CONTENT WARNINGS: major character death, grief.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter will jump around a lot chronologically and between characters as it discusses what the characters got up to over the years after the main story. I will try to make the points where things happen as clear as I can. Also the names of these sort-of-epilogue chapters are a playful little parody on common modern fantasy book titles, so I hope you'll enjoy them, haha.
Violeta
Five years after the Magic Realm was created
"Come on up, everyone, to see the latest marvel in technology - a device that can capture an accurate snapshot of the world within seconds! Behold, the camera! No longer solely a protoype sitting on Lord Volpe's mantelpiece, no, now, an accurate picture of yourself is available for little cost! Come see this amazing technology for yourself!"
"You! You there, yes you, what a lovely lady you are! Why don't you let me take your picture with this fantastic machine? You won't be disappointed - it will capture every little aspect of you in stunning detail!"
"Artists like myself have existed since ancient times doing the exact same as your 'new technology'. What can your little machine do that I can't?"
"Why, my dear, an artist makes mistakes, but a camera does not! It captures a perfect image."
"Where's the fun in a perfect image? Your new technology will not last. People will always prefer paintings, I'm sure. If not, this device is going to put all of us out of a business."
"I'm not so sure! I tell you what - such a lovely subject deserves to see this for free! This may take a little time, but I would be happy to take your picture on this lovely backdrop for free!"
"Hmm...I'll take you up on your offer, then. I haven't seen my own face in almost two-hundred and forty years, you see."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Never mind. I'm in position, so I'm ready whenever you are."
"Excellent! Now, we can't rush perfection..."
* * *
"Now we've done all the processing, let's see the result..."
"OH! Oh, sweet Watcher! What on Earth is - what is this? What are YOU?!"
"Monster! Monster! Leave me be monster!"
"Well. That was rude. Am I really so ugly? Let's see..."
"Ah. Well, that is...I can understand that reaction. How strange. The pictures of the other people looked normal. Perhaps there was an error in his process?"
* * *
If there truly is a Watcher, I hope the Watcher never lets the camera become popular. At least my paintings are in colour. And at least my paintings don't leave their subjects as an incomprehensible blur.
My withered raisin of a heart sank when it didn't work as I thought it would.
The 'picture' was horrifying for the photographer, but for me, it was a rare moment of excitement reduced to smouldering ashes. It's all I've wanted for so many years, to see exactly what I look like. I don't even remember. I get many compliments for my looks, and yet I don't know who is being genuine and who is being nice. Of course Dinah is going to call me beautiful - that's half of what I pay her for! I wanted to ask the art class if they would be willing to try, but I also didn't want to appear vulnerable, so I said nothing to them - though I did mention it to Dinah.
Over the years, I've dedicated so much of my time to violence, even with a few short-lived attempts at peace - but now, with Maddie and her crew of defenders taking care of what I hope is the last of the witchfinders, I realise that now may be the time for me to well and truly live a peaceful life. I could be one of those artists that does nothing but stand outdoors and paint wonderful landscapes...but could I really be that person?
Can I, of all people, truly lead a peaceful life?
My art classes were still going strong, as were the commissions. My latest pieces are portraits of the Four Sages of the Magic Realm, captured in all their mystery and regality.
Some weeks later, I was called into my own classroom by my own students for a 'special surprise' - and, indeed, it was quite the surprise - and special enough to draw the nauseous sensation of emotions from out of me.
They had painted two portraits of me with intricate brushwork, fantastic lighting, and impressive realism. For the first time in over two centuries, I'd seen my own face...if anything, I was rather to know I really did look as intimidating as everyone said.
At the same time, a part of me felt something close to remorse. If I were to seek a peaceful life, I planned to return to Windenburg, where I could be with my son again, and that would mean leaving behind the class. I wasn't so worried about Eli - he and Daniel seem to be getting on fine, and he even has children of his own, a far cry from the shivering wreck I remember from his teenhood.
When I told Áine that I was going to leave and finally settle down into peace, she cackled like a fairytale witch and didn't think I was being at all serious about it, in fact.
