Here's the epilogue!

EPILOGUE: WHEN ICE THAWS

One year later

Something in the air was changing. The wind was becoming livelier, warmer and more playful. The snow was beginning to melt, rivers of blood and water intertwined as they flowed down the hills.

Time seemed to stop. Across every tribe, city, and kingdom, the people of Nunangat stopped what they were doing and stared upwards. They gasped as the dawn burst into bloom, a rose-pink sky with pale streaks of blue.

And then the sun came up.

It rose out of the sea, sending light over the horizon. As it flew upwards, the sky became brighter and brighter. The golden light glistened everywhere – over the waves, the snow, and the mountains. There was not a single heart not touched by this golden dawn, the warmth of spring on its way at last.

Something green began to rise out of the snow, warm and invigorating. Children, running barefoot in the snow, gasped at the tickly sensation that they got from those soft blades of grass nuzzling their ankles.

The children and younger adults had never seen anything other than eternal winter. They gasped at the warmth in the air, the brightness of the sky, the color of the world around them. For them, this was a triumph that only they could revel in, for they, as the younger generation, had made this happen. Lives had been lost, blood had been shed, but at the end of it all, winter had ended. And so they sang around, dancing in happiness and delight.

And the elders smiled to see the young ones celebrate, for they knew an age was beginning. A new era of prosperity had dawned, with Nunangat's liberation more than assured. The Empire of Glacia was over. And now that Isolde's eternal winter was over, they were no longer subservient to anything, or anyone.

And in one particular tribe in the north, a young woman stared at the dawn, her eyes glistening with tears.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I wish all of my people could be here to celebrate, for you all made it happen. To those who fell in the Battle of Nunangat, we will not forget you; I will make sure of it. I will make sure we all remember you as I lead my tribe forward in this new era."

She held her baby sister in her arms, who had undergone her naming ceremony at last. She lifted the infant to the sky.

"Kallik Tootega Adlivun," she said, "You will one day be a great warrior, just like the princess of Fulgur. You shall be the trailblazer in this new era of hope."

Kallik giggled happily, her little eyes dancing, and the woman affectionately stroked her sister's face. For the spring thaw was here to stay, and it would forever live on in their hearts.

Crown Prince Darius stood on stage, gazing at the thousands of people who had assembled to see him. The people stood in the gallery, waving their hands at him, the paparazzi taking photos.

Just another event that included live-stream coverage of his every move.

Just smile, Darius told himself. Smile, and pretend they don't exist. It's worked before.

But it wasn't working now. It was a year after Sharzad's death, and he still didn't feel whole or complete. The pain still ate at him, coming fiercely in waves.

She should be here, he thought. She should be receiving her guardianship of this kingdom alongside me. She should be our guardian fairy a thousand times over. He bowed his head.

"People of Fulgur!" High Priest Zarathustra Mazda stepped forward. As well as being the High Priest of the Order of Arya, the most prominent religious circle in Fulgur, he was Fulgur's representative at the Temple of the Thirteen Realms. He gazed down at the people as he spoke.

"As the High Priest of Arya, I am formally recognizing our royal family. Before we go ahead with the festivities, our current king would like to speak. Please recognize His Royal Majesty King Cyrus of the Kingdom of Fulgur!"

The crowd cheered as Darius's father stepped up to the podium, but their cheers soon disappeared as he gazed down at them solemnly. It was a while before he spoke.

"Greetings, people of Fulgur. As you all know, I am voluntarily abdicating my throne to my son, instead of letting it pass over to him upon my death. I have served this kingdom for the past two-hundred-and-four years, and it has been nothing other than an honor. But now, it is time for my son to take his rightful place.

"I know some of you are wondering: why now? Why is Prince Darius, as a mere nineteen-year-old, taking over the throne so early? After all, I have quite a few decades of life in me yet. I used to believe, a time ago, that youth was the worst time to hand on any responsibility to anyone. But the past nineteen years have changed me more than the rest of my reign put together."

His father paused for a moment, staring intently at the citizens of Fulgur. When he spoke, not a single word could be heard across the gallery.

"The power of youth has astonished me beyond measure," he said. "In the face of what appeared to be insurmountable chaos, my son led his colleagues into battle, liberating the realm of Nunangat from the oppressive Queen Isolde. He fought valiantly, defeating Icy of Sekuko at the end of the battle. And my daughter, Sharzad, fought with the utmost courage until her last breath, sacrificing herself to save an infant. She is a true hero."

Darius felt tears come to his eyes. Not now, not now… Already the tabloids didn't need any excuse to speculate about his life; he didn't want them to do it now. His father continued speaking, his voice an echo of the king he'd once been before.

