106 PF
Continental Empire
Kingdom of Larnach
City of Larnach
Approximately near the Royal Square
2100 hours
The Sparkwielders huddled together among ruins and rubble, healing their wounded and giving rites to the departed. Some exchanged distrustful glares with the soldiers who monitored them, yet there was ultimately no more fight left in them. With so much desolation brought upon the City, their souls were smothered by a harrowing sense of collective guilt. They were traitors. They had lost. They awaited judgement.
Flame Victor found himself at the centre of this tattered congregation, watching over what was left of his friends and comrades. Tired as he was – physically, mentally, spiritually – he knew he could not afford to falter, for he was their last hope. Clinging to his staff to keep himself aware and grounded, he waited for the Larnachians’ next move – be it a negotiation or an execution.
“Flame Victor?! Flame Victor!” suddenly called out a voice somewhere in the distance, its tone shrill and urgent.
Victor turned toward the source of the sound and saw a peculiar group of people lingering at the very edge of the cordon that enclosed the Sparkwielders – two adults in black-and-purple uniforms and four dark figures of such tiny stature that they seemed to be children. Several Sparkwielders moved of their own volition to guard the Flame from any potential threat, but he called them off with a single hand gesture. As he went by himself to take a closer look, stumbling across a landscape of stray concrete and fragmented asphalt, the first thing he noticed about the visitors was the sheer volume of lingering soul energy that clung to their bodies.
Erika’s energy.
She had not been among the host that had departed from the Quarry. He knew that, for he had been looking back the entire way. How was she here now? Was she here, or has that explosion reduced him to a hallucinating wreck?
Victor gripped his staff even tighter, struggling against the blinding green glow until he managed to look past it and examine the Larnachians in closer detail. It was a Colonel and a General – judging from the insignia on their burned and tattered uniforms – who regarded him with expressions devoid of hostility or condescension, almost as if they considered him an equal.
What drew his attention the most was the limp, motionless body slung over the Colonel’s shoulders. It was Erika, her emerald robe and jet-black hair instantly recognizable. Victor almost felt a jolt of elation for the first time in this whole accursed day, but he realized that something was missing. All that glow, all that energy – she was the only one who didn’t emanate it.
His heart sank.
“Flame Victor?” queried that same voice he had heard moments prior, and his gaze travelled downward until he was face to face with the girl it belonged to. Or, more accurately, face to collar.
“Yes?” he replied, trying and failing to find any opening in the child’s impenetrably opaque garbs.
In fact, all four of them shared the same outfit – dark trenchcoats, tall collars, sheathed swords. They could see him, and he could not; they recognized him, and he did not. It unnerved him greatly.
And, of course, they noticed that too. In uncanny unison, as if following an invisible signal, they detached their collars to reveal… entirely ordinary faces. Healthy, unmarred, endearing, even. Victor didn’t quite know what he had expected, but he was glad to discard it from consideration.
“You’re Erika’s friend, right?” asked the redheaded girl standing in front of the squad. Her expression could serve as a model of pure innocence if it weren’t for that look of sharp awareness in her eyes. These kids weren’t civilians, they were soldiers. “She told us about you. She’s… I think she’s wounded. Please, can you… can you help her?”
The girl’s voice was brimming with concern, almost pleading. It was clear that she was just as worried about Erika as he was. The questions of where, when, and how did the two become acquainted could wait for later. Victor turned back to the Colonel, hesitating for a moment before slowly extending one of his hands in a diplomatic gesture.
“...may I?” he asked, a significant part of him doubting that the Larnachians would relinquish anything so simply.
And yet there were no terms of release. The woman simply nodded, allowing the Flame to proceed. He let go of his staff, leaving it to hang in the air, and reached out with both hands to envelop Erika in the most gentle and careful telekinetic grip he could possibly muster. He moved her close and suspended her in a horizontal position, as if laying her out on an invisible surface.
He now realized why he didn’t feel any energy from her before – her soul was drained, damaged, its fire faint and flickering like a dying candle. Yet despite all that, she was still breathing. She was still clinging to life.
“Healers!” he called out over his shoulder, and handed Erika over to the two Embers who rushed over to him. Soul was much harder to mend than flesh, so all they could do at the moment was try to stabilize her condition.
Knowing she was now in safe hands, Victor allowed himself a short sigh of relief and faced the Larnachian officers once again. He felt that he owed them a certain amount of courtesy for the seemingly selfless action of returning Erika.
“I suppose greetings are in order. I am Flame Victor Heimdall, the one currently responsible for the safety and wellbeing of these people. If there is any matter that concerns them, you can raise it with me. Is this acceptable?”
He spoke politely with those who, mere hours ago, would be mutually considered kill-on-sight. Though hope was not a feeling he dared let into his heart, something made him think that, with the Firelord gone, things could finally be different.
“Of course,” replied the General with an amicable tone, though his voice was raspy and pained. “I am Director-General Austin McCarter, and this is Colonel Viola Washington. We are honoured to make your acquaintance.”
McCarter very deliberately neglected to give any definition to the quartet of juvenile assassins that followed him. Victor wasn’t about to pry.
“The feeling is mutual. If I may ask, how have you…” He paused, taking the time to carefully formulate his question. “...come across Ember Erika in such a state?”
“Simply put, we all owe our lives to her,” said the General with clear admiration as his hand idly touched the haphazard scarring on his face.
They then proceeded to collectively retell the preceding events of the day – the skirmish in Buaic, the expedition to the Quarry, the fight with the Wildfire, the detonation of the Anathema warhead, and the subsequent resurrection of McCarter – all intersected by Erika’s presence, having been led by happenstance and her own kind-heartedness to cross paths with the most unexpected people in the most unexpected ways.
Victor listened carefully, pondering the abundance of perspectives available to him. Erika had trusted these people, trusted them enough to sacrifice herself for their sake – so perhaps he could trust them too.
“I see Erika has betrayed us,” he noted at the end of it all with a lighthearted tone, attempting to defuse tensions through humour. “Fraternizing with the enemy may not be so bad after all.”
“I hope that we need not consider each other as foes any longer,” said the General, managing a small smile despite his wounds. “I see no use in demands or violence, and I see no need to treat you like crimina–”
He was interrupted by the sound of loudspeakers crackling to life all across the City, disturbing the morbid stillness of its air. Though McCarter was numb and dizzy, he knew exactly what was about to happen – he felt it in his heart. At that very moment, Elizabeth Purpura, first of her name, stepped upon a makeshift podium to claim the burden she was destined to bear.
