“And now we wait,” Fae said, taking a seat in the Time Tower’s departure waiting area. It was a vast chamber, with dozens of benches and chairs near a viewing window that showed all of the doors leading out from the Time Tower to the Enchanted Dominion. Numerous display screens were constantly updating with door numbers and their current destinations. There were no schedules because they couldn’t predict where the doors would go, but Fae’s party knew when their path would be open to the Hall of Reflections, so they didn’t need to be on high alert.
Jupiter dropped into her seat with a heavy sigh, one of weariness, a weariness they all shared after so much walking and talking. But there was more than that. There was relief, and a sense of pride.
“What’s up?” Mercury asked, dropping next to Jupiter.
“I just…” Jupiter started, clearly a bit embarrassed. “I’m glad. I was finally useful!” She yawned, stretching, arms high overhead. “All this time, I’ve just been a tagalong. It’s been an exciting adventure, but… now I finally did something. It was my idea to check out magitech, and it actually paid off.” She came out of her stretch and plopped her arms on her knees, leaning forward. “I just… really wanted that to work. I was so worried, but also excited, and then… well.” On her shoulder, Core, the little flying robot Margot had loaned her, tweedled happily. His green display screen flickered to life with a message:
“Of course it worked out. Margot is brilliant. And you’re brilliant, too, for trusting in magitech.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Jupiter said, smiling at Core. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she rubbed at them frantically, shaking her head. “I’m not crying!”
“You totally want to, though,” Mercury said with a smirk. “I wish you’d said something earlier, though. I didn’t know you thought you were just a tagalong.”
“You haven’t been useless,” Neptune said. “You designed those grenade-things that helped us get Fae and Olivia out of the Dragon’s City. Remember? Those were a huge help.”
“I made those years ago, though,” Jupiter said with a shrug. “And they were no big deal. Madeline did most of the work with her fancy Butterfly Effect move.”
“And you’ve helped us ring the bell tons of times,” Mercury said. “We couldn’t have destroyed Collapse without you.”
“But I was just part of something, just doing what everyone else was doing,” Jupiter said. “You don’t get it. I… this was the first time I really did something. Me. Alone. And it mattered.” She pouted. “Just let me have this, okay?”
“I get it,” Fae said. “And seriously, thank you. Margot’s my only hope, and we found her because of you. That means more than you know.”
“I think I do know, though,” Jupiter said, somewhat self-consciously. “Considering we’re all linked, and stuff. I can feel it. But, uh… thanks. Really.” Her cheeks flushed, and she busied herself with fussing over Core.
“You mentioned the Dragon’s City,” Toryu said, his eyes flashing. “You mean the hidden city where Wasuryu raised his personal army, correct?”
“Yes,” Olivia said, anger seething within her. “He worried that if his family knew about it, they would destroy it — and finally destroy him, as well.”
“We would, if we could find it,” Toryu said. “I know I have been with you this entire time, but I am a Dragon, after all. I have been searching for Wasuryu’s City since you told me of it, and have sent out the call to the other Spiral Dragons, and the Mother of Dragons. We cannot find the City. Wasuryu was always crafty and cunning, but he has outdone himself entirely in the hiding of this City.”
“Olivia, you were able to just warp there before,” Mercury said.
“My powers were morphed and twisted when I was the Sealed Vessel,” Olivia said with a shudder. “It was Wasuryu who opened up my portals between Locations and even realms, something I cannot do with my own magic. I have no idea where the City is in relation to anywhere else.”
“If you knew where it was, you guys could blow it up, right?” Jupiter asked Toryu. “Five Dragons against one is totally unfair, even if he has his Cult, right?”
“We could destroy his City and his entire army,” Toryu said. “Which is, of course, why he hid his city from even our sight.” He puffed somewhat grumpily at his pipe.
“The Hall of Reflections,” Sonya said, standing. “Door 15-B.”
“Let’s go, Core!” Jupiter said, hopping to her feet.
Core whistled excitedly. “An adventure!”
They made their way out into the proper departures area. There were four in all, vast domed chambers with carefully organized lanes leading to a variety of doors, each with a digital display above them that updated with their destination whenever it changed. There was a great deal of traffic overall, but it varied heavily from destination to destination. Two doors in this chamber, doors 12-B to Starlight Spires and 24-B to the Crimson Docks, saw huge amounts of traffic, while others saw far less. At least half of the doors — including 15-B to the Hall of Reflections — saw no traffic at all.
