Bron, Durix, Celestia, and Raziel stepped off of the Typhoonblaster in awe.
Even now, the Mother Storm was receding away into the distant sky, and the wild weather had subsided. Bron gazed around in awe at the swarms of glisters sparkling and flashing in the air. As he watched, they began to drift downwards, into the water of the Riverrise spring, where, he knew, they would be carried off by the Edgewater River to blossom into life somewhere else in the Edgeworld.
Bron then examined their surroundings. All that remained of the Great Phraxtower were a few twisted fragments of stone columns. The mechanism holding back the water had been destroyed, and it was now flowing steadily down into the darkness below. For the first time in hundreds of years, the Riverrise spring water would once again be available to all.
The water…
Bron dashed back on board the Typhoonblaster and grabbed an empty tankard. He then dashed back to the pool, filled the tankard to the brim, and ran over to Leris.
"Drink it, grandmother," he said, offering Leris the restorative water. "It's for your leg."
Within a few seconds, she had drained the tankard. Her grimace of pain vanished. Bron looked down at her leg, and saw that the bloody hole had vanished too. Gingerly, she got to her feet, and put pressure on her leg. It wobbled for a second, and then grew steady. She smiled. "Good as new."
Celestia, meanwhile, was gazing around at the rocky, barren ground with a look of great sadness. Bron walked over to her and put his arm around her.
"We may have won," she said, gesturing at the ground, "but it didn't bring back the Garden of Life. Before the Phraxguardians took over, this was a beautiful place full of trees and flowers and shrubs. Now it's empty."
Bron gathered up a few of the pillar fragments and threw them over the edge of the peak. "It's empty now," he said, "but you saw the glisters. They'll bring everything back…the Garden of Life, the Eastern Woods, and even the Twilight Woods. Nature will encroach upon the places it lost, and reclaim them."
"Indeed it will, Master Bron," came an unfamiliar, deep voice.
Bron looked up into the sky, startled, and saw a magnificent bird heading in their direction. It had a massive wingspan, black and white feathers, and a great horned bill.
"A caterbird!" exclaimed Durix in astonishment.
The colossal bird landed in front of Bron. Bron walked over to it and gazed into its purple eyes. "You're not just a caterbird…" he said slowly. "You're the caterbird, aren't you? The one who watched over Twig Verginix so long ago."
The caterbird nodded its vast head. "I am the first caterbird…the oldest. As the only of the three Ancient Ones who is capable of moving, I could travel here, to watch the rebirth of the Edge…and to see your triumph."
The caterbird scrutinized Bron for a few moments, and then said, "Your suspicion was correct, Master Bron. You are indeed the descendent of Nate Quarter…and of the Immortals."
Bron felt an overwhelming emotion rising in his chest. He, Bron Rackis, descended from the most valiant individuals the Edge had ever known!
"But…but why are you telling me this?" said Bron. "I thought that when the Immortals were finally released from their imprisonment centuries ago, you were too. I thought that you were no longer bound to watch over Captain Twig's descendants."
"Yes…I am free," confirmed the caterbird, nodding solemnly. "I am not bound to watch over you, Master Bron. I came of my own free will."
Bron stared back in amazement.
"I suffered greatly from my inescapable debt to Twig," said the caterbird. "It is not natural for us Ancient Ones to be so closely bound to the destiny of another for so long. For five hundred years, I remained trapped, desperately longing to be released from my obligations. And eventually, one night, my wish was granted. The Immortals returned to their glister state, and I was liberated.
"But this sudden liberation brought me clarity. I had long believed that we Ancient Ones knew everything there was to know. Twig proved me wrong on many occasions. And with his departure, he managed to do so one final time."
"I…I don't understand," said Bron, confused.
"The wheels of progress here in the Edge had been turning, faster than ever. I had resigned myself to believe that only with progress comes prosperity. It was a reasonable assumption, for that is how it had always been. It is why I never allowed myself to interfere with the progress of society except for where my debts existed.
"For this reason, I began to feel unease with the coming of the Third Age of Flight. Progress was reshaping the world…but at what cost? The Deepwoods suffered as the settlements grew, as industrialization thrived…but I merely assumed that it would all turn out for the best in the end.
"The beginning of the Fourth Age of Flight showed me how very wrong I had been. Progress worked backwards…it destroyed any hope of a free and fair society."
"I still don't really understand what it is you're telling me," Bron said.
"I am telling you, Master Bron, that the lesson Twig had unknowingly been attempting to teach me has finally sunk in. He proved it to me when he ended the Raintasters' profitable alliance with the Leaguesmen over the phraxdust market. He proved it to me when he and his apprentice unchained Sanctaphrax. He proved it to me when his descendant restored the old flow of the Riverrise spring. He proved it to me when the Immortals destroyed the gloamglozers, who had been born of an arrogant experiment long ago. And now, you have proven it to me with the end of the Phraxguardians."
"But…what did he prove to you?"
"He proved to me that not all voices which bring new ideas bring reason, because some new ideas call back the old order. The order of slavery, oppression, cruelty, and the strong picking on the weak. But when this comes into play in the new order, it can produce terrors the like of which have never been seen before. The Blight. The depletion of glisters. The jeopardy of the entire Edgeworld.
"For as long as the Ancient Ones have existed, we have seen growth and development. We have become content with it. Too content. And now you understand the nature of my mistake. I have returned to apologize to you, Master Bron. And not only to you, but to the entire Edge."
"But it wasn't your fault!" protested Bron. "None of it was! You couldn't have done anything!"
"Couldn't I?" said the caterbird. "You do not know me as I know myself, Master Bron. You believe me to be omniscient? I believed this was so for too long. Nothing could be further from the truth. I grew too distant from the life that came after me. I took that life for granted. I was indifferent to its trials and struggles. Do you think that I desired to watch over those who were at my hatchings? Not once in billions of years has this been so. But it should have been. You and your ancestors have taught me why."
The caterbird hung its head, looking disgusted with itself.
"You're being too hard on yourself," said Bron firmly. "You aren't a god. It's not your responsibility to look after us."
"Is that true?" said the caterbird, "Or do you simply believe that because that is what you have grown up seeing?"
Bron had no answer to that.
"You are correct that I am not a god, Master Bron," continued the caterbird. "I would not deserve such power in any case. You have seen how little I make of what has been entrusted to me."
"Please, listen to me," said Bron. "So, you've made a few mistakes. But it isn't too late. The Edge has been reborn. Whatever role you think you should play…there's still time to play it."
The caterbird's large purple eyes scrutinized Bron's face for several moments. Then, it said, "You are correct, Master Bron. There is time. I merely lost my way. If anyone deserves to be gods, it is Quint, Twig, Rook, Nate…and you. Your bravery, your visions, your ideas…these are what truly make you the Immortals."
"M-me, too?" stammered Bron. "I…I…"
"It is a new dawn, Bron Rackis," said the caterbird, spreading its wings, launching itself into the air, and flying east. "For you. For me. And for the Edge."