“This is Elizabeth Purpura speaking. As the last living member of the House of Purpura, I hereby declare myself Queen of Larnach and Grand Monarch of the Continental Empire by sacred birthright. I make this decision at an exceptionally difficult time for the people I am obliged to safeguard and govern, and though my arrival may seem sudden and vain, I promise to wholly dedicate myself to resolving the ongoing crisis.”
The Monarch’s voice, firm yet gentle, was echoed by the citywide announcement system. From the dense city centre to the sprawling suburbs, from the halls of the Great Library to the meadows of the Royal Park, from the barren seats of the Larnachian Parliament to the honoured Duelling Grounds, her words were heard all over the City and beyond.
“For the past six years, while I was still juvenile and unfit to rule, I watched from afar as the people of Larnach fought each other, killed each other, this bitter conflict scorching our venerable Kingdom. So much blood has been spilt, so much suffering has been wrought – and I wish, above all else, for this crisis to end.”
The transmission went farther and farther, reaching the vast docks of Aigea, the pristine laboratories of Adrach, the thrumming factories of Teorann, and the bountiful fields of Beanagh. The Kingdom of Larnach held its breath as it listened to the speech of its new ruler.
“Thus, hear my first royal decree, soldiers of Larnach: in the name of the crescent moon, I declare a ceasefire. Stay your weapons! No more death, no more war. This is not the time to make judgement, this is not the time to weigh sins on a scale and draw troops into firing lines. Both sides have their own causes and grievances. Violence is not the only way. I propose a new path – a path of forgiveness.”
Military technicians routed the recording through special intracontinental transmission channels to make sure the entire Empire heard her words. The sovereigns of Iontach, Fostai, and Thuaid – and the Prince-Mayor of Cogadh – would all know the name of their Grand Monarch.
“To that extent, I shall make the first step. Sparkwielders – by the absolute authority vested in me as the emissary of the crescent moon, I offer you my sincerest apology. I apologize for the decisions of my royal predecessors, of the government and Parliament, and for the actions of the Larnachian military in the times before and during the crisis. For any who had their citizenship revoked, I declare immediate reinstatement with all the rights and protections that entails. Though we may be different in many ways, we need not be divided – we are all equal under the crescent moon of Larnach.”
Though she was just a wounded young girl in a bloodied and tattered dress delivering a speech in front of charred ruins, she was a symbol of something much larger than tradition or monarchy, something thought to have been long lost to the bloody conflict – a symbol of hope. She was the last remnant of a bygone era, but perhaps also the herald of a new one. A better one.
“Next, I offer you an accord. If we are to move past the hatred and bloodshed of the crisis, if we are to build a better future for ourselves and our descendants, a future bereft of strife and prejudice – we must work together. To each and every Sparkwielder I offer total, irrevocable amnesty under one condition: that you help rebuild what has been destroyed and mend what has been wounded.”
She didn’t expect everyone to agree with this approach or to trust this offer, but she also knew there wasn’t enough malice in the hearts of the people to demand vengeance and retribution, and that the Sparkwielders have been fighting just because after six long, gruelling years they didn’t know what else to do. The one who had been pulling all the strings was dead, and now they needed to be given a different choice.
“It will not be simple, nor will it be easy – but I truly believe that it is possible. Through mutual cooperation we can usher in an age of unity and prosperity, learning from each other and helping each other, never to make the same mistakes that led us to the dark times of the crisis. I shall do everything in my power to make this future into reality, and I hope that you help me accomplish this great task.
“Hail the crescent moon.”
Those standing near the Monarch, enraptured by her speech, erupted in a chorus of “hail!”. The loudspeakers began playing a serene rendition of the Larnachian royal anthem, recorded many years before the crisis. As day turned to night, it was as if the Moon itself shone with pearly light upon the weary soldiers and Sparkwielders, welcoming the return of Larnach’s rightful ruler.
Then, something stirred within Elizabeth; she felt moonlight boring into the back of her skull. It judged her, and found her sufficient. A great presence brushed against the very edges of her consciousness, though she wasn’t sure whether it came from within or from without. It belonged, she was meant for it, but it was also cold and foreign. She couldn’t help but shiver.
And that’s when she felt Frederick’s hands drape his coat around her shoulders. It was warm, and several sizes too big for her, and it was perfect. She looked up at him, and he smiled wider than he ever had before. He was so proud of her. The pressure didn’t go away – it never would – but it no longer bothered her as much. He was with her, and that was all she needed.
Meanwhile, Director-General McCarter closed his eyes and immersed himself in the atmosphere of this grand moment, feeling it soothe his mind and body. The children gazed upon the Moon in silent communion, their feet planted firmly on the soil of the lunar domain, and Viola… chose to indignantly glare at Austin upon realizing he had known about Elizabeth’s existence all along.
And Flame Victor, though he and his people had their own divinities to venerate, paid respects to the Moon as well. He pondered the words of the Grand Monarch, knowing that he stood at the precipice of something enormous, and that he was in the position to play an important role in the events to come. Only wanting the best for the other Sparkwielders, Victor carefully weighed his options and made a decision.
“I will need to speak with the others,” he said to the two officers, “to gauge their thoughts about this new development. It comes as a great surprise to all of us to see a new Grand Monarch ascend onto the throne, let alone that they would make such… unexpected choices. I hope I will not come to regret putting my trust in them.”
Upon hearing that declaration, the Colonel found herself regarding the Sparkwielder not with scrutiny, but with respect. She allowed this novel feeling to take a leading role in her mind, suspending her customary scepticism until further notice.
“We look forward to working with you,” she finally said, exhibiting a mild warmth in her expression.
And then she reached out for a handshake.
Victor was slightly startled by this – as Sparkwielders had their own special way of greeting, he could hardly remember the last time he shook someone’s hand. And yet, compelled by respect and sentiment, he reciprocated the gesture. In a few hundred years, when the events of that fateful day would be captured by numerous stage plays and operas, this handshake would become a crowning highlight.
Because, as most playwrights and some historians would consider it, this was the moment that put a definitive end to the Sparkwielder crisis.
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The City still stood.
Wounded, yet unconquered.
She had expected to see a graveyard or a warzone, but what she saw as she looked down upon the City, its streets illuminated by floating orbs of light, was the miraculous sight of Sparkwielders mingling with Larnachians, helping each other, sharing with each other. A strange feeling momentarily flared up within her soul, but she disregarded it. She came here for a reason.
