Hints of gray and purple undertones littered the skies, indicating the approach of dusk. In the air was a surface chill accompanied by traces of warmth just beneath. The day seemed to be holding on to the last of its vibrancy for the sake of a great mirth that had taken hold of the Elvenhome.

The Temple of Gayl, once sparsely occupied, now hosted millions of beings – all of whom had come to witness a celebration like never before. From several hundred different kinds of instruments, music belted out in spirit-lifting tunes to compliment the atmosphere; entertainers crowded the massive arena in their numbers to show off skills and talents too daring to watch without feeling a start in one's chest; food and drink went round more than it would in a marketplace, satisfying the belly according to its preference and taste. Storytellers, adventurers, and jokesters riled the immense crowd up with their most hilarious experiences and tales. The sound of a million boisterous laughter in unison could rival an earthquake, or so Waverly imagined.

Whilst seated in a secluded booth originally meant for temple watchmen, she witnessed spectacle after spectacle. In spite of the distance between the tower and the arena, sound and smell could reach her still, making her feel immersed in the celebrations albeit set apart from it. How could she not? She was the main order of the day – she glanced up at the dusky sky – or at least, the evening.

Since before the break of dawn, the jubilations had kickstarted, going from mellow to raucous in only a matter of hours. It was a marvel how human beings could easily sacrifice sleep for merriment yet grumble about work for that same reason. Her eyesight could not do justice to how many Humans were in attendance. She guessed five lucky hundred, maybe more. It was a rare thing to find humans in the Elvenhome in such numbers. She could almost bet each one had been handpicked by the royal household.

Her gaze moved to the Gypsies scattered across a different pew. A smile subconsciously formed on her lips at the sight of them, adorned in colourful gowns and skirts that could put rainbows to shame. What little light from the fading sunset often caught on their bold jewelry and danced in the air for a few minutes as they themselves swayed to the sound of music. Though she could not spot a familiar face amongst the Gypsies, Waverly felt glad that they had come to rejoice with everyone else.

Turning again to the leftward axis of the Temple, a brief burst of laughter escaped her lips at the sight of a Dwarf and an Elf. The former had climbed up to the topmost stone bench and leaped right off, bumping his chest against that of the Elf's in what would seem like a gesture of challenge. Had the Elf not laughed and threw his face away, she would have thought they were both going to break into a fight. However, the Dwarf with a mead in his hand did not look as pleased. He kept wagging his finger at the Elf, which led to the contents of his mug spilling into the hair of an innocent Human child seated on the bench below.

Waverly caught herself shaking her head with a low chuckle as her attention panned to a different section – a raised dais at the opposite end of the temple, sheltered by a beautiful makeshift canopy of spider silk. That area seemed the most unreal of them all because there sat the rulers of the seven realms, with the Elven King in the midst of them. Since spider silk was transparent, she could see the monarchs quite well, just not enough to clearly make out their facial expressions. The length of the special canopy was teeming with bodyguards and royal coterie. What felt even more surreal was the fact that all the Kings and Queens had amassed because of her.

The thought often made her hyperventilate.

She had spent the entirety of yesterday preparing herself, but her nerves were still frying themselves under the glamour of her ceremonial dress. Her comfort people were nowhere within sight, and the last she had seen of her father was during the dressing. Pa had simply hugged her for at least fifteen minutes, then left without a word and a beam in his wake. It was hard to tell if Judson was anywhere within the Temple, reason being that she was not allowed to go in search of him. He would be impossible to miss, even in a crowd of millions. But she had not caught sight of him since she first took her seat in the booth.

She lowered her eyes, finally exhausted from staring at strangers. The diamonds on her dress were the new center of attention. They were scattered around the skirt of her gown, twinkling like a thousand winks down the length of it. Each one, however tiny, seemed to carry its own brilliance, causing natural light to bend around Waverly whenever she moved. The skirt itself came in two lovely shades of purple, one much darker than the other and visible from its opposite splits. Her corset resembled something carved out of bones – though she knew they were not – and held short strings of small, weightless jewels. Courtesy of the Crysotoni, she was told. A v-necked cape was clasped around her shoulders, bearing a specially crafted insignia, and her sleeved arms blended into dark purple gloves.

