Caleb and Chelsea walked hand-in-hand through Grimoire, making their way towards the library. With them were Will and Gwen — not Lorelei, who was working alongside the Healer Corps — as well as Hestia, Artemis, Athena, Galahad…
And Blaise’s former Shadows. Not all of them — Anastasia was indisposed for reasons unknown, but would join them in the Underground, and Doctor was not a fighter but a thinker and analyst and worked alongside Deirdre in running the Grimoire Guard’s operations — but Bronn, Stride, and Sieglinde were with them, and Caleb couldn’t help but find it incredibly surreal. They had been enemies not too long ago, and they’d spent more time in opposition to each other than as allies.
But it was also kind of exciting, having these powerful fighters on their side. Bronn, impossibly huge, a mountain of a man made of pure muscle, with sharp eyes and a gravelly, soft-yet-strong voice, walked in the center of their group. Stride wasn’t far behind him, his low, wide-brimmed straw hat immediately distinctive, along with the eyepatch on his left eye. And then there were his multi-sheaths, boxes strapped to his right and left hip and on his back, each of which held numerous katanas of varying lengths and colors, each with their own special properties. Fifteen swords for one man — most would call it overkill, but Caleb had seen Stride in action, and he wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t quite enough swords for him.
And then there was Sieglinde, walking near the front, almost right alongside Caleb and Chelsea. The golden motes of light falling from Yggdrasil danced in her golden hair, reflected in her bright eyes. She was serene and peaceful, often smiling. She was also the most pleasant and talkative, contrasting sharply with her stoic companions.
“I do apologize for how things went when we fought each other,” she said, looking especially at Chelsea. “I did warn you, but even so, I feel responsible for Nidhogg’s actions. I never meant for him to attack you like that.”
“He almost ate me,” Chelsea said, her eyes narrowed. “Seriously, if you have a Summon that huge and powerful, you’ve got to be able to control him, or he’s a massive hazard.” She glanced upwards, no doubt thinking of her own Summon, her white owl who was currently patrolling Grimoire’s skies.
“You are absolutely right,” Sieglinde said. “But at the same time, our Summons conform to our wishes and deepest, most intrinsic desires. I wished to bring my favorite elements of Norse mythology to life, and I have always adored the stories of the world tree. The only problem — and it is not always such a problem — is that Ratatosk and Nidhogg are very violent, temperamental creatures in the myth. Nidhogg gnaws on the World Tree’s roots in the myth, while Ratatosk runs up and down the branches provoking Nidhogg’s anger. But I didn’t quite want it that way. I wanted them as protectors, to work hand-in-hand with each other, and they have. However, they still remain temperamental, and that anger expresses itself in jealously guarding Yggdrasil, rather than destroying her. But they are much calmer now. Their protective nature has been directed towards Grimoire, now that Yggdrasil has fully taken root within our beloved city.”
“What about the eagle?” Caleb asked.
“Eagle?” Chelsea asked.
“Yeah, Ratatosk runs up and down the branches between Nidhogg at the roots and the eagle at the top, antagonizing them both against each other,” Caleb said. “At least, that’s how I remember it.”
“Yes,” Sieglinde said with a sigh. “That is how the story goes. But there doesn’t appear to be a name for the eagle anywhere. And personally, I never really liked that element of the story. There’s already enough antagonism and strife with just Ratatosk and Nidhogg. And as you can tell, I didn’t want to simply match the myth as it was originally told.”
“So the point is that Nidhogg isn’t going to try and eat me again, right?” Chelsea asked.
“Right,” Sieglinde said with a soft, musical laugh.
As they walked and talked, Caleb took note of how Hestia’s group — the former Radiance — and the former Shadows interacted with each other. He knew only bits and pieces of their history, but they’d all come from Grimoire, had lived in this city during the same time period. At some point, they’d come to blows against each other, Leon and Blaise fighting for control of Grimoire.
What Caleb hadn’t expected — even though Hestia had said as much during the journey to Grimoire — was that these former foes had once been, and could again be, not just allies, but friends. There was a wealth of history between them, and while much of it had been antagonistic… not all of it was.
It was Will who noticed something Caleb didn’t, and pointed it out to him, typing a message on his phone for Caleb to see:
“They’re the only ones left from that same time period. No one else can understand the Grimoire of their birth, the Grimoire that they grew up in, the way they do.”
“It must feel so strange,” Caleb said softly. “To live for so long, to have so much change around you, to see people live and die while you barely age at all. Everything changes but you.”
“They did change. They used to be trying to kill us.”
“Stop reminding me,” Chelsea said, shaking her head. “I’m actually starting to get over it and maybe even like these guys. Don’t go and ruin that.”
Hestia, Athena, and Sieglinde especially were good friends, and Sieglinde’s presence seemed to further help Athena heal from her deep, pervasive grief over the loss of her King. Strangely enough, Artemis, though sister to Athena and good friends with Hestia, didn’t spend much time with that trio, but instead spoke with Stride, when either of them spoke at all. Caleb didn’t catch any of their conversation, but there seemed to be some kind of bond there, a bond between warriors that he couldn’t understand.
And then, of course, there was Galahad. He was the drama-queen — drama-king, perhaps, although “king” certainly had some complicated associations for the former Radiance — of the group, always acting as if he was on stage. Was it an act? Caleb had no idea. It was so hard to get a read on him. He was marvelously handsome with a winsome, dazzling smile, and could be quite charming, but every action was exaggerated, every phrase felt like a line from a script. He was constantly trying to involve himself in conversation, but the ladies weren’t having him, and Bronn and Stride gave him the strong, silent treatment.
“And thus I find myself alone,” Galahad said, bowing his head. Caleb thought he saw actual tears glistening in his bright blue eyes. Was he forcing tears for dramatic effect? “Bereft of friends, bereft of companionship. Woe is me! Will no one comfort my lonely soul? Oh, if only Titan or Ignis were among us.”
“You know neither of them liked you either,” Artemis said, rolling her eyes.
“But they understood me,” Galahad said with a depth of feeling that didn’t seem acted, but… Caleb just couldn’t get this guy.
He was good with a sword, though. There was no denying that. His personality wasn’t much, but he certainly qualified as an “Elite” alongside the other long-lived members of their team.