"Remember Sharzad," he said. "Remember the icon she is for the people of Nunangat. She, a mere fourteen-year-old girl, has changed the world. Our youth have incredible powers, powers that we forever underestimate. They are filled with life. So please, before you doubt our youth: remember Sharzad. And that is all I have to say." He nodded to Zarathustra. "Begin the ceremony."

Darius was moved to the altar, where the priest solemnly stood in front of him, his long priestly robes billowing in the breeze. He motioned for Darius to turn around.

"Stand," he said, and Darius stood patiently while the priest placed the heavy robes over his shoulder, robes of the first king of Fulgur. "Now partake of the sap of the yakand-gul." He poured a thick red liquid into a chalice, solemnly handing it to Darius.

They'd practiced this many times. Darius was to sip the drink, not down it, which was perfectly fine with him; it tasted like lamb dung. Some of these traditions… Apparently the sap was supposed to represent fertility, as the tree had (according to mythology, at least) spread its roots to every planet on Fulgur. He finally finished the drink, handing it to Zarathustra.

"Now," the priest continued on, "it is time for you to light your fire." He passed Darius a torch.

Darius stared down at it. Every king had his own torch throughout his reign. It would be lit from the moment the king reigned to the moment he died; his father's flame was still going strong. Fire, lit by his own electricity… Although most male fairy-beings weren't able to cast major spells, he would be able to create a spark, enough to light up the torch. He had enough magical energy for that. Closing his eyes, he placed his right hand over the wick, concentrating on the neurons around him.

For you, Sharzad… The electricity around him bubbled. He gasped as the lightning sizzled, and heat concentrated on the torch.

Then it burst into flame.

Darius opened his eyes, staring at the yellow intensity of the fire. Yellow is the best color… It was said, by those who were superstitious, that the color of the flame was the best indicator of the length and intensity of a king's reign. Blue meant the monarch would not live very long, but that his reign would have a very meaningful impact on most of his people. Like Sharzad's… Red, by contrast, meant that the monarch would live a long life, but would not make many significant changes in his reign. Yellow, in his opinion, was the perfect combination of duration and impact.

"Crown Prince of Fulgur!" Zarathustra called. "Place the torch on the altar."

Darius did so. He stood with his right hand on his heart, waiting for what was to come next. The priest unwrapped a crown, which Darius stared at in awe.

It was the diadem of King Ardashir I, the first king of the Fulgurian Empire. It was carved intricately with golden swirls and lightning-bolts, and decorated with rubies, garnets, and diamonds. A dark-red headdress of yakand-gul branches constituted the base of the crown. Zarathustra faced Darius, his expression solemn.

"Will you solemnly swear to uphold the Constitution, Bill of Rights, and Sovereign's Charter, and govern the people of Fulgur with the utmost justice?"

"I will," Darius answered.

"Will you, to the utmost of your power, uphold the mission that King Ardashir the First started, to spread prosperity and fertility to every corner of this realm? Will you follow the doctrine of kings before you, and never let misery inhabit this kingdom?"

"I will," Darius answered again. The things they have to say… I feel sorry for this guy. Zarathustra finished the final part of the oath.

"Will you, as the commander-in-chief of all Armed Forces in this kingdom, solemnly swear to defend the Kingdom of Fulgur from any and all possible threats to its stability, even at the cost of your life?"

"I will," Darius promised, "so help me Tistyra."

"By the power vested in me by the Gods of Arya, I shall make that so." Zarathustra placed the crown on Darius's head. The yakand-gul branches poked at his head, but the diadem was cool against his forehead, a gleaming gold metal that shined with the power of all the previous kings. "Shahanshah Darius Atar Mithra of Fulgur, you are now declared the monarch of the Kingdom of Fulgur."

"King of Kings!" the people chanted. "King of Kings! King of Kings!"

Darius smiled. It was a Fulgurian custom for the ruling monarch to be declared the shahanshah, which meant king of all kings. Though I don't know what they'll do when a queen comes along… He smiled down at the gallery, allowing the paparazzi to take photos.

Then it was over. Reveling in his new stage in life, Darius headed towards the gallery, ready to be barraged by thousands of newscasters on his way down.

Daewon sat down next to Arishtat, sighing as they stared up at the sky. Fireworks were being lit in honor of the coronation; and as home to the realm of electricity, Fulgurian fireworks were particularly impressive. I don't know how they do it… He watched as the colored lightning soared into the air.

"There are people who go to school just to train to become fireworks lighters," Arishtat said, interrupting his thoughts. "It's an entire profession of its own – and a well-paying one at that."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Daewon grinned. "They're pretty sweet."

