down. The words and proclamations of the executioners echoed through the air.

Who would do this? Everyone knows Cuthbert is the only one who can create such a device. Wait—

A man stood near the steps to the gallows, staring at Tintin with a death smile.

Tintin drew in a sharp breath.

As soon as the floor opened from under Cuthbert, he lifted up a pillar to support him. The noose hung slack around his neck.

A ripple of shock went through the crowd but no one said anything in opposition. Beside him Haddock grinned and exhaled. "Blistering barnacles, wasn't that—"

A dagger whistled past them, Haddock falling to the ground as he clutched his ear. Scarlet blood stained his skin, his howls of pain piercing the air.

White hot anger pulsed from Tintin's chest, exploding in his head. His fists tightened. First Cuthbert, now Haddock? What do they want from him? Would they take away even the little that he had?

Turning on his heel he marched over to the trader and faced him. The trader met his stare right back.

"Enough."

The ground under the trader shifted, quicksand sucking him down up to the neck when Tintin re-solidified the rock. With a flick of his hand a pillar rose from the trader's home, the child slaves running out, chains broken.

Careful—the children…

Tintin crushed the building to bits as he had done before, but this time he would make sure it could never be built on again. He raised his hands to the sky one last time, jagged cagliotiostro jutting out in twisted forms, the ground rendered utterly useless. "And now for you—"

"Wait! Sapristi, Tintin, what are you doing?"

Haddock stumbled forwards, clutching his still bleeding ear and tearing away from the people helping him. "Have you gone mad?"

Tintin didn't answer.

"You swore, you promised never to harm anyone with your abilities. You swore to use them for good. What do you think you're doing now?"

Giving the trader a slight break, Tintin turned to Haddock, ears ringing and heart pounding. Of course Haddock was right. Of course.

And yet… Great snakes.

Tintin gazed at all the people's horrified faces and staggered back. He didn't mean to—he was—Cuthbert—

Covering his face with his hands, he ran away, the ground shuddering with aftershocks even as he left the town.

He'd been so foolish.

Once again Tintin walked on the border of the cliffs, gazing out at the high tide crashing on the rocks. Beautiful, especially now at twilight, with the moonlight glimmering on rough waves. There, on the water, was Haddock's boat.

Tintin stood at the edge of the same cliff when he'd first met Haddock. He would've jumped at that time, and now he'd come full circle.

Jump. Jump now. You've been a failure. What are you waiting for? You've only brought destruction and demise on all you touch.

Tintin peered over the edge but he couldn't take another step. Even as the voices in his head raged on, he couldn't move. Under him the sea called out.

As if to accommodate him the cliff edge groaned under his feet, crumbling little by little. Tintin stepped back.

He fell.

I don't want to die.

"Wait!"

A hand gripped his wrist, the only thing stopping him from falling to the rocks below. Tintin looked up. "Haddock!"

"Tintin! Use your magic!"

My… magic?

"No! I'll never—"

"Use it or you'll—we'll die."

"I don't deserve to live."

Haddock cursed, his words cracking the air. "Blistering barnacles, I'll be a sea monster's uncle—" His grip began to slip and he yelled, reaching out his other hand. The cliff crumbled even more. "Tintin!"

The cliff gave and they plummeted to the ground.

Haddock pulled Tintin to himself and shut his eyes, as if that would break their fall. "I won't let you get hurt, I won't—"

Strong, firm ground caught them in its hollow top and they landed in its small depression. Tintin placed a hand on Haddock's arm. Both of them stared at each other, identical blue eyes glimmering in the fading rays of the sun.

Then, without word or warning, Tintin embraced Haddock. "Can you ever forgive me? I couldn't, I shouldn't—"

Haddock interrupted him with a strong squeeze. "Sh. Don't think about it. There may still be time for you to do something more about that."

Instead of a trader's ring, a pillar rising to the sky or cagliotiostro piercing the ground, something else replaced all these things.

A small school, open to all and sanctioned by the town itself. Tintin stared up at it, for once satisfied with the work of his hands. Beside him Haddock nodded in approval.

Tintin shrugged. "But that isn't going to fix everything."

"It's a start." Haddock placed an arm around his shoulders. "Brother."

The sun rose on the town, quiet and full of golden hope in its rays.