I feel slightly lightheaded after such a kiss- as if it were my first- but I quickly recover once Clifford joins us- never content with being left out for too long.

"Does this mean we get to go home now?" He asks, bouncing foot to foot. "I can't wait to tell Tucker and Otis about this."

"Oh, reality, welcome back I guess."

Truthfully, through this entire journey, I've only thought about how to get home only once. It's easily forgivable seeing how much stress I was under, but still, we have no way back right now and that's a little worrisome. And this is why I have friends like Sephora and Olivos.

I glance between him and Xalale, my brain working. "Yeah, we should be getting back-"

"Do we get to travel through another one of those cool wormhole thingys?"

"I don't know."

He stops bouncing long enough to stare at me with wide, eager eyes and ask-

"Is Axel coming with us?"

I look at Xalale who seems to be waiting for me to decide. As quickly as I want to answer, it isn't as black-and-white as it seems. Xalale is still king and Edalirwen does need a central leadership- we can't just leave the position vacant.

Biting my lip, I try to come up with something on the spot but Sephora- my wonderful deus ex machina- steps in to save me.

"Mallory, I think I can concoct something to get you home but it may take a few hours."

"That's perfect," I breathe. "We need to get everything in order before we go."

"I will be waiting here once I am finished."

"Got it."

This at least buys us some time to mull things over and come up with a feasible solution. Already, my mind is made up, I want Xalale to come home with me, and I'm sure he wants the same. Our only obstacle (right now, at least) is finding a way around this leadership situation.

We exit the throne room and head down the hall, Clifford following closely at our heels while we brainstorm.

"Is there anyone you know who would be capable of running things?" I ask.

Though he appears still in thought, he shakes his head.

"There's not many equipped for such a responsibility."

"Hey, guys," Clifford tries getting our attention from behind, jumping up and down.

We ignore him as we're too deep in thought.

"Isn't there a hierarchy of power?" I question.

"Not an established one."

"Check that off the list then."

"Guys. Hey, guys, I have an idea."

We turn a corner and I shake my head.

"What about someone with noble blood from a higher class family? They're bound to be used to responsibility, right?"

"There are a few elites, but it would be calling for a feud if we elect just one to rule."

Mentally, I pause at that word.

"Elect. Say..."

"Guys, listen! I have an-"

"What about that? An election," I suggest. "The people could vote for which elite family they want since they're more familiar with them."

"Aww, you stole my idea!" Clifford whines continued to be overlooked.

Xalale gives me a slightly skeptical look- not unusual for him.

"That sounds rather idealistic, too idealistic. How would it work."

"Well, news would have to be spread about it, but the idea is that the people pick which candidate they want to run the place and if they don't like them then they're out and a new candidate is selected. It's called democracy where I'm from."

"And it works?"

"Well, there's a lot that goes into it and not everyone is always happy with results, but, yeah, it used to work in the beginning when it was on a smaller scale. I think it would work out fairly well here, though."

He appears to be considering it, still not entirely sold on the foreign concept.

"Who would oversee it?"

"Well, not me," I say. "I can't even legally vote yet back home."

"How do we settle this then?"

Pausing to think, I wrack my brain for a solid answer. Then, it hits me.

"What about Eniorad?"

"Who?"

Clifford brightens at the name. "Hey, I remember him! He was the really nice old guy that did magic and stuff."

"Eniorad is well-respected and would oversee things and make sure it would run effectively. Plus, if Olivos and Sephora helped him, I say Edalirwen would be in pretty good hands."

There's always a sliver of reluctance in his eyes but overall I think I've persuaded him enough.

"Fine, but how would they know what events should and shouldn't occur?"

"I could always write out some basic rules to follow," I suggest, not entirely thrilled to be putting my brain to political use.

I mean, if Jefferson could pen the Declaration in one night then I could write a rough draft of democracy 101 for people to follow.

I don't know what's holding him back completely, but he nods and says, "We should get started then."

So, with Clifford tagging along, we head to his room where I sit down to start writing a rough draft (and let me tell you, emphasis on the rough part). Clifford barely knows the first amendment so he's pretty useless and Xalale mostly has the mindset of an absolute monarch, so neither of them are especially helpful to my cause. I end up scribbling down nearly four full pages (in my best cursive mind you) of guidelines to follow for a, somewhat, successful democratic election. I wish my past English teachers could see the finished product, they could never say boo about any failing grade (not sure my social studies teachers would be blown away though).

With a crampy, locked hand, I set aside the finished work and stand up to stretch.