“With all you said about what the mirrors show us,” Mercury said, walking backwards at the front of the group, hands clasped behind her head, “it’s weird that people don’t seem to want to go there.”
“It rarely lines up with Renault, from what I remember,” Neptune said. “And more than that, people understand the risk. If you get too caught up in the reflections, you could lose more time than you realize. People have died in the Hall of Reflections, just wasted away, totally lost within the tantalizing visions the mirrors showed them.”
“Now you give us the real warning?” Jupiter asked, accompanied by a matching panicked tweedle from Core, who hovered just above her shoulder.
“It’s most dangerous alone,” Ciel said, walking hand-in-hand with Madeline.
Madeline nodded. “And despite how tempting the visions I saw were, I was able to pull myself away. It helped that I knew I was on a time limit to get to you.” She smiled at Fae. “We’re going in with a clear objective, too, so we should be able to stay focused.”
“And we’ll help each other,” Fae said. “No one is going to waste away in there. We get in, learn what we need to learn, and then get out — and figure out how to get to Revue Palace.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Mercury said. “Just get to any Daylight Bastion, and it’ll have doors going to all the rest.”
“But Revue Palace was Lost for so long,” Neptune said. “It may not be as simple to get there. From what Delilah said, it connects directly to the Library of Solitude, but other than that, she’s primarily gone to and from Revue Palace with the help of Solla and Lunos. We don’t know how easy it will be for us to get there.”
“We mustn’t assume anything,” Sonya said with a nod.
“Here we go,” Mercury said, reaching the door and pulling it open. She gestured invitingly, smiling politely. “Welcome aboard Hall of Reflections Airlines. Enjoy your flight!”
“Shortest flight in the world,” Jupiter said, chuckling. She looked up at Core. “You ready, little guy?” Core gave an excited whistle, doing a cheerful little midair flip. The two of them went through the door first, followed closely by Neptune. Then went Toryu, Madeline, and Ciel.
“You know,” Mercury said, eyeing Fae, “for the leader, you tend to spend a lot of time at the back of the group.”
“Habit,” Fae said.
“Ah,” Mercury said with a knowing smile. “Introverts. I gotcha.” She motioned for Fae, Olivia, and Sonya to head on in ahead of her. “I’m not about to let you be the last ones there. Go on. I’ll be right behind you.”
So Fae stepped through, and Olivia, Sonya, and Mercury followed.
Fae emerged into a place she recognized from her own drawing, brought forth through the Orphan of the Dawn’s call, of the Hall of Reflections. In fact, it was uncannily similar, and she realized why. Where she’d entered the Hall was the exact perspective point from which she’d drawn the Hall in her sketchbook.
This wasn’t the wide open main hall that Madeline had seen on her visit. They were deeper inside the Hall of Reflections, in a more labyrinthine chamber with tight, winding corridors walled by and filled with mirrors of all shapes and sizes. Small, diamond-shaped lanterns hung from low ceilings, shedding soft white light throughout the space. The floors were made of black marble polished to such perfection that the floors appeared to be made of a single massive, unbroken slab of obsidian, and had a faint reflective quality to it, making it look like they had multiple shadows, their real shadows mingling with dark reflections of themselves.
“We’re, um, not supposed to look at any reflections, right?” Jupiter asked, fixing her eyes on one of the small diamond-shaped lanterns. “Where the heck are we supposed to look, then? Everything’s freaking reflective!”
“I don’t think the floors count,” Madeline said. “At least, they didn’t seem to have the same effect as the actual mirrors when I was here. But I wasn’t in this area.”
Core hovered in front of Jupiter, giving her an easy focal point to keep her gaze from the mirrors. With a cheerful twitter of beeps and boops, his display screen flashed a message: “Look at me, and you’ll be A-Okay!”
“This is exactly the place Meister Roderick gave us a map of, isn’t it?” Fae asked. She reached into her bag, pulling out both her own drawing of this chamber and the map that Meister Roderick had given them. Sure enough, the map matched where they were, even pointing out the entrance, so they knew exactly where they stood. “The Chamber of the Key… but this whole complex is called that, not just the room we’re looking for.”
