Wings of Anemos

by HyrulianJedi

Generations ago, the Kings of Anemos took their people and fled the world, becoming little more than a myth. When myths come alive, however, Weyard's most recent heroes find themselves struggling to balance their own issues in this new world against the future of Weyard itself, learning the price some must pay to be heroes.

17. Stumbling in the Dark

Golden Sun: Wings of Anemos

Chapter 17 – Stumbling in the Dark

- \/\/ -

Wind howled around the aerie, screaming its eerie chorus as it carried around great pockets of snow. The blizzard filled so much of the air that Isaac could barely see the black skies beyond. As it spun around him, the very air itself seemed to ignite, each snowflake catching the warm light of the beacon and reflecting it back.

Isaac stood before the beacon with the golden blade of Prox in one hand, his entire body shaking. He did not tremble from fear; he had stood here before, in the same situation, and though he had failed last time, he did not fear failure again. He did not shudder from horror; though he once faced a hideous creature here that hid an even more hideous truth, he looked back on the memory with more shame than anything else. He did not shiver from the cold; on the contrary, the beacon's brilliant radiance melted any snow before it could even consider touching the aerie.

He shook with rage. Pure, unfiltered rage, not a simple black or white, or hot or cold, but an incredible fury that spanned the entire spectrum of existence. It had taken hold of his body, mind, heart, and soul, combining them into a single, unstoppable force whose voice could invoke terror with a word, whose commands could never be disobeyed.

Once more, he felt the presence of Mars itself, the very essence of the element and all its influence on Weyard. He felt it wrap around him, searching inside his body, mind, heart, and soul, searching for whatever it sought inside him.

He had no patience for such a search.

Isaac's eyes remained fixed on the beacon as he shifted the blade to his side, grabbing hold with both hands. The presence around him almost seemed to pause, as if questioning what he intended to do. In the next instant it all but vanished entirely, only the faintest wisps remaining in observation.

He spoke no words this time. No language of Weyard held the words that could properly translate his feelings. Instead he spoke in the language of fury, the pure speech of anger, the high tongue of rage. His mouth opened in a raw, throaty scream, his vocal chords rippling in ways they had never been used. The rage clawed its way from his stomach as it escaped, throwing itself at the beacon eagerly.

Isaac followed it. He sprinted across the aerie, pulling the glowing sword back as he did. When he reached the beacon's well, he threw himself into the air and swung the blade forward, his scream reaching a new pitch. The blade struck the beacon solidly and both turned pure white as Isaac remained suspended in midair. He continued screaming, his throat feeling like it was ripping apart, never taking his eyes from the beacon.

After a moment, the sword slipped into the beacon as if it were a sphere of water. Isaac followed, vanishing into the white light entirely, his scream echoing through the night.

- \/\/ -

Sheba reached out and knocked on the door, then stepped back, clasping her hands behind her. She rocked slightly between her heels and her toes, humming a soft tune to herself. The tune had been stuck in her head from the moment she woke, though she had no idea why; her mother sometimes hummed it, but Sheba had not heard her do so in months.

A rustle came from behind the door, followed by a gentle scrape of wood upon wood. One of Felix's eyes suddenly appeared in the crack of the doorway. It stared at the girl for a moment before the door opened more, revealing the man, still dressed in his travel clothes and holding his sword by the sheath.

Sheba frowned as she pushed the door completely open. Felix's other hand rested on a chair, though the room's desk sat on the opposite wall, beneath the window. The bed behind him remained undisturbed. She peeked around the corner and found his pack sitting against the same wall as the door, malformed in a way that made her suspect someone had been leaning on it. She looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow. "You look like you slept well."

He grunted and turned away from the door, missing the eye roll it prompted from Sheba. "There's always people who don't listen. I didn't want to take the chance." His gaze drifted to the dark window before he turned back around. "Gods, Sheba, what time is it?"

"Um...early," she said, twisting her hands guiltily. "I...kinda wanted to show you something."

Felix grunted again, shaking his head. "You didn't cut your time with your family to be here this early, did you?"

Sheba quickly waved her hands. "No! No, no, no. Ivan gave me this little sandglass a while ago, one that rings bells after a certain amount of time. I used it to make sure I could be here on time."

He stared at her from inside the room for a moment, then sighed. "Give me a minute."

The door shut once more, leaving Sheba alone in the silent hallway. A soft snoring drifted out from the room behind her, and she wondered who could possibly be using the inn. Few people actually visited Lalivero, after all, and when they did, it was usually to visit someone in particular. The inn only existed because the owners' children had moved elsewhere, leaving the pair alone in a relatively large house. Rather than move, though, they simply rented the upstairs rooms out when required.

Usually, though, they were used for family disputes. Sheba remembered how unruly some of the people became after drinking, and in a few cases, their spouses would refuse to let them in. The innkeepers always let them in at night, never turning anyone away, then settled all debts in the morning - one way or the other.

She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as a chill ran through her body. With the sun down, the temperature had dropped significantly, but Sheba knew better than to wear any additional layers. Within an hour of the sun rising, the heat would begin cooking them all once more.

The walk over had been odd, though. Despite living here for almost all of her life, she rarely found herself awake at this hour, much less outside. Any nighttime excursions with friends had been better classified as late evenings, when no one wanted to go home for the night yet. Candlelight could still be seen flickering in windows, people still moved between buildings, and the quiet murmur of conversation still whispered throughout the town.

In the early hours of the morning, though, Lalivero reminded Sheba of the ocean in a calm. The only lights came from above, while the only sounds came from her own footsteps. Not a soul moved, save her and the gently swaying grasses. The town disturbed her like that, so void of life. She found the hair on the back of her neck standing up and almost turned back, wanting to simply crawl back into bed and lie under the blanket, but she pushed aside the unease and continued to the inn.

When the door opened again, Sheba's eyes did the same. Felix stepped out, carrying his pack and sword, and shut the door quietly behind him. "Alright. Where are we headed?"

She grinned, grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him towards the stairs. "It's a surprise."

Once outside, she turned to him and thrust a pair of canteens into Felix's hands. "That one's ginger tea," Sheba explained, pointing to the smaller one. "Mia showed me how to make it."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "We're teleporting?"

Sheba nodded. "It's too far to walk to be there in time, and I don't think you'll want to walk back once the sun comes up, so I packed a breakfast, too," she said, patting her own bag. She took a deep breath, then looked up at him. "Ready?"

After he nodded as well, she reached out and gently grabbed his hand. The small touch made her stomach rise a few inches, roll over, then settle back down after a stern thought from her. The travel would flip her stomach over enough; no need to add more to it. She closed her eyes, blocking out the terrifying, distorted sights that awaited one while teleporting, and focused herself. Unlike the trip to Lalivero, she succeeded on her first try, reappearing on the banks of a moderately-sized lake.

The two immediately moved apart, knowing all too well the sensations teleportation evoked. Neither said anything for a few minutes, waiting for the sharp nausea to subside, risking small sips of the ginger tea as they did. Once Sheba felt stable again, she turned around, finding Felix staring out across the dark lake.

"Good thing we weren't a few more feet that way," Sheba said, gesturing with her head towards the lake. "Though we're not as close as I would've liked. Probably about a twenty minute walk still."

Felix shrugged. "Ivan said he landed about an hour away his first time without the lapis, so don't feel too bad about that. You're obviously getting better, at any rate." He turned, scanning around him, his eyes stopping on the yellow light to the southeast. "We're near the lighthouse."

Sheba nodded. "That's not where I was bringing you, though. We're not going that far."

Felix gestured for Sheba to lead the way. The girl hesitated for a moment, realizing that she had not been up to the Red Lake in years. She glanced around thoughtfully for a moment, then mentally kicked herself; the river left the lake. All she needed to do was follow the shoreline.