Overall, she looked very regal, like a princess prepared for either battle or a ferocious ball. Thankfully, her boots gave her a sense of normalcy, though they were styled to match her attire and comfortable enough for her to wiggle her toes around in them.

All her life, Waverly had never really understood what it felt like to feel beautiful or important in fancy clothes. Now, she got a sense of it. She practically glowed from head to. . . well, hem. It settled in the pit of her stomach, like bad food, that she would have to go out before the crowd in her fancy dress and perfect hair. She tried to feel her stomach, but her gloved fingers met a stiff corset.

How convenient, she rolled her eyes.

Lost in anxiety, she did not quite register when someone cleared their throat from the doorway, until the fellow did it again. Much louder this time.

Waverly spun, feeling her clothes do the same thing.

A familiar Elf was at the door. He wore a grin and bowed curtly.

"Aveon." She arose slowly, uncertain whether she had gotten his name right.

His nod was confirmation enough. "In the flesh, Medaré." He held out a hand for her. The other secured his helmet.

"It's been ages!" She laughed and gave his hand a squeeze, staring into his face. Nothing about him appeared different. It was almost as if no time had passed since their last interaction.

"Indeed!" His smile wavered, his eyes assessing her. "It seems those passing years have been more in your favor. You look treacherously flattering!"

She grimaced, "Treacherously?"

His laugh was far from nervous. "In that you would most likely cause the crowd of gentlemen outside to either straighten their backs or bow their sloppy heads."

An easy laugh came out of her. Aveon had done a good job in easing her nerves.

"It's time to get out there." Aveon's voice was low and somewhat comforting.

With a confident nod, she took his arm and let him lead. Outside, a four-wheeled silver chariot was waiting to be pulled by four horses, one being Ilari. Aveon helped her climb into the open back, where she stood on a firm sort of plating.

"Will I ride alone?" She asked Aveon, turning. The noise of the crowd was deafening now, making her nerves ribbon again.

"You will have an infantry behind you." He said, gesturing to the array of Elven and Human soldiers at the ready to march.

Waverly tried not to whimper and kept her focus on the sandy path. It curved into a small road darkened by one of the Temple arches hanging directly overhead before spilling into the arena. She took up the reins to coax the horses and felt startled when they broke into gallops. Lucky enough, she slowed them down before they could cover the distance in half a minute. She needed the intermission to gather herself.

Sooner than she liked, the chariot went under the dark arch and her ears found it hard to adjust to the deafening noise. From over the hubbub, she heard someone make an announcement.

"Hear ye! We welcome into our midst the reason for this great gathering, the one who has united our lands without asking for a reward in return. Rise to your feet and behold in honor, the High-She and Protector of the seven realms, Waverly."

Her name was drowned out, because as if on cue, she emerged out into the temple arena. False light beams, flowers, whistles, trumpets, drums, screams, and shouts all rained down at once, charging the atmosphere so much that she felt incredibly dizzy. Her breath was snatched at the jubilators all around, shaking cymbals, throwing daisies, roses and all kinds of beautiful flowers, and simply jumping up and down, flagging their hands above their heads. Some waved hello, others blew kisses. Everywhere she looked, there was a beam and a scream.

Without realizing it, she broke into the widest smile and waved back in all directions. Before the chariot came to a stop, flowers were piled around her feet and on the horses' backs. Aveon came forward to help her down, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, a carpet of vibrant green grew under her soles. A flood of Derews materialized from the fallen flowers everywhere, using magic to craft a beautiful aisle for her. She watched it unfold in awe as she walked, admiring the spirits that formed a long flank all the way to the royal canopy.