There was only one thing down there worth caring about, and that was Wildfire Bonn. She could feel her energy, she had felt it all the way from Fostai, and it guided her across the Continent to the very heart of Larnach. Campbell had taken her away, and if he weren’t already dead, Wildfire Raelyn would have killed him for what he’d done. She was going to get her little sister back, and nothing could stop her.
She came from far above, from the clouds in the night sky, and touched down on the ground in front of the Palace. Shouts and alarms disturbed the almost-quiet of the City as a motley assortment of Larnachian soldiers and Sparkwielder warriors surrounded her from all sides, united by their common contempt of her. She knew she could sweep them all away with but a motion of her hand, yet the thought of it made her shudder. That vast, monstrous, unnatural power – the power of a Wildfire – weighed on her soul harder now than it had in many years.
A peculiar young woman stood out in the crowd, all white and red and purple, yelling for everyone to hold their fire. When her voice was lost amidst the commotion, the ageing man beside her barked out the same order with all the loudness and authority fit for a seasoned military commander – and the people obeyed. With the rising tensions momentarily halted, the red-eyed girl stepped forward and began to speak.
“Greetings. I am Grand Monarch Elizabeth Purpura. We do not wish you harm, but we will be forced to defend ourselves if you act in violence. Please, state your intent here.”
A new Grand Monarch? Someone of House Purpura had survived the massacre six years ago? These questions upheaved the Wildfire’s mind, reigniting a sense of guilt that she had kept buried for so long. There was so much to regret, but she could not afford to stray from her task. Bonn was worth it. Bonn would always be worth it.
“Step aside,” commanded Raelyn with all the haughtiness and hubris she thought was expected of her, though she wore no crown and wielded no staff. “I need what lies at the centre of that building, and you would do well not to stand in my way.”
The one thing she didn’t expect was for the Monarch to regard her with an expression of such pure empathy that it nearly shattered her false demeanour. ‘This one is different,’ she couldn’t help but think.
“As long as you do no harm upon my people, you may proceed.”
The mass of people heeded the Grand Monarch’s decision and parted, letting the Wildfire pass through. As she approached the ruined palace, memories and doubts continued clouding her mind. No, no, there could be no conciliation. There could be no forgiveness for the abominable crime she had been complicit in, especially not if she couldn’t even forgive herself.
She reached forward and grasped the makeshift mountain of rubble that barred entry, lifting it and casting it aside with only a mild exertion. She could see it now – a roughly-hewn sphere of Arelium lodged in the ground, radiating a frightening volume of energy. These passive emanations, the glow that comes from the soul of any Sparkwielder, were invisible to the naked eye of anyone bereft of the Spark.
Bonn was inside – Raelyn could easily recognize the familiar radiance of her sister’s soul. She walked right up to the sphere, pressed the palm of her hand against it, and sent out a pulse of her own. ‘It’s me. You’re safe now.’ The few who had dared to follow the Wildfire into the stadium bore witness to the truly magnificent sight of the crystalline mass gently unfolding like a flower bud, revealing a young girl dressed in an intricately adorned robe.
Ignoring all the people watching them, the two shared a joyful embrace. This reunion could almost be considered touching, if it weren’t for the fear of what the Wildfire may decide to do next. Slaying one was already a miraculous feat for the Larnachians, and the Sparkwielders weren’t keen on pledging themselves to another overlord.
“Sis! You came for me!” exclaimed Bonn, clinging to her only remaining friend and guardian in the whole wide world.
“Of course I did,” said Raelyn with a warm smile and a voice most unlike the one she used prior. “Are you hurt? How are you feeling?”
“I’m… I’m fine. I-is he gone? I felt like he’s gone.”
“That’s right. He won’t be able to hurt you anymore. No one will. I promise.”
The child chanced a glance over her sister’s shoulder, and gasped. Wrenching herself out of Raelyn’s protective grasp, Bonn tentatively approached the person who grabbed her attention so strongly. It was Elizabeth Purpura, bruised and bloodied, miserable yet regal.
“Uhm… a-are you okay, ma’am? I’m really really sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you back there! I was just so scared and there was so much going on and I couldn’t control my powers and–”
Elizabeth gently raised a hand to interrupt Bonn’s frantic tirade.
“I am fine, and I appreciate your concern. What is your name, little one?”
“It’s Bonn!” she replied proudly. “Bonn Stillwater!”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Bonn. You may call me Elizabeth.”
“Nice to meet you too, Elizabeth!”
Raelyn’s concern turned to surprise, and then to uncertainty. She could still remember the hatred she once held for the previous Grand Monarch, the one whose callous policies had formed the rift between Sparkwielders and Continentals – and Elizabeth showed herself to be capable of bridging that seemingly insurmountable gap. Could she be trusted? Could she truly wish the best for Sparkwielders? Could–
It didn’t matter. Larnach didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except Raelyn and Bonn and their little home in the faraway Fostaian wilderness. The older Wildfire had to forcefully remind herself of this, lest she become distracted. Getting involved was too much of a risk.
“Bonn, we should leave now.”
“Wait!” called out the Grand Monarch. “Mrs. Stillwater, may I at least have your name?”
A strange feeling of hesitation – and Bonn’s pleading gaze – stopped Raelyn from simply flying away and forgetting about all of this.
“Miss Stillwater,” she corrected, giving the royal her best ‘distinctly unimpressed’ expression. “Raelyn Stillwater.”
“Miss Stillwater,” began Elizabeth with a tone of utmost respect, “I plead for your help.”
“My help?” parrotted Raelyn, startled by the last thing she could have possibly expected.
“I want to build a better world, a world where all the people of the Continent can live in harmony, a world where Sparkwielders like you and your sister can lead full, peaceful, happy lives without fear of discrimination or judgement. I have held this dream for many years, and I humbly request your help in making it a reality.”
Raelyn gritted her teeth, a heavy sensation forming in her chest. She wanted the Grand Monarch to hate her, she wanted them all to hate her, to hurl vitriol and railgun slugs, to do anything that wasn’t this. The offer Elizabeth was making, the future she was proposing and the two sisters’ place in it… could it be real?
“Do you think I owe you anything?” she finally asked, loading this question with the final remains of animosity she had to throw at the Larnachians.
There was silence, while Elizabeth made a tactful pause with an expression that was perfectly cordial yet remained genuine.
“That is for you to decide.”