They started down the small, dark beach in silence for a bit. Sheba's eyes constantly scanned between the trees and the water's edge, knowing all too well the things that sometimes lurked in the dark. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Felix's hand casually resting on his sword, but she saw through the pretense. Many times had she seen him draw that sword from such a stance, with enough speed to be nearly unavoidable.

She questioned how much she would really be able to do, though, even if she saw something coming. She still could not control lightning, and with a glance up at Venus' beacon, she believed she knew why. Nothing she told herself could erase the memory of the terrible tingling that had flooded her body for that instant. Wind answered fine to her call, despite the similarity in control to the two domains.

...But those weren't the only options, now were they? They were certainly the two most obvious offensive uses of Jupiter Psynergy, but had they not recently learned about another, even more devastating alternative?

The girl looked down at her hands, holding them slightly apart. Wind and lightning were borne of differences, each a result of allowing nature to stabilize itself. Did light work the same way? She briefly considered closing her eyes, but decided against it, not wanting to trip over something. Instead, she focused on the area between her palms, trying to shift the light to the right side.

After almost a minute of concentration, though, she saw no results. She switched tactics, instead trying to pull the shadows to the left, wondering if it worked that way. Another minute later she met with the same result. Biting back her frustration, she turned her palms up, staring at them. What was she supposed to do? How did light even fall under Jupiter's control? Many times she had watched Jenna call light to her hand, rending torches useless to them.

It was not normal light, she realized. Clotho had not controlled a glow, but an energy, one with enough power to burn whatever it touched. Burning also fell under Mars' control, though she conceded that lightning could burn, as well. She remembered Felix telling Jenna that ice could burn, as well, though in a different manner.

Sheba frowned. Something tickled at the back of her mind as she recalled the conversation, shortly before they had reached Prox. She could see Felix rolling his eyes at something Jenna had said, something about being the best at burning anything. He told her to be careful, otherwise she would find herself surprised...

No, that didn't matter, she thought, shaking her head. What had brought on the conversation? They had encountered a pair of strange monsters, some giant shelled lizards in the ice floes. She remembered Jenna incinerating them completely, which had triggered her boasts. How had she done that? Their heads reached up to the deck of the Kailani, far too large to completely-

All at once the full memory returned. She saw Jenna, shouting at the top of her lungs, insulting the lizards' parents or something. The girl had that gleeful battle grin on her face as she hopped up onto the railing, much to Felix's displeasure. The sudden burst of cold as she gathered all the heat around her struck Sheba in the chest solidly, pulling the air right out of her lungs. Everything darkened for a moment except for Jenna; the girl shone like a campfire in the dead of night.

She unleashed everything she had gathered at the giant turtle, Psynergy flowing out of her in a great beam of burning, white energy. When it subsided a few moments later, not only had the lizard vanished entirely, a thick layer of steam drifted over a wide gap in the ice.

That's it, Sheba thought. That's what it is.

She stopped suddenly, causing Felix to spin around, his hand firmly wrapping around his sword. "What is it?" he asked.

"Hold on," she muttered. "I think I figured something useful out. Watch." The girl turned to the lake, holding out one of her hands. She took a deep breath, then closed her eyes, trusting Felix to keep watch for monsters. He would anyway, she knew.

She reached into her mind, pulling forth the power of Jupiter stored there. Rather than shape it, influencing the world around her, she merely moved it. She imagined a wind, running through the canyons of her limbs, funneling into the palm of her hand. It carried with it her thoughts, clearing her mind of all distractions. The slight breeze drifting lazily across the lake fell still, the energy creating it absorbed into her body. Even the sound of the small waves hitting the shore dimmed, as did the chirps of the early morning birds that surrounded her.

Felix's sharp intake of breath told of her success. She slowly opened her eyes, finding her hand glowing white, in the same manner Clotho's had in Lemuria. She smiled slightly, careful to avoid pouring too much power into the Psynergy with a teleportation so recent; Jenna had practically written the book for that lesson.

It would do. She loosed her hold on the energy in a single thought, gently nudging it in the direction her hand pointed. A white bolt of light shot from her palm, piercing through both the dark morning and the still surface of the lake. It lasted only a fraction of a second, but still enough to leave an afterimage cutting across her eyes. A trail of steam rose up from the epicenter of the lake's new ripples, curling up and vanishing as it spread out.

Sheba stared out at the rising steam for a few moments, her hand remaining outstretched. Some part of her mind vaguely recognized that her mouth had fallen open, but the rest of it simply ignored the fact. Once the stunned sensation wore off, she spun around to Felix, nearly jumping with glee. "Did you see that? Did you see that?"

"It was hard to miss," he murmured, still watching the impact point on the lake's surface. "You figured it out then?"

The girl nodded, unable to contain the grin on her face. "It's not light at all! It's just pure Jupiter energy, that's all! It- oh!" She likely would have simply continued her rant, but all at once she remembered her actual reason for being out here. "We should keep going, though. I don't want us to be late."

Felix raised an eyebrow at the comment, but turned and resumed walking with her nonetheless. "Do you think this will help you get over your issue with lightning?" he asked.

Sheba stumbled slightly, catching herself without any trouble. "Um, what?"

"Sheba, I'm not an idiot," he said, causing her cheeks redden slightly as she looked down. A few moments of awkward silence passed before Felix sighed. "I'm sorry, that came out harsher than I meant. I've known about your lightning issue since we found the Myrtle, though."

"I... I didn't want to worry you with it," she muttered, looking out at the lake.

Felix grabbed her arm and stopped. "Sheba. Look at me."

She reluctantly turned back to him, feeling like a child about to be sternly talked to for sneaking a cookie. She bit her lip slightly as she looked up at him. He towered over her even more than her father did, and his face carried an expression identical to the one Faran used for such situations.

Evidently he realized this, Sheba noticed; only Isaac could shift his body language so radically to react to people unconsciously. Felix's expression softened, and then much to Sheba's surprise, he grabbed one of her hands and dropped to a knee. She felt her heart flutter once, but her head swiftly booted it back down with some common sense.

"I know you're trying to help me," he said quietly. "I know you don't want to be seen as weak. I don't really want to bring you into any of this, but I know you'll just come anyway. If you're going to help us, though, I need to know exactly what I can count on you to do. I spent a lot of time learning it, for all of you, and that's the cornerstone of many of my decisions."

He gestured with a nod towards the lake. "Knowing you've figured that out is great. The more you can do with your Psynergy, the safer I feel about you. But if you're having trouble with something, I need to know that, too. You almost died in that cave because you kept that a secret from me. We all almost died. You see that, don't you?"

Sheba nodded meekly. "I didn't mean to get anyone hurt."

"I know you didn't," Felix said. "But even good intentions can cause a lot of problems."

The girl stared down at him for a minute, idly noticing how odd it felt for their positions to be reversed, then lunged forward suddenly. She threw her arms around Felix's neck, settling her chin onto them. After a moment, she pulled back awkwardly. "S-sorry. I didn't... I know you don't think of me the same..."

Felix smiled and stood back up, stepping forward and pulling the girl back towards him in a hug. She wrapped her arms around him again and closed her eyes, pressing the side of her face into his chest. "I kicked down the front gate of the Anemoi palace to rescue you, Sheba," he murmured. "I don't think a hug is going to bother me."

She chuckled from inside his embrace, then slowly stepped back. "Come on, we're almost there," she said with a smile.

They continued on for a short while in silence, to which Sheba had no objections. She suspected that if she said anything more, she would simply make fool of herself again, or burst into tears, or something equally ridiculous. Her emotions tumbled around inside of her, constantly battling for supremacy, and she frequently found herself forcibly suppressing one, only to fend off the attack of another mere seconds later.

