The next hours blurred together.

 

Healers rushed through the battlefield. The dead were counted. Thousands on both sides. Bodies lay in rows, covered with whatever cloth could be found. Soldiers knelt beside fallen comrades. Somewhere a woman was screaming for her son.

 

Most of Malachar's forces surrendered. They dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, the mind control finally broken. Small groups of those actually loyal tried to run. They were hunted down.

 

But Marcus didn't care about any of it.

 

He was rushing home with his cousin to find his family. His heart pounded with every step. His wounds screamed in protest. But he kept moving.

 

They reached the village at the edge of Drakmoor. Smoke rose from some of the houses. But the Miller home still stood.

 

Marcus saw his grandfather standing outside.

 

"Grandpa!" He ran and threw his arms around the old man.

 

Tom crashed into them from behind, wrapping them both in his massive embrace.

 

"My boys." Grandpa's voice cracked. "My boys are home."

 

Marcus found his twin cousins Tim and Tam hiding behind their grandfather's legs. Their faces were tear-streaked but they were unharmed.

 

"Grandpa, is everyone alright?" Marcus asked.

 

His mother and his aunts rushed out of the house. Their faces were wet with tears. They fell upon Marcus and Tom, pulling them into a tangle of arms and sobs.

 

"Mom, it's over now. We won." Marcus said. Then his blood ran cold. "Where is Dad? Where are my uncles?"

 

His mother kissed him on the forehead while crying. "Where else? They were defending the city."

 

"NOOOO!"

 

Marcus tried to break free. Tried to get back to the battlefield. His mother held him tight.

 

"Son, stop. We just got you back."

 

"Cousin." Marcus pointed at Tom with his head. His voice was desperate. "We need to get back. Find them."

 

Tom nodded. His face was pale.

 

They ran back to the battlefield. Some men recognized Tom and knew his relation to Marcus. They congratulated him as he passed. But Marcus ignored them all. He searched every treatment tent. Pushed past healers and wounded soldiers. His heart was in his throat.

 

Finally he found both his uncles. They had taken serious wounds but they were alive. Tom rushed forward and hugged his father, tears streaming down his face.

 

But Marcus was afraid to ask the question. "Uncle, where..."

 

Suddenly his breath was cut off. He was being squeezed. He turned with force.

 

It wasn't an attack. It was a hug.

 

His dad was the one hugging him.

 

"Marcus. You're back and alive." Garret said. His voice broke on every word.

 

"Dad." It was the only thing Marcus could say.

 

And then he started crying. They both were crying. Father and son, reunited on a field of the dead. For minutes they held each other. Crying and sighing. Making sure everyone was alive.

 

His uncle finally spoke. "Is it true? The war is over? The dark mage is dead?"

 

"Yes, Dad." Tom answered. "Marcus caught him. But he's not dead." He shook his head. "Not yet."

 

One of the nurses cut in. "They're setting up a stage. He will be hanged in a couple of hours."

 

"Now?" Garret asked, surprised.

 

"Dad, his mind magic is too powerful. And the machines I brought will die in..." Marcus removed the metal ball and looked at its charge indicator. "...six hours."

 

"I wish he was dragged through the streets of every country he caused harm. Every nation he annihilated."

 

"This is better, Dad. We will get rid of him and move on."

 

Garret patted his son's head. "I know you're smarter than me. But it seems you're wiser too." He smiled despite the pain.

 

"Then you should go to the ceremony. The trial. Whatever is going to happen." His uncle said. "We can't walk properly." He turned to Tom. "Tom, take Garret and Marcus and go." He pushed his son.

 

When they reached the city center, Marcus remembered the first time they had come here. The young king had crushed their dreams of safe haven and literally pushed them toward slavery.

 

But now the king seemed thinner. Older. Sicker. All those weights of dealing with problems since he took the throne. But the smugness had faded from his face. He was looking genuine now, waving his hands to his people.

 

When the king was waving and celebrating with his people, their eyes met. The king's smile widened. He started pointing, calling Marcus to the stage.

 

"Cousin, the king is calling you... I think." Tom said, smiling.

 

Marcus reluctantly walked around the people and climbed onto the stage. Sister Korra welcomed him. Right after, the king rushed to his side.

 

"Marcus! Welcome back." He hugged Marcus. "I have been informed we won thanks to you. Ask me anything and I will give it to you."

 

Marcus was puzzled. He cocked his head.

 

"You want money? Women? Land?" The king asked.

 

Marcus shook his head. "No, no. I don't need anything."

 

"How about being my right-hand man? I could really use your brain."