It was at this moment that Raelyn was struck with the realization that she was afraid. Six years of hiding from the consequences of her actions in an idyllic bubble, and now, given the opportunity to repent, to right her wrongs, to give Bonn the chance for a better life, she was just going to turn away and leave? Raelyn’s breath halted in her throat, and she fell to her knees, not taking her eyes off the Grand Monarch’s meek, majestic figure.
“...h-how?” was all she managed to force out at first in a disbelieving whisper. “How can you forgive me so easily?”
Elizabeth approached the Wildfire with a light step, unassuming and unthreatening. The amassing group of soldiers and Sparkwielders behind her watched the scene with sheer fascination.
“I hold no ill will towards you,” said Elizabeth as she kneeled down on the dirty ground in front of Raelyn. “You may find that difficult to believe, but it is true. Hatred is not a feeling I can afford to bear in these times.”
Raelyn gazed into the Grand Monarch’s eyes and was captivated by their brilliant red hue. She had once looked into the eyes of those with the most powerful souls on the Continent, yet Elizabeth’s were the brightest and deepest she had ever seen.
“After all,” spoke Elizabeth, lowering her voice to a whisper as she took Raelyn’s hands into hers, “I can feel you’ve punished yourself enough.”
Raelyn let out a long, shaky sigh as Elizabeth’s comforting presence made the pressure inside her gradually unwind. They were strangers, they should have been mortal enemies, and yet Raelyn has never before felt such intense connection and understanding. The path was clear.
“I suppose there’s no more need to keep up this facade of pride,” she said, standing back up, “for I have none. All I’ve got left is Bonn, and I’m only gonna do this for her.”
At that moment, it was as if the whole City fell dead silent, awaiting the Wildfire’s decision. She gathered herself, took a deep breath, and spoke with the kind of confidence she hadn’t been able to harness for many years.
“I will help you, Grand Monarch Elizabeth.”
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Some time later, the most important collection of people gathered in the most meagre space – a Grand Monarch, a Meister-General, a General, two Wildfires, and a Flame all sitting on folding chairs in a small tent. Bonn positioned herself on Raelyn’s lap as the latter was subjected to the gaze of four people of which only two showed any trust in her whatsoever. The General hid it well but something about her irked him, and the Flame regarded her with doubt and caution – though she understood why, and accepted it.
“Miss Stillwater,” began the Meister-General as a technician laid their laptop onto the table, “though this may seem like the beginning of an interrogation, I assure you that it is only an inquiry.”
The laptop’s screen displayed still images of two Sparkwielders – captioned as ‘Sunbeam’ and ‘Sage’ – taken from the footage of the Royal Palace’s destruction. Sunbeam was captured in the moment of channelling one of her devastating lasers, while Sage was shown weaving a complex Sparkrune spell.
“We would appreciate it greatly if you could tell us all that you know about these two Wildfires – their motives, their current location, and the extent of their power. Since you have graced our City with a visit, we can only assume that they are capable of doing so as well. Additionally,” he added, momentarily glancing at Bonn, “please inform us if there are any other Wildfire-class Sparkwielders beyond the ones we currently know of.”
“Very well,” said Raelyn, trying to suppress a feeling of nervousness. “Gods, where do I even begin…”
“From the beginning, perhaps?” suggested Elizabeth reassuringly.
“So, me and Bonn, we’ve known Eiden for a good while before… everything. Ah, that’s the one you call Sage. He was a Pyre, just like the both of us once were, so what he had in raw power, he lacked in precision, but he never let that stop him. He studied Sparkrune, practised inscribing ritual circles, really tried to get to the bottom of how it all worked. I admired that about him, helped him with his research.
“I don’t really know how it happened, but he met these two Pyres – or they found him, I suppose. One’s Phoebe, or Sunbeam for you, and the other is… well, was Campbell. I never liked them. They wanted power, they were obsessed with it. Worst of all, they had a plan.
“They had Eiden create this ritual, a method for expanding a Sparkwielder’s soul by drawing extra energy from the very plane of existence in which it resides. I… I don’t even know what to think of him. It was groundbreaking, he was a genius, but… he never did know where to draw a line.
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“So the three of them prepared to do it, and dragged me and Bonn into it as well. I was so foolish back then, I thought that if I had this power, I could protect her from whatever the world could throw at us. So… we conducted the ritual. It changed us. Made us stronger.”
The word ‘stronger’ was spat by Raelyn like a grave curse.
“But… it also bound us to a pact. We know each other’s locations, and can summon each other through it, too. Here, let me show you.”
Raelyn began making small, precise movements with her hands, forming a compact ritual circle in the air in front of her. Each trained gesture remotely added another element to the orange-tinted spell, many of which were known neither to Larnach, nor to Sparkwielders. Finally, the circle oriented itself horizontally and projected a detailed contour map of the Continent.
“An invention of Eiden’s,” explained Raelyn, making one more gesture. Now, two coloured dots were present on the map – a blue one in the mountainous far north of Thuaid, and a yellow one in the heartland of Iontach. “There’s Eiden, and there’s Phoebe. Well, these are their past locations.”
“Then where are they now?” asked the Meister-General, examining the map with muted fascination.
“I only know one thing, and it’s that they are no longer on the Continent. They left shortly after Campbell’s death. The pact does not extend beyond the landmass, so we’re no longer connected.”
“Do you have any idea where they could’ve gone?”
“I’m sorry, but… I don’t,” guiltily admitted Raelyn, fidgeting in her chair. “I really don’t. I haven’t had any contact with them ever since… since…”
Raelyn paused, and a heavy silence hung over the room. In this tense interim, Bonn did the best thing she could – which was to hug her big sister as tightly as possible. Raelyn held her in return, and found the courage to speak again.
“...since the attack on the Palace. That was the last time we all met together. I don’t know what they’ve been doing all these years. Maybe they’ve changed. Maybe for the worse.”
“I understand,” said the Meister-General. As little as he showed it, Elizabeth could see that he was very slowly warming up to the Wildfire. “What information you can provide will be incredibly useful to us nonetheless. We shall investigate the locations provided, when possible.”
At that moment the meeting was momentarily interrupted when a petty officer entered the tent, requesting Director-General McCarter’s presence. The simultaneous attention of everyone present nearly made them back out due to sheer self-preservation.
“What could be so important that Colonel Washington can’t handle it?” the General asked them with a withering glare.
“I-it, ah… it concerns an agent under your supervision, sir.”
That made him raise an eyebrow.
“You may leave, Director-General McCarter,” said the Meister-General. “We will continue without you.”