“It’s like how this whole Location is called ‘The Hall of Reflections,’ but it’s really a gigantic building full of different halls and chambers,” Mercury said.
“What’s the best route to the Key of the World’s room?” Madeline asked, looking over the map with Fae, Olivia, and Sonya.
“If we take the right corridor,” Fae said, tracing a route with her finger, “then a left, and straight through this courtyard, that should do it.”
“Avoid courtyards,” Neptune said. “They’re beautiful, but if you’re trying to avoid getting caught up in reflections, they’re a trap you’ll want to steer clear of.” She came over to examine the map with them.
“What about this way?” Sonya asked, tracing a route around the courtyard. “The courtyard is a very central route to the stairs up to the Key’s room, but this works, too, doesn’t it?”
“It looks solid,” Neptune said with an approving nod. “Mind if I lead? I know this place the best of all of us, and I’m used to navigating.”
“Yeah, your internship with the Cartographers really paid off,” Mercury said with a grin.
“Go ahead,” Fae said, handing over the map. She looked up, and her eyes immediately locked onto a spherical mirror standing at a corner connecting two corridors. She caught a glimpse of something strange — something enticing — and immediately looked away, fixing her gaze on the back of Neptune’s jacket.
“This is a much more treacherous place than where I was during my visit,” Madeline said. She looked down at Ciel, holding his hand. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Ciel said with a nod. He had his eyes fixed forward, towards Neptune, Mercury, and Jupiter, who were leading. “It all feels very strange. But I’m okay.”
“Strange how?” Mercury asked, turning around to walk backwards, watching Ciel.
“Nostalgic,” Ciel said. “Not for me. There’s a lot of memory in this place.”
“Memory?” Sonya asked.
“It is difficult for Humans to feel,” Toryu said. “Memory suffuses the very air in here. Perhaps it is a part of how the mirrors work their magic.”
“Magic… mirrors…” Sonya murmured, eyes narrowed in thought. “Mirrors naturally contain Celestial Magic. They’re startlingly unique in that way, but Celestial Magic, light and darkness… these also apply to life and death. Mirrors… Celestial Magic… memory… yes, I see.” She nodded twice, looked up at a mirror, then suddenly ducked her head. “The mirrors here work off of our memories. They use light and memory to see into us and reflect what they see. And we know that memories are more than just past events recorded in our minds. They’re part of our souls. Part of life itself.”
“Learned that truth the hard way,” Mercury said with a shudder.
“Could Wasuryu do here what he did at the Silver Star Sanctuary?” Fae asked. “Could he take the memories that fill the air here and use them to give life to a new physical body?”
Ciel shook his head. “The memories belong to no one,” he said. “Strange. There aren’t memories like this anywhere else. They can’t be grasped, or taken. They are… fleeting.” He shook his head again. “It’s hard to explain.”
“It is,” Toryu said. “But I’ll take a crack at it. ‘Fleeting’ is a good word. The memories here are not like we think of memories. They aren’t concrete scenes and pieces of someone’s life. They are… almost like ghosts, phantoms, but in a way, also chameleons. They’re constantly changing, shifting, turning from one thing to another. Like Sonya said, memories are more than just records of the past. They are fragments of souls, of life itself. Perhaps it would be easier to think about the memories filling the air here as more like whispers, echoes of souls, souls so long passed on that all that remains now are pieces that cannot be tied to a single life. They belong to no one. But they also can be claimed by no one. For all the memory in the air, Wasuryu wouldn’t find any power to grasp here.” He looked up, his scaly brow furrowed in thought. “But how all of this memory ended up here, why it fills this place… that is another question altogether.”
“Who built the Hall of Reflections?” Olivia asked. “Perhaps they built it for that purpose — to contain fleeting memories and fragments.”
“Built it?” Toryu asked, shaking his head. “No, no, the Hall of Reflections was not built. Like many Locations in the Enchanted Dominion, it was here long before people were. Long before even Dragons were. There are Locations like Starlight Spires, where much of the place is built, but even then, the Location itself, that unique space in the universe with just the right properties to contain a city like that, was there to be discovered. No one built it. And then there are those that were fully formed, waiting to be discovered. Midnight Bridge, the Basin of Antiquity, and yes, the Hall of Reflections — there are many such Locations, grand structures that existed long before any living souls existed to discover and inhabit them.”
