Karfice stumbled through the empty alleyways, ambling about as would a lost spirit, forgotten, regretful. Those people, those faces, they were so familiar. How long had it been? A decade? Not long enough, clearly. To think, they’d made it all this way. He didn’t even want to imagine how many died along the way. And it was his fault, all his fault.

“Karfice?” A feminine voice called out from behind him, doubtful, almost disbelieving.

Karfice stopped, willing himself from reality for just a moment. It wasn’t right, he knew it wasn’t right. Go and leave it all behind, for what? Him? Karfice continued walking, resuming his pace with renewed vigor.

“Karfice?” The all too familiar voice called out again, cracking and breaking at the tone of the word.

He could hear her footsteps, heavy against the pavement, but he didn’t turn around. He couldn’t turn around. But neither could he run. The woman wrapped her arms around Karfice, head buried into his shoulders, and she wept. She wept tears of love and loss, tears of warm memories held close, and most importantly, tears of forgiveness, despite it all.

“Oh Karfice,” she sobbed, clutching Karfice so tight he wouldn’t dare leave. How could he fly when she had him so close? “He said-said you were dead! He said he killed you! But I knew-I knew he wouldn’t! He couldn’t!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…you must be mistaking me for someone else,” Karfice replied dryly, stiff and unmoving.

“You’re lying! I know you are! Look at me, Karfice!” She cried, grabbing his face by the chin and yanking it to the side.

She was nothing like he remembered, practically unrecognizable, but beneath the veneer, she remained. She was taller, hair, glossy and parted perfectly in the middle, falling longer to either side, her features more mature. But he knew better. He saw the remnants of youth lingering in her face, softer features fighting bravely against the encroaching edge. It had been a decade, but he remembered. Of course, he would always remember.

“...I can’t go back, Mar,” Karfice whispered.

Her face twisted with grief, valleys carving themselves deep within the crevices around her face, tears flowing like rivers, “Of course you can! Do you think this is what he wanted for you, Karfice!? Running away from what you did!?”

“It’s better this way. Let them think I’m dead, let them move on, and I’ll live with the guilt. It’s what I-”

“Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it!” Maria cried, shaking Karfice by the shoulders. “You don’t deserve this, I know you don’t. So listen to me. You can fix this Karfice, rebuild what you destroyed. If you keep hiding from it like this, it’ll never get better; that wound you left will never heal, and father will never forgive himself. But it doesn’t have to be this way, please,” she pleaded.

“...I’m not going back.”

“Gods, are you really so dense!? You’ve suffered enough Karfice. Gods only know what you’ve been through all this time. I forgive you, Karfice. You can’t deny everyone else the same.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Karfice pulled away, facing her for the first time. “Look at yourself. You suffered just as I did, and what did you do? Nothing. Just because I couldn’t handle it doesn’t mean I’m redeemed. My mind is made up. I’m not going back, that’s final.”

“Then I’m going with you. If you’re not going back, then neither am I,” Mar stepped forward, resolute eyes piercing Karfice’s own.

“You’ll die. I can’t let-”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you, Karfice? What I’ve gone through just to find you again? I’m not letting you leave without me. I refuse.”

“Mar…please.”

“My mind is made up. I’m not going back without you.”

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They stood there for a moment, staring into eachothers eyes, silence overwhelming them. It was Karfice’s will against Mar’s, and if it was anything like the past, this wasn’t a battle Karfice could win. She always was stubborn, practically to a fault.

“I won’t stop you,” Karfice said, yielding to her demand.

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“You won’t get what you want to hear.”

“Then give me something else instead,” Mar said, placing her hand on Karfice’s perfect mask of ice. “I want to see.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I have to. I need to know what happened, Karfice.”

Karfice hesitated, hand instinctively resting against his mask to make sure it was still there. It’d been so long since he’d taken it off, at least a decade. In all that time, even he never dared to look at his face, let alone reveal it for anyone else. It brought back too many bad memories, memories he didn’t want to remember. But maybe…maybe she was right. Maybe he really was a coward. Maybe it was time to move forward.