“Understood.”
Left with no other choice, Austin allowed the officer to lead him out into the open and towards a nearly unnavigable section of ruins. He spent most of the walk fighting off a feeling of anxiety concerning the Stargazers, but by the time he realized what this was actually about, he could see it with his own two eyes.
The Hawk.
Dying.
The pitiful creature hung impaled by a stray piece of rebar in the wall, twitching and bleeding, its respirator emitting hoarse wheezing and hissing. Its wings were bent hopelessly out of shape, stuck in a half-unfolded position. One of its eyes was shattered, while the other stared ominously at the people in front of it. It weakly raised a jagged claw to swat in their general direction, then began choking on its own sickly blood.
“We’ve only just found it,” explained the officer. “The medics are too afraid to approach it. What do you suggest we do, General?”
“I suggest you stay silent.”
McCarter approached the wounded beast, remaining just out of reach of its claws. He momentarily considered the idea of pulling out his handgun and putting it out of its misery, and yet as much as it seemed like a mindless monster, it felt wrong to treat it like one. There must have still been something left of the person it once was, somewhere deep inside. It did not deserve such an ignoble end.
Driven more by instinct than a conscious decision, Austin took a deep breath, stared down the creature with every last bit of his authority, and began to speak.
“Sergeant Acacius Ford.”
The Hawk froze.
“By the authority vested in me by the Meister-General and the Grand Monarch, I, Director-General Austin McCarter, hereby relieve you of duty.”
It looked at Austin with what was, perhaps, understanding, stopped struggling, and quietly died.
The General took off his cap, standing there in solemn silence. All he felt now was a gaping hollowness. Was this all the honour Larnach had to afford for its most dedicated soldier? A soldier who was dragged from the brink of death by his own brother to serve again? A soldier stripped of his life and humanity, reduced to an animalistic killing machine for the sake of the cause?
Was it right to fight atrocity with atrocity? Was it worth it?
“Give him a proper funeral. It’s the least we can do.”
…would it ever be?
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Adrach was a paragon of advancement, considered to be one of the exalted jewel cities of Larnach by virtue of being the shining beacon of research and development that kept the kingdom at the cutting edge of technology. But for every sunlit laboratory where smiling scientists created unparalleled wonders, there was a chamber buried deep in the oppressive underground complex of ‘Lock and Key’ where people burned their morals at the pyre of progress.
Director-General McCarter was paying a visit to one of the latter.
As he walked through Lockenkee’s metallic corridors with a briefcase in hand, Austin had plenty of time to be thoroughly immersed in the facility’s atmosphere. It was… different, now, in the days following the Battle of Larnach. There was a sense of tension, anticipation, of great momentum with an unknown direction. Though the Grand Monarch’s primary policy was that of forgiveness, the air was saturated with unpaid sins.
But the General had only one reason for being here, and that reason was the person he loathed most of all – Allister Ford. As much as he’d prefer to avoid the sleazy scientist, there were several matters he had to settle with him before he’d preferably never have to see him again.
Passing through the cybernetics department, Austin approached the blast door securing Allister’s laboratory – and it yielded effortlessly to his absolute clearance. He stepped inside, only to find it mostly empty and jarringly quiet. No work was being done here, and the owner was nowhere to be found.
The impunity of rank began to wear off, and McCarter was suddenly struck with the uncomfortable feeling of being an intruder. Curiously examining the idle fabrication benches and other assorted advanced equipment did little to alleviate his anxiety, though as he proceeded further, his attention was captured by the one desk that wasn’t completely desolate.
It featured an empty coffee mug, several assorted notes and schematics covered in a thick layer of dust, a few keepsakes of indeterminate meaning, and two picture frames standing side by side. One held a photo of Allister and Acacius, smiling and joyful, the eyes of the former man possessing a spark of life that Austin had not ever seen in him before. The other picture was that of Allister and the Stargazers in full uniform, and though it had no conceivable resemblance to a family photo, it strangely still felt like it.
Austin reached out to take it for a closer look, but swiftly retracted his hand upon hearing the sound of another door opening in the laboratory. He turned, noticing Allister at the same time as Allister noticed him, and for just a moment he could see the scientist’s expression forcibly shifting from sheer dejection to that ever-so-familiar saccharine haughtiness.
“Ah, Director-General McCarter! What a surprise to see you here! I wasn’t expecting guests, so I do apologise for the lack of a proper welcome.”
Something seemed clearly off about Allister. His coat was crumpled, his hair was unkempt, his grin was strained, and the exaggerated gestures he was usually so fond of were rigid and lifeless. Whatever facade he was putting up in front of the General was on the verge of crumbling.
“So, what brings you to my humble workspace?”
McCarter let out a short sigh. He hadn’t expected this meeting to be particularly pleasant, but facing the scientist in such a sorry state only made him more wary of how it might turn out.
“Are you aware of the passing of Sergeant Acacius Ford?”
Allister’s face twitched.
“I attended his funeral, you know. Why do you see the need to remind me of this?”
Though with a moment’s hesitation, Austin opened the briefcase and presented it to the scientist.
“By my recommendation and by the personal order of the Meister-General, he has been posthumously awarded the Silver Crescent for outstanding dedication to the Larnachian military. As his next of kin, you are entitled to receive it.”
For several excruciatingly slow seconds, Allister simply stared at what was inside, his expression completely frozen. Then, with trembling hands, he reached in and took the medal. His eyes didn’t even seem to be looking at it, but through it. He forgot to breathe.
“Doctor Ford?” asked McCarter, unable to fight the feeling of genuine concern no matter how hard he tried. “Are you fine?”
Allister’s grotesque artificial grin grew even wider. And then he began to laugh. But it was not a laugh of joy, no, nor was it anything even remotely adjacent to happiness or satisfaction – it was a desperate, uncontrollable cackle, something put in place of tears by a person who didn’t know how to cry. He fell to his knees, holding the medal close to his chest, and continued his mad, humourless laughter, the laughter of someone who has lost everything he has ever held dear, the laughter of someone so overwhelmed with regret and self-hatred that he physically couldn’t help but laugh at his own unpitiable misery.
Finally, the cackling subsided. The scientist looked up at the General, and as he looked back into those wide, panicked eyes, he realized they were not the eyes of a madman or a monster – they were the eyes of a hopeless, broken man.
“W-why?.. Why are you doing this to me?” asked Allister, his voice raw, his breathing short and ragged. “I-is this some kind of mockery?.. or– or– or is this my punishment? Are you here to watch me suffer? To make me pay?!”
