Fae was first into the final Echo of Truth. And when she entered…
Something strange happened.
She wasn’t separated from her body, like every other time. She remained attached to her body, floating above it, unable to move on her own. Then Olivia and Sonya followed, but not just them. For the first time, Mercury, Neptune, Jupiter, Madeline, Ciel, and Toryu were all able to enter the Echo of Truth.
Despite the larger group, it didn’t seem any less spacious. This Echo was clearly larger than all the others. Yet it still retained the same shape — cylindrical, with a mosaic along the wall, on the ceiling, and on the floor.
“Fae?” Olivia asked, looking at Fae’s body. But when Fae spoke a reply, no one seemed to hear. Not until the Sojourner repeated it through Fae’s body.
“Nothing’s changed,” the Sojourner repeated for Fae. “It isn’t like the previous Echoes.”
“Perhaps because it is the final Echo?” Sonya asked. She had her notebook out and was watching as the walls, floor, and ceiling slowly lit up, revealing their mosaics.
“It’s… like a reminder,” Olivia said. Fae thought the same thing. Along the walls were flashes of what they’d seen at each previous Echo — Fae as she would be if taken over by Wasuryu, three reaching for three, the origins of the Orphan of the Dawn, all of it.
And yet there was one new thing. On the wall opposite the door they’d entered, there was an image of the amulet, the one that hung around Fae’s neck, the one that had contained a fragment of the Orphan of the Dawn’s soul — the Sojourner. The amulet was pulsing faintly, with a steady rhythm, as if…
“It’s waiting,” Fae said, and the Sojourner repeated. She walked forward until she was right in front of the wall, and then pulled out the real amulet and held it out. The mosaic amulet blazed with golden light that flooded the entire chamber, so bright and strong that it obscured all else from sight.
When the light faded…
There was a new door. Through this door was golden light, light that danced and glittered with inviting warmth. And from beyond the door also came…
“A song,” Mercury said softly. “It sounds so… familiar.”
“Yeah,” Jupiter said. “Hold on. Through that door. Is that…”
“Yes,” the Sojourner said, to Fae alone. “Through there is the Orphan of the Dawn. Your long journey has finally reached its destination.”
Fae felt something leap within her, a hope that she fought back.
Don’t get excited. Not yet. Not until you know that there’s real healing here.
She asked the Sojourner to tell the others, and she did.
“We… made it,” Olivia said softly.
And then Fae realized that everyone was staring at her. Waiting.
“Let’s go,” she said. She was holding her breath, conflicted emotions roiling within her. What lay waiting for her out there in that field of golden light? What hope was there for her?
Was this really the end? Would everything really be made right?
Through the door she went, and everyone else followed.
It truly… is beautiful.
She’d seen it, again and again, through mosaics. She’d heard it described by Toryu. But to be here now, after so much…
It was finally real. It wasn’t a story told by Dragons or pictures. The Orphan of the Dawn was real.
And she was dazzling.
A Location that is also a person.
Fae had to remind herself of that, that a fragment of the Orphan’s soul was controlling her body right now. Because it was impossible otherwise to see this vast landscape, this dazzling, golden land, as a person.
Or… perhaps it wasn’t.
There was something magical here, magical in that way that Fae often missed with all the clearly defined and practiced magic of Grimoire’s mages. Like a fairy tale come to life, like something out of a story book or a dream, there was magic here that no Talisman could bring forth, that no mage could quantify and inscribe in a book.
The way the lights danced and glittered, like fairies in a magical land, yet with a steady rhythm, made Fae imagine them as the steady breathing of the Orphan of the Dawn. Fields of flowers and golden grass swayed in a breeze in time with those breaths. And there was music, music with no discernible source, music that came from all directions, that seemed distant and yet right beneath them all at once.
She’s singing.
There, far off, atop a hill, stood a beautiful tree. Its boughs spread wide, white and smooth, and its leaves fluttered in the breeze, shimmering gold and green. Flowers in vibrant colors gathered around the tree’s base.
There was no other clear landmark in this golden land. And when Fae looked inward, looked towards the Sojourner, the Sojourner pointed to the tree.
“There is where you are called,” the Sojourner said. “There you can learn the full truth, and be healed.”
Healed?
Could it really be? There, on that hill, beneath that tree…?