Slowly, Karfice gripped the edge of his mask, pulling the ice and protective cloth from his mangled flesh. He expected Mar to jump back, to gasp in surprise and slap him, to scream in horror and run away…but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled. She leaned forward, eyes brimming with tears, and kissed his cheek, just like mother used to when Karfice lost his temper. In that moment, Karfice wanted to weep, to let loose all of the emotion that had plagued him for so long, and had the tear duct on his one remaining eye not been seared shut, maybe he would’ve. But nothing can change the fact that he didn’t. No, he simply stood there, swaying with the breeze and remembering.

***

Kiva sat next to Trenton, head laid peacefully atop his shoulder, staring out the marvelous window as he read, much like he did every night, from that odd, empty book he always carried around. On the table to their side, Raligoth sat peacefully humming some old tune to himself. Across from them, Leo toiled with some otiose metallic mechanism Wimbleton had given him some week prior, sitting on the edge of the bed and thinking silently. And at the other end of the room, standing with his nose pressed against the glass, was Gyrus, who was practically leaping into the air with excitement.

Once they’d concluded their business in Wriggley’s tower, they were quick to leave, exhaustion gripping them from the long day of traveling and long night of deals. But as they were parting with Gyrus, Leo had the foresight to ask a little about how his life had been and how he was getting along in Korak,. Apparently, Gyrus’s “warm bed” was just a ratty bedroll that he laid out on the streets next to an old, broken down guardpost on the western side of the city. And his meals were a little more inconsistent than he’d made them out to be. So, Trenton practically dragged Gyrus along with them, letting him stay the night in the hotel with them. It was simple, extravagance something that was clearly lost on these struggling people, but to Gyrus, it was practically heaven. He had been fawning over even the slightest luxurious for the last half hour or so with energy lost on the rest of them.

“Hey…do you know where Karfice went?” Leo said after a while, looking up from his fidgeting.

“I saw him ambling somewhere after Trenton fell, but I don’t know where he was going,” Kiva yawned.

“I’m sure he’ll be back. If there’s trouble, we’ll know,” Trenton said, closing his book and ruffling Kiva’s hair, sending a wave of fairies rolling through her stomach.

“What about Wimbleton? Sodrue? Garrote? I thought they’d be back by now,” Leo said, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor while absentmindedly biting the nail of his right thumb.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Let’s go to bed. I’m sure by morning they’ll be back.”

Leo shook his head, “I don’t think I can…with everything going on, I can’t help but fear the worst with everyone out so long.”

“Why don’t you take a walk, lad? Help cool your nerves,” Raligoth said.

“...yeah,” Leo stood, “that’s not a bad idea. You guys can go ahead without me. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Leo pushed his way through the wooden door to their room, footsteps slowly receding down the hallway. It was funny, almost. The last time everyone had split up like this was…was…the petrichor base. Everyone had been sent different directions…right before the chaos. And that man…earlier…Kiva wasn’t one to believe in patterns, nor was he one to succumb to nihilism, but sometimes he could feel Loarch’s influence, feel the grips of fate upon herself. And right now, an unease stirred within her.

“Wow,” Gyrus called out, pressing his nose even further into the glass pane, the whole thing threatening to shatter if he pushed it even a quarter inch further, “would you look at those clouds! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Kiva stood, slipping away from Trenton with a small peck to the side of his head. She strided up behind Gyrus, gazing out at the sky with morbid interest. Beautiful was one word for it, certainly, but foreboding might be a better one. Black clouds had been pulled together to a locus, swirling rapidly, visibly together like it was the make of one great empyrean maelstrom. And between them shone a marvelous purple light, forming another spiral which traveled along with the clouds.

“Trenton, have you-” Kiva turned around. Trenton’s face was white, and his body was stiff, hands slightly shaking. Kiva was right. Something was wrong, horribly, horribly wrong.