On their way to the library, Caleb also got a better sense of the city, and how it had changed in response to crisis. He’d already seen how the Healer Corps, overworked and exhausted, had been bolstered by hundreds of non-mage doctors, nurses, and assistants. Healing Magic couldn’t be beaten in terms of quick recovery, but it was taxing and exhausting to the Healer. Modern, non-magical medicine still had its place in a magical society, and right now, that modern medicine was absolutely invaluable. And it was a wonderful look at how the mages and non-mages were coming together as a unified community, no longer separated from each other by secrets.
But that was just the beginning. Teachers banded together to organize half-day lessons for students in this disruptive time, to ensure that educations weren’t halted or abandoned. And not just that — they also organized a lot of the recreational events throughout the city, from arts and crafts sessions to group discussions, from reading-and-writing workshops to recreational sporting events. That was where many more got involved — coaches, performers, musicians, Grimoire’s Theater Troupe, Grim Night’s staff and musicians, booksellers and librarians, the various vendors and administrators of the Crater District mall, bakers, chefs, programmers, artists, athletes, and more all came together to lift the spirits of Grimoire’s people.
Morale — the emotional and mental well-being of a people — was the most important thing to Grimoire, to this city at war, and preparing for an even greater battle. Even if all of the Hunters did their jobs to the best of their ability and managed to keep fighting against all odds, if hearts despaired or minds panicked, Grimoire would fall.
That was where all of these recreational activities came into play. Despite the darkness, sporting events were still held, and many of them were recreational, allowing all ages and skill levels to participate in combined workshops and scrimmages. Concerts and recitals were held all over the city, and Grimoire’s Theater Troupe organized its three separate rotating casts and crews to put on outdoor performances and hold acting and staging workshops. Artists taught lessons and did live drawings, authors and poets and readers put on workshops and live reading sessions, musicians did instrument and voice workshops — there was never a better time for the people of Grimoire to learn new skills or take on new hobbies.
Bookshops, and even many homes, were turned into temporary lending libraries, allowing anyone the pick of the lot for reading material at no cost at all. Gaming shops and arcades waived numerous fees and opened up gaming stations to allow people to play games they didn’t own, and tried to emphasize multiplayer gaming sessions so that people could play and enjoy their time together. Tabletop gaming saw a huge boom, with board games, card games, mini-figure games, and tabletop role-playing games surging in popularity as people yearned for entertainment, recreation, and community in one complete package. Cafés, restaurants, pizzerias, diners, and bistros slashed their prices and had their staff take parts of every day to go out and cook and serve free meals to weary Hunters, Healers, and other members of the Grimoire Guard, both mages and non-mages.
Caleb had always felt the unique, soulful pulse of Grimoire, but here his city felt alive in a way it had never felt before. There was a unity that they’d been missing out on all these years due to secrecy, due to the worry that if those without magic knew about its existence, and knew about the Hollows that plagued their city every night, they would panic, revolt, and demolish the carefully constructed peace that had endured so long.
If only we’d known. We could have had this so much sooner.
But his Time Mage mind — and words of his excellent teacher — changed that line of thinking.
Or maybe not. We can’t know, not really, how it could have been. Only how it is. We can’t go back. We can only go forward. And with things like this, even with Darkness more powerful than ever…
The future looks so bright.
“There’s that hopeful smile I love to see,” Chelsea said, giving Caleb’s hand a squeeze.
“Hard not to be hopeful with everyone coming together like this,” Caleb said. They finally reached the wide plaza around Grimoire’s public library, and Caleb took it all in. Stages, booths, and tables were set up, and the space was full of people. Mages and non-mages chatting, reading, writing, learning, laughing, discussing, asking questions.
“How did Grimoire end up the way it was before?” Chelsea asked, eyeing their long-lived companions. “Were there always both mages and non-mages living here, and did we always keep magic a secret?”
“At least when the Lunar Architects founded the city, there were only mages,” Athena said, her voice steady and calm. “By the time I was born, there were both mages and non-mages. The history behind how, when, and why those without magic settled here alongside mages isn’t entirely clear, but magic was always kept a secret from those without.”
“We worried about safety,” Sieglinde said, “as well as the state of the rest of the world. There are other magical communities across the world, but they are few and far between. Only Renault has the luxury of being totally isolated from those without magic. All other mage communities have had to integrate with those without magic. Secrecy has been our ally for millennia. The few occasions of magic being revealed to those without magic throughout history have not gone well. Not well at all.” She looked out at the unity surrounding them with an awed smile. “None of us ever believed this possible. We can call it pragmatism or realism, we can cite historical precedence, but… it was fear that held us back. Fear kept us from reaching out to one another, trusting each other. I am so grateful that necessity brought us to this wonderful realization.”
“It’s beautiful now,” Stride said, his voice tinged with amusement. “But when the crisis ends, what happens then? When those without magic realize what a gap there is between them and us mages, will the unity still hold? For all the danger of panic and despair in times of crisis, it is often in times of crisis that people are most united. Peace is often more deadly to a society than war.”
“Must you be so pessimistic?” Sieglinde asked. “We won’t leave them behind when peace comes. Yggdrasil is more than just a protector. That was only part of my vision for her.” She tilted her head back and held out her arms, catching motes of falling golden light on her face and fingertips. “Everyone can see her. She’s a symbol of the age of secrecy being ended. And she will guard our hearts and minds in times of peace, as much as she guards our bodies and homes in times of war. That is part of why I rewrote the myth with my Summons. Nidhogg and Ratatosk aren’t spreading strife and slowly destroying the World Tree — they are protecting her. We will remain united beneath the World Tree.”
“But Stride raises a good point,” Bronn said in his deep, gravelly voice. “There will always be a gap between mage and non-mage. And that gap will be more pronounced in times of peace.”
“Why can’t we just teach people to be mages?” Caleb asked. Everyone stared at him, particularly the long-lived residents of Grimoire. “I mean… why are we mages in the first place? How did we learn? Time Magic is Birthright Magic, but I can also use Containment and Mobility Magic. Chelsea learned Fire Magic, Will learned Energy Magic, we all have Enhancement Magic, we all learned. Why can’t people who don’t have magic now learn to use magic?”
Silence filled the group, a silence Caleb hadn’t expected. Hestia, Artemis, Athena, Bronn, Stride, and Sieglinde all looked completely lost for words.
Galahad, however, was not. Rising from his morose silence, he spoke with a broad, enthusiastic smile. “Well said, Caleb!” he said, clapping Caleb on the back. “That is the path forward, is it not? For all to become mages!”