None of which would help resolve anything with Felix, of course. He had spoken his thoughts on the matter in Yallam and she had accepted them. She would not push him into anything. Doing so would likely only force him away, at any rate. All she could do was spend time with him, and hope that someday he grew to feel the same, or else she moved on.

She really, really hoped for the former.

They reached the bridge with not long to spare, Sheba noticed. The sky had lightened considerably already, no longer tinged yellow by Venus' light. As she reached the wide, wooden structure, she slowly reached out and touched one railing with her hand, remembering the chaos around her last visit here.

For a moment, the sharp crack of thunder echoed from within her own mind, but she pushed it aside. That day had nothing to do with her trip here. She stepped up onto the bridge, gesturing for Felix to follow, and led him over to the railing that overlooked the ocean. "This is the Nol River," she said, then nodded towards the falls just ahead. "It dumps directly into the sea right down there."

Felix stopped beside her, leaning on the railing. "I remember coming through here...before."

Sheba glanced over at him, then looked back to the sea. The light had colored the water blue now, leaving sunrise only minutes away. She glanced to the east, finding it cloudless. Lemuria's eternal bank of fog would have interfered had they been only a short distance further south, but the sun rose just before the murk began.

"I used to... I would come here a lot, after we all went home," she said after a minute. "My parents were worried. I never showed much interest in any of my studies. How could I? They were boring, more than before. I didn't want to sit in a building and read about the history of Suhalla. I wanted to explore it, to see what I could find. I wanted to spend days with Piers, hearing about Lemuria, or learning how to navigate by the stars. I wanted to spend time with Jenna, who had become my best friend in ways my ones back home could never hope to."

She swallowed. "I... I wanted to spend time with you. That was all. I just wanted to be near you, to hear your stories as we walked, to talk about the people and places we had seen together by the campfire. In some ways, I wished we'd never restored Alchemy." The girl shook her head, leaning down onto the railing. "I was ready to leave. I did leave. I made it all the way here before the thoughts of my family finally turned me back. I couldn't leave them like that, with no warning, especially Javen. He wouldn't understand."

Felix said nothing, for which Sheba found herself very grateful. Once she started talking, she found it much easier. "I can't stay here, though. There's nothing here. Even if I were to take charge of Lalivero, so what? We're a bunch of gatherers, hunters, and fishers. We don't do anything that really needs a leader. Before all this," she waved her hand vaguely out at the ocean, hoping Felix understood her meaning, "I probably could have. But knowing what's out there, I never could now."

She fell silent, unsure of how to continue, or even if she needed to say anything further. Felix seemed to pick up on this and asked, "Are you sure that's what you really want?" When she looked over at him in confusion, he continued. "If I were to change my mind and live here, for the rest of my life, would you still want to leave?"

The girl pondered on that for a long moment. "No, I guess I wouldn't. I mean, I don't want you to think I'm just going to follow you around!" she added frantically. "It's not like that! I just... I... I love you, Felix," she said softly, the words continuing to feel strange coming out of her mouth. "I... Oh, I don't know. I don't know what I want anymore."

She felt an arm drape around her shoulders. "You could stay here with me, if I did that, but I don't think you'd be happy, Sheba. You're similar to me in that; you need to be doing something. You might be fine with sitting back for a short time, but you'll get bored. Our difference is that you want to share your adventure with someone. It doesn't necessarily need to be with me. You would probably stay here with Jenna, too. Am I right?"

Sheba nodded slowly. "But what about my family? Why don't I want to stay with them?"

"Because you've only shared a normal life with them," Felix said. "You need someone who can appreciate your thrill for excitement, who can stand with you as an equal. Your parents will never be like that. Their time for that has passed. Someday, Javen might, depending on how he grows, and what he does, but he's still too young to join you now."

"Maybe you're right," she said quietly. "There's... There's something different in how I feel when I'm with you, or Jenna, or Garet, or anyone, than when I'm with people here."

"Remember when we talked about love?" Felix asked. "There are many different kinds, you know. In this case, here's love of a friend, and then there's love of a comrade. They can overlap, for certain, but you share different things with them, create different bonds."

Sheba opened her mouth to say something further, but the sun chose that moment to peek over the horizon. Light spilled across the ocean in a golden wave, washing past them in a warm glow. The girl closed her mouth and smiled, pointing out at the edge of the waterfall.

Plumes of mist always rose from the basin below in great clouds, spreading outward as they slowly faded. When the light struck them, it fractured, arcing across the edge of the waterfall in a shimmering, vivid rainbow. It wavered slightly as the mist rose in a never ending cycle.

"I saw this that morning," she said softly, leaning her head against Felix's chest. She reached up with her hand and gently placed it over the one that still rested on her shoulder. "I kept coming back to see it, waiting for the day I could show it to you."

"It's beautiful," Felix muttered, then fell silent.

Sheba understood. She needed no words, either.

- \/\/ -

As Piers reached the top of the stairs, the morning sun shone in his face through the triple-pane windows. As he raised a hand to block the sudden light and glanced around, he found Jenna sitting at the table with Madrona and Altefeuer, her hands holding Madrona's dagger. The girl raised the small blade up to her face, turning and angling it, watching the flames dance along its sharp edges.

He joined the trio at the table, seating himself with polite greetings. Before he could ask anything, Jenna turned to him. "Madrona thinks this might be what we're looking for," she said, holding up the dagger for him to see.

Piers glanced over at the midwife. "Isn't that just from the hydra's flame sac? I would have thought it to have burned out by now."

"Hydra nectar burns low, but burns for a long time," Madrona said, holding her hand out to take the blade back. "We tend to use it more for our oil lamps inside, mixing it with tree sap for outside use in lanterns. It burns brighter then, but not as long."

"It's also very sweet," Altefeuer added, smiling slightly. "Makes an excellent glaze, though it takes much caution to cook with. Too much heat, and everything ignites."

Madrona gave the man a long glance, then turned to the window to her left. "I've spoken to Einion about it. He's never attempted infusing a blade with pure Mars energy, but he agrees that it could work."

Piers frowned. "You don't have any already, then? Leftover from the golden age, perhaps?"

The woman turned her hawkish eyes on him. "What use would we have for swords that control fire? We can do that plenty well on our own."

"Of that I have no doubt," Piers said calmly. He had seen the woman intimidate Isaac, but the Valean always found aggressive people intimidating. Piers might have been - how had she said it? - stoically aloof, but he found few people capable of bullying him. Madrona meant no harm by it, he knew; it was simply how she lived. "You've seen the boost such a blade can give, however. Isaac's aided his Venus powers significantly."

Madrona's mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. "Perhaps," she admitted after a few moments of silence. "We know of no such swords, though. They've all likely been lost to time."

"Was our other blade of no use?" Altefeuer asked. "I heard of the troubles you braved to retrieve it. I would hate for them to have been a waste."

Jenna shook her head at the elder. "We just haven't figured it out yet. Isaac says he thinks he almost had it, but the sword didn't judge him worthy, or something. He said the feeling was really confusing. How does a sword judge you, anyway?"

The old man sighed. "There are many things we do not know about that blade, save what the legends wrote. Perhaps it is best that they remain secrets."

"That's enough about swords for now," Puelle said as he approached the table with Hama, both carrying several plates of food. "I don't allow two things at meals: disrespect towards the cook and talk of swords."

Jenna looked up in confusion. "Why no talking about swords?"

"Because it usually just winds up turning into an argument about the best kind," the man said, moving opposite Hama to set the plates down. "Nothing good ever comes of it."

"Fair enough," Jenna said, her eyes on the food. Piers could practically see her mouth watering.

Not that he could blame her. Proxians held large breakfasts while the temperature was still cold, allowing them short lunches to maximize the time work could be done before sunset. As with every culture's largest meal, their best dishes showed up during it, leaving visitors often imagining how wonderful the other two meals must be.