Austin’s facial features did not betray the whole breadth of inner turmoil he struggled with while searching for the right words. Some part of him revelled in the righteous satisfaction of standing above this despicable wreck, but he forced himself to cast aside such cynical thoughts. He was not that kind of person.
Finally, he set aside the briefcase and, compelled by some undivinable sense of empathy, kneeled down on one leg to face the scientist directly.
“You have tried very, very hard to make me hate you, Dr. Ford, and have hitherto been successful. But… I… I am no longer so sure, now. So, no, I do not derive any satisfaction from seeing you suffer like this. Nobody would. Please, stand up.”
Allister seemed to be calming down as he processed the General’s words, his despair turning to a sort of concussed meekness. He picked himself off the ground, avoiding McCarter’s gaze as he walked right past him and sat behind the desk. There was no more mask, no more deception – they both knew it. There was only Allister Ford… or whatever was left of him.
“I see now, why I chose you,” spoke the scientist with an aloof tone, not even daring to face who he was talking to. “You’re such an insufferably good person.”
There was a pause, which felt simultaneously poignant and awkward.
“So… How are the kids?”
The General’s expectations were, once again, shattered.
“They’re… well. Why do you ask, if I may inquire?”
Allister tilted his head curiously, still not looking at Austin. He put down the medal and picked up one of the pictures on the desk with a slightly trembling hand – the one with the Stargazers. He looked at it with fondness.
“They were more to me than test subjects,” he replied, his voice weak yet imbued with deep emotion.
McCarter found this to be more believable than he wanted to.
“In all honesty, I… I never thought you cared.”
Upon hearing that, Allister abruptly turned to stare the General directly in the eyes. He bore an expression of genuine offence.
“I always cared! I cared ever since I found them in that orphanage, ever since I gave them the hope that their lives weren’t worthless! I schooled them, I fed them, I forged and tailored their equipment, I taught them swordsmanship just as he once taught me, and the more I cared, the more I realized I could never give them true happiness! So I played up that image of a heartless monster in front of you as I always did – because everyone thinks that’s who I am, so why bother proving them wrong? – I made you despise me, made you want to protect them from me, to give them what I wasn’t able to! And where am I now?! I have nothing, I have nobody, all because I cared too much!”
The unbridled rant ended as abruptly as it started, with Allister burying his face in his hands, overcome by helplessness and dejection.
“I suppose that’s just what I deserve…” he mumbled.
“No, it’s not,” blurted out Austin before his thoughts even caught up to his words. “I… I should thank you.”
Allister peered out with a sceptical look in his eyes.
“For what?”
“For… for getting us all together. You made a good choice there. With how everything has turned out… maybe I don’t need to hold against you the means to the end.”
The scientist sniffed, and managed a very small smile. A true smile.
“I’m… I’m glad you think so. Does that… does that mean you forgive me?”
Austin pondered this question for a moment, and realized he was suddenly so conflicted on the matter that he had no choice but to deflect it entirely.
“The first person you need to seek forgiveness from is yourself. The rest comes after.”
“I’ll try,” said Allister with a chuckle.
The two men remained silent for a while, though the air between them felt much less frigid than before. There was much for the both of them to think about.
“There’s one other matter I wished to raise with you,” began McCarter, eventually.
“Go ahead.”
“The children… Can you remove their implants?”
The scientist regarded Austin with a tense narrow gaze.
“I can. That was always intended, be it for upgrading or for total removal. But have you asked them if that’s what they want?”
Oh.
To this, McCarter found no retort. He had truly failed to consider their own thoughts on the matter instead of simply assuming the best for them. Allister had effortlessly humbled him, and it felt more embarrassing than frustrating.
“I… I have not. I should. I will.”
“Then we can discuss this further when you do,” concluded the scientist with a hint of self-satisfaction.
There was little else to be said or done. Austin gave a curt farewell and prepared to leave, but just as he neared the exit door, he heard Allister’s hesitant voice:
“C-could you… could you tell them I said hi?”
He turned around, saw the scientist’s almost pleading expression, and, unexpectedly even for himself, said:
“Very well.”
On that day, the General left Lockenkee with a smile.
----------------------------------------
Erika was cold. Where her soul once glowed like a homely hearth, there was now only a weak, faint glimmer. Her mind laid dormant for what felt like a freezing eternity while the tattered remains of her essence slowly accumulated scraps of energy. Would it ever be enough to bring her back, she who devoted her life to healing others but could not heal herself when she needed it the most?
No… that wasn’t all. There was something else. A faint sensation of the presence of others. An external influence gently helping her soul mend itself. Words of concern and gratitude reaching her ears, their meaning lost yet the emotion within them leaving a lasting imprint. Erika was not alone.
And so, by tiny increments, warmth returned to her.
And when she was ready, she opened her eyes.
There was a blinding light, which took some time for her eyes to adjust to and recognize as a vividly decorated hospital room. Moving her body proved to be an immense struggle, and she barely managed to crane her head in the direction of the nightstand. Upon it was a vase full of fragrant flowers and a modest heap of sealed letters. Any worries or memories were relegated in favour of this immediate stimuli, and so Erika spent many minutes patiently probing the limits of her soul’s abilities before she was able to telekinetically grasp one of the envelopes and float it close enough to read the outside text.
‘From: Austin McCarter’
Simultaneously, she took another one.
‘From: Rose, Lime, Gold, and Navy McCarter’
Though such exertion came with a painful strain, she felt compelled to look at another one.
‘From: Viola Washington’
There was just one more left. She couldn’t stop now.
‘From: Victor–
But it proved too much to handle, and the letters all fell back onto the nightstand. Erika was overcome with petty frustration, but all she could do was squint her eyes and make a barely audible groaning sound.
Though she was ready to try again, her efforts had to be interrupted when she faintly felt the emanations of a fellow healing-attuned soul somewhere nearby. Moments later, she heard the door open and turned to see a Sparkwielder nurse, wearing the exact same white-green uniform that had been used by workers like her pre-crisis. It even sported Arelium bracelets. If Erika didn’t know better, she’d think she had travelled back in time.
“Gods, you’re awake!” exclaimed the nurse with a pleasantly surprised expression as she approached Erika. “Can you move? Can you speak?”
A pensive ‘mmm’ was the only answer Erika could give.
“Oh dear. Let me help you with that.”
