Shark felt as if it were providence that Cerid Creed had dropped into their and Dorothea’s laps. This had to be a sign that it was finally time to face what had been weighing on them the most since the very day they had set foot in Equin.

News of an outsider had spread across the village, and Cerid stuck out like a shooting star in an empty black sky. He had been picked up and brought to Dorothea by a group of hunters, and they hadn’t been told to be discreet. Whispers, a quiet stream of wonder, and elbows pushing into arms and sides ran through the villagers. By the end of the night, countless stories would have circled through the populace as to what kind of person the newcomer was and why he had encroached on Equin’s sluggish peace so abruptly. And a member of Sacer’s Creed family at that! It was obvious with a single glance exactly who Cerid was.

After the boy was settled in Shark’s small but cozy apartment, they turned right back around and went back to Dorothea’s place. Hers had been the home of several generations of Atlins. Dorothea kept the rooms her forebears had once used clean but otherwise untouched from how they had been left, keeping only a small section of the house open for herself.

Shark found her exactly where they had expected: rocking on the porch swing with a large, fluffy blanket swallowing her up and making her look like a sad ball with a head. “Alright, Thea. Tell your good ol’ friend Sharkie what’s on your mind,” they said in a light but loving tone as they plopped beside her.

Dorothea scooted to make more room. “He was completely right.”

“About what?”

“Me being a terrible person.”

“He said you were cruel, not terrible,” Shark corrected, chipper.

“Helpful, Sharkie,” she said flatly. “There’s no difference. Not in my case.”

“And why do you agree with him?” That was the distinction that mattered.

She was silent for a while, and Shark listened as the old swing squealed each time they arced forward. It hadn’t used to do that. Small things reminded them how much time flew. “I thought…” Her hands wiggled out from the blanket’s mysterious folds to reveal a book clasped in her hands, some well-worn historical guide. “I thought that reading and listening to stories meant that I understood. But he’s seen war firsthand. I mean, look at the state he came to us in.”

“And what’s that got to do with you?” Shark asked gently, letting her sort out her own conscience as she spoke.

“That’s just the thing! Since the day… Ever since Mommy died, and so soon after Daddy died to boot, I’d always resolved myself to believe that it all had nothing to do with me, or that none of them had a right to my help if they were just going to keep tearing each other apart.” She paused and looked up at the slow trickle of snow that fluttered to the ground, filling out footprints. “But…”

“But?”

“I guess I… There’s no point to me living like I am now. If I’m going to die young anyway—and let’s be realistic about that—then should I do something useful for others by killing myself through using my magic to my limits? Or should I just while the rest of my life away? It’s just… Why am I even here, Shark?” She looked up at them with plaintive helplessness.

“I can’t tell you what to do, and I sure as shit have no idea what the meaning of life is.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed, turning forward again. “It’s something every person has to answer for themselves.”

“But, if it helps you make a choice…” Shark hesitated. No matter what, this was something they had to do. “I want to go back to Sacer.”

“What?” Dorothea’s eyes widened with panic. “Why?”

Shark couldn’t help but chuckle. “Not indefinitely, of course. This is my home now. But, Thea, I want to see my parents again. I want to close that door so I can really move on. It’s been six years, and I still think about it every day. I have to do this, and I think you have some choices of your own to make. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is…” They smiled, feeling a weight already lifting as the words were said. “I think we need to go back with Cerid.”

“Gods…” Dorothea muttered, looking both shocked and exhausted. “Nothing today has gone as expected.”

“At least you can say your life is interesting for once.”

She smiled some. “True.” Her gaze lowered as it always did when she was seriously contemplating. “I don’t know if I should go. To be honest, I’m scared of what might happen. But, well… At the very least, I’ll learn something. Besides,” she continued, tone becoming brusque as she turned away from sadness and towards action, “I’d never leave you to face your parents on your own. Of course I’m coming with you.”

Shark grinned and let out a short yet joyful laugh. “Aw, Thea. I love ya.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” She smiled gently and stood, bunching the blanket in her arms. “We need to pack. I hope this fits in my bag.”

“Trust me, where we’re going, you won’t need it.” Shark’s memory was coming alive with dreams of sticky summers, cool, lazy breezes, and daily prayers. A woman standing at the stove humming as she made a ruthlessly spicy chili, a man crafting lame rhymes to give words to her melody as his large hands kneaded a bread cooked with beer, each slice later slathered with honey that dripped down Shark’s fingers. Laughter between the three of them, something pure held in these mundane moments. Painful dreams, those, but precious all the same.

“You took that soldier boy home, right?” Dorothea asked.

“How’d you know?”

“It was the right thing to do. So I knew you’d do just that.” She nodded, taking a breath. “In any case… Tell him that I’ll revive his comrades. But I won’t promise anything else.”

“Will do. Thanks, Thea.”

She said nothing else but nodded slightly and smiled before turning away.

Shark would return to their old life, just for a little while, and everything would be resolved. No more pain, anger or regret to hold them back. Not anymore.