Lunch, however, generally tended to be nothing more than leftovers from breakfast, and supper was a light meal, meant to last one until sleep. A Proxian breakfast, however, could rival the banquets held in other cities. They had learned ways to utilize fish and meat that few other cultures had, having little in the way of vegetables or other growable products. Some light trade with Loho and the small island of Kalt had begun to help with that, but time would improve those lines.

While Puelle had only banned talk of swords, they shared the meal in silence regardless. Once they finished, Piers quickly found himself in quiet conversation with Puelle. His conversation with Einion had evidently been shared with Prox's leader, who found the idea very much to his liking.

To his side, Madrona asked Jenna about her parents and brother, wondering about the former's health and why the latter had not returned for a visit. The woman tsked and criticized him for the excuses Jenna offered, though Piers noted her tone lacked the disdain she had often spoken to Isaac with. "The Durants have been worried sick about him," she said. "They don't like getting reports from anyone but him about his wellbeing."

Hama frowned as she looked over. "Are they not aware of how occupied he is right now?"

Madrona shrugged. "They're old." After a small cough from Altefeuer, she pursed her lips and added, "And unlike the present company, they're not all there anymore."

"Ma," Puelle said reproachfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't even start. I love them as much as you do, but they've lost the means to do much more than take care of the young ones."

"It is a great tragedy indeed," Altefeuer agreed. "To see their minds wither before their bodies... I've only seen it a few times. I'm unsure whether to call them fortunate or not."

Piers frowned. "They still live, though. I could understand if they suffered in agony daily, with no hope of respite, but the fact that they yet live should always be a blessing."

The old man nodded, leaning back and gently running his fingers through his thick, green beard. "There is truth in your words. Life is always a blessing, to be sure. But is the continuation of life the same?"

The Lemurian sat forward, folding his arms on the table. "I'm not sure what you mean, elder. Do you mean to say that they might be better off by passing?"

"Better off?" Altefeuer paused for a moment, considering the words. "No, I don't believe so. As we agree, life is always a blessing, and Tiamat leaves surprises for us around every corner. We can never hope to foretell how a life will go, or make a judgment whether it should be worth continuing."

Piers noted that the rest of the table had fallen silent, five pairs of eyes on them. He belatedly realized that Einion had entered at some point, silently, but had decided against speaking yet. Piers opened his mouth to express his confusion again, but Altefeuer continued, evidently having just paused for thought again.

"We cannot, at least, but I fully believe the gods can," he said. "Tell me, Piers, can death not be a blessing as well?"

He felt his body tighten slightly in the chair. Breathing deep, he slowly relaxed his muscles, forcing his mind into a neutral area. "No," he said after a few moments of silence. "No, I do not believe so. I may be a warrior, but I have never considered my enemy's death to be a good thing, merely the least deplorable outcome."

Altefeuer shook his head. "Again, we are in agreement. It was not of death in battle that I meant, however, or even death by the hand of man." He frowned for a moment, then said, "I have known the Durants nearly my entire life. I played with them when we were children, many years ago. I remember their wedding, the loss of their first child, the birth of their first grandchild... They have been great friends to me these long years."

He sighed and turned his eyes down to the table. "They remember these things as well...for now. If I ask them about what they did last week, or bring up a conversation we had then, they do not. That gap of memory will spread. They will be unable to remember more than five days prior, or three days, until eventually, they will live entirely in the present, incapable of recalling previous encounters. Nor will it stop there. The memories ingrained deeply upon their hearts will fade as well, until nothing is left. They will be nothing but a blank slate, mere shadows of their former selves, of people that once loved and danced and sang and built."

The elder raised his gaze back to Piers, and the man found it free of accusation. "Have you ever watched a man break down into tears when his own mother no longer recognizes him? Have you ever had to lie to a widow who asks about her departed husband every day, because you can no longer bear to watch her break down again every time you tell her the truth?"

Piers opened his mouth briefly, then closed it again. What could he say to that? The waters of Lemuria kept his people healthy, until the distant day when their bodies failed. Only those born with unfortunate conditions left them early, or those who experienced unfortunate accidents. He looked into Altefeuer's tired eyes and felt like a child again before the age in them.

"I understand your thoughts," the Proxian said quietly. "I would never wish harm on them, of course. Sometimes, though... Sometimes, I wonder if the gods might show mercy to them. I wonder if their continued life will have meaning, or just result in a constant, ever growing torture for those close to them."

An uncomfortable silence fell in the house, the crackle of the fire the only audible sound. Piers looked down at his folded hands on the table. Mercy... The word twisted inside him. Had he not made that same choice once? Had he not attempted to play the gods and give a mercy, one crueler than death itself?

Einion cleared his throat. "We need to get going," he said, looking at Piers.

Piers raised his eyes again. "Where to?" The moment the words left his mouth, he knew the answer. "The lighthouse."

Nodding, the blacksmith said, "Gonna take more than what I can give to make this thing. We'll do it in the lighthouse. Need you to help pull the sleigh there."

"Of course," Piers said immediately. "Whatever I can help with. Do we need to gather any other supplies first?"

Einion shook his head as he turned back to the door. "Got Liam on that. Travel light. We've got a lot to bring. Come over to the smithy when you're ready."

Piers glanced towards the wall where his Trident rested, briefly considering leaving it behind and just taking his dagger. After a moment, though, he abandoned the thought. That close to Mars, his Psynergy would be dampened, forcing him to rely on physical combat more if they were attacked. Besides, his Trident followed him at all times now.

He stood up, thanking Puelle for the breakfast, then rebuffed Jenna's pleas to come with them. "Why?" she asked, her arms crossing her chest as a scowl crossed her face. "Is this some manly men thing? Girls can't help?"

Madrona raised an eyebrow, a small smile curving her lips up slightly. "Jenna, if Ein didn't want your help, it's because he's got everyone he needs already. He knows what they need, don't worry."

The girl's scowl lingered on, so Piers reached over and wrapped one arm around her waist, then lifted her off the floor slightly. "Tell you what? You do this to me, and you can help us. Deal?"

When he dropped her back to the ground, she merely stared at him for a moment. "You swear?"

"I do," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

Jenna narrowed her own suspiciously, then stepped over to Piers, wrapping one arm around his waist in the same way he had done previously. She bent her knees, inhaled sharply, then pulled her arm tight and pushed against the floor. Piers felt the girl's muscles tense and strain as she exhaled, but he only moved sideways slightly.

After a moment's effort, she released her grip on him and scowled again. "Not fair. You're too fat."

The Lemurian grinned at her, then moved to the wall and picked up his overcoat, throwing it around him. "Muscle weighs more than fat, Jenna. Maybe you should use the time to build some more." He pulled on a pair of gloves, a woolen hat, and fixed the Trident across his back, then winked at her before stepping out into the snow.

- \/\/ -

Kraden gently shut the door behind him, thanking the doctor quietly. The man walked away, leaving Kraden in the hall with Ivan and Isaac. Ivan peered past the scholar at the closed door, then asked. "Is it wise to leave her alone?"

He shrugged. "We know the power she's capable of, even while injured like this. If she wanted to do anything, none of us being there would help."

"We still need to talk to her," Isaac said firmly. "I want to hear her story before I make any judgments."

Ivan shook his head. "It smells like a trap. I don't like it. I don't like her being here."

"Would you send her away then?" Kraden asked, peering over the edge of his glasses at him. "Would you ignore her wounds, which are real, I assure you, and tell her to go back? If she was an ally now, doing so would surely change that."

The boy frowned, turning away to look down the empty hallway. Kraden had sent Iodem away, along with several of the people who worked in the palace, as soon as he received word of Atropos' arrival. The man had publicized the act as another step in his efforts to rebuild Tolbi, but Ivan saw through the charade: he wanted the two leaders of Tolbi separated.

