To Hazelmere, it appeared as if she was instantly teleported to a different plane of existence. After a single blink of her tired eyes, the freezing cold was replaced with comforting warmth, while her vision became filled with nothing but the blinding whiteness.

As her mind struggled to make any sense of it, she heard a soothing voice. She didn’t understand a word of it, although she somehow knew it was talking to her.

“Did … did I make it?” She asked feebly.

Her words made the voice speak faster.

“Have I … repented for my mistakes?”

The whiteness in front of her started shifting, becoming a blur. Then, the blur started separating itself into several pieces, each of them constituting a separate, blurry object in her mind. The soothing voice never stopped talking, and she started understanding some of its words.

After a while, the blurry object in the center of her vision started taking shape. With time, the lines became more defined, eventually morphing into a beautiful, pearl-white face. Her mind couldn’t figure out if the face belonged to a male or female, but that didn’t matter since it was way too beautiful for Hazelmere to care. Whomever it belonged to, it was a welcome sight.

Its lips constantly moved as it spoke something she couldn’t comprehend. She noticed long, golden hair falling to its sides. As her eyes followed the hair, her mind realized it wasn’t just a simple face in front of her. It wasn’t a mirage, it was a person. She realized that once she saw a glimpse of big, white wings hiding behind the golden hair.

“Am I … did I make it to the heavens? I must be … since you’re here.”

The face smiled, revealing the perfect teeth for a moment, before continuing its mystic speech.

“So … now what? What becomes of me?”

Right after saying those words, Hazelmere saw a dark hand move the beautiful face away from her sight before her vision was violently shifted to the side, followed by the sharp pain which spread itself over the entire left side of her head.

Wait …

Head?

What’s the point of having a head in heaven? Aren’t the people supposed to lose their bodies and become ethereal once they die?

All of a sudden, she could understand the voices in her head.

“What are you doing, you brute! She needs time to recover! Haven’t you ever tried nursing someone back to health?”

“There’s nothing a good slap can’t fix, broken heads included.”

Her hand reached for her cheek instinctively. Meaning, she also had a hand. And an arm.

She turned her head around to look at her surroundings. Soon, everything started making sense.

Her mind realized she wasn’t in heaven but somewhere familiar. It also recognized the people around her, but it didn’t know right away who they were. There was a pure-white angel, a dark-skinned peasant, three fashionably clothed, pretty females, and one cute female whose clothes covered everything but her face.

She could feel one of those pretty females pouring the energy into her body.

“Stop it, you two! She’s moving!” The other female barked.

“See? A good slap works miracles!”

“Move aside! Move aside!” The beautiful, androgynous face filled her vision once again, “Are you ok? Can you hear me now?”

“I … my vision is swimming, and … my head hurts,” Hazelmere responded as her hand cradled her left cheek.

“Of course it hurts! This …” the face looked quite irritated as it let out a deep sigh, “I shan’t talk badly of him. Still, that lamb has much work to do on its character.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

The beautiful face turned away: “Yes, and who knows what other damage you have caused! Have you ever tried fixing things without breaking something else? You can’t go around slapping people whenever you feel like it!”

“Hazelmere, do you recognize me?” One of the females got closer, brushing her hair away as she did so, “It’s me, Mizette!”

“Mizette … that sounds …”

Hazelmere’s eyes slowly opened wide.

“What … what are you doing here?”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“You aren’t dead, dummy! Galizur brought you back. He went after you, even before you fell.”

“When I’ve realized you went farther than I did, I knew you won’t be turning back. Not unless someone fetches you.”

Hazelmere turned her head towards the voice, seeing a familiar, dark figure.

It took her a few moments to recognize Heartwell.

“But, that means …” Her eyes started looking for the pretty, pale face in a hurry. Looking at it again, she realized that, while it was androgynous, it belonged to someone she knows.

“Oh … it’s you. I saw your wings and thought I went to heaven.”

“Are you disappointed?” Galizur asked with his usual, warm smile.

“I … honestly, I am in a way. Had I went to heavens, that would mean I’ve managed to fix the wrong I did.”

“No, your suffering isn’t over yet. Meaning, you get to have your responsibilities back. The heavens clearly want you to fix your own mess, not shove it on someone else,” Hazelmere didn’t even have to move her eyes to recognize Cybil was the one talking.

She sank the back of her head in the pillow, exhaling deeply.

“So … what has happened? How long was I out of it?”

“Not much, just two days.”

“And who are you?” Hazelmere asked, realizing there’s an unfamiliar person sitting right next to her.

“I am Natle, the healer. What, you don’t recognize me?”

“Natle … oh, yes, yes … I do remember. Sorry, I’m just out of sorts.”

“That is understandable. It makes sense that you would sooner recognize the people who are close to you.”

Then, Hazelmere heard something tumble to the ground.

