Epilogue I (Ijiria)

Despite all that went down during her rebellion against Ijiria, the Citadel still couldn’t forget about all of the good things Abigail Reiner brought to the country. The people loved her and even many of those who didn’t support the rebellion still mourned the death of the country’s greatest healer. Therefore, to keep the peace, a monument was erected in Erika's graveyard in honor of Abi Reiner. It stood tall, built of fine silver and gold, and during the daytime, it would sparkle beautifully. However, on that moonless night, there wasn’t a sparkle to be seen. Instead, it almost loomed over him, forcing him to recall all he had failed to do.

The hooded individual stared up at the statue of a tall woman with her hair flowing out behind her. Vines with flowers wrapped around her body and she held in her hands a small emerald ball that was meant to represent her healing magic. The monument was designed to remind the country of her good days rather than the days of that failed rebellion. He slowly approached the statue’s base and placed his hand on the obsidian plaque on its side.

Abigail Reiner.

The greatest healer Ijiria has ever known and Master of Nature.

Mother of the motherless.

May she be remembered for the good that she did rather than the corruption she spread.

He knelt down beside the statue and tried to keep his emotions at bay as he recalled the time he spent with her. He remembered her dazzlingly blue eyes and her radiant smile. Her long brown hair was always decorated with flowers and the comforting tone of her voice could make anybody calm. In recent days, he longed to hear it once again.

Hey, Abi. I know it’s been a while so I thought I’d pay you another visit. I wanted to apologize for everything I’m helping Nakoma do to your Children. They don’t deserve it, but there’s nothing I can do after what they did. I have no choice.

Nigreos and Album have gone after your son but I’ve done everything I can to make their job harder. With any luck, Eric should be able to escape. If all went well, he should have possession of your realm dagger. I hope he knows how to use it. If he does, I’ll be there to receive him and protect him. I only wish I were able to locate him so I could speak to him personally but I didn’t have the time to search for him.

I did, however, erect my pocket realm around his high school. It won’t be strong enough to keep Album and Nigreos in there for long but I think it will be able to stall them at least for a little while. It’ll also make finding the relic harder.

I know this doesn’t atone for my failures, but it’s the least I can do for the time being. I swear to you that I will protect your son with everything I have. I swear it on my life.

With that, he rose back to his feet. He knew it was risky even being there as the monument was often watched by Erikan soldiers. If he was seen kneeling to Abi, it could be taken in such a way that his position would be at risk. So, he turned and hurried back toward the graveyard’s gates, keeping his hood pulled low so as to hide his identity. When he arrived at the gates, he found his apprentice, Hannah Lynn, standing there, hooded and waiting.

“That was fast,” she whispered.

“Of course,” he replied. “Can’t dally around here long, after all. If anybody sees us, I’m sure the other Masters wouldn’t hesitate to grill me, and I’m not in the mood to deal with their nonsense. Best to remain inconspicuous.”

She nodded. “Yes. I agree, Master.”

“Let’s be off, Hannah.”

The young woman bowed, then turned and took the lead while he remained behind for just a moment. He couldn’t help but take one last glance over his shoulder at the monument to his old friend.

Until next time, Abi.

Then, with that, Ryokumo Caeli turned and followed after his young apprentice.

Epilogue II (“Wilham”)

That morning, he arrived at school with more annoyance and disgust than he normally did. He never enjoyed his time at school and most days, he just decided not to even bother showing up in the first place. In fact, recently, it was getting him into plenty of arguments with his parents. They kept trying to get him to pull his act together and he didn’t particularly care for it. There was no point in him going anyway. What was there to go for? The classes were boring, the other students were either braindead morons or giggly little dipshits, and it wasn’t like he was good at any of the subjects. All he did was waste time by being there when he could be doing literally anything else. The only reason he even bothered on that particular morning was because it was the second day of the school festival and he wouldn’t have to go to class. As long as he checked in with a teacher and confirmed that he was there, they wouldn’t mark him absent and he could just ditch afterwards.

He scowled, irritably looking around at the various stalls set up around West Wilham High’s courtyard. The excited laughter all around him only grated on his ears and he picked up the pace so he could get into the school as fast as possible.

God, this is all so fucking stupid. What’s the point of this dumbass festival in the first place? It just means the place is more crowded and louder than usual and I fail to see how that could be considered fun.

The boy shook his head and walked into the school, once again scoffing at the overly bright streamers and balloons all around the hallway. That was another aspect of the festival that he didn’t understand. He saw little reason to waste hours putting up ugly ass decorations that would just be taken down that weekend. It served no purpose other than making him want to rip his eyes out at how bright everything was.

Turning away from the decorations, he made his way to the staircase that would take him to the second floor. Mrs. Kentz had told the class the day before that if they weren’t a part of any club then they would just check in with her. So, he had to drop by the old woman’s classroom if he wanted to be marked as attending. Then, he could just go home. He’d stayed for the festival the day before and had no interest in doing so again. He couldn’t remember most of what he did, though he did recall stopping by the culinary club’s café to have one of their brownies, which he did have to admit was pretty good. Otherwise, he didn’t recall doing anything else except wandering around.

And since there’s nothing else to do today, there’s no point in sticking around.

Though, as the thought crossed his mind, he realized that he did remember somebody mentioning that the drama club was putting on a show in the gym and that it was pretty good. He thought about checking it out before leaving then thought better about it. After all, what reason would he have to spend an hour in a room packed full of people to watch an ametuer play.

Where did I even hear about that? I don’t actually remember who told me. Damn, oh well. I probably just overheard some freshmen talking about it or something. It’s not important.

He continued to walk, moving more on instinct than anything else and when he reached his destination, he reached forward and opened the door.

Wait...where the fuck am I?

He frowned, staring into the classroom only to realize that it wasn’t Kentz’s class. The room was completely empty aside from an old, bespectacled, and balding man sitting at the teacher’s desk. He realized that he didn’t even know what teacher it was, but it certainly wasn’t Mrs. Kentz. The man looked at him with a curious expression.

“Yes? May I help you, young man?” he asked.

The boy quickly shook his head. “Um, no, sorry. Wrong room.”

He quickly turned and walked out, then glanced back at the door to check which room he had accidentally walked into, only to find his surpoise increase even more.

Room 3-5?! What the actual fuck?! Kentz’s is 2-12! I get that I wasn’t paying too much attention, but how could I not only get the room wrong, but also the whole fucking floor?! The staircase to the third floor isn’t even by the one to the second!

He scoffed at how unbearably stupid he was as he turned and hurried back in the direction of the stairs. Yet, despite his desire to hurry up, he couldn’t help but stop and look back. There had been something oddly familiar about that room. Even though he couldn’t recall ever stepping inside, it almost felt like he needed to turn back and go inside—like something or somebody should be waiting for him.

Waiting? No…why would anybody ever wait for me?

He shook his head and pushed the room from his mind.

Just forget about it. It’s...not important.

Then, hoping to just get to Kentz’s room so he could get the hell away from the school, Vinny Mickelson turned and hurried away, leaving the strange classroom behind him. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop thinking about room 3-5.