“Stow it,” Artemis said, glaring at Galahad. She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s possible. It is, or it wouldn’t make sense for any humans to be mages. But think about Grimoire’s mages. What do all of them — every single one of them — have in common.”
“Magic,” Galahad said with a broad smile, which withered under an intensifying glare from Artemis.
“Family,” Chelsea said, realization dawning on her face. “History texts even talk about Grimoire’s mages as ‘the mage families.’ That’s changed a bit over time, there isn’t an aristocracy like there was, but I’m pretty sure every mage in Grimoire to this day still has a long heritage of mages behind them.”
“That’s the start of it,” Artemis said, nodding. “It’s complicated, very complicated, and we shouldn’t get into it now. And it isn’t just about Grimoire’s history, but about humans and Enchanted and Halfchants, about the Enchanted Dominion and the Human Realm. Right?” She cast a look Gwen’s way, and Gwen nodded.
“Magic was first gifted to the Enchanted Dominion,” Gwen said, “and to the Enchanted themselves. It is far stronger there, while here on Earth and throughout the Human Realm, its potency is lessened.”
“Right,” Caleb said, twirling his pocket watch on its chain. “That’s why we need Talismans, but you don’t.”
“Correct,” Gwen said. “You need a device through which you channel magic, while for us, it flows through us, is an integral part of us. It’s a part of Humanity, too, but subtler, buried deep. You can’t access it without a Talisman. It is puzzling, though, that Halfchants need Talismans as well.” She looked at the former Shadows. “A Human father and Enchanted mother, leading to you having all the same traits as an Enchanted, including often having distinctive eyes and far longer lifespans than Humans. And yet you still need Talismans. It has always seemed strange to me.”
“Does it specifically have to be a human father and Enchanted mother?” Caleb asked. “It can’t go either way?”
Gwen shook her head. “It isn’t just about blood,” she said. “Blood is the first step, but the most important one is being carried within the womb of an Enchanted. There have been children born of pairings between Enchanted men and Human women, and their offspring have always been biologically Halfchants, if we’re only looking at the physical side of things. It is magic that is the deciding factor, and it takes time for the unique magical makeup of one’s cells to form. Being carried to birth by an Enchanted mother is the only way for this to happen for Halfchants. Those who are carried and born entirely in the Enchanted Dominion are even closer to full Enchanted. There have been interesting changes noted in Human children carried by their mothers in the Dominion as well — they often age more slowly at first, eventually normalizing, and their connection to magic, while still requiring a Talisman, is often more fluid and freeform than most Humans, closer to how Enchanted work with magic, rather than sorting it into strict classifications.”
“Okay, that’s enough on that topic for my brain,” Chelsea said, reeling. “It’s interesting, don’t get me wrong, but it’s… a lot to take in.”
“It’s different for Humans than Enchanted or Halfchants,” Sieglinde said with an understanding smile. “For us, these facts are part of life. But you only learned about the Enchanted Dominion and Enchanted themselves mere months ago, correct? There is a lot to learn, a lot that is still fresh and new to you. It’s all right if you can’t grasp it all right away.”
Will held up his phone, displaying his most recent message:
“Back to where we started on this line of thought, this all means that humans without mages in their ancestry will have a very difficult time of learning magic.”
“Difficult, yes,” Gwen said with a nod.
“But not entirely impossible,” Sieglinde said.
“So there’s hope,” Chelsea said.
“Ultimately, yes,” Gwen said with a smile. She turned, gesturing out to the mingled crowds. “Time and patience can help all Humans learn magic. It doesn’t need to be exclusive to certain individuals. Though for those who have never known magic, and whose families have never known magic, it will be much more difficult. But difficult is a far cry from impossible,” she finished, a twinkle in her golden eyes.
“We’ve got our work cut out for us once Sal is defeated and the Endless Night prevented,” Caleb said. But the thought of what came after this time of crisis excited him, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“I had thought you would be below when I arrived, but I suppose there is a lot to take in for the most recent arrivals.” A new voice spoke, a voice Caleb didn’t really recognize, but which made Chelsea stiffen beside him. When Caleb turned to look, he recognized the speaker though, knowing her best for her striking violet eyes that shone with their own light.
“Anastasia,” Chelsea said, curtly, almost rudely.
“Reiner,” Anastasia said, smiling pleasantly. “Greyson and Rook, as well. But where is Frost? I didn’t think she would ever be far from you two.”
“She’s helping the Healers,” Caleb said. “But she’ll join us eventually.”
“Ah,” Anastasia said, nodding. “Yes, she is a strikingly multi-talented individual, isn’t she? And we have more need of Healers than fighters at the moment.”
“Though we seem dismally short on both,” Hestia said, bowing her head.
“And that is why we all do our very best to make up for the lack of numbers,” Anastasia said. She eyed the former Royal Guards knowingly. “I have not been as involved with you as my comrades. And we never were very close, were we?” Artemis in particular shook her head at that question. “Even so, I’m glad that Grimoire has your strength. You’ve come at an opportune time.”
“Why so cold?” Chelsea asked, narrowing her eyes. “We’re all in this together, aren’t we? And we were all having such a good conversation until you showed up.”
Anastasia cocked her head to the side. “I could ask you why you’re so cold to me, as well,” she said. “We only ever quarreled once, and I thought we eventually parted on somewhat amicable terms.”
“Your memory needs recalibrating,” Chelsea said.
“O-kay,” Caleb said, holding out his hands to Chelsea and Anastasia, pleading with his eyes for peace — and wishing Lorelei was here. She was much better at defusing Chelsea when she got like this. “Whatever happened in the past, it’s all back there, not here. We’re on the same side now, so let’s work together.”
“As long as she stays out of my way,” Chelsea said, turning away. “I’d hate for her to get burned.” She started towards the library, grabbing Caleb’s hand so he had to follow.
Was Chelsea still sore about her fight against Anastasia in the Wood of the Wisps? Caleb supposed he shouldn’t blame her — he’d only heard about it, and hadn’t been there or seen it. But he thought it might, overall, be a happier memory. It was when she’d first gotten her Summon, after all, and in the end she, Lorelei, and Delilah had succeeded in rescuing Isabelle and forcing Anastasia to retreat.
