Flow, Rusk, Mandy and Iraiah sat at the very top of the volcano, in view of the lava, and began the summoning ritual. Apparently it had been passed down through Floumeré’s family for just such an occasion. Her father had foreseen a conflict with the sea, and reached inside the earthen elements to reveal a ritual to qualm the sea serpent. But of course that meant summoning it first, and Flow had enough family history behind her to conceive of making the ritual multipurpose. That multipurpose being a summoning spell instead of a trapping one. Rusk watched her work with awe.

She made candles out of lava and lit their wicks with fire. Iraiah held onto hers as if it might burn her at a moment’s notice, and as the sky fell dark Flow chanted the words that would speak directly to the gods. Those gods being the serpents of the natural world. The dragons in everything that was natural. Now that the necromancer was gone, she was sure the ritual would work without any added conflict. They wouldn’t bring down the wrath of anything they couldn’t handle.

“Sea serpent,” said Rusk as he’d been instructed. “I seek your council.”

Not only did the sea serpent show up, but the sky serpent as well. Iraiah’s grip on the candled tightened so much her fist had white knuckles. She hadn’t forgotten the last time she met with a force of nature. How she’d basically told it to hell with its offer. She hoped her insolence wouldn’t be used against Rusk. She tried to make herself look as tiny as possible while still holding her place in the circle of magick.

“Fear not,” said the sky serpent to Iraiah. “We are over our ills, now that the necromancer is gone. Sea serpent has informed me it was the necromancer who controlled it into murdering Iya Tarfell. A thing which could happen to anyone, for necromancy is terrible powerful magick. But we have also heard you defeated the evil in the neighboring kingdom across the sea.” Now its attention turned to Mandy. “With an arrow you found here in your journey.”

“I found it, technically.” Rusk cleared his throat. “It’s good that you’re no longer fighting, and we have something to offer.”

“Speak your offer,” said the sea serpent, and its voice was cooing waves of saltwater bliss. It was pleased with Rusk.

“We want to rebuild this stronghold,” said Flow. “But would request an armistice so it no longer becomes destroyed. For that we require that the sky and the sea maintain a peaceful relationship. Is this humble request acceptable?”

The sky serpent and sea serpent looked at each other. Their gaze formed a bridge between waters and atmosphere.

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“A truce for how long?” asked the sky serpent. “We have been known to battle. It is in our nature.”

“Long enough for us to rebuild this place, and for a new batch of recruits, Hero recruits, to cross the sea to get here,” said Rusk. “We intend to make this stronghold as it once was. No. Better than it once was. So that whenever another necromancer or monster or other unnatural force decides to mess with the world at large, there will be Heroes there to defend the solace of nature.”

“So it is not an armistice but a treaty you wish to offer.”

“Yes.”

“We accept. This is a bounty for us as well as you. However. We cannot keep our battles out of your world entirely. We are temperamental.”

The sky serpent laughed heartily.

“Or perhaps I am temperamental,” corrected the sea serpent. “And so this truce must have a time limit. We will take out our frustrations on your lower world otherwise.”

“A year,” proposed Floumeré. “That’s enough for us to rebuild. Yes?”

The serpents thought this over. Their humming of contemplation passed through water and sky alike, forming ozone and lightning of considerate thoughts.

“You know you’re legends in Porttegat,” said Rusk. “And a lot of our recruits might come from there. Since we’ve got a certain leader on our side.”

“Porttegat? That city on my border?”

“That’s the one. Where you drowned Captain Arrolg.”

“This is acceptable,” said the sea serpent.

“Iya Tarfell would be proud,” said the sky serpent.

In unison they left the scene, and Rusk and Flow and Mandy and Iraiah let out a breath of relief. They had the gods on their side. There was no failing for them now. Not anymore.

“Well,” said Rusk. “Shall we get to work? For real this time.”

Flow went around collecting the ritual tools, but paused over the cracked obsidian mirror at the circle’s center. “There is one other who might offer its services. The volcano itself. My father’s volcano. I can feel its power thrumming within me, as I always have, and it may aide us willingly in restoring Sanctuary. Its treaty with Iya Tarfell has yet to be concluded. Shall I try?”

“We could use all the help we can get,” said Rusk. “What would you have us do?”

“Oh. I’ll take care of that.” Flow without another word jumped right in the lava.

With squeaks of worry and surprise the rest of them flew to the edge of the volcanic mouth and tried to see if she were still alive. But there was nothing. She was gone.

Until an hour and a half later she emerged hand first clutching in her fist the most magnificent bow Rusk had ever seen. It was made of black volcanic glass, and its string held traces of fire.

“The volcano will not do more than this,” said Flow. “And once I am out of this lava I will no longer have control over its eruptions. But it is dormant now, and probably forever will be. Until the next age of our dominion. Rusk, its gift is this bow to you.”

Mandy stood back and watched with acceptance as Rusk took the bow from Floumeré.

“It’s beautiful,” said Rusk. “I’ll use it well.” And he realized in that moment, that his connection to the Elva had been severed. Completely and totally. And you know what? He wasn’t unhappy for it.

He had better goals than pulling arrows. If that’s the sacrifice it took to solidify the treaty with the natural elements, it was a small price to pay.