In the immediate hours after Tektus's exile, the Children mill in clusters, some murmuring, most in shock, none willing to raise a hand in protest—out loud, at least. There has been no sign of Chase since she went under stealth; all Kaelyn can do is hope she's made her escape. It's a tense mood that can easily turn ugly. Kaelyn can't leave with the atmosphere so fragile, with the potential for her hard work to be undone.
No matter the prickle in her eyes, Kaelyn refuses to rest but instead slings Aubert's arm across her shoulders and all but carries her to the Archemist. Aubert practically flops onto her pallet when Kaelyn lowers her with as much care she can muster. The Archemist somehow shoos Kaelyn away while simultaneously cutting through Aubert's soaked bandages.
Ware is a blessing, his status permitting him to order the zealots and his fair reputation allowing him to consult with the other Children. Under his direction, the zealots lay down their arms as a gesture of good faith, on the condition Aubert's rebels do the same. The remaining Children look between each other with wide eyes. Without a leader, they are directionless. Discontented murmurs well like the gurgling of a spring against the lapping yellow light.
"What do we do now?"
"Was this what Atom wanted? Was this right?"
And then Brother Devin sinks to his knees on the catwalk, face uplifted to the Vessel, and cries: "An island at peace! The family now free! The compassion of Atom never ceases to amaze!"
One by one, the other Children go on bended knee, swept into an impromptu worship session, chanting their fears and doubts and hopes until dawn comes with its gray-tipped exhaustion.
Kaelyn almost thinks it might be okay until she hears the awful scream when Theil discovers Richter.
In the following days, some Children venture out to see the Fog turn back with their own eyes and return agitated, calling that Atom's will is done. That quashes any remaining doubts, but Tektus's remaining supporters glower with fresh resentment. Kaelyn keeps her distance—and not just because conversations die when she steps in the room, wary eyes flashing in her direction. Richter and his two loyal guards are interred in the crypt with Theil guarding their bodies at all hours, even if Aubert has nothing pleasant to say about it.
"'Bout as appropriate as appointing a gulper to be High Confessor. Richter's the reason half the bodies are in the crypt."
From her spot beside Aubert's pallet, Kaelyn peers down at her. "You said people are interred in the crypt to be closer to Atom's Glow. Whatever he did, Richter was still one of the Children. Too many have been denied the honor already."
Aubert draws herself up, then winces. A mulish look concedes her defeat. "You're right."
The burst of her old fire doesn't last, and in a few hours she falls back into a fevered sleep. Even under the Archemist's deft care, her supplies are few and the conditions of the Nucleus are poor. Kaelyn remains by Aubert's bedside, ignoring the Archemist's increasingly-unsubtle hints that she get some rest, and sponges the sweat from Aubert's face.
"'S fine. If I meet Atom, I'll be reunited with Edgar." Aubert gives a wan smile that's more akin to a grimace, her eyes bright and glassy. And yet her mouth curls up at the edges.
Kaelyn only squeezes her hand, understanding that kind of half-desire a little too well.
The mood settles somewhat over the next few days when Ware assumes the position of Grand Zealot, even if Kaelyn has to nudge him into accepting. Theil, Richter's second, is stricken by grief. Besides, her contempt towards Far Harbor is well-known, so Kaelyn figures it's for the best. In Ware, Kaelyn sees what the Children of Atom could be.
"I suppose stranger things have happened," he says with a wry smile. "Atom's peace. I appreciate not having to sleep with a knife under my pillow, that's for sure."
However, as Tektus left no successor, it remains uncertain who will take up the mantle to lead the family. They're stymied by the loss of a second High Confessor—and Kaelyn doesn't know whether to be nervous that no one volunteers to lead, or relieved no one attempts to assert their will over the family. In the next days and many after it, the Children must grapple with the sweeping changes and grieve their losses.
Brother Kane remains one of the few openly disgruntled. "Hmm. What has Far Harbor done to merit Atom's mercy?"
Kaelyn answers, "That's the thing about mercy. It isn't granted because some deserves it, but because they can achieve greater things by letting them go than by making them pay."
A nearby brother loudly proclaims, "What does Atom need with one little dock anyway? Let Far Harbor have it."
She holds back a snort, if only just. Just a few days ago they were crowing for blood. She doesn't know if he really believes it or is just touting the new party line, but either way works.
Mai corrals Kaelyn toward a pallet, with strict orders to not get up until she's slept. Hope for rest is a distant dream. Curling up in a ball, weapons in easy reach, Kaelyn closes her eyes. When she opens them, the room is brighter, somehow. Not from the lighting; the sun cannot touch the subterranean interior, and the bottle lights are consistent day and night. No, the makeshift dormitory has only two other dozing occupants. Outside the shack, the Nucleus bustles with fresh energy as people clean up the catwalks. Ignoring her grumbling stomach, Kaelyn wanders to the infirmary to check on Aubert.