But again, he hadn’t been there. Whatever emotions were involved, whatever still lingered, was beyond him. So he stuck by Chelsea, held her hand firmly, and hoped his presence could help in even a small way.
Inside the library, they found that half of it — the half nearest the doorway that led to Grimoire’s Underground — had been transformed into a checkpoint and operations center for Grimoire’s Investigators. An extension of the Hunter Guild, Investigators were essentially detectives and inspectors, those who turned their skills with magic and mind towards rooting out the dangers among the humans of Grimoire, rather than the monsters. They were overseeing the investigation of the Underground ever since Lorelei and her team had defeated Kaohlad and then fled the sudden flood of Darkness beneath Grimoire — and in the process, discovered the truth behind the Grimson Bay ruins, that they’d once been the city of Marcus’ people, the original inhabitants of Grimoire.
Chelsea had begun to soften somewhat from Anastasia’s arrival, but now among the Investigators she tensed up slightly. Caleb gave her hand a squeeze and stuck close to her.
David Reiner was an Investigator.
Her father’s death was a thick cloud hanging over Chelsea’s heart. And it always would be, Caleb thought. The nature of his death, the timing of it, and Chelsea’s memories of the months leading up to it — it was all far too much to expect a young adult to handle, let alone the child Chelsea had been at the time.
How in the world she stands so strong, I’ll never know.
Helping lead the Underground Investigation was Robert Callahan, Captain of the Investigators, as well as Octavian, former Radiance Royal Guard, and now tactical and operational supervisor and analyst for the Grimoire Guard. Robert left Caleb’s group to Octavian, focusing his efforts on the Investigators themselves.
Octavian had a kind, approachable demeanor, with carefully combed white hair and well-worn wrinkles on his pleasant face. Pale green eyes glittered behind round spectacles perched on the bridge of a large, rounded nose. He was rather short, a whole head shorter than Chelsea, but carried himself like a taller man, and like someone far more fit than he appeared to be. Where Hestia, Artemis, Athena, and Galahad had all kept their Royal Guard uniforms and simply removed the Radiance iconography and made other minor changes, Octavian had changed his wardrobe entirely. He had, Caleb realized, adopted a garb that was quite reminiscent of Grimoire’s librarians — a short, midnight-blue coat with long coattails over a waistcoat and tie, high-waisted black slacks, and well-polished black shoes. On his breast pocket was emblazoned a silver double-G.
He smiled as the team approached and welcomed them over to his “office.” Really it was a large desk in the open center of the Underground Investigation headquarters, covered with neatly sorted and arranged papers, binders, books, and writing utensils. “You wish to go to the deepest part of the Underground, do you?” he asked, his voice warm and welcoming. “To this ‘well of Darkness’ that Delilah, Alice, and Marcus reported on?”
“That’s right,” Caleb said. “Has anyone else been down there?”
“We have guards posted near the winding stair that leads down to it,” Octavian said, “but no. We do not send anyone down there. It would be wisest for this duty to be assigned to Paladins, but seeing as Earth’s Paladin is otherwise occupied, and seeing as Deirdre trusts you with this task, I see no reason not to allow you through.”
“We actually know a little something about handling the Darkness,” Chelsea said, pulling Caleb and Gwen both close to her. All three of them had faced the depths of the shadowland before, had braved the deep parts of the Darkness and managed to dispel it and come out of it alive and well — Chelsea especially, who had done so twice.
“Yes, I had heard vaguely of your exploits,” Octavian said with a smile. “Very well. But don’t simply go down there alone and tackle this task as your own individual mission. Know that if you need anything — anything at all — it is at your disposal. You need only ask. Desmé will tell you the same. She’s overseeing the Grimson Bay ruins expedition; you’ll find her along the way. Report in to her as well. She may have some insights for you.”
They thanked Octavian and passed through the checkpoint, through the door, leaving behind the library and descending into the Underground.
At first, the Underground had been the term for the incomplete subway tunnels running beneath Grimoire. But after the discovery of so much else down there — Kaohlad’s secret hideout, the well of darkness, the clues to Grimoire’s past, access to the Grimson Bay ruins — “the Underground” had grown to encompass all of the strange, startling, and dangerous elements that lay deep beneath their beloved city. There was still more to explore, more than even the former Shadows had known about. It was exciting, but frightening, as well. For to venture beneath the city was to venture closer to the well of Darkness.
But the early sections of the Underground weren’t so dismal or dreary. Plenty of warm lighting had been set up along the smooth stone walls, and there was a somewhat sociable air amongst the Investigators, who were turning much of their detective skills towards a more archaeological objective, which many of them found exciting. There were always new things to discover, new questions to ask, and new discussions to have.
Caleb, Chelsea, and Will didn’t know most of the Investigators. Though they were part of the same Guild, Hunters and Investigators didn’t often interact. Hunters fought monsters at night and spent most of the rest of their time training and resting, while Investigators worked all hours, investigating criminal and dangerous or mysterious elements of Grimoire’s population. So walking through here, Caleb didn’t recognize anyone.
There are hundreds of mages in the same Guild as me, and I’ve never even seen them before.
Caleb was floored again and again by sudden, unexpected discoveries of how big his own home was. There was so much he didn’t know that was right under his nose the whole time, so many people doing so much valuable work that he never even noticed. He thought about Investigators, certainly, but Grimoire’s crime rate was so low that it was almost nonexistent, so it didn’t seem like they were all that important — and he’d never imagined there were this many Investigators. But as he listened while he walked, he picked up clues that there was a lot more to Investigators than investigating and solving crimes. They investigated the mysteries of the world, they investigated strange occurrences and rumors. Where Hunters fought a physical battle for Grimoire, Investigators fought the intellectual, psychological one.
Many of them cast uncertain glances at part of Caleb’s team — the former Shadows. Caleb could understand. Chelsea had a bitter feeling towards Anastasia because of their fight. But the Investigators took the Shadows far more personally. Their entire purpose was to protect Grimoire from human dangers, and especially from hidden dangers. Yet the Shadows had operated with impunity right under their nose, hidden from the very best minds in Grimoire. They were allies now, but there was more tension here than Caleb had felt above ground.
They soon reached the halfway checkpoint, a three-way intersection. Caleb had been to the left, where reddish-brown stone turned into glistening blue, leading to the entrance to the Grimson Bay ruins and what had once been the city of Marcus’ people. Their destination was forward, into darker tunnels, but first they exited into the blue cavern where Desmé was in charge.
