Weeks passed before the Elvenhome finally shed the last of its multitude of guests. Waverly watched them all leave batch by batch, until she could hear the birds clearly again. Mornings had been extra loud in the Elvenhome, which was strange, because of the insane amount of visitors. Not that she hated their presence. She just missed the serene quiet that so accentuated the realm.

She stood alone in the balcony of the Almshouse, admiring the distant blue-green sea. Some extra floors had been added to the building for the sake of security. It acted as more of a fortress than an inn now. A presently empty one.

Sentries were on the ground floor, and she could pick up on their near silent conversation. When she first came to seek solitude there, the Elves had worn somewhat sad looks. Apparently, her closest friends were not the only ones crestfallen by her inevitable departure.

It had been much easier to watch other people bid the Elvenhome goodbye, until her turn came.

She did feel thankful for her friends' decision to be absent, instead choosing to go about the day as they normally would after she had said a final goodbye to every one.

Now, she needed the stillness – to let herself float.

Since the last day of celebrations, Waverly felt more at peace with herself than ever. She was alive and well again, her nightmares had reduced to nothing but momentary blurs, and the Nurses declared her completely hale even though they did not understand how. Even she had the belief that her mother's touch might have contributed to her accelerated healing. Selene did not need to will such things before they happened, especially not on her own child. She had to have known what Waverly was passing through. It almost seemed like goddess had used Hekate's attack as a perfect excuse.

Be that as it may, it brought about good results in the end.

She breathed in the scent of flowers and salty sea, touching the cold stone barricade that shielded her from a nasty drop. At the sight of the metal bridge going over the sea, old memories stirred in the back of her mind. It felt like only yesterday when she crossed the same bridge with her Tyro-in-arms, uncertain and half prepared, to face the dark army.

So much had been at stake then.

She was so young, so vulnerable. Yet she had answered the call of war.

Perhaps her recent honors were just now reminding her of how much of herself she sacrificed, quite carelessly, to save the things she loved most.

A little smile upturned her lips.

The very thing that would become her husband soon.

Her eyes tore from the forest ahead and landed on the ring around her right index, amber and emerald stones gleaming under natural daylight. She twitched the finger, feeling a certain tightness in her stomach, but in a good way. It was as if she could not contain her own excitement.

Happiness, actually. She was so happy it could make her cry.

Cradling her fist so she could stare at the gemstones better, she brought it to her lips, staring into nothing. A lifetime with the one person who made her feel whole was more than what she had asked for. Before now, she felt that royal gifts and exuberant feasts were exaggerated rewards for her contribution to the war, but after Judson's proposal, she began to understand the depth of each honor.

What would have happened if she did nothing about the Unrest? If she had run in the other direction?

He made her feel deserving of every single praise she received no matter the medium by which it was given.

And he was the greatest gift of them all.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Waverly looked over her shoulder at Diarmaid. He leaned against the threshold, hair loose and straight around his shoulders. Her eyebrows arched at his attire – hunting clothes.

He caught the question in her eyes before she could speak it. "Ceylon and I are going out to hunt for game. Good distraction."

She gestured with her head for him to join her. When he settled against the rampart, she interlocked their fingers and rested against his shoulder.

For a peaceful length of time, they stayed that way – in perfect silence. Waverly tried not to allow herself think of their parting as a sad thing. She would see him again for as many times as she desired to.

"One way or another," he broke the silence softly. "I'm gonna beat him at deer hunting."

She faced him, but her gaze was pinned on the smooth stone. "You're the wittiest hunter of your time. He doesn't stand a chance."

"Unless he's befriended all the deers, then he'd tell them I'm an enemy."

She rubbed his forearm placatingly. "I think Phyllis is the only one that actually likes Ceylon, so you don't have to worry."

This time, their avoidant eyes finally locked. His were full of controlled amusement. "I can't believe you just took sides with me. Twice."

She heaved a sigh, and he took it as a prompt to stand up straight. Then he glanced at her ring. "Why don't you hold the ceremony here before you go? You stayed for Olwirien's."

