Yes! I finally got to write this chapter! I have been waiting for chapters to use this song. ^.^ "Yet" by Switchfoot is just perfect for this. I highly recommend listening before reading further.

Also, go give some love to TheLibrarianGang and Its_Lee_ . They've both been having a rough week and could use some encouragement. Don't worry, this chapter will still be here when you come back to it. :)

The majority of this chapter is based around the book Jordan got from Martha in his S 2 Ep. 107. There are many, many feelz ahead. You have been warned... 

*Waglington's POV*

The world around me was grey and featureless. It reminded me of the spectre dimension, but it was foggy and a little less bright. Something about this place felt vaguely familiar and comforting. How I had gotten here I had no idea, but I decided to walk around while I was here. After taking a few steps, I realized something; I was a wizard, not a cat. I looked down at myself in disbelief. This cannot be real, but then... where am I? I asked myself as I marveled at my hand, turning it over. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to have hands. Am I dead? If so, I thought death would be a lot more... interesting. Maybe this is what happened if a mind came un-tethered from its body. Would that technically make me a ghost? Would I wander here forever?

I kept walking, enjoying the feeling of balancing on two feet again. Time did not seem to exist in this place of eternal fog and twilight. I wandered for what felt like forever, but at the same time it felt like I had only taken a few steps when I heard them. Distant voices echoed through this place. I could not make out what they said, but as I walked, I began to recognize a few of them. If I wasn't mistaken, I could just make out the voice of The Realm's Dianite. He almost sounded... happy, but without malice in his words. Weird. The stranger thing was that he was talking to someone who sounded suspiciously like Donella, and she actually laughed at one point. I stopped to listen to the foreign sound. As I looked around, I noticed that the fog in the direction of their voices had a distinct red tint to it.

I was tempted to go investigate, but I heard another voice I recognized coming from further ahead of me. Martha. My heart leaped at the chance to see her one last time. I broke into a run as I followed the sweet lilt of her voice. It seemed to be growing fainter, though I was running as fast as I could. No, no, no! I have to talk to her! I actually wished for a moment that I was a cat again; I could run far faster as one. I suddenly tripped and landed on all fours. I looked down and saw paws instead of hands. "What?!" I stared at the furry appendages in shock. I tentatively thought about being a wizard once more and changed back. "Okay, that works." I shrugged and shifted back to being a cat, bolting after Martha's fading voice.

I could picture her already: Her eyes the vibrant color of irises were set in her alabaster face like crown jewels. Her peach lips curled into the amused grin I imagined she would have when she heard I'd turned myself into a cat—one of my least favorite animals. (Blame Wag, not me. I love cats. :3) A few delicate laugh lines danced around her mouth and eyes. Her light lavender hair cascaded in waves down her back in sharp contrast to her black wool cloak. Her cloak was clasped at the nape of her neck by a gold broach holding a single large amethyst; its soft purple complemented her eyes nicely. Her choice of purple slate riding jacket and pants always amused me. I'd never seen her ride a horse, but she kept insisting she would have to take me riding one day. Her grey riding boots and black gloves completed her favorite outfit.

Martha's voice started rising in volume again when I heard another join hers. The Australian accent gave him away; Steve was in this place too. I did not stumble in my pace, though my heart sank, hearing him with Martha. They had been sweethearts for over a decade before Martha ended things; they had even been engaged a few months ago. I ran into the increasingly purple fog (apparently I was not colorblind as a cat in this place) until I could just make them out. The space they inhabited had sprouted a forest, and the two sat on a fallen log amidst the trees. Martha was just as I remembered her, and Steve wore his customary straw hat, plaid shirt, well-worn jeans, and tan work boots. Suddenly, it clicked. This was the meeting place wizards back in the Realm used to communicate long distance. How did I get here? I don't have my powers, and she obviously didn't call me.

I tried to move closer to hide behind one of the large oak trees, but I ran face first into an invisible barrier at the forest's edge. Ow...I don't remember that being a thing last time I was here. Then again, I've never been on the outside of a meeting before. I rubbed my nose with a paw and looked up to see if they had noticed me. They had not. Martha had been looking around the area as they talked and looked right through me at one point as if I weren't there. Maybe they can't see out here from in there. In that case... I returned to my wizard form and straightened my robes, wondering if they could hear what they couldn't see. I wanted to at least try, but my greeting died in my throat when I saw Steve take Martha's hand. She did not pull away. We were still together when last I saw her, yet there she was looking tenderly at Steve. My heart sank further than the Interloper as I listened in on their conversation in silence. I had a feeling I didn't want to hear this, but my curiosity and my hope of talking to Martha held me in place.

