After a short break, Mother led the way again, and the area around the elders was replete with their spirit energy. It came out as golden ribbons, the force of their energy snapping in time with the hits of the electric sparks above.

An energy ribbon stretched out, slapping the ground next to Merryn.

"Yeep!"

Mother tackled her out of the way as another extended and snapped down where she stood a moment before.

####

Mother's voice had risen and fallen in tempo with the elder's energy. What had she said? Just like before with the Calcines, the memories shuttered way; locked tight.

I don't want to think about this any more anyway, all that had happened was far worse than any nightmare ever could be. A flash of Mother screaming, the elders they...

She shook her head, her eyes squeezed shut, with both hands pressed into the sides of her face.

"Are you all right?" Warm hands covered hers.

Still here, still listening—that meant a lot. Would others be so patient? She took his hand and lightly squeezed before letting go.

"What happened next, well the elders couldn't help it in the trance state, they probably couldn't tell..."

She paused.

"The elders were in a type of trance—have I mentioned that already?"

Parcival nodded. "I believe so."

A light quiver shook her body, and she wrapped her arms tight around herself.

"This isn't where I want to stop; what I need to tell you..."

She took a breath, willing her nerves to calm.

"Before all this—before I was even born—the war between us and the humans; over something so stupid as opals! Ended when Jamel, an ancient elder, cast a forbidden spell; Gaia split. He created a deep chasm in the earth, dividing the warring parties. It worked, but he went too deep."

She crossed and uncrossed her legs, the pins and needles sensation traveled to an ankle.

"Deeper than any mortal or immoral ever should have gone."

Parcival startled, he leaned back. "That chasm? The Blighted Scar?"

"That's the one. The Calcines came from there."

He shot up, his steps forceful as he paced the room. The boards scraped faintly under his mass.

He started to speak, looked her way, then closed his mouth while scratching at the faint dusk of bristles on his jaw.

"This is overwhelming." He rubbed his face with his palms, his face rigged. Just as quick, he dropped his hands and stared off at nothing. Slowly, a glimmer entered his eyes again.

"If your people caused them to appear, then it's feasible that they have an acrimony against you and yours. Perhaps they are in opposition to—"

"Sorry to interrupt. They hunger. You've seen them salivate, remember the drool? The emaciated bodies? They feed off people's spirit energy. We still don't know why they want or need it."

Shifting, she knelt on a knee before standing and waited for the blood to reach her feet, the toes now cold from sitting too long. The spells couldn't be already aging me it's too soon, or maybe I've been in the mortal world too long. There's magic here, but it's more faint than back home.

"Will they come back?"

They might be following me for Unnamed's energy. If I leave, they should stay away. Even with all the mages there, hopefully they'll follow. Her brow twitched. I never thought I'd ever think that.

"If I leave soon, then no." I wonder if I can earn passage on a ship here? Finally, I found a port city, and hadn't he been trying to get me there for how many weeks—days? What day was it anyway?

"First you—we are obligated to pay our debt and finish the labors the elders set." He continued to pace from one end to the other.

He's right, this is mostly my fault, even if he won't say so. She played with an ear, pulling it down, then letting it bounce back. If it was anyone else, it'd be tempting to just disappear, I can't and won't do that to him though, his intentions were good. He should have left me as stone. Maxwell can't be blamed for this, not this time.

Her words tightened on speaking as she said, "What made you decide to save me? You had your chance to be free of all this."

His lips parted and he blinked, stopping mid-step. He strode over and poked the top of her head. "We're friends, remember? I couldn't just jettison you beneath the carriage like that."

Humans—they caused the war, didn't they? I've always been told how heartless they all are—nothing more than bloodthirsty beings intent on conquest. Her upper lip wrinkled and quivered. Parcival wasn't anything like that at all, nor Opial or Beekaa, not one bit. I've been so hard on everyone.

She sniffed and pushed it down a little. Trying to speak came out as a squeak. Her head hung; it was too much to see him at that moment.

Her voice softened, "you need to think about this, what I've done doesn't deserve help."

"That's for me to decide."

His hands reached toward her.

"You've opened a door that'll never be shut again. Don't you realize that?" He tentatively touched her cheeks. "When—" He gulped. His face took on that look young kids had and in their eyes, a spark of a shining kindled within. He smiled soft and sweet, usually so hidden. "This is over, and spring comes, would you like to accompany me on a stroll sometime?"

Her mind blanked out, and she didn't say anything. A stroll? That sounds— alright. She clasped his warm hand.

"Strictly—as friends, of course, I didn't mean to imply..." He blushed. "And we can go together with Han and pick out fresh seafood." He smiled.

She chuckled. "That sounds fun." It makes me want to... eee, ah! She batted the thought away.

#####

They left and went back to the city. Her hair whipped in front of her, the wind teased it. She cut one of the long pouch ties that dangled off with a dagger and put her hair up in a quick, messy bun. That's right, it's still the same day, and talking with him makes it feel like more time has passed than what really has. This is going to be a busy day, and... sad. The plan from before about leaving him and Han to steal away on a ship doesn't seem so good anymore. It seems stupid. I'll just buy a boarding pass. Will they want to come with? I don't want to do this alone anymore. The edge of my blade is dulling...

Parcival and her went back to the temple; Han and Opial were there waiting.

Han held his spectacles in his paws, cleaning them with a cloth. He squinted, tilting his head, his gaze long and sharp before relaxing into an inviting smile as he put them back on. "Praise be, they're finally back!"