Waverly beamed, recalling the event that was still quite fresh in her mind. Eden had never looked more paradisiacal and her friend had been the loveliest Elf in that moment.

"I know. But it would mean more back home."

He nodded, as if asking her to not say more. "It makes me happy that you are happy. I know for certain he's the best person to leave you with. Just promise me one thing."

"Name it."

He smirked and glanced sideways for a moment, as if to think of his next words. "I'll see you again."

She engulfed him in a hug. "I promise. I'll always come back."

When he released her, he gestured to the corridor. "He's waiting for you."

Three horses stood by the entrance to building, ladened with travel supplies. Ilari was the only one unmounted. The other two carried Judson and Pa. The former alighted his horse and came forward to receive Waverly as she climbed down the steps.

"Pa, I thought you already left!" She exclaimed, gaping at her father. He arrived with the King's party, so she figured he would leave with the same.

"He thought it best to go with us." Judson answered instead.

Following the revelation that he was Half-Elf, she often secretly searched for evidence in his face. Yet nothing proved that. His Elven traits were as nonexistent as his Shade ones. It nestled in her chest like a vice that she could not trace his looks to any particular origin, except his mother.

"Medaré," An Elf soldier piped. "Are you sure you would not have escorts? There are many willing to see to it that you reach Bremeton safely."

"I'm very grateful for the concern and volunteers, but we'll fare well on our journey. Besides, I happen to have reinforcement already."

"Which is?"

Mounting Ilari, she let out a sharp whistle.

Chestnut showed up on the roof of the Almshouse and howled to signify his position. Everyone glanced up in unison as the wolf chose that moment to leap off, engorging as he reached the ground, which trembled under his enormous weight.

"Holy Gayl!"

"It's the battle wolf!"

Amidst their gasps of surprise and awe, Judson hugged Diarmaid and received a brotherly pat before climbing onto his own horse.

"Travel safe, you all." Diarmaid waved.

Waverly gave him one last reassuring nod before turning her attention to the smoothened path ahead. HalfHyde's horse took the lead whilst she rode side by side with Judson, Chestnut in the rear.

A few things made her journey different this time.

For one, she was on the road with her father.

In spite of his earlier days scouting the realms for threats, HalfHyde was a sedentary Elf. Though the fact never limited his mentality, he preferred to sit and learn. Perhaps because he felt too old to peregrinate. Hilariously, knowledge always seemed to find him – in one way or another. He was a Scribe, and now a Lower Lord. The center of information. Heralds would bring reports to him from all over. Except for actual experience, he would possess facts, and that was enough for him.

Waverly studied him atop his horse, his posture rigid and alert, like a captain general. Typical. He was once a soldier.

During Phyllis's union ceremony, she took note of something that had gone over her head for years. Pa's eyes were not black. They were charcoal gray. She recalled Resli having the same shade of gray eyes, but with flecks of red, like a berry dipped in ashes. Pa's were deeper such that the dark shade was more overpowering, but under certain lighting, it was obviously gray.

The fact that she never really noticed it or long believed his eyes were obsidian was a funny yet halting realization – she stopped giving her father attention a long time ago.

He was aging slowly – a respectful nod to his half Elven nature – but she could spot traces of age in the way his skin crinkled behind his eyes when he would squint or smile; the peeking white in his beard and center of his hair, the amount of care he gave to picking up delicate things, the bag of skin under his eyelids that testified to the strain he had put on them for years, and the decline of speed in his walk.

Had he been fully Elven, it would take another few hundred years for signs of old age to begin to show. And from the look of it, his Dwarven genes were more dominant.

Waverly's eyes stayed on Pa each time he moved, nitpicking for the slightest show of strain or effort. In the past, she had wanted more to run away from him and seek out adventure because all he ever did was restrain her. Now, she could not help but wonder how things would have turned out if she stayed home and grew up under him. Since that chance was taken away, partly by her own naivete, she desired to make the most of the time they had now.

As he emptied raw oats into a bowl to feed the horses, she reached for the plate before he could move.

"I'll do it, Pa." She offered with a smile, studying his face closely. Most of his face remained smooth, until he smiled back and the crinkles showed. She almost frowned. They appeared more like tired crinkles.