Fae started forward, and the others followed. They were silent, taking it all in. Mercury and Jupiter were smiling. Mercury had a bit of a spring in her step, a light dance as she walked to the song, and Jupiter was tapping out a light drumbeat accompaniment on her legs. Neptune, surprisingly, looked concerned. Madeline held Ciel’s hand as she walked with him, watching him as he gazed about in wonder. Olivia and Sonya walked straight ahead, focused on their destination. And Toryu brought up the rear, wearing a wistful expression.
They reached the tree, and there Fae felt something new. The singing was louder, but not in an unpleasant way — more in how it felt, like it resonated through Fae, and that was when she realized, while she couldn’t feel anything else…
She could feel the song.
For a moment, that was all there was. Just basking in the glow, surrounded by light and beauty, feeling the song run through Fae, warming and amazing her.
And then… a voice spoke. A familiar voice, for it was the Sojourner’s voice, and yet it didn’t come from within Fae, but from…
The tree.
“You have arrived,” the Orphan of the Dawn said. Her voice was the Sojourner’s, and yet carried with it a depth of emotion the Sojourner did not have. She spoke resonantly, warmly, her voice all around them. “Fae Greyson. Olivia Quinn. Sonya Marlow. I must apologize. For your journeys have been perilous and painful. I never desired that.”
“But it was out of your control,” Fae said. “We understand that.”
Before the Sojourner could repeat her words, the Orphan of the Dawn responded. “Thank you. But I am still grievously sorry. Now that you are here, though… Fae Greyson. Allow me to reverse what the wicked Dragon has done to you. Allow me to make you whole again.”
“You can really do that?” Mercury asked, her eyes lighting up. “You’re going to heal her?”
“Yes,” the Orphan of the Dawn said. “I am sorry for what you have endured. Let me not make you suffer a moment longer.”
“Thank goodness,” Mercury said, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. She smiled at Fae.
But Fae didn’t feel relief. She felt worry. Even as all the others were relieved and excited…
“Stop,” Fae said. The Sojourner appeared to her, and gazed at her with confusion.
“What is it?” the Sojourner asked.
Fae hesitated a moment. “What… what aren’t you telling us? What aren’t you telling me?”
The Sojourner was silent a long moment. And then… she bowed her head. “I… feel responsible. If I had prepared something better, or if the map had reached you sooner, or if I could have prevented Wasuryu in some way… I failed you, Fae. Please. Let me make this right.”
“That isn’t an answer to my question,” Fae said. “What… what’s it going to take for you to heal me?”
The Sojourner looked up. And then…
She smiled.
“You’re quite perceptive,” she said. “I… am trying to protect you.”
“From the truth?” Fae asked. She shook her head. “Don’t. This isn’t your fault. Don’t give me something as precious as healing without telling me everything about it. What are you hiding? What… what is it going to take for you to heal me?”
“Going to take?” the Sojourner asked.
Fae nodded. “If it was so easy for you, you would have just done it. But you’re hiding something. I can only think… that healing me must come at some kind of cost for you. And if that cost is too great… I don’t want you to go through with it.”
“What if there is no other way to heal you?”
“Then I’ll stay this way.” Fae gazed resolutely at the Sojourner. “I don’t want to be healed if the cost is too great. This wasn’t your fault. I know you’re selfless and kind, and you want to do anything you can for me. But if you have to sacrifice something for my sake…”
“Hey, what’s going on?” Jupiter asked. The conversation between Fae and the Sojourner was silence to everyone else.
“Tell me,” Fae said. “The price for healing me. What is it?”
The Sojourner dropped her gaze. And yet she smiled, which only made her next words harder to believe. “I can heal you. That is no lie. But to do so… the cost… is my own life.”
“Your life?” Fae asked. “And you… you don’t mean… just the Sojourner, do you? It’s not just a fragment of the Orphan of the Dawn’s soul, but…”
The Sojourner nodded. “Correct.”
“Then I refuse.”
The Sojourner looked up at Fae. “Will you please tell me why?”
“Because giving your life to save mine isn’t fair,” Fae said. “I’m not dead. I don’t like this situation, I don’t like what I am right now, but I’m alive. So it’s not a fair price. That’s first. But second, you’ve called so many people here to help them. If you die… that’s over. You’re gone, you save me, but what about all the others you could have helped, you should have helped? That’s wrong. You need to live, you need to be here, for everyone else you’re going to call. Everyone else who’s… lonely. Hurting. Lost. They’re in need of something, something only you can help them find. Like Olivia, Sonya, and me. You called us here. If you die now, you’ll save me from this physical state, but… you can’t give us what we were called for. You can’t give Olivia or Sonya what they need.” She fixed the Sojourner with a determined stare. “So I refuse. Giving up your life to heal me is unacceptable. Your selflessness shouldn’t go that far. There are too many people who need you.”