I explained to her that I intended to go back to see my son, and tears formed in the corners of her eyes. I thanked her for everything she had done for him, and apologised to her for all I'd done. She thanked me in return, for trying to protect her daughter and for defending the witches.
I told her that I was not the only one who needed to strive to find peace - so did she. She'd been through so much, and had lost so much...and she would only lose more as time went on.
We had spoken of her extended life once again, and she had asked me how I cope with it all. The trouble is, I coped because I did not keep people close...but now, I find myself already missing the people I plan to leave behind. I told her that time was the only true way to heal from anything - no amount of reflection or dwelling or gratitude can fix a broken heart. The time will pass eventually, and that is the only way to heal. Thankfully, she would have plenty of time. I said her heart would mend and break over and over for countless years, and that she had to make the most of every person she would ever meet.
I didn't expect her to throw her arms around me, but I found it within myself to return the favour.
I was going to call her strong - but it is not much of a compliment for a woman as much as it is a necessity. Besides, she can't be strong all of the time. She will have her moments where she feels anything but, especially when she starts to lose everyone she has ever loved... but, whatever happens, I know that Áine has what it takes to do whatever she sets her heart on.
Returning to Windenburg fills me with a calming nostalgia - more accurately, a sensation of dor, a word close to my heart that no Henfordian word could possibly be as powerful as. My distance from this lovely place has made the longing I had for it catch up to me in one go, and at one point I land to sit with my thoughts and feelings for some time. My home is back in Ravenwood, and my home was also in Henford - but my true home, I feel as if it is this place, a land of welcoming, hospitable folk and wondrous landmarks. It was in Oskar.
This was the place where I found safety and acceptance, and where I met my best friend - and my son. This is the best place for me, I think. So many wonderful places to paint, and close to my beloved son. Before I stop off at the bluffs to relax and reflect, I fly straight to the graveyard.
There are fresh flowers here. Someone has been looking after this grave, though I'm not sure who it could be. The candle's flame gently wavers, and I don't take my eyes off of it.
Oskar, we did our part. We did what we could to protect the witches and the people we cared about, and we were an asset to magic-folk. Now I believe it is my time to secure that same kind of peace for myself - the kind I found in you. I'm with you now, and I will always be with you for as long as I exist.
Áine
Twenty years after the Magic Realm was created
We never did think of a better name, but the Magic Realm is now an important hub of arcane education. Most witches and spellcasters at least know of it, and many have enrolled here - some of which live in the dormitory and others travel via glimmerstone.
Most study Practical or Alchemy. Mischief has a fair few casters. Arcane history, arithmetic and literacy are all mandatory. All of us share the teaching of arcane history, including Kat's partner Ellie. Kat and I teach literacy and Owen teaches basic arithmetic alongside his Alchemy classes. The students have to take two days out of the Magic Realm a week, and we suggest they refrain from magic on these days and do things the manual way for the sake of body and mind alike. As for Wild magic, people dabble in it, but no-one dedicates themselves to it. I assume people are on-edge about doing so.
Many of our students learned what they needed to and went off to open businesses or form their own settlements or places of education, but some sadly perished to the witchfinders. Some time, I plan to make a memorial in either Glimmerbrook or the Magic Realm, and I plan to carve the name of as many people as possible who helped magic-folk, whether arcane or mundane. I want history to never forget any of these people, and I want the people of the future to know and respect those who gave them what they will have.
I had spent the past twenty years writing everything I could think of on magic and its history, including about those who greatly assisted us. If I should live more than a century, then every century, I will write a new version with new information. Who knows what might change in the future?
What hasn't changed is the grief I have for Róisín. It has not lessened at all in its severity, and every time I visit her grave, I can still feel the hot, charred flesh under my hand when I placed it against her chest on the stake. Even then, I am still luckier than most...most who lost their family by a burning at the stake never did get the bodies back, having been eaten by animals or simply tossed away. A kind woman some years ago heard about what had happened with my vengeful rampage and had retrieved the body for myself and Reynold.