Desmé was an elegant woman who didn’t look much older than Deirdre. She was dressed in the same librarian-style uniform as Octavian — despite appearances, the uniform was the same for both men and women, and had been designed by several female librarians a few decades ago. Her hair a waterfall of bluish-black curls, her eyes a deep, dark blue, her expression mysterious and hard to read, Desmé struck Caleb as flexible, fluid, and he vaguely recalled that, like Chelsea, she was an Elemental Mage, and her element was Water. She held her Talisman at all times, a tall blue staff topped with a crystalline sphere filled with swirling liquid.
“Good day to you all,” she said, greeting them with a melodious, soothing voice and a vague, hard-to-read smile. “I have already been informed of your objective. While all others have stayed away from the well of Darkness, I have ventured into those depths alone and observed its mystery.”
“Aren’t you not supposed to do that?” Chelsea asked, a hand on her hip, an eyebrow raised. “Especially not alone. That’s dangerous.”
“Indeed it is,” Desmé said, and she laughed softly, making Caleb think of a calm spring rain. “But curiosity cannot always be helped. Don’t you agree?” She seemed to direct that question at Will and Gwen in particular, a strange specificity that caught Caleb off-guard.
“It is best to satisfy one’s curiosity with trusted companions,” Gwen said, smiling slightly, “than on one’s own. Don’t you think so?”
“An intriguing perspective,” said Desmé. She turned her gaze to Will. “And you?”
Will paused a moment, then pulled out his phone, tapped out a message, and showed it to Desmé. Caleb couldn’t read it from his angle, and by the time he shifted to look at it, Will had already pocketed his phone. “Very interesting,” Desmé said. “Well, then. You should know that the well of Darkness is captivating. I think weaker hearts would fail before its power, particularly when left alone.”
“Like I said, don’t go there alone,” Chelsea said.
“Desmé, what are you getting at?” Artemis asked, her amber eyes narrowed. “I can usually figure you out, but not this time. And I think you’re losing the younger ones completely.”
“Not him,” Desmé said, smiling at Will. “But yes, I could perhaps be more forward. There is no physical danger, not yet, from the well. But it will come soon. The waters have risen, and they are more active every day.”
“You’ve been down there more than once?” Chelsea asked.
Desmé gave her a somewhat perplexed look, tilting her head slightly. “I have not,” she said. “I can feel it. Its waters course beneath our feet, and it sings a song, a song that grows louder every day. If you cannot hear it, count yourself lucky, but beware. It is preparing for the Lord of Night’s return. When he arrives, unless we are particularly powerful — and well-prepared — we may lose the entire Underground to Darkness. Perhaps the city above, as well.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Caleb said.
Even so, as they started down the darker passages to the well, Caleb’s thoughts lingered on Desmé’s warnings. He couldn’t feel anything strange beneath his feet. He couldn’t hear any song.
Who could? Could others in their group hear —
“Who hears the song?” Chelsea asked.
“Do you?” Gwen asked.
“No,” Chelsea said, face scrunched up slightly in a mixture of confusion and frustration. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”
“I don’t hear it, either,” Gwen said. Her golden eyes were bright in the dimness, gleaming with their own light. “I… thought I would, after what she said.”
“Why?” Caleb asked.
Chelsea and Gwen shared a look. “Because I’m not sure I’ve fully escaped my Other,” Gwen said in a hushed voice.
“I don’t hear a song,” Hestia said. She was the member of the Radiance who appeared closest in age to Caleb and Chelsea, with soft, innocent features that seemed even more pure now as they walked towards danger and Darkness. “Nor feel anything strange beneath my feet. What defines whether or not we can feel and hear the presence of this vast sea of Darkness?”
Will typed out a message on his phone. Stepping to the front of the group, he held it up over his shoulder for all to see:
“It chooses you.”
“Will, can you hear it?” Caleb asked, staring.
Will glanced back at him, his platinum-blonde bangs almost obscuring his pale blue eyes. He gave a short nod, and that motion combined with his subtle expression told Caleb one thing:
Will was frightened.
Wriggling out from his nest in Will’s hood came Trevain, his ultra-violet Summon, a squirrel-like creature with long, rabbit-like ears and huge black eyes — a firrin, a creature of Will’s own creation that appeared in many of his books. Trevain nuzzled up against Will’s neck, purring softly, his tail reaching up to brush beneath the cup of his headphones. Will adjusted his headphones, revealing the base of his right ear, and Trevain eagerly brushed his tail against Will’s earlobe.
“Dear friends,” Galahad said, flashing a brilliant smile, “we must cast our worries and fears far away. No Darkness can overcome the Light, after all. Let us hold the Light close in our hearts, and join together in bonds of friendship and camaraderie, to —”
“If you must launch into a heroic speech, at least do us the courtesy of keeping it short,” Artemis said, rolling her eyes.
“Fair Artemis, we must keep our spirits high!” Galahad said. “And we must not forget that many of us have been foes in the past, sometimes bitter, vicious foes, but now we are all here, working together towards one common, glorious purpose. It is important to foster unity in this time of —”
“You’re absolutely right, Galahad, thank you,” said Anastasia, nodding to Galahad with a kind smile. “But it is also important to recognize that we each have our own ways of preparing for a mission and motivating ourselves and our allies. For instance, I know that Bronn and Stride don’t care at all for heroic speeches or calls to arms. And I, for one, am not inclined toward joviality when such a serious purpose is before us. Your enthusiasm and optimism are appreciated, Galahad. But I think, if anyone should lead the way for us, it should be those placed in charge of this mission.”
Her violet gaze then went to Caleb and Chelsea, who both stood still, staring back at her.
“Hold up,” Chelsea said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just going to accept us as being in charge?”
“I don’t see why not,” Anastasia said, smiling kindly. It was strange even for Caleb to see, knowing how vicious a foe she’d been at the library, the night they’d all been whisked away to Hollow Island, and having heard about the cold smile Anastasia had given Chelsea during their duel. “You have both faced the Darkness, been cast into Shadowland, and come out again stronger than before — and you have done it twice, Reiner. As I tried to say, I hold no ill will towards you for our clashes long ago. Times have changed. And I must admit…” She cast her gaze towards the floor, her smile fading. “I was wrong. To fight you, to try and kidnap Isabelle. I am your foe no longer. But I wish we had never been foes in the first place. I would be proud to have you as my ally, and even as my leader.”