In the distance, she saw a few Dwarves roll back the whole canopy, allowing the crowd see the royals clearer. They walked in unison and stood in a row on the podium. It took standing before them for Waverly to realize that the dais was a few feet off ground level. Aveon helped her up the first step and let her walk the rest of the way alone.

Immediately the Elven King spread his arms out, the noise gradually simmered to softer pitches.

Waverly tried to focus on him alone, but even he was too majestic to look at for long. Both he and his wife stood in the midst of the other rulers. On his right side was Queen Maddei of Crysoton, King Asherah of Bremeton, and King Caccas of Hammiton. To Queen Daya's left was Lord Rihol Ivey, Governor of Dakriton, and Nour Ramas, Regent King of the Gypsies.

Her heart raced under the fixed gaze of all seven sovereigns, resplendent in their rich and lordly attires. She almost wished they would look elsewhere, but they did not.

To her surprise, when the Elven King began to speak, his voice carried far enough.

"It be a great honor for one and all, even of our differences, to meet here tis precious day! We gather now to celebrate remarkable bravery, selflessness, and goodness."

Then, his gaze swept around the crowd, commanding complete silence.

"In our world, the ugly head of darkness lifted; adversity set to tear us brother from brother, sister from sister, wife from husband, mother from child, as it once did in the time of our ancestors. And, to my greatest fear, that adversity neared to rise victorious. Until. . ."

The King's warm eyes found Waverly's again as did his outstretched arm. He smiled between sentences. ". . . a shining star of hope found her way amidst rejection and disregard into the heart of my kingdom. Without need for glory or favor, she set upon her young shoulders the task of defending our realm through blood and sacrifice. Before the face of calamity, her courage proclaimed strength in spirit, and in her journey to rid us of plaguing evil, she offered compassion to all that live and be, setting her name in stone – one kindness after another."

A pair of Derews descended before the King, carrying a large lily pad between them. On the green plant was a circlet that made Waverly gape shamelessly.

This time, the King spoke directly to her, gesturing to his fellow sovereigns. "Of all ye has done and all ye have suffered, we now bear knowledge of. In each his own way, we watched ye navigate tis complex world with grace and a humility unlike any; we have seen ye uphold good, also in the face of opposition that overwhelms. And we have bore testament to the good impact ye brought upon the lives of all, even whom ye know not."

He picked up the circlet. It twinkled in the hue of evening, like a star between his fingers. "In tis way, we hope to show that we bear an everlasting gratitude. These gifts we present will be symbols of our deep respect and admiration, and it be a way to encourage ye to continue to be a light to us. Accept them in goodwill. We offer them in unity."

Waverly lowered to one knee, and the King gently rested the circlet on her hair. She felt a warm breeze wash down on her as it did.

"I name ye Maiér Aléan. Southern Defender. Rise and assume thy honors!"

She obeyed, squaring her shoulders to appear composed even though she was far from it on the inside.

As he stepped back, King Caccas stepped forward. "This was crafted from a special wood in the Forests of Marivaldi, where the trees sing."

He took up her hand and slid a bracelet onto her wrist. It was shaped like a round flute, with small holes and equally small markings. Though it looked quite simple, there was a certain feel to the bracelet that she could not place. Before her mind could process the wonderful gift, Lady Maddei was towering in front of her with a gorgeous smile.

"When the first star fell into Crysoton, we salvaged what we could of its precious metals." She held up a necklace. It looked like water and carried a shine Waverly had seen once – in Selene's crown. "We call it Ïhyar Ynïs -newborn star. Bear it well."

She clasped the jewelry around Waverly's neck, and its light harmonized with the diamonds on her dress. By now, Waverly shone bright enough to be in her own spotlight. With each gift, she felt herself draw closer to tears, yet something deep within her refused to unleash the salty stream just yet.