"Hey, you two!" Cixi came forward, wearing a long lavender dress with pale sparkles. "Isn't this great?" She danced around.

Daewon smiled at her. Darius's coronation invitation had stated that he could bring any guests he wanted. He'd decided to bring Cixi; he figured they all deserved a break, especially after everything. That was one crazy year…

"How is Ariel's Art Academy?" Arishtat asked.

"It's great," Cixi exclaimed. "I've made so many friends there. And I've learned so much that I never could have learned at MOA! And I've spoken to your friend, Leif, and he's taught me a lot about painting, too. We get along quite nicely."

"That's great!" Daewon truly meant it. "Great job, Cixi."

Cixi smiled. "See you later," she said. Then she was off.

"So, got any big vacation plans?" Daewon asked. Arishtat was granted ten vacation days in Quadrimensis; for the first time in five years, he was taking them. "You gonna take me around the world? We could vacation to the edge of the dimension and back" –

"Or we could just stay here," Arishtat interrupted, "and spend the rest of the night together."

Daewon smiled, resting his head on Arishtat's shoulder. "I'd like that."

He gazed up at the balcony, where Darius and Maire were presumably standing. As the two had recently announced their relationship to the world, they were constantly bombarded by tabloids. Darius had worried initially about announcing it, but Maire had declared hell to secrecy and joined him in telling the media.

It wasn't like Maire was out of the public eye anyways. During graduation, she had been chosen as a Guardian Fairy of Summa, the highest honor any defense-fairy could achieve. The money she was earning from the job would now more than cover her family's debt and taxes. And so she stood there, her green dress bringing out the shade of her eyes perfectly as she smiled down at the crowd.

"They're a good couple." Queen Mother Elaheh had joined them, and was smiling as she gazed up at her son. "Maire challenges him to think about the needs of all citizens, and Darius soothes her fierce temper. I should like to see another royal wedding someday."

Daewon sighed. As much as Maire liked Darius, he couldn't imagine her marrying into the royal family. She was too independent a woman to be permanently under the paparazzi's eye. But he knew that, even if Maire and Darius broke up, they would always remain close to one another. What had happened in Glacia had happened, and no one was going to forget it soon.

"I think Darius will be a good king." Sedna had come forward, wearing a skin-colored taffeta dress. The gown, adorned with blue tassels, looked as if it'd been made from the sea itself. Her long brown hair was in a net at the top, and then flowed down her back. Beside her was the newly-elected Prime Minister Nuniq, who nodded his assent.

It had been decided that a prime minister would be democratically elected to a term of twenty years to serve the newly-created United Realms of Nunangat and Glacia. While Nunangat and Glacia would each have its own legislature, a prime minister and parliament would be there to preside over both. One of Prime Minister Nuniq's first decisions, aside from joining the UR, was to appoint Sedna as a Guardian Fairy of the realm. Like Maire's job, her role would be permanent, without any regard to party lines or legislators. She could no longer be the chieftain of the Adlivun Tribe, however; the power had passed to Amaqjuaq.

"He's clever," Sedna continued on, "and his heart's in the right place. A bit soft, in my opinion, but still – he'll lead his kingdom to glory, all right."

Anyone's soft compared to you, thought Daewon, thought I bet Saraswati could give you a run for your money. He felt a twinge of grief at that. Saraswati's death had not been entirely unexpected, considering that she'd been attacked by a powerful Freezix spell – not to mention, she'd been five-hundred-and-two years old. Her death had been largely mourned by the priestly community, although no funeral had been held – Saraswati had decreed that once she died, she did not want a fuss. Her ashes had been simply been scattered at the base of the Statue of Krishna, a testament to the priest she resembled so well.

Atete had ascended to the position of High Priestess, which she would serve as until the day she died. Agloolik had also joined the circle, as there'd been a new opening for priests of Nunangat. They called it the Temple of the Fourteen Realms now. Every so often, Daewon would visit it to seek out the tranquility and the serenity of the temple.

"I propose a toast." Sedna had drawn her glass, and was pouring wine into everyone's. "A toast to how far our realms have come in a year. May Nunangat rise to prominence a thousand years from now!" She poured wine into Elaheh's, Arishtat's and Nuniq's glasses.

"Sweet," Daewon grinned. "Don't I get some?"

Arishtat was about to say something, but Sedna shot Daewon a fierce glare. "Don't even think about it, mister," she warned. "You've got a year left, then you can drink all you want. For now, you stick to your fruit punch."

