Epilogue

FLORET, CROWNLANDS, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD

Alfyn walked up the tower. Running was beneath him, at least for now.

He remembered Raevsvakt well, almost as if it was but yesterday's events. But over nine months had passed, and much had changed. The lack of swiftness in Alfyn's pawsteps reflected that well.

Another was the beasts accompanying him. Denebas Burelas was not a stranger like Egil once was, but he served the same purpose here. To protect Alfyn as he protected the squirrel, and to serve as Alfyn's conscience. Sigrun Swalestrom proved to be the same sort.

Not that he needed one anymore. He had to say that he had grown inside. His experiences with Thordan and Egil have taught him much, the latter especially. The fact that a vermin could have morals was new to him - Egil proved to be not the best example, but still. Triel's practice of keeping tens of thousands of vermin slaves seemed less appealing after that.

"You seem deep in thought," Sigrun said, stopping alongside the tall otter, while the squirrel's footpaws grinded to a halt as well.

"Yes." Alfyn paused, then spoke again. "I suppose this rings similar to Raevsvakt, but whatever. Thordan still needs to be rescued every few months, so at least this didn't change."

"I should have sensed a pattern." Denebas said as he nodded. "I got the feeling that I don't have to stab anybeast again."

"Hopefully not." To be fair to Alfyn, this rescue was smaller in scale. He had managed to free his two companions with the sheets of paper Dagbert the mole had given him, and Egil would not be so different. The otter had no idea why the Archivist would help him, but all help was appreciated. Besides, the fewer questions asked, the better.

Walking up to the second floor was a muted affair - Alfyn did not even have to pant. All he had to do was find the nearest guard and talk to him. No mass distractions, no guard-slaughtering, no lord-stabbing. So why was he still expressing trepidation?

"Hey! You!" The head guard, an otter like always, quickly turned his head towards Lord Alfyn. "What are you doing here, Lord Stalwart? I thought you were to leave after the tournament! Or are you too irritated by your humiliating defeat for you to leave?"

"I do not mean to cause trouble, honourable guardsbeast." Alfyn bowed his head, making sure Sigrun and Denebas were out of sight. "I only seek to liberate two prisoners on the good will of King Darian. After all, he will be crowned in a month."

"That would be the false king and his freak, right?" The otter scoffed while Alfyn winced."'Let me check your documents."

Alfyn obliged as he smiled, thinking back when Dagbert carefully placed the royal seal on the documents, 'lent' to him by an unknowing royal. "Heard that the Boreller's going free too."

"I don't really know," the guard admitted. "Heard that his sister's going to be queen soon, so that is plausible." The otterguard looked at the forged documents once again. "No problem with these. You may pick them up."

"Thank you." Alfyn grinned behind the guard's back. He had gone a long way since the days when he thought with his sword.

"Oh, but only the weasel." The guard seemed not to fear the taller and stronger otter - he was no Bertil. Still, he was determined to defy Alfyn, which never worked out well.

"Why?"

The guard's tone was matter-of-fact. "Lord Becker's nephew's gone."

'What?' Alfyn's tone was another matter. "How?"

"He just disappeared. We made sure he slept, but the next morning he was not there." The guard turned upwards and shouted to the guards posted above. "Get the weasel down!"

Within a minute, the disheveled form of Egil was dragged down by two otterguards that seemed angry. After all, they had to put up with a vermin - a very specific vermin -for most of a month. Even Thordan would be exhausted and a bit miffed, to say the least.

"Take your vermin and go. Floret doesn't need vermin filth inside its walls." The guards then walked down the stairs, having no prisoners to guard anymore. If they had looked towards the right at the correct moment, they would have spotted an ottermaid and a squirrelknight hiding behind a pillar. But they did not.

"They've killed him." Egil shook his head, eyes crimson from weeping. "They've killed Thordan."

"Killed?" The world seemed to shake around Alfyn, and a look from Sigrun indicated that her concern far outweighed his. "No. That will not be possible. King Gideon would, maybe, but his son will not. He's too kind for that."

"I heard him scream last night." Egil rushed his words. "He's gone missing, and that cannot be a simple coincidence!"

"Indeed it is not."

The four turned to the voice, speaking from the room which used to hold Thordan. "Slyte often has this effect on beasts."

The voice belonged to a mole, who happened to look like Dagbert. Still, it could be easily observed that he was much younger, and he had two iconic swords strapped to his back. The fact that he had no glove on his right paw was a subtler clue - Alfyn didn't know why Dagbert even needed that.

"So what happened?" Alfyn had never seen Egil this nervous before, and he could say that he was a little afraid as well. "Tell us now!"

"A pinch of patience can help you for your entire life." Arbert the mole deflected the question. "My brother told me that. But still, Thordan is perfectly alive, if not perfectly well."

Alfyn put a paw upon his sword. "What have you done to him?"

"We helped him escape certain death in Floret, though we have failed to notify him beforepaw. Hence the surprise." Arbert nodded at his own statements. "We have much to work on in our planning, but it matters not. Come here, all of you."