The nurse waved her hands over Erika’s body in practised motions, gathering a carefully measured volume of healing energy and using it to rejuvenate her muscles. Within moments, she found the strength to sit up.
“Please, take it easy. You have been in a coma due to the damage your soul had sustained. Do you mind if I leave to call the doctor? She will be able to answer any questions you may have.”
“Ah… y-yes, of course,” replied Erika, managing a polite smile as she stretched and rubbed her eyes.
While the nurse was gone, Erika examined her surroundings in more detail. She was the only patient present in the room, which contained various medical and not-quite-medical equipment – from IV drips to strange bulky machinery to curious items adorned with precisely cut Arelium crystals. It felt almost embarrassing to have so many different things dedicated solely to her.
The mind-bogglingly jarring contrast between her last memories and her current environment was something Erika elected to set aside in favour of settling into a comfortable meditation pose and looking within to ascertain the condition of her soul. It felt raw, aching with every excess motion, yet her Spark radiated a familiar, comforting warmth. It helped keep her grounded.
Soon enough, another person entered the room – a Sparkwielder woman with short brown hair dressed in a doctor coat, holding some kind of medical file.
“Ah, Erika Kayleigh!” began the doctor with a tone of fond recognition. “It is such a joy to see you awake and recovering. I am Dr. Rita Langley, head of the ousiology department here at Larnach City Hospital.”
“Do I… know you?” queried Erika with mild scepticism as Dr. Langley took a nearby chair to sit at her bedside.
“I don’t think we’ve met before, but you have been our longest and most difficult case here. It has been about sixty or so days since the Battle of Larnach, and you’ve been admitted to our hospital for… let me see…” She glanced at the file in her hands. “...fifty-two and counting. I understand this must all be confusing for you, perhaps overwhelming, but don’t worry. I’ll brief you on what happened in the time you were unconscious.”
Erika listened attentively at the rundown of important events following the death of Wildfire Campbell – the appearance of the new Grand Monarch, the ceasefire, the arrival of Wildfire Raelyn, and the long, arduous, yet surprisingly successful process of restoration and reintegration that had followed ever since.
“Hold on,” interrupted Erika at one point, “there’s an entire department for souls? You even have other cases?”
“Yes, primarily victims of Project Discindo. It’s… an unfortunate topic, but our patients have shown great progress! Your recovery in particular is an important milestone for us. If I may say, you’ve become something of a legend among us Sparkwielders.”
“I… have?”
“Why, of course! Casting a resurrection spell, on a Sparkless soul, single-handedly, and succeeding… you have done the impossible! You’re practically a role model for all–”
Dr. Langley then seemed to become embarrassingly self-aware and turned her gaze away from Erika with a curt cough.
“Ahem, I do apologize… I’ve allowed my enthusiasm to get the better of me. Back to the matter at hand. Though there are still some things we need to take care of first, the fact that you’ve regained consciousness means we’ll most likely be able to release you quite soon. You’ve had several very dedicated visitors during your stay – I’m sure they will be elated to receive the good news.”
While the doctor fussed around with some cursory examinations, Erika’s attention was drawn to the letters once again. She took this time to open and read them, finding that they all began quite similarly – by explaining to Erika the aftermath of the Battle of Larnach and the author’s role in it – but had a much more personal conclusion.
“...
When I went to activate that warhead, I knew there was no going back. I forfeited my life to keep the people I care about safe, and yet you risked everything to give me a second chance. Words fail to describe the immeasurable debt I owe you for this, and though I don’t even know if I will ever be able to pay it back, I can at least try. When you wake up, I promise that I will grant any wish or request you may have. For now, I’ve simply been making the best of the time you’ve gifted me. Thank you, Erika.
Wishing you the best,
Austin McCarter”
If Erika were to be asked why she had tried to cast that spell, she would struggle for a reasonable answer. It had simply felt like the right thing to do, and now, knowing that Austin and the children were alive and well filled her with a feeling of warmth unlike any other.
“...
Dad said we’ll have a real house soon (and go to school and stuff), and when you wake up we’re going to invite you to stay over, so please wake up. You were really nice to us, and you saved my Rose’s life, and Dad’s life too, and we didn’t even get to say thanks. You’re the coolest Sparkwielder ever. We miss you.
Sincerely,
Rose, Lime, Gold, and Navy McCarter”
Erika hardly ever thought of herself as anything more than the meagre Ember she was, and yet the conviction with which these children declared her to be ‘the coolest’ proved to be quite infectious.
“...
I am sure Austin has already promised you the world, but that does not change the fact that I am in your debt also. There was hardly anything you stood to gain by performing that near-suicidal ritual, and though it has cost you dearly, I am immensely glad that you went through with it. Austin is a very important person to me. It pains me to even imagine what I would do if you had not brought him back. Regardless, your brave and selfless actions on that day have had a great impact on many people. Once you awaken, you can expect a commendation from the Grand Monarch herself – this I can guarantee.
With highest regards,
Viola Washington”
With how humble Erika tended to be, such dazzling praise only served to embarrass her. Although the sentiment was nice, she would much rather avoid the fanfare.
“...
I find myself thinking about that day very often, and when I do, I’m always hounded by a gnawing feeling of regret. When that accursed Wildfire nearly killed you, I could do nothing but watch. When you stayed behind at the Quarry, I didn’t turn back to remain with you. And when you nearly burned away your soul to cast that spell, I wasn’t there to help. I suppose there’s no use in wishing to turn back time, but if I could, I would have sacrificed myself a dozen times over in your stead. I miss you, Erika. I miss your kind smile and your inspiring resolve. I didn’t even realize how much you truly mean to me until you were no longer there. I hope with all my heart and soul that you fully recover, and when you do, I also hope you won’t hate me for being so powerless.
Decisively yours,
Victor Heimdall”
Erika’s eyes scanned the last paragraph of that letter again and again, soaking in the tremendously heavy meaning behind its words. Victor… Victor… Did he truly think of her so highly? And… what did she even think of him, for that matter? A strong yet indefinable feeling washed over her each time she tried to formulate an answer to that question. Eventually, she realized there wasn’t much she could do from the confines of her hospital bed.
She and Victor were going to have a very serious conversation.
But that was only one of many things she wanted to do. A whole new world awaited her out there, a world she could have only dreamed of before, and there were suddenly so many people who cared about her. It was exciting, perhaps a little scary, but it was, most of all, comforting. No longer would she have to serve the whims of a merciless overlord, fighting for a cause that didn’t make any sense, li ving through each day not knowing if she would see the next.