Just in case.

Ivan admired the scholar's ability to simultaneously treat the woman as both harmless and the greatest threat the city had seen in recent years. He found himself unable to think of her in any other fashion than that of an Anemian King, biding her time for...something.

It bothered him. Clotho had entered Lemuria brashly, only hiding his true intention behind small talk as a game, never showing weakness or timidity. Even in Anemos, he openly mocked them, his pride eventually leading to his downfall. Atropos, however, arrived with a whisper, placing herself in their hands entirely. She had passed out shortly after being brought inside.

Garet stood nearby for a long time, his sword drawn and held tightly in his hands, staring at the unconscious woman. Ivan knew his dilemma. To kill Atropos in her sleep would have been simple, quick, and with little blame. Garet spent three hours in her room as the doctor arrived and went to work, saying nothing. In the dark hours of the morning, the man finally left, his blade still clean.

The idea had not been exclusive to him. When he opened the door to leave, he found Ivan sitting against the opposite wall, his sword in his lap. His mind had entertained many dark thoughts as night settled in around him, but in the end, he could not find the nerve. Felix and Alex had been the only one to meet her in battle, and both had described the encounter to be inconclusive about her strength or intent. She showed little interest in stopping them then, or in helping Clotho later.

Much as he believed the whole situation to be a trap, he could not murder her in her sleep without being certain. She had never been aggressively hostile towards them, only in reaction. He had tried to imagine how he would feel if a group of people suddenly forced their way into his home, threatening to steal one of the royal children.

He still did not trust her.

But then again, he spent the better part of a year mistrusting Felix, as well.

Ivan sighed through his nose and turned back to Kraden. "You're right, I'm sorry. We don't have much choice in the situation, do we?"

"We always have a choice, Ivan," the scholar said gently. "But we also need to remember that our choices always have repercussions. In this situation, yes, our best course of action for now is to wait. If you are right, however, keep in mind that she knows this. She has hundreds of years of experience working against us. Be cautious of your words and actions. She may simply be here to gather information on the foes that defeated one thought to be invincible."

Isaac nodded slowly. "In which case, she'll want to talk to me."

"In which case, we should avoid that," Ivan said immediately, looking over at his friend. "I'll talk to her."

Unease immediately covered Isaac's face. "I don't know if I like that. Maybe Garet should go with you, or Kraden."

Ivan shook his head. "Garet wants no part of this. He knows as well as I do that he would likely give things away without realizing. The only thing he could do here would be to stand in the corner and scowl menacingly."

"And I would just be a liability," Kraden said. "My mind would be completely open to her, and I would be none the wiser."

Isaac sighed, cracking his knuckles, and glanced at the door again. "I still don't like this."

"There's not a whole lot to like about the situation," Ivan said quietly, secretly feeling the same. He hated the thought of being in the same room as that woman without Isaac or Garet to support him. "But right now, it's our best course of action."

The Valean's frown deepened as he turned back to Ivan, crossing his arms across his chest. The Proxian sword and his Venus-imbued sword peered from above each shoulder, and Ivan wondered how he managed carrying both swords everywhere. Though he had abandoned his habit of carrying it everywhere after the previous night, Ivan remembered well how much Dullahan's sword weighed him down when he tried wearing it all day.

His eyes met Ivan's, and the boy found his expression one typically found on Felix, instead. "I'll be right outside," he said, moving to lean back against the wall.

Ivan thanked him quietly, then turned to Kraden. The old man said nothing, but gave him a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder instead. Ivan nodded to him, handed him the slender blade on his waist, then stepped forward. He stared at the door for a long moment, taking slow, deep breaths, forcing his body into a calm state. Thoughts not about Atropos pushed to the edges of his mind, then spilled over, vanishing down into the forgotten depths of his consciousness.

It took another minute, but with his mind focused, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The bed lay against the far wall, opening up the small floor space for room to move, likely at the doctor's request. The blond woman lay on her back, her head propped up with several pillows. She had her head turned to the side, gazing out the window at the late Tolbi morning. Despite the reconstruction efforts, Ivan could still see several black craters from the palace. He suddenly wished they had placed her in one of the northern rooms, instead.

She did not move when he shut the door, or even acknowledge his presence. He stood in silence for some time, watching her. Her clothes, ones of beautiful, white silk, had been stained crimson with her blood and sat in a pile in the corner. Instead, she wore an unremarkable nightshirt, vanishing beneath the covers at her waist. Bandages covered a portion of her right arm, her head, and though he could not see them, Ivan knew they would be across her abdomen, as well.

The king herself seemed pale, though Ivan could not say if she normally appeared so. He suspected blood loss contributed to at least part of it. Much of it still clung to her golden hair, turning rust-colored as it dried. The image brought memories of a dream back to the surface, of a different blond with blood in his hair. He forced them back down, as he did with the shudder that arose from them.

A different, more relevant dream took its place. Ivan had only seen Atropos briefly during their assault on Anemos, during a battle and at a distance. Recognizing the palace from his dream had been the only reason he connected her with the dream-woman, but even now, he found the connection difficult. The Atropos in the dream had appeared feral, cruel, and manic, though Ivan admitted being so close to death might bring out otherwise uncommon traits.

The woman lying on the bed exhibited none of those characteristics. Her eyes moved only as she scanned them across the city, while her expression remained that of the utmost calm and patience. She held her hands high on her chest, folded together. When he looked past the emotions, however, the twisting of features that such rage always induced, he saw the resemblance clearly.

Atropos, King of Anemos, had been in his dream.

As if responding to his confirmation, the woman spoke without moving. "Your city has grown beautiful. It is far larger than I remember."

"It's not my city," Ivan said automatically. "You wouldn't know mine."

Atropos turned to look at him. "No, I doubt I would. Clotho said that most of the old cities had faded, apparently fracturing into small villages. Tolbi was one of the few that remained. In my time, it was known as the City of Peace, founded during the Great War. People banded together in an attempt to build a neutral city, one established for the refugees of the clans. It was believed that by setting such an example, they might inspire a truce."

Ivan watched the woman for a moment, debating with himself mentally, but eventually his curiosity won out. He stepped to the desk and dragged the chair over towards her bed, planting it a moderate distance away, then sat down. "What happened?"

The woman met his eyes and Ivan felt his stomach drop slightly. He knew what happened. "The Mars Clan scorched the city. They laid waste to it for six days, and on the seventh, they left it a smoking ruin."

"I've heard stories of that," Ivan said quietly. "But all our books just speak of a fire that destroyed most of the town. They say nothing of the Mars Clan."

"History is written by the victors," Atropos said, closing her eyes slowly.

Ivan nodded, saying nothing. He understood the hidden meaning behind her words, whether she intended them or not. He had accepted the gravity of their situation long ago, but at the times when its significance pressed on him, he still found it difficult to breathe. The boy closed his own eyes for a moment, clearing his mind of the distractions. Focus, Ivan.

The room sat in silence for a few minutes, but eventually he could stand it no more. "Why did you come here?"

Atropos opened her eyes again, looking at Ivan. "For help. My king did not appreciate the loss of Clotho when he returned."

"Your king? I thought you were a king," Ivan said slowly.

"I am," she said. "He is senior to me, though, and now, the true ruler of Anemos. I and Clotho could override a decision of his, but only together. Now, I am powerless while the triumvirate lies broken."

Ivan frowned. The math added up, he supposed. Except... "Why is there no new king? Don't you have anything in place in case one dies without an heir?"