“I see.” The Sojourner nodded. “You have truly come a long way. I’m glad to see it. And… I accept your refusal. But I must caution you that you may remain broken like this forever. I will do what I can, but —”
“There is another solution,” came a warm, melodious voice. It was familiar — the painter, Fae recognized. The one she’d seen when she’d drifted in a strange sleep, before first meeting the Sojourner. And she’d seen him again, in one of the Echoes of Truth, as a mosaic.
Beside the tree, a door opened with a soft creak. It hadn’t been there before, not until it opened. Inside…
The artist’s studio. Fae recognized that — the dark, long shadows, the warm, faint lighting. And there, his face still obscured by shadow, sat the artist, painting.
“Another solution?” Madeline asked.
“But she said she could heal her right now,” Mercury said.
“We missed a lot,” Neptune said. “A conversation between them alone.”
“And it will be explained,” said the artist from his studio. “Fae cannot be fully healed, not here. Not according to terms that she will accept.”
“What?” Mercury asked, her voice taut.
“But she just said —” Jupiter started.
“I’ll explain later,” Fae said, and the Sojourner repeated for her. “What’s the other solution?”
“It is a temporary one,” the artist said, “but it will offer you much more freedom than before.”
“I see,” said the Orphan of the Dawn. “I had not considered that. Because it is not true healing, only… a sharing of the weight. And when she was first called…”
“It never would have worked,” the artist said. “But after all she has been through, and all those she has come this way with, there is hope for her. Fae… you cannot be fully healed here. And we are both sorry for that. But you can have control of your body again, and there will be time and freedom to explore possible permanent solutions. Just because the one way of healing you here is unacceptable to you does not mean it is the only way to fully heal you.”
“What kind of solution is it?” Fae asked.
“You can share the weight,” the artist said. “You were alone, but no longer. The transformation the wicked Dragon performed on your body has produced a weight too great for your soul to bear alone. But shared with others, there is hope. You will need friends, loved ones, people you trust and can rely on and confide in. People you have connected with, with whom you share strong bonds.”
People I can trust, rely on, and confide in. Loved ones… strong bonds…
Fae felt a resistance in her heart. She recognized that resistance — a vestige of her older self. When she’d been alone, back in Grimoire, before Mercury found her, before she’d set off on this journey.
She liked being alone. She liked space and solitude. All she’d really had was Madeline, and she’d been starting to repair her relationship with Shana.
But now…
So much has happened.
The Star sisters had seen her through so much. It had all started with Mercury, with that smile, with that easy way she’d walked right up to Fae and invited her to “the adventure of a lifetime.”
Fae could never have imagined just how true of a promise that would be.
They’d explored the Basin of Antiquity, set off to meet the Fates, and escaped danger there. They’d learned all about Collapse, and had returned to rescue and heal the Fates from their illness. Together, they’d braved the Nightmare Road, and Fae would never forget that. She would never forget lying alone, with a broken leg, and nowhere to go…
And then Mercury found her. Bloodied and frightened, Mercury had smiled, and sang, and they’d laughed together. There in the darkness of fear and loneliness, they had found each other and found the way out.
And then, after saving Nocta and having their first run-in with a Dragon, Madeline had joined them. Then Fae had gone with Olivia, rescued her from Wasuryu’s control, and they’d escaped the Dragon’s city together. To the Fault Line Dungeon they’d gone, and healed and rescued Sonya, only to then race to safety and barely escape a flood of living Darkness.
Four had become seven, and they’d gone on to explore so many reaches of the Enchanted Dominion. They’d visited all three Central Locations, met two more Dragons, and finally found the Silver Star Sanctuary.
And all along the way…
Fae had changed.
I never… even realized it.
And the people around her had changed, too.
They’re my friends. My best friends. I…
I love them. So much.
And…
I trust them. I really do.
She realized then that Madeline, Olivia, Sonya, Neptune, Jupiter, and Mercury were standing in front of her, staring at her, waiting.
Mercury was smiling. Always smiling, that perfect smile of hers. She was a beacon of light that had saved Fae from the deepest darkness.
Jupiter had a smile, too, a quirky, goofy smirk that suited her. She bounced with her usual jittery energy, a regular source of entertainment and levity.
Neptune had that reserved, quiet energy that Fae related to so much. She was sensitive and kind, a good listener, and remarkably patient.