"A warrior needs her own protection, my girl. I hope this brings you just that." King Asherah was hefting a bronze shield. On its face was a terrible wolf, carved mid-roar.

The surface of the shield was so smooth that Waverly glimpsed her reflection in it. It smelled like polished tree bark, and she secretly loved the smell.

"And a statutory robe to announce her prowess." Governor Rihol added, offering a folded piece of violet fabric. "It was woven partly from godly metal. I am certain you know to use it to serve you well."

She nodded, receiving the pile. It felt like Calaire in its woolen form, plushy and inviting.

"I believe that without you, we would have not had any men left to work the mines where these gems came from." The Gypsie King slid a thin band topped with blue diamonds into her pinky finger.

Through the entire process, she had been deaf to the jubilations, until she turned to face the crowd once more. Such powerful noises could knock down a wall, she thought. Emotions bubbled inside her chest, rising to the surface at speeds she should not have been able to control. Yet she managed to hold back. By now, the night had come, but there were such lovely lights everywhere that she could not help loving the atmosphere. The people were even more beautiful now and she could detect that a majority of them wore lovely face paintings and clothes that shone.

Seeing their happy faces made her feel deep gratitude for them, and she was not very conscious of when she lowered in a bow. Surprisingly, the crowd mirrored her movements in unison, their noises dying out almost at once. From somewhere afar off, soulful singing rose into the air, and the dam finally broke open in Waverly's chest.

Amidst tears, she caught sight of a figure in the midnight sky, flying toward the arena.

"I reckon you did not know you were to be honored alongside someone else." Queen Daya's voice carried a smile.

Waverly turned to the woman, desperate to understand what she meant. However, an answer did not come, because in the next moment, Judson had descended in front of her.

"Jud!" She was breathless. He looked completely different in Elvish clothing.

His wings folded against his back as he began to take the steps up to meet her. Someone had pampered his curls, leaving them bold and neat. The designs on his clothes were just as bold and reminded her quite painfully of one Brijjet had worn long ago.

"Allow me do the honors." A sovereign spoke behind her. The Dakritonian Governor. He came forward and ushered Judson to kneel.

Waverly stepped aside, awed, though not quite in understanding of what was about to happen. In the background, the ethereal singing continued, allowing the Governor's voice float just above it.

"It may not be known to every man or beast that walk the lands of the seven realms, but tonight, I have come to make it known. The Shade who kneels before me, and before all who bear witness here, was once the very vessel used to inflict war and pain upon us by the workings of the Godhead of Chaos within him."

Waverly stole a sideways glance, anticipating a gasp or a shocked reaction from anyone in the crowd. None came. It made her easy. She looked on with a smile.

"And though many have wrongly accused him for evil of which he was the first victim; banished, attacked, and even tried to kill him, he chose to stand above all of it, and went about showing us that what we mistook him for has never been what he truly is. In his brave quest to retrieve our beloved warrior from the very depths of The dreadful Chasma, he rewrote his path and came to the rescue of many. In our native land, we do not count a man's feats, but here we make an exception; for not only did he tread the uncrossable waters of Turmoil and reached the Celestial Mountains. . ."

Then, several gasps came from the crowd, and the Governor paused to allow them process the information. In hindsight, reaching the Celestial Mountains really was a staggering feat. Waverly thought she did not give herself and Judson enough credit for it. That journey could have been the end of them – lost to the ocean; nameless, timeless, and mortals would never know how they met their end.

The thought made her shiver a little, and she felt thankful for the warm velvet hugging her skin.

". . . and returned alive, but he entered the legendary Chasma, rescued our hero, and brought her back safely from the claws of Nys. These and more are noteworthy accomplishments, and it would be dull for the living to shun them. No, we choose to celebrate these silent wonders. Henceforth, I, Governor Rihol Rueth Ivey, decree this man, Judson Malari Ilisar, to be known about the realms as noble and peace loving. And from this moment forward," Rihol gestured to King Javan, who had already stepped forward with his sceptre in hand. "the Elves restore him full citizenship as is owed through his birthright."