Alfyn proceeded to do so, and took in the surroundings of Thordan's cell. The smell was not particularly good, and there was a single window, scarcely enough for illuminating the whole room. But what caught his eyes was the window in the centre of the room that seemed to lead to somewhere else.

Arbert too realised their confusion. "What? Never seen a Pathway before? Oh. Right. I mean, one of you has seen one, but she's been Pressured."

Alfyn rubbed his chin as Arbert went on and on about stuff few would have heard of. What's the mole talking about anyway? Has he gone insane?

Taking a deep breath, the mole finally saw fit to stop rambling. "As we pass through this door, you will be free. The other side is Redwall Abbey, which Thordan would have told you about more than once, I believe."

"Wait a second." Sigrun spoke next. "How do you know if you're telling the truth?"

Arbert turned around, surprise lingering on his face for a mere second before his face turned back to stone. "You don't." He pointed at the portal again. "Now go. The Gates of Redwall are open to all, and Thordan will not be far away."

Alfyn quickly thanked the mole, then turned to his friends. "Let's get moving then."

"You should not have killed him." Becker grimaced at the squirrel. "Regicide is sacrilegious and is generally frowned upon."

"I did that for the good of the realm." General Ralos was franker than usual, with no understatement or hyperbole. "And is that a pun I smell at the end? With 'generally'."

"That was not intentional." Becker's face betrayed his penchant for whimsical humour before swiftly returning to something more serious. "You could have ruined the peace completely if you were caught!"

"But I was not." The squirrel sighed. "I didn't want that. I never wanted King Gideon to die. But he was dead set on executing Thordan Swalestrom and punishing Triel. Southsward will fall to Parma if he gets his way."

Becker tried to say something, but his throat failed him. Ralos, like always, was right. "You didn't try hard enough to persuade him. We failed Southsward."

"We did not!" The squirrel banged a paw on the table. "The realm is more safe than ever before. Parma has a weak king, and Triel's yoke has been shattered. We simply need a few seasons of peace - the more the better."

"Fifteen seasons." Becker stood up. "Do you think that it will be enough?"

Ralos nodded. "All shall be well. The Trielians will only break the peace if they had the ability to. Garmund is no fool, and you are going to take over Dravania as Viceroy while Galen takes over as Skipper."

"Half of it, anyway." Becker smiled. "Lower Dravania's mine to look after, while Upper Dravania will be left to Lorents. A divided Dravania is easier to manage - I do not know why they were even held together in the first place. Gates, they even speak different languages!"

Ralos agreed. "It is quite hard to imagine Erlend's whelp being the last king of Dravania. Kingdoms do not usually perish with a whimper."

Becker nodded absent-mindedly. His brother's letter had been quite descriptive in both predictions and insults. A change of subjects should be in order. "What will you be doing in the meantime? Southsward's army needs rebuilding."

The old general smiled. "I suppose one last triumph of mine should be enough for me to procure a retirement. I've seen and sown enough death."

"Wish I could say the same." Becker yawned. The night was encroaching upon the world again, and sleep would prove welcome. He had faith in his daughter and her husband, and he would need the same faith for himself.

"One thing." Ralos lifted up a claw, and Becker turned his head. "Rest well, knowing that your children did not die in vain."

DEILART, DUCHY OF DEILART, KINGDOM OF TRIEL

"It is our pleasure that you have finally appeared, Your Highness." Lady Morag curtsied at the otterqueen, who tried her best to smile at the squirrelwife.

Both Lorelei and Morag could only count herself lucky that Altayras was gone to Burelas, to pack up his sister's belongings for her wedding, and to make a few more preparations. He, unlike his sister, was never good with beasts, though he made putting his footpaw into the mouths of other beasts something less like a mistake and more resembling an art form.

"Your sincerity is greatly appreciated." Lorelei proceeded to do the same. "I come here not on Garlean accord, or Thavnair business, but it is something of a more personal issue." Morag, as most young beasts do, was quite familiar with personal business, but Lorelei had no intention of pulling an Altayras.

"Business of what sort?" Duke Domnall was ever infirm, so Morag had to run a duchy for him - which seemed to diminish the chances of her having her 'fun'. "It is with my husband, right?"

"No." Lorelei shook her head. 'It is something he should never know about, especially if you remain silent. "Have you lied in the near past? Do you even recall ever lying?"

"Not really," the squirrel shook her head. "No. Why lie when the truth is so much more fun?"

Lorelei nodded. "You have a point. The truth is far more interesting than any lie one could conjure up. Lies are impossible for a stable mind. But there is another reason for your - for our inability to lie at all."

"What would that be?" Morag was her usual inquisitive self, earning Lorelei a chuckle.

The otterqueen recalled a warm spring day in Vargo, her father and Isangrim at a chessboard, where she learned about what she was to say. "Both of us are bound to the truth, Lady Morag. Both of us are seers."

"Seers?" Morag wondered aloud. "They're just vermin tales, fantasies and superstitions, right?"

Lorelei scoffed. She had had these thoughts long ago. "It is very apparent that they are completely genuine." She lifted up a paw, housed tightly within a gauntlet. Her Shadowbringers have been unused for too long.

"This is an Augmenter. It allows you to do things the world has never seen before, but only if you have the power to Conjure."