Olivia and Sonya… they had Fae’s face, her voice, and yet Fae could see just how different they both were, from each other and from her. The shock of finding doppelgangers had worn off so quickly. And both of them… Fae had helped lead them. It was hard for her to reckon with, but it was true. She’d been helped by so many, but she’d also been able to help others, as amazing as that was.
And there was Madeline. Her oldest, best friend. Their parents didn’t see eye-to-eye, but that had never stopped the girls from connecting, from understanding each other, from spending every chance they could get with each other. Together, they’d created so many wonderful artworks, animations, and stories that were near and dear to Fae’s heart. No one understood her like Madeline.
I trust them. I believe in them.
I love them.
“Will it… hurt?” Fae asked, the idea suddenly occurring to her.
“ ‘Hurt’ is not, perhaps, the right word,” the artist said. “It will be a burden, a weight. While it will not be physically painful, there may be side effects, side effects that we cannot predict. And…”
“It will be uncomfortable,” the Orphan of the Dawn said.
“Uncomfortable?” Jupiter asked.
“What’s a little discomfort if it helps Fae get back in her body?” Mercury asked, grinning.
“Uncomfortable how?” Fae asked.
“You will all be bearing the weight of the same soul,” the Orphan of the Dawn said. “It is only possible because of the bonds you have forged with one another, but it will also make those bonds more real than ever. You will all share a psychic link with one another, the strength of which we cannot predict. But Fae will hear at least some of all of your thoughts, feel at least some of your feelings. And you will all hear and feel the same from her.”
Fae couldn’t respond. Not immediately.
Because she realized now…
Vulnerability.
That’s what this is about. Trust, reliance, bonds, love…
I have to… bare my soul to them. All of them, to a degree that I can’t predict. I have to be willing to let them into my mind and my heart.
That’s what it takes.
For so long… that had been her fear. And once again, that fear resurfaced. Vulnerability. Even with Madeline, it had never been easy.
“It will be uncomfortable.” No kidding. And despite what anyone says, we can’t predict just how much. Because this isn’t something anyone else has ever had with anyone.
And… how long do I have to —
No. I’m asking the wrong questions. Focusing on the wrong things.
It really just comes down to…
She looked at her friends before her, all six of them, waiting and ready.
…how much do I trust them? How willing am I to let them in?
Fae closed her eyes, took a deep breath. She held it for several seconds, then let it out slowly, and opened her eyes.
“Are you okay with this?” she asked, and the Sojourner repeated for her.
“You have to ask?” Mercury asked with a grin.
“It sounds kinda weird, but I’m game,” Jupiter said.
“I’m ready,” Neptune said with a resolute nod.
Olivia and Sonya both looked at each other, then back at Fae, and nodded together. “It’s for you,” Sonya said. “So… yes.”
“I…” Olivia started, hesitating as if with embarrassment. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Always.”
Madeline was smiling, looking not at Fae’s body, but straight at Fae’s soul. Their eyes met, and though Madeline didn’t say a word…
She didn’t have to. Fae understood. And her heart soared.
“Then I accept,” Fae said. To the Sojourner alone, she asked, “This will allow you to reunite with the rest of your soul, right? You won’t be a separate fragment anymore.”
The Sojourner nodded. “Yes. And before I go… thank you, Fae. You are kinder than you realize.”
And then the Sojourner was gone. Not just visibly — Fae felt the absence of her presence. For a moment she felt completely unmoored, drifting, lost in an endless, murky ocean. It lasted for several moments, and those moments stretched further, and fear suddenly gripped Fae.
But golden light danced before her, spread over her. It was soft, gentle, joyful. The darkness, the murkiness, began to fade.
Fae couldn’t see anyone. But she suddenly felt hands — warm, soft hands — grasp hers, and through those hands she felt others.
Six others.
She was held. She was connected. And together, they pulled her out of that murky ocean. They stopped her drifting. The lights grew brighter. The warmth spread through her. Like she’d been asleep, but was now finally waking. Like she’d been dead, but was coming back to life. She had been unable to feel for so long, but now she felt warmth. She’d been unable to smell or taste anything for so long, but now she smelled the sweet fragrance of flowers. She felt the wind gently tousle her hair.
Darkness suddenly filled her world. But it wasn’t a frightful darkness, or a murky darkness. Light danced past a veil, waiting for that veil to lift.
Fae realized what was happening. She realized where she was. A thrill rushed through her. Her heart was beating swiftly, excitement and disbelief and uncertainty mingled together.
And then… finally…
For the first time in too long…
Fae opened, and looked through, her own eyes.