The Elven King held his staff forward, and Judson closed his fist around the other end, with a small, yet prolonged bow. This time, there was no wild cheer, just thundering applause like heavy rainfall.

"You're an Elf?!" Waverly could barely hear herself and neither did Judson. The exclamation had been made more in shock than as an actual question.

King Javan was wearing a smile. "Ye belong with us now, and our thanks be with ye for as long as tis realm endure."

When Judson turned, their eyes met, and Waverly put her hands together to applaud him, grinning from ear to ear. He laughed shortly and blew her a kiss.

As the night went on, she finally got to see all her friends. Each one looked spectacular and ceremonial, offering hugs and kisses and well wishes. The night proved even more special when Phyllis whispered exciting news in her ear.

Waverly's eyes almost popped out. "When?"

The She-Elf's giggle was childlike. "In two days, Eden. We'll wed under Cyriñnthr. I'm so happy you get to be there."

"Absolutely! Where is Ceylon?"

Phyllis pointed to the inner halls. "I think he went off with Regent for something important. I'm not sure, but he'll be back soon."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you two!" Waverly clasped both hands under her chin.

"I know you are. Now, you have to promise to let me have a say in what you wear. My grandmother wants to have the honor of sitting at the wheel, and I want her to make yours as well. You wouldn't dare refuse."

"Why would I ever—"

She sensed a presence behind and found Judson there. He stared solemnly, as if he felt sorry for his intrusion.

"May I have a few moments with her?" He requested, his eyes fixed more on Phyllis.

"Don't go too far or you'll miss the Derews' display." She tapped Waverly's arm and offered a warm smile before leaving.

For a few seconds, neither one said a word. Waverly took the time to stare at Judson properly. He looked so handsome that she wanted to laugh and sob. Who knew he would someday wear Elvish robes? She stole a peep at his feet – or Elvish boots; or have his hair so proper and tame, or his eyes so deeply endearing, his skin so. . .

She caught herself with a single blink, feeling like she had been yanked out of a trance. Then, she realized he had said something she missed.

"What?"

He smirked, and all the formality fell away. "I was asking if you would like to come away with me." His arms were already spreading.

She hurried to stand between them before he would withdraw. "Yes."

With his arm firmly secured around her back, he took to the skies. It was bitter cold from the heights, but with how near Judson was, and the comfort of her own clothes, she barely felt the chill. He touched down in a place she doubted was familiar. With how trim the vegetation looked, it resembled a very large garden, with a clear stream in the middle, and a huge flourishing willow just beside it. Minute monoliths were scattered uniformly about the tree, ushering whomever fancied privacy to sit under. Fireflies and the soft light from the moon contributed to the nighttime aesthetic.

Waverly breathed in the cool breeze, appreciating the break from cheers and noise, however pleasant.

"I figured you could use the quiet for a little while." Judson said, both hands tucked behind him. His clothes did a perfect job in outlining his frame. They even made him appear taller.

She sighed in relief, "Thank you! I really did. It started to get. . ."

In the dark, she still caught him lift a knowing eyebrow.

"Suffocating?"

"Yes." She agreed with a nod. "So, tell me about this."

He glanced down as she playfully flicked the loose fabric of his robe. "They call it Narir. Reacceptance. It is supposed to be worn by Elvish sons who were either once lost, rejected, or unaware of their heritage. It symbolizes welcome to Elven kin."

"I don't think I ever knew that." She shook her head, still trying to recall if such knowledge had come her way before.

"I did not either, until I was about to be put in it. You would not guess whose hands gave them to me."

He wore a devious sort of smile, and it threw Waverly off in her attempt to guess. All of him was pleasantly distracting.

"Who did?"

He smacked his lips. "Aurora. She came to wish me well. How ironic! She had wanted more to decapitate me."