I look up at the wolf statue, staring into its eyes, imagining it is her looking down upon me. I reach a hand out until I realise what I'm doing. What I would do just to hold her hand once more, just to hear her voice for just a few seconds...
The memories of my parents and the witchfinders still taunt me, day and night. These days, I feel as if I am little more than a hollow shell of the person I once was. All of my focus is upon the Realm these days. I fear if it wanders elsewhere, the horrors of the past will claw their way back in even more than they already do.
"Lovely to see you, Áine. Can I get you anything?"
Her voice sounds so hoarse now. Time has frozen for me, both due to my extended life and due to my mind's inability to move on from the past. The same cannot be said for everyone else. Everyone I love has changed so much - growing wrinkled, grey, hunched over...and in my older brother's case, rather portly.
"Clementia. I hope you are well."
She chuckles. "I'm not sure about well, but I'm plodding along. Would you like some tea or biscuits?"
"I'll be alright. Thank you."
"I haven't seen you for some time."
"No. I've been busy."
"I see. Well, I'm glad you're here. You see, I've been doing some looking back lately, and I found myself thinking about you in particular - you were my first ever friend, Áine. Do you remember?"
My mind is filled with the images of other people's children, casting a thick fog over my memories.
"I'm not sure, Clem. Please, remind me."
"After Róisín was born, you brought her to me...then you told me that Reynold was honest about everything. I panicked, thought you'd hate me and think everything was my fault...I still regret what I said to him that day."
I had no reason to judge Clem negatively back then. Clem had been dealing with so much - it was only human nature that it would eventually reach a point where she released all of the pent-up anger. I notice the scar on her chest; she usually covers them up as much as possible.
"You had every right to be angry at your mistreatment back then, Clem - and you're far too old for regrets, okay? We've all done things we regret. No use beating yourself up now the way you used to back then."
"You are the first woman I ever truly trusted. I don't know if I can ever thank you enough for that, Áine. When we started to become more friendly towards each other, I felt listened to and cared about in a way I never had done before. My mother was only bothered about Father and Reynold - never me. But you were. You changed everything for me. I'm only where I am now because of you."
The emptiness within me is filled with a warmth as she speaks, as if her words are embracing me.
"You can't give me all the credit. You've worked hard all your life, and against multiple odds, to get to where you are. You survived the falling-out with your brother, you survived being sidelined by your parents, you survived the Jacobans - but most importantly, you've thrived. You've changed lives. If anything, I would say you're a large part of the reason that both Julian and Juniper realised the error of their ways." I gesture to the old monastery. "And now you and your brother run the House of Friends."
Her tears glisten in the starlight as she looks upon their graves. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?"
"Indeed. It feels so strange seeing everyone around me grow old..."
"Don't be too envious," Clem replies, laughing. "Come to think of it, it's also been a long time since you and Reynold have last seen each other, yes?"
It has. Trying to balance my social life with the duties of the Realm is proving to be nearly impossible.
"If you get a spare moment, do you think you could check in on him? He's not been doing well lately. He isn't working at the House of Friends currently. If I'm really honest...I'm not sure how much longer he has left."
In all my years since creating the Magic Realm, all I've been able to think about is the inevitable - well, inevitable for most. There will come a day where I lose everyone that I have ever cared about.
I've never found myself prepared for this moment. Even at the chronological age of fifty-six, I don't know if I can face it again - losing my daughter and losing my father feels like enough, but I will have to face it again, and again, and again.
My daughter's grave will not be the only one. I will need to face my former partner's grave, Katlego's, both of my brothers', Clementia's...
The last Reynold and I spoke was last month. We usually only meet up once a month, and he mentioned being a bit under the weather. I had no idea that it was something more serious - if I had done, then I would have visited again. It must have worsened quickly...
"I will try to find some time soon, Clem."
* * *
Owen
Twenty years after the Magic Realm is created
My youngest son, August, is my assistant at the Magic Realm.
He's been practicing his spellwork constantly, trying to summon a Fulguris spell. He's making progress, but he's not progressing as fast as he'd like.