Atropos nodded, then flinched in pain. For a moment, Ivan forgot an enemy lay before him. He immediately stood up and walked to her nightstand, grabbing the glass of some thick tea the doctor had left, supposedly to dull her pain, and handed it to her. "Ah... Thank you," she said, carefully raising it and sipping slowly for a full minute. Once she finished, he placed the tea back onto the table and sat down again. "We do, yes," she continued, as if no interruption had occurred. "One of the other king's children will inherit the empty throne, but not until they prove themselves worthy of it. No prince can ascend until they have earned the Wings of Anemos and demonstrated the will of a leader."

The name sounded familiar, and not simply because of the wings attached to the Kailani. "The Wings... Those are your wings, right? I remember hearing that all of the Anemian Kings have wings."

She nodded again, this time without apparent pain. "Yes. They first appear in a moment of strength, or dedication, or willpower, typically during early adulthood. They mark for us that a prince has grown sufficiently enough to rule."

"But none of the princes have earned theirs, yet," Ivan said.

"No," Atropos said. "My daughters are the eldest, and I believe they may be close, and would side with me...but Sheba's brother is forceful. Despite his youth, he is strong-willed, determined to rule, and very intelligent. I believe he will earn his Wings early, and if he earns them before my own daughters, I will remain powerless."

The woman hesitated for a moment, then continued. "That was why I wanted Sheba there. I know she would support me against her father, if she reached the throne first. Having her in Anemos would raise the chances of removing Lachesis from power."

"Is he really so cruel?" Ivan asked. "Why does he want this war, anyway? There are no clans left to oppose him."

"He's..." Atropos paused, considering her words. "He's hard. He rules well, but strictly, and does great things for Anemos. It was his idea to build our own lighthouse and take to the skies. But he has an excellent memory, and he remembers the war. He remembers how it tore Weyard apart, and he believes this to be the best course of action for eventual peace."

"We had peace," Ivan said, feeling anger rise into his voice. "Everything was fine until you returned and started attacking."

"You did, but for how long?" she asked quietly. "As people grew accustomed to their new power, conflict would have arisen, then grown."

The bandits on the outskirts of Tolbi immediately appeared in Ivan's mind. Had they not threatened him with recently learned Psynergy? Had Piers not spent months stranded because of a newly discovered ability of one he trusted? "That doesn't mean genocide is the right answer," he said in the same tone. "Clotho used the same logic to attack a king who merely wanted peace for his people, too."

Atropos snorted, an odd break from the calm and polite demeanor she had exhibited so far. "Clotho was a violent fool. He viewed the world as his experiment, a toy for him to poke and prod and see how it reacted. He was incapable of empathizing with another person. Lachesis... Lachesis is different. He makes his decisions fully aware of their ramifications, but sets aside his feelings for those of his people."

"And he attacked you for jeopardizing them?" Ivan asked. "I don't see how. Did he expect Clotho to lose?"

"Not at all, none of us did," she said. "But he laid the responsibility on me for it. I knew how brash Clotho was. How inexperienced he was, despite his age. He... I've never seen him so furious," she added quietly.

A pang of sorrow ran through Ivan, and he found himself unable to quash it entirely. After a moment of focus, he pushed it aside, clearing his mind again. "What brought you here?"

"A dream," Atropos said, turning back to the window. "One I failed to recognize the significance of until it was almost too late."

Ivan shoved aside the cold lump that formed in his stomach He briefly weighed the risk of speaking his mind, then nodded. "Then we seem to have a common ground," he said calmly. "A dream I had warned of a fight with you." The images came to mind automatically at his thought of the dream, fire and blood marring the beautiful palace hall.

Atropos did not respond for a long moment, though her eyes sat unfocused and unmoving. "It was the redhead, wasn't it? The Mars Adept. I had a similar dream."

"How can I trust you, then?" he asked. "How could I, now that I know what will happen?"

She sighed, dropping her head and closed her eyes again. "A vision does not dictate the necessary future, only a possible one."

Ivan frowned, sitting forward slightly. "What do you mean?"

"The future is always in motion," she said. "If we saw these visions, but were unable to act, they would proceed as seen. By being given that glimpse, though, it affects the choices we make. If you have a vision, for example, of yourself dying at a specific location, you would avoid that location at all costs, correct? Your vision would then never come to pass."

"So you're saying this dream won't happen?"

Atropos shook her head. "No. When Clotho asked me to leave, I could have refused. I considered it, actually. Had I stayed, it would have led to the conflict we both saw."

"Why didn't you, then?" Ivan asked. If he had seen her making a choice, wouldn't that have been the expected choice, unless he acted on it?

The woman smiled slightly, opening her eyes and looking up at him again. "It was your friends, actually. I happened to meet them on the roof, and saw their dedication to Sheba firsthand. It...made me question my plan. Not enough to help them, but enough to remain neutral. Had I not met them, I would have remained near Clotho, at least. I doubt you would have used the same tactics in that case."

Ivan considered it. If they were not certain Atropos would not interfere, what would they have done? A variation of the same plan, likely. Sheba would have fled, but Felix would have remained behind, for sure, to ensure her getaway. He could not predict anything further than that, but the Garet likely would have stayed, as well.

Moreover, her words held a deeper meaning. Hama had told him the dream's outcomes could be changed, sometimes, but he never realized the choice weighed entirely on him. He knew he could catalyze such changes, with the help of others, but alone? How could he change some of the things he had seen?

The king's explanation of possible futures also explained discrepancies in some of his dreams. Despite witnessing the deaths (or their aftermath, rather) of several of his friends, they lacked consistency. He had witnessed all of them mourning the passing of Kraden, alive, yet then seen a few surviving members attacking Lachesis, with Kraden alive. Were those two paths available to him?

The gears of his mind spun again, making a small whirring sound to him as they did. He tried to call back as many dreams as he could, organizing them in his head. He stacked the images, shifting them around, discarding the ones that he knew were not visions. Some stood alone, such as his dream of Deadbeard, but others fell into a pattern.

Alex and Mia. It had started there. Hama had helped him to realize it did not necessarily mean he killed her, but she did admit it seemed to indicate he would be responsible for her death. Isaac and Piers, however, seemed deliberately murdered. All three were absent in his dream of attacking Lachesis, as was Sheba, a thought that made him shiver, but he knew how that fight would end: both Alex and Lachesis dead.

Yet on another path, Kraden would die, a path Ivan had not yet seen an outcome to. Were those the only two choices open to him? Was he forced to choose between which of his friends would die?

He shook his head as he stood up, numbly thanking Atropos for speaking to him. He paused at the door, his entire body cold and unresponsive. He found himself unable to open it, unable to look at the people on the other side.

They could win the war.

But it would cost his friends their lives.

- \/\/ -

The sun glittered upon the endless snowfields of Imil, turning the plains to diamonds. Mia stared across the snow wistfully as she walked the path to the lighthouse, a large, leather bag on her back. Even compared to the green rolling hills of Contigo, the majestic peaks of Altin, and the tropical paradise of Apojii, she found herself surprised at how much she preferred the sight of white and blue. Acres of fresh, unblemished snow lay all around her, the cold incapable of reaching her through the layers of clothing.

A snowball whizzed by her head, shattering the serenity of the walk. "If one of you hits me, you will be carrying so much water back that you won't be able to walk for three days."

A glove quickly stifled a giggle from behind her. Mia glanced over her shoulder sternly to find Justin covering Megan's mouth, somehow managing to look completely innocent and painfully guilty at the same time. She stared at them for a few seconds, making her point silently, then turned forward again, shaking her head.

"Always such a stick in the mud," Alex murmured from beside her, not looking up from the black book he carried.

Mia snorted. "I'm not very partial to letting snow drip down into my robes. You know how long that takes to dry."

"I never said it was enjoyable," he said, glancing over at her with a smirk. "Only that you have such a penchant for ruining children's fun everywhere. It's always been a special talent of yours."