"We should be glad then that she's had a change of heart." She cozied up to him and grabbed the loose fabric in the place of a collar. Elves did not have those.

"You are yet to meet, no?" He leaned in tentatively, brushed his nose against hers and whispered, "You are so beautiful right now it makes my heart ache."

Waverly felt no need to say anything at all. Instead, she kissed him, letting her arms cage his neck. A conscious part of her brain registered that she had strained to reach his face even while on her tiptoes. His grip tightened gently and sent tiny chills down her spine in hundreds. Something about the atmosphere was starting to feel different.

She pulled back and assessed him. "Is there another reason why you brought me here?"

"Nothing gets by you, does it?"

"Actually, no." She chuckled.

He took her hand and led them down the stream. It seemed as if they were headed for the tree.

"I wanted to know what we do from here."

The sentence took her by surprise. She looked at him. "What do you mean?"

He did not halt, swinging their hands back and forth. "Well, the way I see it, we have done what we came for and even got more than that. I want to know what decisions we now take concerning us."

Waverly came to a halt, forcing him to do likewise. They were only a few feet from the tree now. She tried to decipher any underlying meaning in his words, but his expression gave away little, if not nothing at all.

"I believe you're being specific about me and you and the relationship we have."

He nodded as if he was careful not to lose his head. "I know there are certain things you want to do first, like being there for your friend's nuptial ceremony. But then, what next? Do you want to go home? Do you want to stay back here?"

She scoffed a little. "I don't know where home is, Jud!"

He suddenly closed the space between them and took up her chin. "I want to build us one. That is what I want. A beautiful cottage by the lake, not too small to make you feel trapped and not too big that you feel lost. A rose garden behind it, and perhaps a field where I can grow us food."

Waverly's face was numb. She was staring as if seeing him for the very first time. And maybe she was. He did not sound anything like the boy she had known all her life.

If there was the tiniest bit of space left between them, he covered it completely. His stare was both penetrating and imploring. She could see the love in them as well as the yearning.

"I want to make you happy for as long as we are together. And I want to do that now. I want us to look ahead, at a brighter horizon, one where we do not have to be separated again. I love you deeply, Waverly, more than you can ever know. I doubt there was ever a day where I did not love you more than the day before. From the moment we met, I knew. I knew it would always be you."

He took up her hands, her very very frail hands. Every word he spoke was weakening her from the inside out. She could barely lift her tongue to speak or make a sound.

"Even now, I still want it to be you." He brought her hand to cup his cheek and kissed the inside of it. "Marry me."

Her lips parted. She could hear her own breathing in the chilly night air. Despite her efforts to say something so as not to leave his words hanging, she could not remember how to speak. Thankfully, Judson filled in the gap. He began to glow right in the face. The light was soft and colorful, looking almost filmy because it came from his skin. The light transferred to her hand and coated it from wrist to fingernails. She took it back to examine and gasped when the light began to absorb around her index alone.

Then, it died off at once, and in its place was a silver band carrying two different gemstones she could not recognize – one dark red, and the other emerald green. The jewelry was unlike anything she ever saw in her lifetime.

"Oh, Jud!" She finally found her voice, though it sounded like a pitiful croak, partly because she had begun to sob. "I will. I will marry you."

She almost crushed him in a hug, and he twirled her in the middle of it.

"This is the most beautiful ring ever! I truly Iove it! Where did you get it?"

He took her hand, which was rid of its glove, and kissed the gemstones. "Courtesy of the Gnomes of Hammiton."

"And you've kept it all this time." Her voice was full of awe and emotion. She was well aware of when he visited Hammiton – in his first year of searching for her. That was a long time ago. It convinced her that regardless of how hopeless it might have seemed then, he had held on to the belief of finding her again.

The realization drove her to tears. Judson held her close and rocked sideways to comfort her, kissing her forehead on occasion.

"I love you too." She sobbed.

"I know. I would be dead otherwise."