After the horses were fed and watered, she retired to hers and Judson's tent. Pa had one all to himself. The skies were darkening, hinting at a possible downpour, a clear sign that they were out of the Elvenhome.

"What is it?" Judson touched her elbow to get her attention.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the tent across theirs. "I have a feeling Pa is sick."

She was not sure, but if stress had begun to alter her father's physical features so strongly, then it could take a sure path to illness.

Judson threw a glance at the tent, as if he could see HalfHyde through the opaque fabric. A chilly wind blew between them, ruffling his hair.

"He will not let me observe him."

She tilted, more to shield her eyes from the violent wind. "You noticed?"

He nodded slowly, unbothered by the gathering gale. Any stronger and their tent would be swept off the ground. It had already begun to tremble.

Waverly noticed the rising tremor and leaned in to grab his arms, glancing above at the structure. "Jud?"

He stroked her neck with a smirk. "Do not worry, the winds will not take the tents away."

Because he was the one that set them both up, she chose to take his word for it and relaxed.

"I will talk to him so he can let you take vitals, just to be sure. I'm worried."

"Well, alright, but do not let him know you are, else he will pretend to be fine. He does not want you to worry too much about him. Now, come! It's going to get colder. Have a blanket."

The next few days were uneventful, and the sense of awkwardness Waverly feared would emerge from traveling with her father and betrothed was nonexistent.

Pa and Judson got along so well it was almost unbelievable to witness.

When they stopped for another rest, she approached her father with a mixture Judson made for him.

The Half-Elf took one knowing look at the cup and let out a grunt. "Come to cosset me to drink basil water, no?"

Waverly heaved a long sigh and knelt beside him. She placed the cup down and readjusted, making sure the proximity allowed their arms brush with every movement. Then she took the cup and cradled it between her hands, minty steam filling her nostrils.

"It will help you relax."

HalfHyde looked grim for a moment. "Have I impressed on ye that I feel uneasy?"

She removed a hand from the hot cup to let cool air soothe her burning skin. "I can tell you're ill, Pa."

He chuckled, deeply, it shook his entire torso. "I am well in form and mind, child. Perhaps in need of sleep, but I am well."

"Why do you not sleep? Does something bother you?" This time, she pressed into him. They were seated on the high grassy bank of a stream. Paths were cut out on either sides of the crossing, which meant settlements were close by. In no time, they would enter most of Bremeton.

He made a sound between a moan and a whine. "Ye knows well in mind of the position ye father occupies. As Lower Lord, it be expected of me to prove I am equipped to rise to what occasion there may be. If tis should steal from me some hours of sleep, then so be it."

Waverly tilted her head, unable to fully buy into his explanation. But she knew for a fact that Pa would never lie to her. He could keep things a secret, but he would not tell her a lie.

"I choose to believe you then," she sighed, leaning against him. "But I will only let it go if you drink the tea."

His arm moved to indicate he had looked down at her. She returned the stare and held the cup to him.

With an obvious begrudging groan, he collected it. "It stirs wonder in me that ye should now act my caretaker." His features suddenly softened. "Gives me an assurance that ye would make a fine mother in time."

Waverly's eyes slightly widened and color crept up her cheeks.

She brushed a nonexistent strand of hair to hide the blush. "Pa!"

HalfHyde chuckled and it made his tea bubble. "Have ye given thought to where ye hopes to live with the Shade and how ye wants the ceremony organized?"

She tucked her hands into her thighs, heaving a sigh. "We want to build by our former house near the lake. And Judson has not told me yet what he plans for our marriage. I suspect he has something in mind, yet he will not tell me."

When HalfHyde lowered the cup, Waverly was glad to see it emptied. She took it from him and offered him a small towel to wipe his lips.

"I have seen tremendous growth and maturity in the young man. He holds his bearings for one his age, though I will not make a fool of myself to think a number of lived years defines wisdom. One can live a thousand and remain softheaded. Let him nurture his ideas. They will come to light soon, and I am certain it is bound to draw a smile out of ye."