"And making trouble has always been one of yours," she said, shaking her head. A thousand memories instantly came to mind of her convincing Alex not to do something foolish, and a thousand more of him ignoring her warnings.

A high-pitched squeal dashed past her, and much to Mia's surprise, she found a pair of pigtails in pursuit, rather than the source. Whatever Justin did to earn the girl's sudden ferocity, he evidently had done it well; she followed him a full half-mile up the road before finally catching him, tossing the boy face-down into the snow, then sitting atop him triumphantly.

Mia laughed as she watched them wrestle shortly, before both simply flopped back into the snow, exhausted. "It's scary how much they remind me of us sometimes."

"Only when they're together," Alex said. "Justin is perfectly behaved when he's alone, but no one would ever have made the same claim of me."

"That's for certain," Mia muttered, rolling her eyes. Alex smiled, but said nothing, merely looking back down at the book. Mia glanced over at it warily. "Have you found anything of use in there yet?"

"Not quite," he said, his mouth turning down into a frown. "I've been trying to translate it, but my memory of the tribal writing is weak. It's coming back, but slowly. I can understand a few odd spells, and a good amount of the introductory pages."

Mia peered at the pages, but saw only squiggles, occasionally accompanied by a picture. "Did that have anything interesting?"

Alex shook his head. "Not particularly. It spoke much of honoring the Great Gabomba, their local deity, and of keeping one's mind clear while invoking, so as to avoid...irrationality is the closest I can come to describing it. It also speaks of means to draw more from the surroundings, and less from the self."

"Basic Psynergy tenets, then," Mia said, recognizing some of her father's lessons in the words. Conserve energy by drawing from the natural world first. Keep the mind free of distractions for clear and potent spells. She felt confident that the book likely spoke of the dangers of overdrawing from oneself, as well.

"The book itself is rather interesting, too," he continued. "It... It almost feels like an alchemy tool, but different. Rather than a single task, I believe the book takes the input to channel the spells within, which span the elements."

Mia frowned. "I didn't think they could do that. I've never seen one that could do multiple things."

Alex shook his head, sliding his finger into the current page and holding the book up with one hand. "Nor have I, but I believe this to be the case. I've only translated a few basic techniques, though I can't quite test my theory yet, as none of them are Mars-based."

"Are you sure it's safe?" she asked. "It won't do anyone much good if you die mysteriously, or something."

He smiled. "No, I don't sense any of the bloodlust that the sword held. I think it was simply locked up because... Well, once I understand how to read it, I suspect it will be dangerous...to my enemies. I can't imagine having heard stories about such a book that held useless abilities." The man eyed Mia for a moment. "You don't think I should use it."

Mia hesitated, then shook her head. "No. I'm hesitant to even use this," she said, holding up her hand, where the light-producing ring sat on her finger. "I wish we had just grabbed the sword and locked the door again."

"Your father's warning-" Alex began, but a raised hand from Mia cut him off.

"I know, most of the things there are simply dangerous in the wrong hands," she said. "I just don't like the risk we're taking, even though I know what we're up against."

Alex frowned, closing the book and placing it in a pack slung across his chest. "You're uncomfortable about it." He pursed his lips tightly for a moment. "It's not the book. It's what I can do with it. It's about Marie."

Mia looked away, not wanting him to see the guilt on her face. "I... Yes. It is."

Silence settled between the two, one that unnerved Mia. Such silences rarely occurred with her, especially with Alex. She could almost feel his anger in the still air, coupled with frustration. He would never lash out at her, she knew; rage did not exist in the man. Even as a child, he controlled his anger fiercely, focusing it and using it towards productive ends.

After a few minutes, he spoke. "Nothing I say will convince you otherwise, I assume."

"No," Mia said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I miss her too, but I just can't. It feels wrong to me, like-"

"Please," Alex said gently, cutting across her words. "I accept your resolve, and will make no more attempt to sway it. In return, I request you acknowledge my own and extend me the same courtesy. We're at an impasse, and I see no way for us to resolve it. Instead, let us simply ignore it."

Mia sighed softly. She wanted to speak to him, to plead with him to give up that goal. She wanted to grab him and shake him until he understood, then hold him close until he accepted it. She wanted to-

"Justin dumped snow down my back!"

The woman resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. "Justin..."

Before she could even give the word a moment to linger, the boy's hand snapped out, pointing at Megan. "She pushed my face into the snow first!"

"That's because you hit me in the face with a snowball!"

"You said the snow looked so pretty and that you would love to wear it!"

"I didn't mean-"

Alex appeared between the two shouting children suddenly, startling both of them into silence. "I'm sure we can all do without the theatrics, children. And while today might be a relatively sunny day, it is still very cold. I would also recommend waiting until the summer to get each other all wet, especially when you can't change out of your clothes for a while."

"It'll be just as cold in the summer," Justin mumbled, crossing his arms, scrunching up his face and trying to make it look like something other than a pout.

"Well, my experience with Imilian summers is limited, but I seem to remember them being significantly warmer than the winters," Alex said.

"But you've lived here until the past few years, haven't you?" Megan asked, looking up at him as he gently pushed them into walking again. "How did you miss the summers?"

Mia frowned in silence. The topic had turned to dangerous waters.

Alex seemed not to notice, or at least pretended not to. "The Mercury Clan has a long-standing tradition of sending its apprentices out into the world during the summer, the months where their skills are least required around Imil. Mia and I each spent a number of summers elsewhere."

"Wait, you went around the world when you were an apprentice?" Justin asked. "Where did you go?"

Alex sighed softly. "Let's see... Well, I made my first trip when I was eight, and-"

"Eight?" Justin nearly shouted, then whirled on Mia. "Why haven't we gone on a summer trip yet? We're almost ten!"

"I am ten," Megan muttered, shoving the boy to the side.

He stumbled to the side, but quickly moved back and opened his mouth again. Alex cut him off before he could start. "Because you didn't have anyone to take you. I went with your brother, Megan."

For a few moments, the only thing Mia could hear was the crunching of snow beneath their boots. "With Harry?" the young girl asked quietly.

Alex nodded. "You don't remember him, do you?"

"No," Megan said, shaking her head. "I wasn't even two. I don't even remember what he looked like."

Mia quickened her step for a second, then placed an arm around Megan's shoulder. "It's alright, that's not your fault. I don't remember what my mother looked like, either, and I was three when she died."

"In some ways, that can be it's own blessing," Alex said quietly, then raised his voice back to a normal speaking volume. "But that's not the important part. What truly matters is the legacy they leave behind, the effect they leave on those of us still here. I've been to a number of amazing places, Megan, but your brother made that the most spectacular summer I've ever experienced. Have you ever heard of the island of Nihan?"

Megan shook her head, but before she had even finished a single shake, Justin said, "Oh, I have! It's that one way to the east, right?"

Alex nodded again. "Good. Nihan is a fairly large island, but the people there don't care much for leaving it. They prefer to keep to themselves, so most people are unfamiliar with them. Harold decided that visiting such a foreign place would be good for me, since I often had difficulty in thinking creatively. I looked at everything as a process, sticking with the familiar. He believed spending time in a new culture, having to think and do everything in a new fashion, would help me."

"Did it?" Justin asked. Mia did not miss the quick glance he unintentionally threw at her, undoubtedly remembering her very similar criticism of him. She sighed to herself, knowing she would see the argument show up again in a few months, as summer approached.

Alex noticed the same, briefly catching her eyes and smiling. He winked at her so quickly she nearly missed it, an art he had perfected in his youth. "Very much so."

Mia grit her teeth together.

The man continued as if he had not noticed, a brilliant act if Mia had ever seen one. "We left a bit earlier than usual, to make up for the distance. On later trips, except for one I made to Indra, I tended to stay limited to Angara and northern Gondowan. I must say, though, when you've lived in a single town for your entire life, few things will be more memorable than your first trip."