"Hey, Clifford," I say, wanting to keep the careless boy away from my drying work. "Why don't you go check on Sephora and see if she's almost done."

"Sure!"

Like the ball of energy he is, he bounces up and races out of the room, sure to get lost along the way but I don't care at this point.

Xalale notices that I'm done and comes to join me on the loveseat in front of the unlit fireplace.

"You wrote a lot in such a short amount of time." He comments quietly, staring at the ashes.

"Really?" I cringe, rubbing my raw hand. "Felt like an eternity."

I note his off-balanced silence and turn to address it. He's quiet but not this kind of quiet.

"Everything good?"

Glancing at me briefly, his eyes return to the charred remains. He doesn't reply which, I guess, is better than lying and saying he's fine but it leaves me baffled.

"Is that a 'yes'?"

Sighing, he gets up and approaches the fireplace, resting against the mantle as he looks off in thought.

"Do you remember when you questioned me about what I would be if I weren't a king?"

"I'm going to have to burst his bubble eventually and let him know I mentally discard half the pointless conversations we have."

Regardless of what I'm thinking, I nod slowly, wondering where this is going. "Yeah?"

"You asked if I enjoyed being a king, and truthfully I did in the beginning but then it became mundane and it was nothing like I expected it would be when I was training for the role."

"Understandable."

He's going somewhere with this. Where? I'm not entirely sure yet.

He looks over at me once more. "As much I've grown to despise the role, it is who I am. All my life I have been trained to be nothing more than a king."

I think I see where he's coming from with this and it is truly understandable. It's like being set on a path to become a doctor. You go your whole life through the ups and downs of learning medicine then finally getting into medical school and eventually earning that degree before, at last, landing the job and then...you hate it but do it until your license is stripped from you. If I think about it like that, I can kind of envision the drawback he's having towards this idea.

Standing up as well, I approach him, trying my hardest to give the best damn advice in my life (because so far, all I've given is crap I feel like).

"You're more than a title assigned to you at birth, you know. I didn't like you very much as a king- in fact, I still don't like the tyrant in you- but it wasn't the king in you that made an impact on me, it was just you. I mean, I'm sure there's a part of me you didn't like-"

"The berating part-" He mutters.

"And I wasn't asking which part, though I'll note it anyway. To put it simply, your title, though I get has been with you since birth, isn't who you are; it isn't the best part of you. It's scary letting go but you won't fall without it- I won't let you."

He reflects on that for a moment then releases a sigh.

"Then, I suppose, there's nothing to fear."

"Not a thing."

Since Clifford's probably still skipping through the halls, we devote a few minutes (and by that I mean a minute tops) about what would happen once we return to Cauldron- you know, that xenophobic place.

"Your parents don't know, do they?"

I give an unconcerned shrug. "I'll sort that out."

"Hm."

He doesn't believe me but I will- fingers crossed.

That's about the extent I let that conversation go, as there are other matters at hand. I go over my four-page layout with hopes that it makes sense, and for the most part, it seems to register with him, well enough where I can hand it off to Eniorad without worry of Armageddon happening.

This also might be the perfect time to tell him about the price of getting the Fates' help, but honestly, I don't see how that is such a pressing matter, especially seeing as it's pretty null since I don't expect to come back here after today.

Finally, Clifford comes back but only to tell us that she needs a while longer. That's fine, though, I need time to go have Olivos send for Eniorad.

Clifford begs to go with Olivos to get Eniorad, but I know that would be more of a hassle than we- or Olivos for that matter- need.

Though it won't be the funniest next few hours of our lives sitting around and waiting, I know that things will be in place by the time we have to go.

But, you know what they say. All good things come to those who wait, and so it does.

Sephora comes through, like she always does, and has concocted a solution that will send us home. Olivos returned with Eniorad a few minutes after Sephora calls us back to the throne room.

Although I know the ramifications of my deal with the Fates, it hasn't yet occurred to me that this is my final farewell to my friends. It causes a small lump to form in the back of my throat the more I think about it.

Once we arrive at the throne room, Sephora presents the familiar clear-ish liquid in the vial. "The potion itself is ready for use, but for this particular solution you need to have a guiding source to your destination. So in other words, an item from your universe that will take you home directly."

"An item from home?"

I think about what's on me that I've taken from home, but there's not much. The stuff I did come with, like the clothes I was wearing (save my undergarments) are lost somewhere in this castle and the hair tie that I used wasn't even from home. For a moment, my heart starts to race in cold fear that I don't have anything that can take us home, but Clifford's voice interrupts my worrying.