Beeka came out of the temple building blowing out his cheeks, "I find this hard to believe, I was convinced she'd taken off."

Opial flashed him a sharp look, then shot up and almost collided into her. "I was worried something had happened to you both." She bowed at Parcival. "Captain."

"Still feel like coming with?"

"Of course!" Han whispered, "It's very dull here."

A cough. Beeka came around the temple building. "I wish you all well on your journeys, let’s meet up again some time." He bowed, then she and everyone else bowed back.

Parcival bowed again. "Thank you for your help."

After more bowing and partings, they left and went back to the center of the city, Parcival took the lead again and puled her off into a separate district. He told the morticians what they'd been ordered to do and sent them off to help the families (those that remained) with placing the bodies in the coffins. What was different from back home is that several ice stones were packed with the bodies. Some bodies had no families left at all.

An old woman who'd lost her husband stared at the coffin. She didn't cry or say anything. All emotion was gone from her face. She robotically placed the stones inside. Merryn had to strain to tell if she was even breathing. Not everyone weeps; sometimes they become empty, only for everything to flood in later.

She helped her with the coffin and placed everything else where she wanted it to go.

Opial also helped the families arrange the flowers, and Han helped carve wooden pictures to place next to the coffins.

She and the others were quiet.

"I never should have–" the words rolled into a bolder, heavy and hard to use.

"What use is blame now?" said Opial.

She might be right. Not that part of me doesn't want to curl up into a ball or run away at times. A few months ago I'd do just that, am I even me anymore?

At the end of the day, Parcival took them to a large rolling outdoor restaurant, it was like a large street stall, but with wheals. Enchanting slick coated black and gray horses pulled it walking at a sleepy pace, each clip-clop of the hooves light as they made laps arround the streets.

"Let me pay for them." Parcival pointed at the menu and held up five fingers.

"Thank you, but yhere's only—": Opial caught her attention. Don't say that number. Five is fine; we can split the last.

Behind a large griddle, the short old man nodded, smiled, turned, and started tossing ingredients together in a bowl. He started on another and poured an egg mixture over it.

She rolled from her heels to the pads of her feet, unable to help it. Ah, that looks so good. Her stomach remembered itself becoming hollow. She breathed in and swallowed.

Parcival grinned. "This is a Golden crispy omletta'."

He then slapped a chunk of some delicious fat that sizzled on the long griddle before him. Several pours, chopping and flippings later he deftly slid the steaming fragrant food into a sleeve of some crispy, thin batter cake wrapped in a stripped leaf. He drizzled a pinkish sauce on top and handed them to Parcival.

He paid him and bowed turned, and held out one. "Go on."

"Thank you." She remembered to bow, then took it. Savory and rich smells batted against her nose. She took a bite. "Oh my word." A thick spicy creamy bright golden sauce. If he ever wants to get anyone on his side, he just needs to give people one of these. Hea, hea.

Han just about swooned while he ate; purring loudly.

She swore he made a couple of cute noises while eating.

"Next up, repairing the buildings." Parcival ate the last bite, carefully folded the leaf, and placed it in the tunic. It bulged then dissappeared. An odd magic, that.

She avoided his gaze and nibbled on hers. Blarg! Just over inked paper, not a leaf at all. Why would anyone wrap good food in paper when there are real tasty leaves out there?

Parcival held a fist to his mouth, hiding a smile, before continuing into the city. "Come on, this way," he said.

The screeching of Sealarks filled her ears, and a warm breeze carried with it the briny salt of the ocean. The sea was calm this day, but calm or not, the deep waters often took more than they gave back.

Off ahead, a long line of workers carried barrels of goods. Further down, past the bustling harbor, several new ships were tied to the long docks.

Opial chatted with her and Han, the food must have given her good spirits.

A bell clanged bong-dong, and the workers finished their work and started to leave—a few at first, then a tide of commotion and voices.

They all went and stood in line at a booth, and a skinny man—very likely the boss—handed them each a pouch after they went into town.

She started over to him when Parcival held out an arm.

"Let me. At least until you are done here, you'll have fewer problems if I start the conversation. Otherwise, he might end up ignoring you." He went over to talk to the foreman.

Han and Opial stood beside her and waited.

I hope we can finish this task without too much trouble.

Han played with his tail, flipping it back and forth.

The foreman rubbed his small chin, saying nothing, and studied Parcival. They started talking again. Parcival bowed, then signed for them to come over.

"I am told all of you are the cause of the destruction, yes?"

She nodded, "That is correct."

"There's only one storage facility around here, so take the materials and tools and be on your way. And remember to bring the tools back when you're done, or I'll charge you all triple for the loss. Good tools are irreplaceable."

Parcival nodded. "I understand."

After a few minutes of walking to the storage building, they all took turns hauling out the wood, tools, and such.

The foreman went beside Parcival. "Start on the building in the dead-end alley, where the statues were. Those houses are in the worst shape."

"We'll get right on it."

More bowing between them, than he left into the hum of the city.

It took them every day they had left, but they had just managed to finish the sixth home before their time was up.

The forman on this, the last day, had tagged along and helped them a little. His usually stern and craggy face stretched into a bright grin.

Too exhausted, she flopped onto an empty stop of grass, then pulled off the hot cloak. "I'm glad we could help." And also glad that's done, things are sore that I've never had sore before.