 

"No. Thanks to that offer too." Marcus looked at the king's tired face. "I can see the damage the responsibility of the crown did to you."

 

"Yeah. I can understand. But you can ask me anything."

 

"Well... there is one thing."

 

"Tell me."

 

"I heard Alice Brightshield..." He turned to Sister Korra. Her head raised at her sister's name. "...she helped against Malachar before my arrival. The isolation of Malachar and his army really helped us a lot."

 

"What do you want?" The king asked.

 

"Forgiveness for her. She was young and tricked by Lord Varek."

 

The king scratched his head. "After all this..." He opened his arms. "...all this we have been through, I decided never to forgive treason."

 

Sister Korra's head bowed again with disappointment.

 

Marcus wanted to object, but the king stopped him.

 

"But given that she actually gave crucial intel, and our hero's request... I am making an exception."

 

Both Marcus and Sister Korra's eyes brightened.

 

"However, she cannot be a citizen. She has to be banished."

 

"Thank you, Your Highness." Marcus said.

 

Sister Korra's eyes were wet with tears. "Thank you," she whispered.

 

When the trial ceremony started, the king sat side by side with representatives of the reinforcements from all over the world. Other than Talipolis Island's King Turmin, everyone else was just commanders of their armies. Yet the king treated them as equals and seated them beside him.

 

Almost everyone was present at the stage. Even people who had fought in the battle. They were shouting and swearing at the sight of Malachar.

 

Marcus was at the side, watching with Sister Korra and Lord Hammond.

 

When everything was ready, Malachar was brought to the stage with his hands tied. But his mouth was open. He was constantly trying to use his magic, but the mind-freeing machines were placed all around the stage. His power found nothing to grasp.

 

The king stood up and walked toward the gathered people. He tried to lower their noise with his hands.

 

"I wished we could do this after we recovered as a country, as a nation. But this has to be done now. He used his god-given talent to poison us." He turned to the crowd. "So I am asking my people: DO YOU FIND HIM GUILTY?"

 

The crowd shouted back. "GUILTY!"

 

"IS HE GUILTY?" The king asked again.

 

"GUILTY!" The crowd roared louder.

 

"IS HE GUILTY?" He asked once more, veins popping from his face.

 

"GUILTY!" The voice was deafening. It shook the very stones of the city.

 

Without any wait, the king walked up to Malachar. With a kick, he dropped the tyrant to his death. The rope snapped taut. Malachar's body swung once. Twice. Then was still.

 

The king returned to face the cheering crowd. But his face was filled with sadness.

 

"I am sorry, my people. We lost so many. Now that we have gotten rid of the cancer, healing can begin. Today we will bury our dead, treat our wounds, and start anew."

 

The crowd applauded him.

 

"I talked with the representatives. We decided to prevent this from ever happening again. We have reached a pact including eleven countries and seventeen nations Malachar captured. From this day on, we will act as children of this world. And protect this world together."

 

Most of the crowd didn't seem to understand him. But applause rose anyway.

 

"After we set everything in order, I will travel to each country and make sure peace will be protected among all nations."

 

It hit Marcus then. They were reaching a United Nations-like agreement. A world order without any superpowered country. A true peace.

 

His eyes watered.

 

Ephus might really be saved. Its advancement could start properly now.

 

"Lastly, I want to honor some names." The king listed the names of kings and commanders who had come to their aid. Then he bowed his head. Bit the inside of his mouth.

 

"And some names you may never have heard as citizens. But in my small council, they acted solely to save Valdris. To save our planet. These names showed bravery and wit when we needed it most." He started clapping. "They are not royalty or of royal blood. But they have become legends of our history."

 

He paused.

 

"Sara Miller. Aldric Thorne. Palwin Shan. Tom of Millhaven." His voice rose. "And lastly, Marcus of Millhaven!"

 

The whole crowd caught on to his relentless clapping. Marcus's eyes watered. Lord Hammond pushed him toward the stage.

 

When Marcus was walking toward them, he saw Tom pulling Sara and Palwin to the stage from among the crowd. Aldric was just behind them with an embarrassed face.

 

When the five stood on stage hugging each other, they bowed at the clapping crowd. Marcus saw Numan among the crowd, standing with Marcus's family. He was smiling and clapping with enthusiasm.

 

Marcus pointed at him. Tried to call him to the stage.

 

But Numan shook his head no. He was content where he was.

 

Marcus turned back to his friends. His family of choice. Sara, Aldric, Palwin, Tom.

 

They had done it.

 

Against all odds, they had saved the world.

 

And now, finally, they could rest.