“All right, you can drop that,” Stride said, tilting the wide brim of his hat up and eyeing Anastasia with his right eye. “I don’t know why you’re playing nice, but there’s no need for it.”
“Yes, it is… rather unsettling to hear you say such things,” Sieglinde said, bowing her head.
“Ana, speak plainly,” Bronn said.
Anastasia sighed, shaking her head. And then she chuckled. “Ah, well,” she said in a voice that somehow sounded authentic compared to how she’d been speaking before. She spoke a bit more slowly, her voice dropping slightly in pitch from what Caleb now realized had been forced cheerful amicability. She was serious, while still having a bit of joy and amusement in her tone. “I must be honest. Blaise’s leadership is still so near, his departure from our ranks still so short-lived, that I’m struggling to find my way. I’m not entirely sure how to act. With you,” she nodded to Bronn, Stride, and Sieglinde, “it’s easy. But then we bring in Hestia and her team, and Caleb and Chelsea and their team, and the waters are muddied. I know we should work together, and I accept and embrace Grimoire’s incredible unity. I think us three separate teams coming together like this is something beautiful, but… I don’t know. It’s difficult for me to know which path to walk. I don’t think that I can lead, but —”
“You lead us,” Bronn said.
Anastasia stared at him for a long moment, something surprised and uncertain in her eyes. Slowly, she bowed her head. “That is kind of you,” she said. “But our team is not all there is. And we must work together to succeed.”
“Oh, if that’s all you’re worried about, that’s easy,” Caleb said. He and Chelsea grinned. “See, um… gotta be honest.” He rubbed the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. “I’m not really a leader-type. But none of us are. We’re teammates, not some kind of hierarchy. We work together and cooperate towards a common goal. We each have our roles, but none of those are ‘leader.’ Maybe it’s strange, maybe it doesn’t work for most people, but it’s how we’ve always operated.”
Will held up a message on his phone:
“Says the guy who was that captain of both of his sports teams.”
“Okay, yeah, I get that,” Caleb said, laughing. “But even with coaches and captains and stuff… well, swimming is pretty much just an individual thing, and even the relays, which I loved, were about teamwork, not about leadership. The coach and I were mainly in charge of training and making sure everyone got to be their best — in competitions, it was up to the team. As for volleyball, so much time is spent just… playing. It’s about the team, about communication and trust, not about the coach calling out the best plays or the captain telling people what to do. It’s kinda like swimming. The coach is more hands-on during games than in swimming, but his role was primarily in organizing practice and making sure we all stayed together and became the best we could for game day. And as a captain, I was basically just… a motivator, I guess. I’ve never been a commander-type.”
“Throw us into the leader role,” Chelsea said, “and we really wouldn’t know what to do. None of us has been a coach. We’d just make a mess of things. I mean, to be honest, I kinda like yelling out orders, but that’s part of why I don’t want to do it. I don’t like taking joy in telling other people what to do. And I’m such a free spirit, if I want to be free to make my own choices, I should trust my teammates to make their own choices, too.”
“Then we are at an impasse!” Galahad said.
Artemis smacked him in the back of the head. “We are not,” she said. “Who leads our team?”
“Charming Hestia, of course,” Galahad said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
“I’m certainly not the leader type, either,” Hestia said, shaking her head.
“She’s the one who woke us up,” Artemis said. “She’s the one who led the way for us to leave the Radiance. But as a team, when we went into battle, who led the team?”
“I…” Galahad started, and then puzzlement crossed his face. “Ah. I can’t seem to figure that out.”
“We worked just like Caleb and Chelsea are saying,” Hestia said, understanding dawning in her eyes. “We’re a team. We don’t need a command structure. We understand each other and can work together without commanding or ordering each other around.”
“But now we are three teams who don’t understand each other as well as our own individual units,” Athena said. “It’s more complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Will said, speaking for the first time since they’d all joined together. Though he was soft-spoken and didn’t emote much with his voice, the novelty of him speaking drew everyone’s attention to him. “Communication is how teams come together. As long as we communicate, and are open with each other, we can find a way forward.”
“That’s right,” Gwen said. “Cooperation is what we need to focus on. Rather than trying to put someone above us all, let us stand together as equals and cooperate towards a common cause. All of you, more so than myself, are of a common purpose and passion. Your beloved home is at stake. Regardless of the past, you are now bound together in unexpected unity. Let us communicate with each other and cooperate as a three-part unit towards our shared objective.”
“Sounds good to me,” Chelsea said, a hand on her hip, smiling at Gwen. “And we’ve got time, with the walk to the Well and knowing that the Well still isn’t doing anything yet. Let’s talk about what we can do and how we like to fight, get to know each other better so we’re better prepared for what comes up.”
“An interesting way of operating,” Anastasia said, a bemused smile on her face. “Cohesion and camaraderie over hierarchy. It won’t work for every combat unit — and the larger the combat unit, the more need there is for hierarchy and command — but for our small group, it should suffice. What matters is that we are all comfortable in our roles, and, as you said, we communicate with each other. While I was play-acting somewhat before, I was honest about my hopes that we could be allies, and… that I was wrong. For all that came before. I do wish to make amends, and —”
“Oh, just leave it,” Chelsea said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously. You apologized once. If that’s not enough, then what’s the point of an apology? I’m not your biggest fan, but I’m not your enemy, and you’re not mine. We’re on the same side here. And… for what it’s worth, I am glad to have you around. Even if my warning still stands.”
“You would really threaten to burn me?” Anastasia asked, cocking her head to the side.
“I’m just saying my flames aren’t used to the idea of you as an ally,” Chelsea said with a shrug. “They might be more bitter about our fight way back when than I am. Just telling you to be careful, that’s all. I’ll try to be careful, too.”
Anastasia smirked, and then let out a soft laugh. “That’s very kind of you. I’ll be careful.”
“This did not go at all how I expected,” Galahad said, pursing his lips in disappointment.
“Good,” Artemis said. “I hate it when things go your way. You get way too big of an ego.”
“It’s better this way,” Hestia said with a smile. “I much prefer cohesion and cooperation over hierarchy. To be honest… after leaving the Radiance, I’m not at all comfortable with having anyone give me orders. I spent too long blindly following and trusting someone who had lost their way. I need to be free to make my own decisions, as much as possible.”