The squirrel looked at Lorelei blankly. "I do not understand."

Lorelei took a deep breath. Were all Trielians that dense? Was this why leaving Thordan here in Triel turned him into what he was like today? Perhaps. But I will not lose my temper. Not now. "Nobody does in the beginning. Allow me to show you a figment of its power."

The otterqueen swiftly embraced Conjuration, delaying its effects to emphasise them. Slowly, a glow of red light blazed through the gauntlet, earning a gasp from the squirrel. Then green and blue light pierced through the darkness, and Morag was in awe.

"That was incredible!" Morag sat still, still amazed by what had passed.

"And you can do it as well." Lorelei smiled as gently as she could. "Once your pregnancy is over."

"I'm with child?" The squirrel seemed surprised.

"A male." Lorelei may be no healer, but a Conjurer she was, and she was taught to observe the smallest details by both her parents. "The mark of a Conjurer. We can only bear sons while male seers can only sire daughters."

"But Altayras-"

"Will not know anything if we do not let him know anything." Lorelei helped the squirrel complete her sentence. "It is in our interests to keep everything secret. You do know how to keep a secret, do you not?"

Morag nodded. "What can we do? As Conjurers or seers or whatevers?"

"Conjuration has the ability to control Earth, Wind and Water. While less destructive than vermin Thaumaturgy, we have the gift of subtlety. We are also better healers than they are, and we can use Veils and Pressures."

"I think I lost you long ago…" A glance to the left indicated that Morag was still more confused than ever.

"Don't worry." Lorelei smiled for the third time. "You may have much to learn, but time is on our side for now. Wait and see."

THE RIFT

Thordan needed to stop waking up in the Rift. He didn't know how many times he had done it, but he did know that every time that happened was outside of his control.

He recalled getting unpleasantly startled by a figure, then having the consciousness choked out of him, all while he tried to scream with limited effect. Even Erlend screamed louder than him.

"I see Slyte had done his job well." Thordan turned his head right towards a one-pawed mole. Before Thordan could do anything to his old tormentor, he felt Conjuration being cut off abruptly from him. Erlend fled within his mind, screaming. Thordan may not be braver than the fox, but the vermin had no rage to sustain his dwindling courage.

"You." A single syllable was Thordan's response. "You do not know when to quit, do you not?"

Dagbert sighed. "I mean you no harm at all, Young Thordan. I simply mean to free you from your captivity. Your friends have already been liberated."

"You do not seem capable of mercy to Southsward's enemies." Thordan said. "I simply do not know why you're here. Why help me?"

Dagbert, in true Archivist fashion, deflected the question with a random statement. "From this moment on, you are no longer a pawn in my game. Rest assured that I still have further motives, though for more altruistic reasons."

"So what am I to do now?" Thordan felt Erlend crawl back out from his hiding place. "Forgive you for my abduction, then hope that good things happen to me ever since?"

"Your intuition surprises me." Dagbert smiled. "Worry not. I will not harm you if you refuse to do so, of course. Nor will I harm those close to you because of your follies."

"Then I simply refuse to do so." Thordan crossed his paws. "Forgiveness would have to wait, when I'm older and wiser, perhaps. Or you're older and deader."

Dagbert sighed. "In that case, I would have to apologise again." A Pathway materialised behind Thordan's back. "Not for the Viksten incident - I already did that - but for separating you from your friends yet again."

"Wait-" Thordan could do nothing as Dagbert flicked his paw, sending the otter back into the world of the waking.

KURBURG, KINGDOM OF OTHARN, HIGH KINGDOM OF PARMA

Thordan sipped his cup of tea.

Having to masquerade as his own son was humiliating enough, but tea? That was downright degrading. Surely something alcoholic will be fitting? But then, he was no longer the most powerful ruler in this world, nor the head of an interdimensional organisation. He was just an illegitimate son of an otter of some note.

A pity his successor preferred the vile drink.

"You say that you're King Thordan's son that nobeast had ever heard about?" Niels had grown up from an inquisitive child to an inquisitive king, and Thordan always carried a slight bit of regret about raising him that way.

"I am descended from king Thordan." Thordan spoke that half-truth as naturally as he breathed. He had merely declined to specify which Thordan he was talking about. "My name being the same is quite the clue."

"Well, Thordan Heavensward, I do have one thing to ask."King Niels Crestworth was calm for once, probably thinking that he was in control of the situation. "Picture this. A vermin stashes away a golden coin, then asks a woodlander to search for it. Why? What could his intentions possibly be?"

"A riddle?" Thordan smirked. "It is not exactly the thing I need. But there are many possibilities, Your Highness. Perhaps he had forgotten where it's hidden."

Niels rubbed his chin. "He could be playing a prankster's game as well."

"Or that the coin has truly gone missing." Thordan shrugged. "Guessing is useless."

"It could also be that the vermin and the woodlander are but testing each other, or a simple misunderstanding may have occurred." Niels proved to be enjoying this. "But there happens to be more interesting reasons. In this case, the woodlander, the vermin and the coin are simply one and the same." The otterking smirked. "Who are you really, Emetselk?"