Her pallet is empty.
Kaelyn glances around, but she hasn't miscalculated the number of beds, nor is Aubert anywhere else in the infirmary.
The Archemist finds Kaelyn, then. Her watery eyes brim with sympathy.
The funeral is held scant hours later, when Kaelyn's eyes are still hot and heavy. The funeral needs to be done quickly, to curtail any diseases that might breed and infect the living. Devin stands by Kaelyn's side and if they lean into each other during the ceremony, well, none of the other mourners present are going to care.
Aubert is interred among the bodies she once protected.
As Kaelyn and Devin leave the crypt, they pass a man with his head bowed, murmuring, "May I see a kingdom reunited before I am Divided."
Four days after Tektus's exile, Kaelyn and Ware sit together on the steps, sharing an anti-rad brew and some quiet, when a zealot rushes to them, frantic and wide-eyed.
"Grand Zealot! There's a group of strangers outside! They claim they want to talk!"
Rising to his feet, Ware catches the frantic guard's arm. "Visitors, you say? Then we'll talk to 'em first." He gestures for Kaelyn and two nearby zealots to follow him out into the courtyard.
There are, indeed, a half-dozen people milling outside: Acadian synths, bogged down with all the bags they can safely carry. Chase does not count among them, for good reason, but Kaelyn suspects she lurks nearby.
The designated spokeswoman steps forward. "We heard of your upheaval in recent days. Far Harbor wished to convey their well-wishes in this uncertain time, but were unable to withstand the Deep Fog. So here we are. We also bring a gift from DiMA: his personal holotapes of conversations with Confessor Martin, who we understand was much loved here. May memories of his gentle voice guide the new High Confessor."
An argument breaks out among the strained zealots.
"Why would Far Harbor—?"
"We don't need anything from them!"
"Are you saying, Brother Jarrod, that you don't like boiled mirelurk?" Ware strides towards them, as steadfast and grounded as ever. "Because in that case, I'll be happy to take your portion."
That ends any dissent. While the envoy is not permitted inside the Nucleus, they linger in the courtyard, under guard, as Ware enlists a number of zealots and curious busybodies to help carry in the food and medications.
Kaelyn can't help a flush of resentment that the supplies hadn't come just one day earlier. Maybe they could have saved Aubert. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tries to hold back the hot prickle in her eyes.
Sister Mai inspects everything she can get a hold of. "You know, if I could get supplies like these more often, we would be better off."
"Caps transcend all languages," Kaelyn says. "I'm sure Far Harbor and Acadia would be happy to trade."
When the supplies have all been divided, the synth envoy leaves as suddenly as it arrived, unwilling to push the Children too far. It's a tentative balance that hangs between them now.
One of the zealots looks thoughtfully at the turned backs of the synths as they retreat. "In the end, we are all Atom's children."
That gives Kaelyn a measure of hope.
Ware shifts on his feet. "Well, it'll take more than food to mend any rifts, but it's a start." His black eyes fix on her. "I've got a feeling you have a hand in this."
"I might. Your peoples need to heal the rift between you."
"'Your peoples'?" he repeats archly.
Realizing her mistake, Kaelyn sighs. No more deceit. "I belong to both and neither. It's time for me to go home, I think."
To her surprise, Ware is thoughtful rather than angry. "And where's home for you?"
"Across the sea. The Commonwealth. My friends are waiting for me to come back, now that the worst of the island's troubles are over."
Ware cocks an eyebrow. "Long way away. And there ain't no guarantees of peace. Anything can still go wrong. We've got some hard days ahead of us."
"I know. There's always a chance of that. But, I'd like to think, there's a chance for peace now, too. And maybe the next time tensions run high, you might just remember this."
Later that day, Kaelyn says her quiet goodbyes. Mai and Devin. The place where Aubert was interred in the crypt. Ware is the last she finds, leaning against the wall at the spot they first met. He hums low in his throat and offers her a wry smile. "Take care, my friend. Atom's blessings."
For the first time, she can accept the sentiment without bitterness. "And His upon you."
With a final dose of rad-x, Kaelyn slips out the Nucleus and vanishes into the Fog. The route to Acadia is a familiar one after all these weeks, but she still gets turned around at the intersection with the felled pine. But at last through the haze, a number of figures become visible, then their muted voices bounce through the Fog-laden air. Except there are more figures than she remembers. Guards who must have kept their distance while the synths made their offer and, yes, there's Chase prowling at the head of the group.
But among the envoy's guards is one Nick Valentine. Kaelyn breaks into a run and hurls herself at him, looping her arms around his neck. Valentine staggers back a step, his arms closing around her, a warm laugh in her ear. He kisses the top of her head and she knows it's going to be alright.