"Steve, when are you coming home? So much has happened since you left Dagrun. I have so much to tell you," Martha shook her head and sighed.

"Well, I'm 'ere now, Martha. Why don't you tell me?" Steve gently prodded, leaning forward to show she had his full attention. If Martha had called him here, it must be something important.

Martha smiled and took a deep breath. "Steve, please forgive me." Steve opened his mouth to object, but Martha spoke over him, "Hear me out. I've wanted to say this for a long time, and I want to say it before I change my mind—again." Steve closed his mouth and nodded for her to continue, looking at her curiously. I was intrigued too. Martha was a perfect angel; what could she have possibly done that she would need forgiveness for?

Martha continued, gazing at the leaf litter and sparse grass under the trees rather than Steve, "I know I have made many mistakes, more than I'd care to admit. So many of them were regarding us," she said sadly while squeezing Steve's hand. "The time you left for a whole month without telling me where you were going or when to expect you back, I thought I could wait for you. As the days dragged by, it was harder and harder for me to believe you would ever come back to me and stay. By the time a month had rolled around, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I wrote you a letter telling you as much. That was my worst mistake; I was too afraid of my own mortality to risk endless years waiting. I was a fool for surrendering to fear and giving up." Martha regrets leaving Steve? Does that mean she regrets us as well? The thought came unbidden, but I couldn't dismiss it—or the pain it brought—once there.

"I've been in love with you for a long time, Steve, ever since I was a princess visiting Urulu with my family and you were the rascal chasing someone through town for stealing your dad's apples."

Steve laughed. "I remember that. You tripped the hooligan for me as he ran past. I gave him a right rumble." Steve beamed at the memory.

Martha chuckled quietly. "You sure did. I've loved you ever since without your permission. I want the chance to show you why you should love me too. Like gravel, no matter how hard I try, I fall for you time and time again. Ianite may be gone now," Martha turned to see Steve's shocked expression. He had known when he left that Ianite had not been feeling well, but, like the rest of us, he never expected her to die. He could plainly hear the finality in Martha's words and did not question the unthinkable event. "But a new goddess has risen from the ashes: me."

If Steve had been shocked before, I didn't even know what to call the expression he wore now. It would have been quite comical if it didn't feel like my heart was being put through an ore grinder. "I know you are loyal to Dianite, and I won't try to sway you from that. Your stubborn loyalty is one of the things I love about you, but I must ask. If Spark could love Ianite with all his heart, could you too love a goddess?" Martha hesitantly glanced at Steve before releasing his hand and standing to pace the length of the log he sat on. Her footfalls were accompanied by the crisp crunch of dried leaves under the grey leather of her boots.

"When you left Dagrun this last time, Dianite let slip that you didn't plan on returning. That ate at me. I knew I was the reason you left for good, and I felt so guilty. That town was your home more than mine. I tried pushing those thoughts aside and tried to be happy, but it feels like there's been a hole in my life ever since you left. It took me a while to figure it out, but I know what I want now," She stopped and faced Steve. "I won't let the fear of mortality hold me back anymore. I want to be by your side and you to be by mine. I should have gone with you on that trip. I want to go with you on the next one."

Martha smiled before starting to pace again. "My life up to now has been nothing but "shoulds" and "coulds", things I should have done or could have done, but through my weakness, chose not to do. I am done with standing on the sidelines. I love..." Martha turned to see Steve flickering in and out of focus. "Steve!"

The farmer was looking around frantically, not focusing on Martha, but something else we couldn't see. Something is interfering with Martha's magic. That shouldn't be possible; she's a goddess! Steve stood up and reached for a sword that wasn't there. His image faded out entirely when he yelled and grabbed his side, falling backwards. That doesn't bode well... "Steve!" Martha called, running to where he had fallen. The forest started slowly dissolving as Martha tried to re-contact her... love.

I stood frozen in place, the reality of what had just passed between Martha and Steve finally sinking in. This heartache was far worse than what I had felt remembering Latreia. I had only known her for one day; Martha and I had gotten to know and love each other for months. I stifled a sob with the sleeve of my robe and let tears flow down my cheeks for the first time since the day I thought Matt would die, the day I got the power that sabotaged my mind and heart.

I turned away from Martha and started walking blindly back the way I'd come, wondering how I had not noticed Martha was unhappy the past few weeks. Had she been that good at hiding it, or had I been so inattentive that I missed what was painfully obvious? Did it really take her that long to figure out what she wanted, or was she leading me on the whole time? Hadn't she said that she loved me? How could she choose him after all the times he took her for granted and was absent when she needed him? Did I really drive her back to him? Why am I so horrible at love? And why does it hurt so badly?! A fresh round of sobs shook my hooded frame as I stopped walking. Where was there to walk to anyways? I could get away from Martha, but I couldn't get away from this torturous heartache.