“The Enchanted Dominion’s full of mysteries,” Mercury said with a smile.
They reached the end of the corridor, and Neptune led them right, down a comparatively shorter corridor, before a left turn took them down a tighter corridor that required them to walk single-file, struggling to avert their eyes from the many mirrors that seemed to press in on them. Conversation helped, but it also made things complicated. It was often instinctual to want to look at someone when they spoke to you, or when you spoke to them. But constantly changing where one looked could be dangerous in this place.
Core helped. He hovered ahead of Jupiter so that she could look at him, but also high enough that those behind could look at him over her head. He often gave little cheerful beeps, boops, whistles, or tweedles, displaying encouraging messages like “Stay focused!” and “Just keep your eyes on me! I’m happy to distract!”
“Such a charming little guy,” Jupiter said, grinning up at the tiny flying robot. Core did a little flip, always happy to receive praise.
Fae was close to the back of their single-file column, with Sonya in front and Olivia behind. She kept her eyes on Core sometimes, but was often looking down at the drawing in her hand. It was a magically-called drawing, an illustration of the very Chamber of the Key they now carefully journeyed through. That wasn’t, in itself, too surprising. All of her magically-called drawings had pertained to a place she was meant to go, a part of her journey, connected to the Orphan of the Dawn.
Only, the pictures were supposed to be part of a map, a map leading her to the Orphan of the Dawn. She’d been there, met her, and departed.
So why was one of her drawings one that showed a future after the Orphan of the Dawn? Was this part of the Orphan of the Dawn’s call, too, in its own strange way?
She didn’t have any answers. And a moment later, even the questions halted for her.
Sonya had come to a stop in front of her, and Fae nearly ran into her. She felt a shudder through her, through their bond. A shudder of fear from Sonya.
Sonya was gazing into a mirror.
Fae opened her mouth to say something, reached out to pull Sonya away, but she stopped. Because she could see what Sonya saw, could feel what Sonya felt.
A life without Wasuryu. A life without becoming the Broken Vessel.
A life without her cursed power, Wellspring.
A Sonya who had never left Renault chasing the Orphan of the Dawn, a Sonya who had never left her family behind to wonder where she’d vanished to, a Sonya who’d never disappeared from her home for eighty years.
It was a dream, a beautiful dream, Sonya and her parents happy and whole as a family.
And yet, despite seeing such a wonderful fantasy… Sonya was terrified.
“This can never be,” she said, her voice trembling. She raised her hand, and in the mirror, she saw her hands clean, untouched by the glow of magic.
But in reality, her hand was flickering with a magenta glow, a fire-like aura that didn’t burn her.
Wellspring. Sonya’s mysterious magic that she feared so much. A power she didn’t want, but couldn’t escape. She’d spoken of it, a little bit, and Fae had heard a bit more from Olivia, but…
Suddenly, images flickered through Fae’s mind, through all of their minds. Memories, Sonya’s memories, of what Wellspring could do, and had done. Not just a small magenta flame flickering on her fingertips, no.
This fire was a destructive force, a force with no limits. Fae saw, through Sonya’s eyes, what devastation she had wrought as the Broken Vessel. An entire city burned, burned with a fire that no water could quench, that no lack of oxygen could suffocate, that no lack of fuel could starve. Fire that burned home and land and water and air, fire that burned everything it touched…
Including the living.
How many had Sonya killed? She didn’t know. And though she’d had no control, though being the Broken Vessel had left her constantly overflowing with fear and anguish, with power that she couldn’t contain, always spilling out into the world…
There was no escaping the guilt at what her own power had caused. Especially because of the one memory that stuck out in Sonya’s mind more starkly than any other.
Another city, burning from her Wellspring power, crumbling and falling into devastation.
And in the midst of the fires, a woman. Middle-aged, weak and tired, clutching two small children close to her.
Gazing at Sonya with wide, terrified, pleading eyes. Speaking, begging, though Sonya couldn’t hear the words.
Just a mother and her two small children. Innocent. Terrified.
And Sonya’s fire devoured them.
It isn’t your fault, came Olivia’s voice through their bond, strong clarity breaking through the storm of fear and anguish. Olivia, always steady, even when Sonya’s fear was so powerful it nearly drowned Fae and the others.
But her words didn’t change anything for Sonya.