She burst into light-hearted laughter even though Pa's words made her blush more. It was satisfying that he knew how happy Judson made her, whether or not Judson was actively trying to.

The idea of them getting along still took a while to settle because as the journey continued, she saw them interact more fluidly, like father and son.

And oftentimes, Judson made HalfHyde show all his teeth.

From a distance, it always seemed as though they were both being furtive about something – something they were carefully keeping from her. It made her itch with curiosity, but she dared not question, thinking it would be better to keep her nose out as long as their sneaky conversations did not produce bad results or amount to a quarrel.

Those days, it would seem, were long gone.

At long last, they galloped into Lake Borough with the setting sun behind and a cloudless blue sky ahead. The people they rode past, Waverly noticed, would have a startling moment of realization and gape at them, but only after they were too far away.

The sight was hilarious, to say the least, and repeated many times before they arrived HalfHyde's home.

"Ye both must come in for a well suited rest." He instructed, glancing behind briefly. "There are chambers within to accommodate, until ye begins to go about important affairs."

Waverly shared a glance with Judson. She did not want to argue with her father. They were, in fact, in need of proper rest. However, the look of eagerness on Judson's face matched her own.

The prolonged silence made HalfHyde turn his horse around. He studied their expressions for a moment, looking as if he would disapprove. Instead, he caved with a sigh.

"As ye wish." He gestured to the road. "But promise ye would return before the roads get dark."

"You have my word." Judson replied with an assuring grimace, though it seemed more as if he just passed across a hidden message.

"Very well." HalfHyde steered his horse away and then he was gone.

"Race you." Waverly spurred Ilari before Judson could realize what she meant and was off, leaving giggles in her wake.

"Unfair! You did not give me a heads up." Judson's amused voice caught up with her despite the whipping wind.

"What did you think 'race you' meant?" She rode past the last stall in the market and came into the company of tall bushes.

"I was hardly paying attention."

His voice sounded near, which meant there was not much distance between them.

"Not my fault. Keep your ears open next time." She stole a glance behind and saw that he was riding at full speed, only about a stone throwaway from Ilari's flank. Thankfully, the horse could hold her own, in part for being a Chryselephant.

The roads looked different now, and realizing she could not recognize the way to the lake distracted Waverly long enough for Judson to ride past with incredible speed and a triumphant laugh.

She rolled her eyes, "Show off."

Ilari followed Judson's trail at a steady trot and came to a stop where he was tying his horse to a tree.

Waverly gaped at the amount of tall bushes they were encamped by, although they were sparse enough to see the gleaming waters up ahead.

"When was the last time anyone's been here?" She whispered, going to take his outstretched hand after he had secured Ilari as well. The weather here was much colder, and she tugged on her cloak for comfort.

Judson led them through the bushes. "Pa told me that after the attack, large portions of the Borough were razed to the ground. However, when he returned from the Grand Ale, reconstruction was near complete, save for these parts. They were shod off."

Waverly glanced at him as they broke through the last line of vegetation. "Why?"

He shrugged a little. "Security reasons. Remember it was through here the first attack breeched the realm."

Her breath caught at how different the lake and its surroundings looked now. A hand flew to her mouth at the sight of her childhood home in a huge pile of moss covered wreckage. Judson's treehouse, which was miraculously still standing, was now ambushed by so much greenery it resembled the world's tallest garden.

An oddity caught her attention quick.

"What happened to the stones?"

For many reasons, the state of the environment made her sad. Those giant colored stones that acted as a bridge were all gone, replaced by white foamy ripples from the wind.

Nearly half of her memories revolved around the stones.

As a child, they had given her comfort and the feeling that she could walk on water. She remembered countless instances where she knelt on them to peer into the depths, and how many instances she had toppled over. Pa had considered teaching her balance for the sake of preventing similar accidents, which spurred further training and eventually kickstarted her sparring lessons.

With her old house fallen to the ground, she could see the distant mountains and trees beyond, and the massive expanse of land she had once believed was too small to live in.

Judson heaved a sigh. "I do not know for certain, but I think they sank."