“What she said,” Artemis said with a nod.
“Works for me,” Stride said with a shrug. “I never was much for following orders. I always trusted my leaders to trust me and have my back.” He nodded to Anastasia.
“Anastasia leads us,” Bronn said again, indicating himself, Stride, and Sieglinde. “But as a complete unit, our three teams combined, we can work with this communication and cooperation strategy.”
“So, since we’re gonna be communicating about our abilities,” Caleb said, eyeing Stride — in particular, his sword multi-sheaths, “does that mean you’re gonna tell us the details on each of your swords?”
Stride raised an eyebrow. “You look too excited,” he said. “You know enough about my swords already anyway.”
Caleb let out a dejected sigh, bowing his head. “It was worth a shot,” he muttered.
They continued on down the tunnels, talking as they went. Athena was silent for a long while, before finally speaking up as they passed the next checkpoint. “I… am grateful,” she said. “For me, the grief of losing my K— Leon is still too near. And… I am still slowly understanding, and coming to terms, with who he became and what I did in his name. To be led… or to lead… neither is comfortable for me. I am a master of Guardian Magic, and must use my power to protect, not to harm. I… will do my utmost to keep all of you safe. I hope that is enough.”
“That’s a huge help!” Caleb said with a broad smile. “Seriously, Guardian Magic is amazing! Whenever I have Shias or my grandpa around, it makes me feel so much more secure. I’m glad to have you with us. We may end up needing your power more than anyone else’s.”
Athena smiled, then, just for a moment. But it was something.
The investigative stations were fewer and farther between in these darker tunnels, and the work of carefully working through dirt, debris, and ages of change and transformation was slow and deliberate. It was quieter here, people worked with more caution.
The lights, though as numerous as they were in preceding tunnels, seemed dimmer down here. Several of them flickered now and then.
Will walked silently at the front of the group, slightly ahead of Caleb and Chelsea. Trevain remained on his shoulder, curled against his neck, his tail brushing the bottom of Will’s ear.
But Will’s silence worried Caleb. Will was quiet, very quiet, to the point that he didn’t even talk verbally that often, even among close friends. But knowing that Will could hear the song, could feel the rush of the Darkness beneath them… and that he was frightened… left Caleb wishing he could do something for him.
But while he was still contemplating what that should be, they reached the stairs. There, three Investigators were posted as a guard. They quickly let Caleb’s group through — Octavian and Desmé had both called ahead on their behalf — and barely even spoke to them. Only one of them, as Caleb was passing, murmured softly, “Don’t spend too long looking into the Well. It does… strange things to you.”
And then they were descending the stairs.
The atmosphere was stifling. Caleb couldn’t hear any strange song, he couldn’t feel the pulse of the Darkness beneath his feet, but though there was ample space on the stairs and in the cavernous openings around them, he felt confined, trapped, boxed in. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but he felt like he was right now. If it wasn’t for Chelsea’s hand in his, he might panic — a sobering realization. Was he really so afraid of something he hadn’t even come face-to-face with? Was he really afraid of the Darkness when he and Chelsea had already broken through the Shadowheart, the darkest part of their own Darkness?
No one spoke. In silence they descended, loosely spaced out along the stairs. Gwen stayed close to Chelsea and Caleb. Will walked a little ways ahead of them. Behind them, Hestia was close, followed by Artemis and Athena, sisters walking hand-in-hand, Athena’s expression troubled and somewhat pained. Galahad walked alone, his sharp gaze betraying that beneath his dramatic, over-exaggerated demeanor, he wasn’t a senselessly optimistic simpleton. He knew what was at stake here and was taking it seriously. Anastasia led her group behind the rest, and she, Sieglinde, Stride, and Bronn all kept relatively close together, Stride a little more distant because of his large sword multi-sheaths, and Bronn a little more distant because his massive musculature took up a huge amount of space.
Caleb looked to Chelsea, then to Gwen, and they both nodded, understanding. Chelsea took Gwen’s hand, and Caleb let go of Chelsea, walking ahead to descend right alongside Will. He pulled out his phone, tapped out a message, and held it up like Will often did with others:
“Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Will stared at the message for quite a while longer than was necessary to read it. Caleb didn’t lower his phone until Will finally pulled out his and started tapping away. He spent a long time on it before he held up his response:
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. There’s a song in my head. There are words, but I can’t make them out. It’s just a… feeling. And under my feet, every step, I can feel a faint rumbling. Like rushing waters, but with a rhythm, like a heartbeat. It’s just what Desmé talked about. But it’s hard to explain.”
Caleb responded with:
“You’re scared. Why?”
Will replied:
“I’m not sure if I am scared. It’s just very strange. It was frightening at first, but not as much anymore. Now it’s just unsettling. But it won’t go away. It’s definitely coming from below. From the Well.”
From Caleb:
“Like it’s calling you?”
From Will:
“It’s not so much that. It’s more some primal force, not calling like an invitation, but reaching out, with the expectation that I’ll come.”
Caleb thought about that for a while, trying to think of what to say. How could he help his friend? He was always the quickest to smile, the quickest to say it’s all going to be okay, but he was starting to feel more and more like that wasn’t enough. Like they were just empty platitudes, and in the face of such huge, massive dangers that wormed their way into your mind and your heart, words just… failed him.
So he didn’t respond with words. Instead, he raised his hand, clenched tightly into a fist. Will raised his, and they tapped the sides of their fists against each other’s. Caleb chuckled softly, and he was encouraged when he heard Will do the same. Trevain kept on purring, rubbing up against Will’s neck and brushing his ear.
Hang in there, Will. We’re gonna get through this, one way or another.
Moments later, they reached the bottom.
They had reached the wide, circular chamber where the Well of Darkness resided. It was massive for a well, a yawning ten-foot diameter pit in the center of the chamber. Directly over the pit hung a chandelier with many crescent-moon-shaped crystals. But the chandelier was dark, its crystals dirty, dusty, and cracked.
There was nothing else in the chamber.
Sieglinde touched the wall at the bottom of the stairs. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them, a look of subdued confusion on her face. “Yggdrasil… her roots won’t reach this deep,” she said. “In her mind, this chamber is not part of Grimoire.”
“Not part of Grimoire?” Caleb asked.