She’d thought that Wellspring was a power Wasuryu had forced upon her, but…
No. It had always been hers, a hidden Birthright Magic that had been awoken when she’d been transformed into the Broken Vessel.
And that meant that what destruction Wellspring had wrought was destruction that Sonya had wrought. She didn’t have the excuse Olivia had for her actions as the Sealed Vessel. Olivia had been ruled by a shard of Wasuryu’s soul, her own soul overpowered, her actions never her own. But Sonya…
Sonya hadn’t been ruled. No one had been controlling her. She’d been broken by the same process that had taken over Olivia. There was no space for a Dragon within her, there never had been, and never would be.
Her actions had been her own. Her own brokenness, the endless outpouring, had been her own. She couldn’t see it any other way, though her brokenness had been forced upon her through a terrible violation, though her mind and heart had been so torn apart that she hadn’t been able to find a way to control her own actions, she couldn’t accept those excuses. Terror at herself, guilt over her own power and what it had done, devastated her.
That terror and guilt spread through all seven of the girls, and Fae was struck with the realization that she couldn’t tell where Sonya’s fear ended and her own emotions began.
And then, she was lost in that fear, a deep abyss that pulled her and the others down to join her. Olivia alone held fast, but it was all she could do to just hold herself together. She couldn’t dive in after Sonya, after Fae and the others who were pulled down with her.
Which meant…
…what? What did it mean? Fae’s mind was suddenly so hazy, her thoughts a wild swirl of her own and so many that were not her own. She couldn’t even see herself anymore, couldn’t see the Hall…
…Hall of what? Where had she been? All there was now was this vast darkness, pulling her deeper, deeper, deeper. She was there, and five others, with one standing high above them, separate but still joined to them. Aside from that one steady presence, Fae couldn’t tell where she ended and others began. Who was she? Who were the others? How many were they, really?
Fear… guilt…
Was this their true nature? A vast emptiness, an abyss that drowned everything they touched? If so, how did any of them escape?
What hope was there against such crushing, endless fear and guilt?
Hope…
Hope!
There was a spark, a tiny spark in Fae’s heart, that reminded her of the one way out. The only way out, and she was the one who had provided it so many times before. Could she do it again? Could she find hope, and share it with the others?
She wasn’t in a physical place. How could she grasp the candlestick bell, how could she ring it? There was no sound here, no light, no form.
There was just her heart, and the hearts joined to hers.
But in her heart was the spark. The spark of hope. Was it enough? Could she spread it out to the rest of them without the bell?
She tried. Taking that tiny spark, that little twinkling star, she held it close, letting its light cleanse her own heart of the fear and guilt pouring out from Sonya. As she did so, the light of hope grew, strengthening as Fae placed more faith in it.
The more she trusted in hope, the more powerful it became.
But when she tried to reach out with that light, to touch the hearts joined to hers… she couldn’t reach them. There wasn’t just the darkness of fear and guilt, but walls that went up, barricading their hearts. She could feel them, knew they were there and still joined to her, but reaching them was no easy task.
Don’t reject hope. Don’t wall yourselves off from it.
Sonya!
Fae cried out for Sonya, but heard no reply. She held the light of hope now as a shining white globe in her hand, casting its beautiful rays far and wide. She searched for Sonya in the darkness, but then the rays of light pointed upward, high above, out of the dark abyss she’d been dragged into.
I have to go up? Without them?
Maybe… that’s the only way to save them.
Sonya, just hang on. I’m coming for you.
Fae shot upwards, leaving behind the deep darkness of terror and despair. She breached the surface, emerged back into the physical world, back into the Hall of Reflections…
Into an inferno of chaos and destruction.
Sonya was exploding with her Wellspring power, magenta flames blasting forward, tearing apart the Hall of Reflections, ripping and shattering and burning the Chamber of the Key. Already thousands of mirrors were no more than glass dust swirling in a fierce, twisting gale or scattered across the scorched, desolate floor. A wide trench was carved forward, ceiling and floor both blasted open into empty void for a straight line nearly a mile long.
Around Sonya’s feet lay Mercury, Jupiter, Neptune, and Madeline. Behind Sonya, Toryu was sheltering Ciel and Core with his sturdy tortoise-Dragon shell.
Reaching out for Sonya, crying out to her but never reaching her, was Olivia.