When I wiped the tears from my eyes, I saw familiar scenery emerging from the fog at my feet. I was standing at the picnic area outside Martha's house. We had spent a lot of time here. The shared moments and memories only opened the raw wound in my chest further. "No, I take it back! I don't want to talk to Martha anymore!" I screamed at whoever had brought me here. Just put me out of my misery. I quickly wiped more tears from my eyes and pulled my hood up further over my grief-stricken face, not wanting Martha's last memory of me to be one of breaking my heart. If the guilt of chasing Steve away had eaten at her, I didn't want to give her one more thing to feel guilty about. She beat herself up enough already. She deserved to be happy, even if it was without me in the picture.

The scenery finished chasing the fog away; I could see Dagrun's fallen skyline and Martha's beautiful house before me. I had been proud of her building that herself. She was quite good, maybe even better than me. The magnificent woman materialized by her front door—which still had the note she had left tacked to it. Martha looked around in confusion, tear trails making her makeup run. She was still distraught over Steve. Hold it together, Wag. I steadied myself against the picnic table and took a deep breath before calling to her in a forced cheery tone, "Martha! I'm over here. It's Wag!" My voice cracked slightly on the last part, but she didn't seem to notice. I couldn't bring myself to call her "darling" like I usually did.

Martha turned, surprised to see me. She ran over to me, hysterical. "Waggles," The pet name stung more than an arrow to the heart, but it was her turn to be inattentive. She didn't see me flinch under my hood. "Thank all the gods you're here! I was just checking in on Steve, and something interrupted us. It blocked my magic; I don't know how! But I know he's hurt, and now I can't reach him at all." She started to shake as more tears rose in her eyes. She fell into my arms, which automatically wrapped around her in a protective hug despite my emotional turmoil. "Please, Waggles, I know you two don't get along, but I need your help to find him. He's in trouble."

It broke what was left of my heart to see her so upset. I took a deep breath to steel myself for what I knew I would do. Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a good guy. "My goddess, if I live long enough, I will find Steve and bring him home," I said resolutely, as I stroked her hair, knowing it would be my last time whether I lived or not. I would try to live to see her happy. I would just have to deal with my heart until I had my body and magic back and the athar took care of it again. Maybe not feeling was better than this. "But if I fade before then, please forgive me for not loving you like I should have, like you deserved," I asked softly, moving my right hand to brush a tear from her cheek.

She looked up at me with a blank expression. "Fade? What are you talking about?"

"I've gotten myself into trouble, Martha," I decided not to mention that I suspected Jordan's involvement, since I really had no proof. That boy carries enough guilt—earned or not—to sink a galleon without me helping. "I don't know how long I have, but you haven't lost me yet. I'm trying to hold on, but I don't think the others will find me in time."

I looked from her to fallen Dagrun, not wanting my resolve and composure to crumble until I said everything I needed to. I didn't know how much time I had here, but something told me it wasn't a lot. Martha thankfully seemed to sense my urgency and did not interrupt. "If I don't make it, and they find my body, tell my brothers to take my powers to stabilize theirs. If one of them has to pay the price to do it—they'll know what that means—tell them it's not worth it. Tell Jordan and Tucker I apologize for killing them and sending them to the Nether. Mianite's Floodgates are in my golden bag of holding, if I still have it on me when they find me. They'll need those to revive Dianite. Tell everyone thank you for being such great friends, even when I didn't act like one." My voice cracked again, and I swallowed back looming tears.

I wracked my brain to see if there was anything else I needed to say. Only one other thing came to mind as I felt myself growing weaker. "Martha, thank you for believing in me," I said, finally turning back to look at her in my arms. The scenery behind her was fading and collapsing in on us. The connection would not hold much longer now.

"Wag..." Martha started to raise one hand to my face. I panicked, fearing the dampness lingering there would give away my shattered heart. I quickly changed into a cat; cats can't cry. I looked up at her, gazing into her blue violet eyes. After looking stunned and confused for a moment, she proceeded, "I should be thanking you for believing in me, not the other way around. I will find you."

I looked down to see myself fading along with the picnic table we stood next to. I looked back up at the woman who my heart still belonged to, though it was crushed. I spoke clearly, despite my now being a cat, "Martha, take it from me. Don't make promises you can't keep."   

It will probably be a week again before I can update with the next chapter. I have to stop procrastinating and do a bunch of microscope work for my one class. I have to count and i.d. 500 white blood cells before Tuesday. -_- Yay? Anyways, I only have a month left of that class! :D Hope you are all hanging in there with school work and having a good semester. :)