“Moana!” Mizette yelled in panic.

“She is fine,” Natle responded, “she is just exhausted, that is all. A few days in bed, and she will be as good as new.”

“Exhausted from what?” Hazelmere asked.

“She watched over you ever since Galizur brought you back. She made sure your soul didn’t leave the body.”

“Oh.”

“She is a very talented archpriestess,” Galizur said, in a very respectful voice, “very few mortals can pull that off. Not to mention staying awake for two days straight.”

“Eh?”

A few soldiers walked in, with Heartwell in tow. They picked Moana up, with a lot of care, and took her out of the tent.

After that, an awkward silence ensued. Hazelmere spoke to break it.

“So … Galizur brought me back?”

“Yes,” Mizette responded, “although, if he is resistant to the cold, enough to go get you and come back unharmed, I can’t help but wonder why didn’t he go to deliver the books.”

“Miss Hazelmere wanted to repent for her mistakes, and it would be wrong for me to deny her such a chance.”

“Even if that could kill her?”

“She knew the risks. And, while I didn’t want to take her redemption away from her, that didn’t mean I couldn’t give her a hand if she got into trouble.”

“I guess that makes sense in a way … you did save her life in the end.”

“He even faced off against a big bug that tried to capture you,” Cybil said.

“Huh?”

“I didn’t fight it,” Galizur inserted himself, “it came to get you but stopped as soon as it noticed me. It observed me for some time and then crawled away. It didn’t show any hostility at all.”

“Do you think it tried to help me? If it came for me after I’ve fallen?”

Galizur shook his head: “I doubt it. The demons would most likely carve you up to see what is inside and how you taste.”

“That’s… that’s a bit …”

“It is disturbing, yes, but it is also true.”

“Why did you come to get me, Galizur? I’m not complaining, it’s just …”

“The angels can handle the cold much better than the mortals. Sun’s warmth radiates from within us, giving us resistance against the frost. I doubt it would make the difference near the portal itself, but it was very useful in this situation.”

“But … why take the risk?”

“I have told you, due to the shift in the balance, you mortals have a key role to play in ending this. And that includes you too. I am not going to give a single mortal to those demons if I can help it.”

“That’s… thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

A soldier barged in, ruining the warm moment.

“They’re coming, the big one! The big bug is coming!”

“These soldiers always show up at the most inconvenient of times,” Hazelmere complained.

“Which one, the talking one or …” Cybil asked.

“Tis’ the huugee one!” The soldier raised his hands up, trying to gesticulate its size, “the one with the big turtle shell on its back!”

“The detachable shell?”

“Yes! That one!”

Hazelmere tried getting up, only to be pushed back onto the bed by Natle.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“To see what the demons are up to!” She answered, with an incredulous look on her face.

“You aren’t going anywhere in that condition. You will have to stay in your bed for two weeks to recover your lost energy.”

“You want me to stay like this for ten days? While the demons are roaming about!”

“Exactly. You will only do more damage in your current state.”

“She doesn’t need to be on her death bed to do damage. She has proven that several times already,” Cybil said with a satisfied grin on her face, clearly waiting for Hazelmere’s reaction.

Hazelmere responded with a mocking sneer instead of words.

“Besides, you aren’t in charge right now,” Cybil continued, “only once you have fully recovered will you be fit for your station. And I am quite generous with that wording, aren’t I? I am the royal archmage while you are incapacitated, by your own decree. And my first command to you is to lie in that bed until Natle says otherwise.”

Hazelmere pouted for a few moments while clenching the furs covering her with weak hands.

“Fine! Go and act like the royal archmage while you still can!”

Cybil gave her a half-genuine smile before going outside with the others, leaving only Natle behind.

---

A lot of time passed without anyone coming to bring the news of what was going outside the tent.

“What is taking them so long?” Hazelmere asked nobody in particular, frustration filling her voice.

“If anything goes wrong, we will hear them screaming,” Natle responded.

“Shouldn’t you be out there too? What if someone gets hurt?”

“If someone gets hurt, they will bring them to me. My skills are too valuable to be risked on the front lines. That is also why I wasn’t the one to go and explore those ruins. And you should rest, not worry about what is happening outside. Talking also drains energy, you know?”

Mentioning ruins made Hazelmere settle down for a while. She didn’t try starting any conversation after that.

The dreadful silence outside the camp turned into a commotion. It started silently at first but got louder with each moment. It felt as if the commotion was moving through the camp, towards Hazelmere’s tent.

“It looks like we will finally get the answers you seek,” Natle said, “and it doesn’t sound like the people are panicking.”

“They aren’t cheering either.”

As the commotion grew in its intensity, Mizette rushed into the tent, carrying something in her hands. She wore a delighted smile on her face, the kind of a smile a child would have when it receives an unexpected gift.

“Look what I’ve got!”