Some invisible force railed against her, walling Sonya off from Olivia. Fae came to join her, reaching but rebuffed, forced back by waves of power. Sonya was screaming, screaming, her voice rending the air with anguish and terror, a heartrending lament of guilt and despair.
The fires were turning, changing directions, consuming more in their wake. Fae couldn’t reach Sonya. How could she stop this? How could she spread the light of hope to the one who needed it most?
She looked past Sonya, looked to where the flames of her power were spreading, where her power would direct its wanton destruction next.
And she took off running.
Olivia called for her, but her voice was so faint in the wind and explosions and Sonya’s own screaming. And Fae wouldn’t turn back anyway.
She had an idea.
If I can’t reach you, then I’ll convince you to come to me.
I’m not giving up on you. I’m not letting your power be your undoing.
You can control this, I know you can.
As Fae ran, sending telepathic messages of encouragement and hope to Sonya, she could hear Sonya’s own thoughts, a stream of consciousness full of a deep, desolate loneliness.
Mineria helped me, she reached out to me, she knew me, and said she knew what it was like, knew that my power was my own, that she was like me before, that she understood. Why didn’t I talk to her more? Why didn’t I reach out to her more? Now she’s gone, and I’m all alone, there’s no one who can understand my power because no one else has anything like this, it’s a curse, a horrible curse, I should just be destroyed along with it —
“Sonya!” Fae cried over the screams and wind and destruction all around. Her hair was violently whipped around her by the wind, and she pulled it out of her face, making sure she kept her eyes on Sonya. Glass dust gusted by her, slashed across her face, but she didn’t flinch back. She spread her arms wide, facing Sonya from across the shattered chamber, as Sonya’s own flames started to approach her, to begin to carve a trench that would, if it continued, destroy Fae along with everything else. “Sonya, I trust you! I trust you with my life! Your power isn’t a curse, and even if no one else here understands it, we can help you. Please — trust us. Trust me. Hope is here for the taking, but the choice has to be yours.”
Fae! No! You have to get out of the way, I don’t want to hurt you!
“You won’t hurt me!” Fae shook her head, the light of hope shining bright in her heart. “I know you won’t. Because I know what you want, what you’ve wanted ever since I found you, ever since you got to talk to Mineria and found someone who understood you.”
She knew, because Sonya’s heart still held that precious memory, and that wish she’d made in the silence of her own heart.
“I never want to know a life without hope ever again.”
“And you’ll never have to,” Fae said, staring at Sonya, heedless of the destructive, fiery force that was carving a path ever closer to her. She wasn’t afraid. Hope burned bright within her, and she hadn’t just bandied empty words at the one who needed them most.
She truly did trust Sonya. And she knew Sonya could see that.
You know my heart, just like I know yours.
Trust me, like I trust you.
Don’t abandon hope.
Sonya’s eyes snapped open, and she stared at Fae, tears glistening in her eyes, running tracks down her cheeks. Her scream suddenly cut off, and she raced forward, waving her hands, begging the flames to stop, begging them not to harm Fae, not to harm her friends.
Everything happened so fast. In an instant, Sonya had crossed the distance between her and Fae, and was in her arms, with her own arms around her, hugging her tight, sobbing into her shoulder.
The fires were gone.
Ruin was left behind, but the Chamber of the Key wasn’t completely destroyed.
And Fae, Olivia, Madeline, Mercury, Neptune, Jupiter, Toryu, Ciel, and Core were unharmed.
But what Fae was most concerned about was the one she was holding tight, who shuddered in her arms with her sobs. “You aren’t hurt, are you?” she asked.
Sonya looked up, gazing in wide-eyed astonishment at Fae. “I…” she started, and then shook her head. “I’m… I’m all right. My power… it can’t… it can’t hurt me.”
“And it can’t hurt me, either,” Fae said. “I know you can control it. You did, just now. You won’t hurt the people you care about.”
“I need the hope you have,” Sonya said.
“It’s yours,” Fae said. “Can’t you feel it? Our hearts are joined. What’s mine is yours, too, if you’re willing to take it.”
“But I…” Sonya started, looking all around. “Look at what I’ve done. This power… all it does is destroy.”