"Ooh, I have something. Can we use what I have?"

I let out a sigh of relief. This kid is good for something at least.

"Yeah," I nod. "What do you have?"

He pulls out what looks to be a straightened out paper clip. Very small and insignificant but our saving grace right now.

"It's my good luck charm this week. Dean made it look like a key for me."

"That will do," Sephora says as I uncork the vial. "Simply keep hold of the item and make sure you never let go."

Before I can do anything else, I hand off the vial to Xalale then pull Sephora in a hug. Sudden hugs always take her back but she recovers quickly and returns the gesture.

"Have I ever told you how many times you've saved my ass?" I tell her. "Because I'm going to be forever indebted to you for it."

Pulling back to look me in the face, I notice the shimmer in her eyes and can't help but laugh.

"Always the strongest, most practical of us all. You'll always be my fuchsia-haired guardian angel."

She chuckles at that, trying to prevent the tears from overflowing. "I will take that to heart."

Moving past her, I say my goodbyes to Olivos then Eniorad.

"Have more confidence in yourself," I tell Olivos. "You're smart and resourceful."

He nods, allowing me to see a small, genuine smile from him.

"Thank you."

"And watch out for Elle."

His smile grows sheepish but he amiably nods.

It's getting harder the further I go and I ridicule myself for the ever-expanding lump in my throat. I have to get through this without crying, I'm not going against my word on this.

Coxen looks fondly on me as I stand before him.

"What?" I tease. "No arrow pointed at me as I'm about to leave? I say we've made an improvement in our friendship."

He chuckles warmly, coming in for an embrace.

"I'd say we have."

He doesn't hold me long but he does rest a hand on my shoulder as he becomes the older brother that he is.

"You're unique, remember that. I have only one shred of advice for a person like you."

"And what's that?"

"Keep moving."

I can't help but give one last crushing hug to him before letting go.

Honestly, I could make through everyone and keep the faucets from freely flowing but this last goodbye just about makes me break my promise to myself.

But before I can completely lose it, she's already wiping away the stray droplets with her thumb.

"No, no, no, if you start I'll never end," She laughs with tears shining in her eyes. "So don't you dare."

"Oh, Elle," I chuckle myself. "How did I, of all people, end up with a saint like you for a friend?"

"That's too much to say of me," She says bashfully.

"You are something else. You're tough yet gentle, brave yet humble, you've always trusted me from the very start. Why?"

She gives a meek shrug along with a small smile. "You had my trust from the beginning, I can't explain."

So far, I've kept up my end of the bargain and haven't shed a single tear but the longer I look at her the harder it gets, so I finally pull her in for a hug to keep from seeing her pent-up tears.

"Thank you for being my closest friend, Elvina," I can only whisper as my voice has become hoarse with emotion.

"The honor was fully mine, Mallory."

I want to hug every last ounce of endearing friendship I have into her so she'll remember me by it. Finally, we let go but I quickly hold her again to whisper in her ear.

"Consider Valda yours. And take Atlas while you're at it too, he'll need a new master."

She stares wide-eyed at me but nods in understanding. Blinking the dazed look from her eyes, she replies-

"I will. Thank you."

My goodbyes were finished and we could finally return home. Though I wish Shaykh was here right now, I know it would only make keeping an oath of a tearless goodbye that much harder. It's a bittersweet pill that's tasting more bitter than sweet right now, but I know it will pass.

"Are you ready?" I ask the two of them, a little nervous for different reasons but overall set.

"Yup," Clifford sings.

I look to Xalale and take his hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Here's to new beginnings," I say softly.

He runs his thumb over the ring on my finger. "And a past set in place."

I grip the paper clip key as he goes to pour the solution on the ground. He pauses, though, lets go of my hand and unsheathes his sword. I'm confused on what he's planning on doing with it until he strikes into the ground, sealing it there.

"It's served its purpose," He says, more to himself than me.

I stare at that sword in the icy ground as it glints once more in the sunlight. Finally, my attention is brought back as he pours the solution on the ground. The effect is like the gradually increasing fog that brought me back here the second time; it grows thicker and thicker, veiling everything around me from view.

"Clifford, stay close," I tell him, reaching for his hand.

I don't bother closing my eyes like the last time, I want to see the others for as long as I can. As they dissolve into nothing more than whiteness, I can't help myself.

I break my oath with one shed tear- a tear of sorrow and joy.