Nuniq leaned over to Daewon, whispering, "She got that line from babysitting Kallik. Akna makes her look after the child whenever she goes back to Adlivun for holiday. And besides, you should see what she drinks at the offi" –

"What was that, Prime Minister?" Sedna boomed.

"Nothing," Nuniq said sheepishly, backing off. They all laughed and clinked their glasses together, ready for a night of fun.

But one girl was not celebrating along with the rest of them. She was alone at the top of one of the towers, gazing silently at the scenery around her. The fireworks, the ladies' dresses, the fun… She sighed and leaned back, gazing down at her gown.

She was wearing a simple peach dress with golden slippers. In comparison to all the other women, her dress was like that of a peasant's. Once public-image had been in her mind, but she no longer cared how she appeared in the eyes of other people. Angéle always looked beautiful in even the simplest of clothing… She sighed, remembering the expensive frock she'd worn last Trimensis for prom, a dress she would never wear again.

For she was not the same girl she'd been that day. That was an old era, a time when she was the belle of all balls and was worshipped enough to be the President of Magix. Now, people didn't even give a second thought about her. She was just another ordinary girl of Solaria.

And she was fine with it. For now she had something, something she'd never had back then. She had people around her, people who cared for her and would stop at nothing to make sure she healed.

It was Trimensis 22. Exactly one year had passed since the day they'd broken the spell, her birthday. She was now eighteen years old, a woman at last. And yet, it seemed as if not much had changed at all.

I'll never be completely healed, she thought, for there's no such thing. There'll still always be a part of me that's vulnerable, the little girl who never had any support. But now I have a family, a family of people who would sacrifice their lives for me. She thought of how Darius and Maire had searched for the Quintet of Elements, how Daewon and Arishtat had spoken to MOA and found the essence of Matsu. How Saraswati had led them all. How Atete had always been, and would always be, there for her, for the rest of her life.

And now she was to continue her studies at Alfea. Headmistress Faragonda would allow her to come back in the beginning of Quintmensis to complete her senior year. She would be allowed to complete her defense training and get a degree; maybe she'd even get a job in Solaria. If the king forgives me for what happened to Princess Stella… She sighed and lowered her head.

Someone was coming up the stairs. Aria blinked as she saw a somewhat shabby-looking boy, wearing an old suit that probably once belonged to his father and a polka-dot blue tie. He stood next to her, staring up at the sky.

"You're Leif, aren't you?" she asked. She'd heard about him. How he'd defeated Ragnar Bloodaxe, how he was training to become the next Shaman of the Nunangatan Tribes. An honor similar to what Angéle would've received… She stared at the ground.

The boy nodded. "Yes," he said. He gazed up quietly at the sky, at the fireworks' display in the night. "All of that lightning reminds me of how Sharzad broke the Gate down" – He stopped short.

Aria looked at him. Although he was but fourteen years old, the same age Sharzad had been on her death, he was quite mature. What was more, she and Leif had both gone through many of the same experiences throughout their lives. We both lost our lovers… A pang shot through her as she stared up at the sky.

It was quieter now. The fireworks had ended, and although she could hear the roar of the people below, it was much softer than it would've been had she gone down. She gazed up at the clouds, the white Fulgurian clouds.

She could've sworn some divine power was playing with them. They moved into each other, two white cumulus expanses. And then they formed to shape a… swan. The swan stood proud for a moment, and then the clouds moved away from one another, like the ending of a brief but forever impactful relationship.

And then Aria saw, clearly, that this was the story of hers and Angéle's love. Whether they'd have stayed together if she'd lived, it was impossible to say. But she did know that what they'd had, in the Land of Dreams, had been utterly real. For although their time together had been very brief, it had impacted her in so many ways more than she'd know. She knew with great certainty that, had she not known Angéle, her mind would've been lost forever to Queen Isolde.

Through the pearly white clouds, she thought she could see the shape of an angel, one that weaved notes with her harp into a beautiful, sonorous song. The song glistened over her, golden and radiant, a gentle healing energy that rose her heart. She lifted her head and stared up at the sky.

And then she was singing, brilliantly against the dark of the night. Heads turned up to stare at her from far below, but for once, she didn't care about the attention she was receiving. She was too busy calling out to her lover, with whom she'd be reunited with someday in the stars.

For although decades would pass and she might find new lovers and hopes, now was the time to honor Angéle's love. And so she stood at the top of the turret, her heart singing its song as birds flew above her in the clouds.

So, there it is! What do you guys think? Loved it? Hated it? What did you think about the relationships and character-deaths? Let me know in the reviews below!

I'll be back tomorrow to officially end the saga. I hope to see you all soon!