Sieglinde nodded. “She has bonded with the city itself. I don’t know how you see our beloved city, but Blaise, and the rest of us, we have always seen her, the city of Grimoire, as a living being herself. Yggdrasil’s connection with Grimoire… it makes that seem even more true to me now.” Keeping her hand on the wall, she looked around the chamber, a wide, grimly curious look in her eyes. “And down here, in this chamber around this well of Darkness… Grimoire ends. Something else begins.”
——
Lorelei sat down, gulping down an entire bottle of water in one swift sitting, breathing a heavy sigh when she finished. She was in Grimoire General Hospital’s fifth floor break room, which also served as the center of the primary trauma and critical care center of all of Grimoire’s medical efforts in this time of crisis.
She stared at her hands. Her fingers trembled. It had started only recently, but she couldn’t get it to stop.
“Have more than just water.” The man who spoke was one of Grimoire’s doctors, Doctor Fowler. He’d been one of the main leaders among the non-mage medical personnel who had joined the Healer Corps. He was a kindly man in his fifties, with many visible laugh lines and soft green eyes in a round, expressive face. He handed Lorelei a sports drink and a chocolate bar, then took a seat across from her. “I’m beginning to understand how Healing Magic operates, I think. All magic essentially treats your exertions as physical exertions, from what I’ve been told. Healing Magic is different, though. There’s a more delicate physical balance that it works upon, pulling at parts of your body that normal physical exertions won’t. You’re depleting electrolytes and sugars, of course, and quite rapidly, but there’s more to it than that.” He adjusted his glasses and gestured for Lorelei to drink and eat. She did, gulping down half the sports drink and taking a few bites of the chocolate bar before Doctor Fowler continued. “But it pulls at other things. Your blood levels deplete, for one, despite not bleeding or having blood drawn.”
“We lose blood through Healing Magic?” Lorelei asked. She’d never heard of such a thing.
Doctor Fowler nodded. “The exact mechanics of it are unclear, but the results are undeniable. It was our head nurse, Grace Thiels, who made the observation and then tested it. After the first test proved true, we’ve been testing every Healer since. When you use your Healing Magic, no matter what kind of wounds or injuries you’re putting back together, you’re giving blood. Though… not directly to the patient.”
“You don’t know where the blood goes, is what you’re saying.”
Doctor Fowler nodded. “Exactly. We think… well, this is all very new to us.” He chuckled. “We think perhaps your own blood is converted into some kind of magical energy that you use for the Healing process. Does that sound possible?”
Lorelei thought on that for some time, staring at her hands and thinking back on her most recent Healings, and so many other times she’d used her Healing Magic in the past. “There is… something,” she said. “It’s as if I can touch and put their body back together with my own hands, though I’m not actually doing that, not physically. Perhaps that’s what’s going on. All magic draws upon ourselves, the world around us, or both. It makes sense to me that Healing Magic would pull from the Healer directly.”
Doctor Fowler considered that. “And if you are helping heal and regenerate life, then it would make sense to draw upon your own blood, the very life that courses through your own veins. Fascinating.”
“It’s… interesting.” Lorelei took another bite of the chocolate bar, then gulped down some more of the sports drink. “I also use Ice Magic, and I don’t pull from particles in the world around me to create or manipulate my ice. I… create it. Out of nothing. But maybe that’s because Elemental Magic is different. Perhaps it’s my Elemental I pull from to create ice. Everything has to come from somewhere, at least that’s how the physical world operates… or how we’ve understood it to operate so far.”
“You’re a bit of a scientist, I see,” Doctor Fowler said with a smile.
Lorelei shrugged. “I don’t know that I’d call myself that. I do like to think about and understand how things work, though. But I think… I don’t think we have all the answers. I don’t think we ever will. Magic fits into that understanding of everything coming from something fairly well at first, but there is magic that doesn’t fit so neatly into it.”
“Perhaps magic itself is an unseen force that some classes of magic can draw upon to work their miracles?” Doctor Fowler suggested.
“But then we’d have to ask why that pervasive magic doesn’t power all forms of magic. Healing Magic draws heavily upon the Healer, we’ve always known that. And Energy Magic is sometimes used to seemingly create energy out of nothing — perhaps out of magic itself — but other times it directly manipulates existing energy.” Lorelei smiled and bowed her head. “But we’re getting off-track here. I still have quite a lot of work to do. I’m sure you do, too.”
“Not as much as you might think — for either of us,” Doctor Fowler said. “Having just one Healer join up fresh and ready to go made a huge difference, at least for today. Having you here marks the first time since we all started working together that we’re actually fully caught up.”
Lorelei stared, wide-eyed, unsure if she’d heard him right. But slowly, she looked around, and saw that the vast majority of nurses and doctors were taking well-deserved breaks. And those still hustling and bustling around, transporting medical supplies or reports or checking in on healed patients who were resting and getting their strength back, weren’t hustling and bustling with a great sense of urgency.
“We’re… all caught up?” Lorelei asked.
“We are,” Doctor Fowler said, holding out his hand. “Thanks to you, Miss Frost.”
“Please,” Lorelei said, taking Doctor Fowler’s hand and marveling at how warm it was, “just call me Lorelei.”
She and Doctor Fowler talked a little while longer, but then he left — both to see to other patients, and to give Lorelei some space to rest. A piping hot meal was brought to her, and she ate with greater abandon than she’d expected — she was ravenously hungry, and hadn’t even realized it. She took advantage of the quiet and rest to send a message through Re:Code to Chelsea, Caleb, Will, and Gwen, letting them know she was thinking of them and checking in on their progress. She didn’t get a response right away, but she hadn’t expected one.
Part of her wanted to go join them, now that today’s work as a Healer was over. But the more she looked around the hospital, the more she realized that this was where she needed to be. She needed to get her strength back, and prepare for the wounded and injured that would surely follow tonight’s extended Hollow Hour.
But, just for a moment, she felt something strange. Like a song, or a hint of a song, far away, yet somehow very close. And she thought she felt something — a heartbeat, or the flow of water? — beneath her feet.
It passed in a moment. So quick, so fleeting, she wondered if it had happened at all.
She stood, shaking her head, shaking her head, shaking off the lingering feelings of uncertainty, and crossed to the window. Gazing out across Grimoire, now bathed in golden light, beautiful snow reflecting it marvelously, she thought of her friends.
Chelsea, Caleb, Will, Gwen…
Be safe. Let’s all do our part, and reunite at the end.