The Chamber of the Key was a vast, labyrinthine network of tight corridors sprawling across nearly two square miles. Now, though? Half of that honeycomb of reflection-filled corridors was just gone, wiped out, nothing but a scorched, rubble-strewn ruin. Here and there, ceiling and floor had been blasted open beyond the bounds of the Location itself, revealing the startlingly empty void that lay beyond.
“I think it’s more than that,” Fae said, looking past Sonya as approaching footsteps crunched across the rubble. Madeline and the Star sisters were on their feet, walking towards them with Olivia, Toryu, and Ciel. Core, lightly singed but with no actual damage, bounced in the air beside Jupiter. He let out an impressed little whistle, stating on his display screen: “Destructive power can be the power to create amazing things when properly controlled and directed. That’s the CORE of technological development!” He let out a twittering of beeps and boops that sounded suspiciously like laughter.
“Really?” Jupiter asked, a hand on her hip. “You’re proud of that pun?”
Core flipped, tweedling cheerfully. Jupiter couldn’t help but laugh. “Nothing gets you down, huh? But he’s got a point.” She turned her smile on Sonya. “When you’re building something, especially tech-related gear, there’s a lot of really destructive tools and techniques you have to use. But used properly, they aren’t tools and techniques to destroy. They’re to create. This Wellspring… it’s like limitless power, right? Just bubbles up from inside you, can tear through anything, even the boundaries of a Location. That limitless potential for destruction could be limitless potential for creation, if you direct it properly. I’d be happy to help you figure it out.”
“I know you want to reject your power,” Madeline said, “but if you were born with it, then it’s yours for a reason. You just haven’t found that, yet.”
“And we’ll help you,” Fae said. “We don’t understand you the way Mineria did. None of us have the kind of power you have. But we understand you in a way no one else can. Our hearts are joined together. We know exactly what you’re feeling, what you’re going through.”
“It’s too great a burden for you to bear alone,” Olivia said. “Let us help you carry the weight.”
“You… all of you… would?” Sonya asked, gazing in amazement at them.
“Absolutely,” Mercury said, flashing her perfect smile. “Did you ever have a doubt? You can feel our hearts, just like we can feel yours.”
“It’s just… too incredible to accept,” Sonya said, bowing her head. “I… I don’t want to live without hope. But it’s so hard to accept it. I…” She looked around at the destruction she’d caused, and gestured feebly. “Look at what I’ve done. Can I really use this for good? After all the pain and misery it’s caused…”
“You have to make the choice,” Fae said. “We can say all the right things, but in the end… it’s up to you. If you’re willing, you won’t be walking this road alone.”
“I mean, I was gonna say that even if she ran away we’d follow her to the ends of the universe,” Jupiter said with a shrug. “But… yeah. You’ve gotta be willing to move forward on your own terms, too. Nobody can force you to figure out your power. After all the destruction it’s caused, I understand your fear. Just know that it doesn’t have to be that way. You’ve got a journey ahead of you, but like we’re all saying — you won’t be alone.”
“I feel like I’ve already been through such a great journey,” Sonya said, bowing her head. “Leaving home, becoming the Broken Vessel, finding my way to the Orphan of the Dawn… for a little while, I thought I’d finally put this fear behind me.” She let out a shuddering sigh. “A journey. Perhaps that is the best word for it. I have to start taking the right steps. And slowly… in time… I will trust, and hope, that this journey will see me to a better use for this power. Wellspring… it doesn’t sound like such a terrible thing, does it? If that is its name, then perhaps it was always meant for good.” She looked at Jupiter. “I like the word you used. ‘Potential.’ I’ve only seen its potential for destruction, but if it has such limitless potential… then there may also be potential for creation.”
“And for all the destruction just caused, there is a little good that came of it,” Toryu said, nodding past them. “You see? Our path is clear.”
They turned to look across the devastation, and saw that the stairs — the stairs they sought, that should lead to the room with the Key in its pedestal — were no longer hidden behind a maze of corridors. They had a straight shot across the rubble to the stairs, and the stairs weren’t damaged at all, cleanly escaping the destruction.
“I… suppose that is one way to create a shortcut,” Sonya said, staring. A hint of a smile touched her lips, just for a moment.
And somewhere distant — perhaps just an echo, perhaps just in her own mind — Fae thought she could hear the ringing of the candlestick bell. Its beautiful tone lived in her heart, and she realized now that the light of hope she’d found in herself had finally spread.
It lived in all of them.