Fay and Byron found themselves outside New Albion, as she looked back, she saw the towers burn. It was, horrible, Byron pulled her with him, “Mom, we cannot linger.”

She nodded and followed him over the route to the mountains in the West. “Have you seen dad, before you came to find me?”

Fay grunted and sat down behind a giant boulder, “I am hurt, give me a moment,” she grabbed a few herbs out of her pocket, she smeared them over her injuries.

Byron sat down next to her, “We almost died in there, the dollies stepped in front of the bullets that would hit me, Voodoopunks jumped in and fought the military as I tried to escape.”

Fay grumbled, she ripped his robe apart and looked at the bullet wound, “The military using guns. I know we had them, but, I never thought they would use them against civilians. Who started this riot?”

Byron grunted as Fay tried to patch him up, “I almost calmed the crowd, I had them, mom. They would have backed off.”

Fay gazed at him with an intense look, “What went wrong?”

“A guard, the one that busted us for vandalizing that shop showed up, he was the one to light the first torch and set flame to dad’s shop.”

Fay looked away for a moment and shed a tear, She sent that guard to bust Amelia, she did not think it would escalate into this horror, Silof is dead, because of her.

Byron gritted his teeth as Fay got distracted with patching him up, “Careful, mom, that stings.”

She sighed, “Sorry, why did you never tell me you had a child?”

“I thought you would have been, angry. Just like you thought I would be angry if you told me you wanted the dollies to be destroyed.”

Fay looked at him, “You know?”

“No, but you just confirmed my suspicions. What happened to dad?”

“I killed him, right as the riots started. I have been working in the shadows for a long time with Silof to rid New Albion of the dollies, I never intended for this to happen.”

Byron shook his head, “Mom, you could not have known they would destroy New Albion.”

Fay started to cry, “I am so, sorry, I never meant for anyone to get hurt, I just did what I had to do, to save New Albion, and instead, it burns.”

Byron shed a tear, “You wanted to use me, to stop my father, and you killed him. I did love him, you know.”

“I know, my angel, I know, I loved him too, it seemed he had a change of heart.”

Byron shook his head, “He was holding a facade, he knew about Silof, and your plan from the very beginning, he got so lost in his evil ways, he kept it up. He wanted you to stop him, and you did, but the cost was Silof’s death, and New Albion. Who knows what will happen to the city now?”

Fay looked at his wounds, “Luckily, these wounds are not fatal, you will have pain for a while, we are both battered and bruised, and, I never knew. I only saw him for the evil he created, I guess, I was also not paying attention. Only to make sure you could free us.”

Byron slowly got up, “If you had not sent that guard, or if Jasper had not sung, he would have won. Now, my daughter needs to grow up without her father. Since we can never return to New Albion. For if we do, they will come after come us and kill our families in front of us. Who knows what will become of the Voodoopunks, the ones that didn’t die a horrible death?”

Fay stood up, she offered an embrace to her son, he sighed deeply and hugged her. Byron spoke with charm and determination. “We should make our way to the mountains in the west, the road is short but perilous. We need to go through a forest, that leads to a small valley in the mountains. Also, you are forgiven.”

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Fay shed a tear, “Thank you,” In the distance she saw the flames of New Albion, which haunted her of her mistakes. “I wonder what will happen to New Albion.”

Byron grumbled and started walking with a slight limp, “We should leave,” he glanced back one last time and stared at the burning New Albion. To the west of New Albion, a small forest unfolded, its lush foliage creating a serene contrast to the chaos that gripped the city. Towering trees with branches intertwined formed a natural canopy,

Filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and earth, offering a welcome respite from the smoke and turmoil left behind in the city. Fay let out a melancholic smile, “Silof would have loved this forest, he gave his life, I wish he was with us.”

As Byron and Fay ventured deeper into the woodland, the sound of their footsteps softened by the thick carpet of fallen leaves, they discovered a hidden path only known to Voodoopunks leading towards the majestic mountains in the distance. The forest seemed to whisper ancient secrets, its inhabitants observing the passage of time with silent wisdom.

Approaching the western edge of the forest, the terrain gradually ascended, revealing a breathtaking panorama of towering peaks that pierced the sky. The mountains formed a majestic backdrop, their snow-capped summits glistened in the sunlight. At the base of the mountains, nestled within a secluded valley, a monastery emerged. Byron gasped in awe, “Wow, I heard about it, but I have never seen it in real life.”

Fay looked down, “I never left New Albion.”

The monastery, a tranquil sanctuary in the midst of nature’s grandeur, stood as a testament to the pursuit of spiritual enlightenment. Its architecture blended seamlessly with the surrounding landscape, and the sound of a distant waterfall added a soothing melody to the air. The valley cradled the monastery, creating a sense of isolation from the outside world.

Byron and Fay, guided by an innate sense of purpose, made their way towards the monastery, seeking refuge. The building is constructed with weathered stone and adorned with subtle carvings that tell tales of the monastery’s long history. They found the entrance and walked inside.

The interior of the monastery is designed for meditation and introspection, with spacious halls, stone corridors, and contemplative gardens. A central courtyard features a peaceful fountain, its gentle trickle providing a calming backdrop to the meditative atmosphere.

Byron looked at his mother, “This is, where we are going to hide? How long?”

Fay looked at the monks, practically ignoring them. The monks of the monastery are a diverse group, each possessing a unique blend of wisdom, serenity, and a profound understanding of the mysteries of existence. Clad in simple robes that reflect their commitment to humility and detachment from worldly pursuits, the monks move through their daily lives with a sense of purpose and spiritual dedication. “I have no idea.”

Byron looked at the monks his mother was observing, “Why do they not interact with us?”

“I am not sure, but I think there are enough resources around us to keep us fed and survive. This is the only place I can think of that is safe.”

Byron walked towards the courtyard and Fay followed him, “We are safe here, no one but the Voodoopunks can come here, or special people, like Annabel.” He looked down and shed a few tears, “I wonder if Jasper is alive, I love him.”

Fay looked at him, “I love my dad too, I am sure he is fine. As for Annabel, she is back in Elysium, she is no longer in a miserable doll form.”

Byron understood now, “That is why you did this? Even if those riots were not what you intended, you wanted to make the dolls, less miserable? That was your aim?”

Fay nodded, “I know they are miserable, Jasper helped plan this. He waited for the right moment to broadcast his song.”

Byron did not dare to ask, but he had to, “Did you mean to push Amelia over the edge?”

Fay clasped her hands together, which were battered and bruised from her recent fights, “Yes, it was, I am not proud of it, but I did not think it would spiral out of control like this. Silof, Jasper, Annabel and I, have been planning this for twenty years. The plan was for the Voodoopunks to be in control after this. With a sense that the dolls were miserable and wanted to go back to Elysium.”

Byron looked at his mother, conflicted with emotions. Understanding, anger, hatred, rage, love, it all brewed through him like a storm. “You know, your actions got Silof killed, right?”

Fay gulped and felt a lump in her throat, “I get that, there is no need to rub it in my face. He became a man of thinking, of philosophy. No home, nothing, and yet, he kept on fighting for New Albion, and look how it turned out.”

Byron sat down, and grabbed a pack of cards, “One day, we will return mother. One day, we will go back to New Albion, how about, we play a game of cards while we wait?”

Fay looked at him, she sat down and wiped away tears, “Alright, I love playing cards, this might be a long game as it might take a while before we can go back.”

Byron dealt her cards, “We will play a never ending game of cards to pass the time.”