For so many years, Erika felt lost.
But now, she was finally found.
----------------------------------------
Following over six years of abandonment and several months of active restoration, the McCarter residence was home to a family once again. It was far from an ordinary family, perhaps not even entirely a family by some definitions, but it was a family nonetheless. With the ash settling at last, there was a chance for something new and beautiful to blossom – and Austin McCarter had done everything in his power to grasp this opportunity.
Though the walls of the house evoked bittersweet memories, he was ready to handle them, for he was no longer alone. The children – now legally his – were talking and playing with ‘Aunt’ Erika on the second floor, while he and Viola were having charmingly plain tea in the kitchen. The Colonel had insisted on being present at the grand reopening of this humble dwelling, while Erika was invited because the kids would absolutely not have it any other way.
“It would seem that you have competition in the way of parenting,” noted Viola at one point with a poignant smirk.
Austin did not show even the slightest indication of being struck by that comment.
“Or perhaps it is you whose position is being contested,” he retorted with the most matter-of-factly tone he could muster.
What he did not expect, however, was that Viola would respond to this by blushing.
“W-well I never!..” she sputtered indignantly while averting her gaze, though she knew her position in this game of banter was already hopeless. “I saved your life more times than either of us can count; she only did it once!”
“Now, now,” said Austin with a placating gesture, though he couldn’t resist a friendly chuckle. “I’d never want to replace you with anyone, not even if they brought me back from the dead.”
Viola gave him a pout, and then a withering glare.
“Make certain that my trust in you is not misplaced.”
Austin flinched despite himself. Even after knowing her for so long, he would be lying if he said she wasn’t still able to intimidate him a little.
“Regardless,” she continued, “what are you planning to do now?”
“Retire, I suppose,” hesitantly replied McCarter. “It’s the right decision to make at this point, I know, but… it just feels strange. I’ve held a military post for a quarter of my entire life. It’s not something I can throw away so easily.”
“Have you not done enough, Austin?” asked Viola with an empathetic tone. “Those children need you far more than Larnach does, now.”
“I understand, I really do,” said Austin. “But it’s still difficult. And besides…”
He trailed off due to a sort of muted embarrassment and fell silent with a despondent sigh.
“What is the issue? Do not worry, you can tell me.”
Though he would have preferred not to, Viola’s reassuring voice coaxed him into continuing.
“We’ve… we’ve been in this together for so long. You’ve always been there for me when I was at my lowest. You’re… I… I can’t just leave you behind, Vi.”
Viola was exceptionally touched by this, but she was also quite visibly exasperated. Crossing her arms, she stared Austin dead in the eyes and prepared to deliver an irrefutable ultimatum.
“Then I shall retire too.”
If McCarter were drinking his tea, he would’ve choked on it.
“Why are you so surprised? Do not think you are the only one here who would not want to become distant from the other. The military will be fine enough without me. As such, I am moving in. Effective immediately.”
The expression on Austin’s face at that moment was nothing short of the pinnacle of incredulousness.
“I have had enough fighting and commanding to last me several lifetimes. This, here, is where I belong. With you. With the kids. I cannot have it any other way.”
McCarter was so thoroughly dumbstruck by Viola’s declaration that he could do nothing but sit there in silence for several seconds. As it turned out, that was just enough time for her to run out of bravado.
“B-but only i-if you would w-want me to, o-of course,” she stammered awkwardly upon reaching the breaking point, too embarrassed to face him at all. She then mumbled something apologetic but entirely unintelligible.
While Viola chastised herself for being so excessively bold, Austin found her behaviour to be quite endearing.
“Come on, Vi. Don’t be so shy. Look at me.”
Compelled by his gentle request, she did exactly that – and saw a warm, comforting smile on his face. He reached out across the table to take her hand into his, and it sent shivers down her spine.
“To have you here, to have all of us together like this… It would mean the world to me. You can stay here as long as you want – I don’t see any problem with it. The kids like you, after all, and I do too.”
“Y-you d-do?!” she blurted out louder than she’d prefer, her face becoming redder with each second.
“Yes, I do,” he replied with a mind-bogglingly nonchalant tone. “I’ve taken it for granted this whole time, but if you want confirmation, then let me tell you that you’re the most important person in my entire life. Does it need to be more complicated than that?”
Though Viola’s heart was racing as fast as it did on the field of battle, she managed to scrape together some semblance of composure. There was a special peace of mind in seeing him casually behold her like the most precious thing in the whole wide world. Such simple, yet deeply earnest reciprocation…
That’s just the kind of person Austin was.
“W-well, I… I suppose not necessarily.”
“And if not, we can figure out the finer details along the way, right?”
“Right,” concluded Viola with a smile.
What neither of them were aware of was that the Stargazers had embarked on an espionage operation, lurking just out of sight and eavesdropping on their conversation. They’d even managed to drag Erika along with them, assuring her that the responsibility for the gross breach of privacy would be taken solely by them.
“Does this mean she will be our mom?” queried Lime to the others with a nearly inaudible whisper.
“They’re clearly in love with each other,” said Gold, “and I wouldn’t mind it anyway.”
“There are four of us, and only one of him,” reasoned Navy. “Dad could use any help he can get.”
“It will be his decision,” noted Rose. “Though let’s put it to a vote, just in case.”
The “shall Viola Washington be accepted as a mother if it comes to that?” resolution passed 4 to 0. Erika enjoyed an observer seat in the Stargazer council – which is to say they relayed their thoughts to her in hushed whispers. She found the whole situation to be heart-stoppingly adorable.
Soon enough, everyone was gathered together in the kitchen, with Lime and Erika competing to see who’s the better chef as they prepared a grand dinner out of the large stocks of freshly-bought produce. The other children served as Lime’s assistants, while Austin and Viola did their best to help Erika. There was much banter and bonding and bickering, and the end result of this culinary battle was a truly magnificent assortment of dishes.
And as they all sat behind one big table and indulged in the food, it goes without saying that this was much more than a dinner – it was a family gathering, a gathering of people who have found happiness and comfort in the presence of each other. Joy and warmth saturated the air, seeping into the very foundation of this old house, and the dark echoes of the crisis became less and less noticeable. There were still so many years ahead, waiting to be filled with bright moments and fulfilling experiences to compensate for the struggle and despair of the past.
Austin McCarter was having the best day of his life.
When the golden sun doth rise
Fills with shining light the skies
Then you fade away from sight
Shine no more 'till comes the night