"Weren't you scared?" Megan asked, her voice returned to its usual tone. Mia drew her arm back from the girl, before Megan could begin to shift uncomfortably and find some excuse to get herself out from beneath it.

"Not scared, per se..." Alex frowned, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "Anxious would be a better word. I knew there were dangerous things in the world, of course, but I knew Harold would protect me from them. I was more nervous about spending so much time in unfamiliar places, with unfamiliar people. I was stepping into the unknown, though I was very thankful to have a friend with me, even if I had to leave the rest behind for a while."

Mia smirked to herself. She remembered the night before Alex left that year. He had come to her room like a young child afraid of a storm, tears threatening to fall at the slightest of provocations. They sat on her bed well into the night as she held him, promising she would take care of Marie, that he absolutely should not back out of the trip. She had never spoken of that night, however, nor would she now. Some secrets had no business being revealed.

"There were so many firsts I remember," Alex continued. "My first night south of the mountains felt so strange, with no snow in sight. I'd seen a green summer a few years before, but it lasted only a week, and the clouds never left us. To see green as far as the eye can see, glowing golden in the sunlight and silver in the moonlight... What a sight, to one from a world of black, white, and blue. My first night in Bilibin, too. I had thought Imil to be the standard size of cities, but Bilibin quickly proved me wrong. Buildings sprawled out endlessly around me, sheltered behind layers of walls. I could see where the city had expanded as we went further in, finding inner walls that had no guards, abandoned in favor of the newer, outer walls."

"Why do they need walls?" Justin asked. "Are they at war with someone?"

Alex shook his head. "No, not at all. Not now, at least. Creatures further south are much less intimidated by human contact. The wolves, bears, and other animals here only wander into the town when hunger has pushed them beyond their normal limits, but around Bilibin, they see people outside the city far more often, and thus are less afraid. Walls are necessary to keep them out. It also prevents branded thieves from re-entering the city, another problem we don't share."

Yet, Mia thought, then immediately chastised herself for the pessimistic attitude. Imil would never have bandit problems, of course. Who would go that far north just to rob people, then probably die in the snow anyway?

Then again, why would anyone try to freeze them all to death by sleep?

"I wanted to stay longer," Alex said, looking up at the empty blue sky. "There was so much to see and experience, Harold nearly had to drag me away the following morning to board our ship. He said he understood how I felt, and that we might spend a few days there on the way back, but we had to be on that ship." He paused and pulled his eyes down towards the road. "That ship... I admit, my memories of that portion of the trip are anything but fond."

Megan giggled and said, "You got seasick, didn't you?"

Alex shook his head slowly. "Miserably. The trip downriver was uneventful, but once we hit the open ocean, I had a week of unpleasantness awaiting me. By the time I began to adapt to it, we had arrived, but I was kept occupied for the trip. Harold sat me down on the day we departed, going over some of the more significant social taboos of their culture, then having me repeat them every morning. He wanted me to learn their other cultural habits on my own, but not at the expense of ostracizing myself. It forced me to involve myself more thoroughly with the locals once we reached Izumo, rather than clinging to his side constantly."

"What sort of things did you do there?" Justin asked.

"Most of our time was spent learning all manners of things," Alex said. "Some I learned alone, such as local herbs and remedies from their healers, as Harold had learned them when he first visited, but others we did together, such as hunting. The wildlife on the island is significantly less dangerous than that around Imil, which made it a great place to learn basic hunting and survival skills. We also spent time learning basics of various other skills they had mastered, in the hopes of reproducing them back home, or at least putting the knowledge to good use sometime."

Alex waved his hand. "But the stories of what I learned are of no interest to you. Tell me, have you heard of fire flowers?"

Both children shook their heads this time, Mia sympathizing with them. She had never visited Nihan herself, and only knew of the fire flowers from Alex's own stories, though much later, Sheba spoke of them as well.

"Well, they are quite the sight," he said. "They're made entirely without Psynergy, though they resemble it greatly. You light a wick on them, like that on a candle, except it burns quickly. When it reaches the end, the container holding the flower flies into the air and explodes, throwing colored fire across the sky. Bright blues and greens and yellows, every color you can imagine."

"Even black?" Justin asked.

"No, not black," he said after a moment's thought. "I don't think black is possible, actually. Deep purple is, though, the color of the late evening sky. When I saw them that summer, they only created flower shapes, but I've heard that new ways have been discovered to make other shapes."

Alex raised his face to the sky slowly, smiling. "But the fire flowers were only the beginning of a spectacular evening. Late in the trip, just under a week before we left, the people of Izumo treated us to their Festival of Stars. Every summer, they celebrate the day that two stars cross paths, destined to be together for that one day of the year. The evening starts with the fire flowers, as soon as the sky is black enough, and then lasts well into the night. Seeing the things they are capable of putting together..."

He trailed off, and Megan eventually grew impatient. "What did they do? What did you get to see?"

Alex smiled at her, then shook his head slightly. "That is something you'll have to learn for yourself, someday. I can't spoil everything, after all," he added over the childish groans that immediately followed his words.

"But when are we even going to get to go on a trip?" Justin whined.

Mia lightly swatted him on the backside. "What have I told you about doing that?"

He rubbed the back of his neck slightly and looked down, Megan barely keeping her wide grin from splitting her face in half beside him. "Sorry, Mia," he mumbled.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Your sincerity is flattering. And stop gloating over there, or you'll get one too," she said flatly.

Justin's moody shuffling lasted only a minute, at best, before he and Megan began a heated discussion over where they wanted to go for their first trip, which just as quickly turned into a wildly imaginative comparison of what such places were like. Mia slowed down slightly after their conversation took off, allowing them to pull ahead, then looked over at Alex sternly.

He returned the gaze with one of utmost innocence. "What is it, my lady?"

"Do you know how long I'm going to have to hear about this?" she asked. "I'm going to spend all summer listening to the two of them complain about how they're stuck in Imil."

"Not if you take them somewhere," Alex said reasonably.

Mia opened her mouth, then shut it again. Why couldn't she take them on a trip? As Alex had pointed out, tradition stated that they should be going on one now, if they had not started already. Circumstances had forced her hand in that matter through the previous few years, of course, being the only trained healer in Imil. With Alex back, however, he could easily handle the significantly reduced workload of the summer by himself.

After all, she had never been to Nihan, either. If she intended to reform the Mercury Clan from four people, then all four of them needed the world experience necessary not only to train others, but for just about anything imaginable. Though Imil had no formal leadership, Imilians often came to the clan for resolution of various problems.

"I suppose I could," she said at last. "They've been helping me with so much, and they would love a trip like that. And they could use some different skills."

Alex nodded. "They'll need them to take over as clan leader eventually."

Mia said nothing. She rarely thought of herself as the clan leader, despite her father passing that mantle to her upon his death. Alex never disagreed with her father's decision, despite being older; he always told her that she made a better leader than he would. When the only other members had been missing or children, such a title seemed pointless.

She knew what Alex was implying, though.

When she looked over at him, she found him staring at her solemnly. "You can't stay here forever, Mia. I know you too well for that. You love helping people, and making others' lives a better place, but this has gone so far beyond it. This is less helping people and more taking care of them."

Mia met his eyes for a moment, then turned away, looking towards the lighthouse. "I... I feel guilty about it. I have my own life to live. I have things that I want to do. These people need me, but some days I just think about leaving them all here, running off and never returning."

She felt an arm gently fall across her shoulders. "That's human nature," Alex said "I don't believe anyone can live solely for other people, and you're no exception. I think the fact that you've waited this long, waiting for an opportunity to leave them in capable hands, is a testament to your selflessness. You just need to accept that no one is without vices."

Mia glanced over at him, then looked forward again. "True enough," she murmured.