She inadvertently shook her head, turning to him. "No, that's not possible. My mother put those stones there."

His eyebrows twitched, but did not lift. "She told you that?"

"No. I saw it a long time ago. In a dream."

"And does their sudden disappearance hint at an understatement?"

She stared at him once, unable to reconcile the bubbling response in her brain to the tip of her tongue. Instead, she fell silent for a time.

Then, looking at both sides of the waters with concern, she frowned mildly. "Wait, how do we get across?"

It took a few seconds for her to realize the solution.

"We could also build a canoe, if you'd like that." Judson beamed, scooping her up with ease.

"Why a canoe?"

He made a face. "Well, I will not always be available to fly you across. I could be in the market or something."

On the other side, the winds were stronger and wrestled with her clothes as she walked. Waverly went to inspect her old home. Pa's house. To her surprise, she felt deeply agonized by the little that was left of what it used to be.

"Do you think those timbers are useful?"

Her eyes darted from torn fabric to splintered wood to bent iron – all in a chaotic jumble. Pa had built his home with his own hands long before she came along as a baby. Seeing its ruins now made her feel distraught in ways she had not felt in quite a long time.

Judson bent forward to retrieve a long piece of wood, a window frame, and examined it. "If you want pieces of your old home in your new one, then that we shall do."

"Will you. . . construct on this same spot?"

She could see he was studying her face. He tossed the frame gently and dusted his hands, then looked around with a long sigh.

"Well," He placed both hands on his hip. An unusual thing. "I doubt there's anywhere else we could build a home, unless you want to live on the mountain peak again."

Waverly scoffed and gave his arm a slight punch. "When do we start?"

He looked genuinely surprised. "On the mountain peak?"

She laughed and began to walk toward his treehouse. "No, Jud."

The structure was intact. Not a single thing out of place. It stirred discomfort in Waverly's gut. Not so deep down, she knew why his home had remained untouched but did not want to voice it.

"I can see I have a lot of work to do." Judson whispered behind her ear. "The bushes and weed—"

"Leave them." She heard herself say, though why she wanted that was unclear even to her. She turned to wrap her arms around his neck. "Let us focus only on our home. The environment can stay as it is."

Judson's eyes were studious again, but he nodded almost immediately. "Alright then."

After she drew him into a hug, he pulled her back. "I have something to show you."

The trees far behind Pa's ruins were a different sort – coarse and gangly, tall enough to provide shade. They were mixed in with the pines, and it annoyed Waverly how often a slim branch would grab a portion of her hair or cloak.

"These were put here, weren't they?" She groaned, yanking her sleeve free.

Branches subtly moved out of her way when she caught up with Judson.

"Most certainly. The dark army camped in these woods for weeks before making their attack on the Borough. The trees here had been spies. Their lifelines were tied to the Emperor, but the moment his link with me was broken. . ."

They emerged into a thriving hollow.

". . . they all withered and died."

Waverly glanced around, unsure about how the environment made her feel. A hum in the air made her gasp for breath, as if she were underwater. But there was not a single drop in sight.

The trees grew in a most spectacular fashion, as if their branches reached out to tightly hug the nearest one, and totally blocked out the light of day. A small dry bed of sand divided both sides of the hollow, snaking down as far as one's eyes could follow.

"That is not road." Waverly thought out loud and suddenly noticed Judson going forward to kneel before the bank.

She watched in mild confusion as he scooped up a fistful of sand and said in a whisper that she could still hear.

"Asdhatar, tfeor."¹

He let the sands rain from his enclosed fist and a startling gurgle sounded as they fell.

Waverly jumped back, with a hand on her chest, and gaped as waters gushed right out of the earth and became a stream. Her gawking worsened when a humanoid form rose out of the rushing water, like a violent clash of waves that should not have been possible in a simple stream.

Judson lowered his head before the being, but Waverly could not bring herself to move.

"Is that. . ." She gulped down her suspicion. It could not be Tumut.

"No," Judson chuckled, turning to extend his hand to her. "Meet an old friend. This is Lord Aster, god of the streams and brother to Jordan."

¹Asdhatar tfeor — Aster, come forth