I'm trying to get through to him that comparing himself to his classmates and his siblings won't do him any good, but he's headstrong- even for an Annorin.
I try to instill confidence in him, and yet it always seems to fall flat. He growls to himself, lets off sparks of anger and kicks a stone on the floor into the pink void, where it freezes in time.
"Why?! Why can't I be like them?!"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Simon and Constance always got on fine with magic! So why can't I? I'm in my twenties and I still can't get the knack for it. It's embarassing! I hate being behind everybody else."
"Magic isn't a competition, August. Everyone goes at a different pace - same as everything else. You can't keep comparing yourself to your siblings."
August huffs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I just want to make you proud, Father."
I gesture to him to come towards me.
"You make me proud every single day, son. You don't need to try to make me proud at all. You already do. All four of you do."
"I bet Constance doesn't. She's evil."
"Now, now. Less of that..."
* * *
Once August finishes cleaning out cauldrons, and halfway through my marking written tests, I get a surprise visit from my other three children.
Constance, now a young yet respected surgeon, who learned from - and took over from - her mother. She has a reputation for being stern and a little conceited. No idea where she got that from. She and her younger sister are hoping to find a reliable anaesthesia, but have had no such luck so far. Of course, there is still time. Constance, much like her mother, hopes that surgery will one day be an entirely-painless procedure.
She has little patience for any men in the medical field that attempt to undermine her, and it's been said she's made at least six of them cry with her sharp and witty comebacks. I have no doubt those rumours are true. Some of the things she said to Simon growing up...
Ophelia, who makes alchemical remedies for an apothecary. She's quite fun-loving and doesn't take anything too seriously, and she helps the other students perfect their skills when I am not available. She is not as interested in luxuries as her sister, save for her necklace. After all, something so messy as alchemy and something so precious as expensive clothes are not always a good combination. She tends to be the one who solves the typical sibling squabbles, and I can't imagine it's much fun being the mediator.
Simon, my eldest, who is remarkably like his uncle in his dress sense and unease outside of his work. As well as poring through my many textbooks, Simon has learned well from Dr. Reyes and has become a rather capable physician.
He is currently focused on continuing my studies on my own overcharge sickness, which he has currently named Annorin's Syndrome, the name I was going to give it before I lost my license. I have helped him heavily with his research, and he often berates himself for not having found any ways to slow the effects other than refraining from spellcasting.
So far, not many have come forward with such issues, but I at least know what to look for, as do the other Sages. Simon hopes to study it further, only Reynold has not been affected by it for years and Miss Tilly moved away some time ago to start a family of her own. He hopes to cure it in his lifetime, and I admire his ambition.
"How wonderful to see you all here. I trust all is well?"
"Of course it is," Constance replies, in her usual sharp tone. "But is everything well with you, Father?"
In truth, it isn't.
I even struggle with my cane these days, though Eli was kind enough to fashion me a wheelchair for the worst days. I haven't cast any magic myself for years. The last I remember, even short, simple spells drew blood from my nostrils and made me nearly faint. The students and August step in when needed, and I am forever grateful for their support. Valravn eyes me from the desk.
Be truthful, Owen. Your children worry about you.
"Well, my dear children...No. No, they have not, though your younger brother has helped tremendously."
"I'm glad August has some uses, then."
"Constance!"
Tsuna
Twenty years after the Magic Realm was created
Twenty years for me is the blink of an eye for my fellow Sages - and what a wondrous twenty years they have been in this Heavenly place. The witchfinders are nowhere near the threat they were years ago. Students have flocked to the realm, and I have found it to be a pleasurable experience teaching arcane history and Practical magic. Many of the students take an interest in finding out the magical history of the world outside of Henford, a world they often do not get to explore in as much detail as some of them would like. Many of them were fascinated by the yōkai, and some thought the werewolf paled in comparison to, say, a gashadokuro.
Many dedicate themselves to Practical - some for kind reasons, like wanting to support others...and others because the thought of cleaning a whole room being a hand gesture away is too tempting. Either way, it's surprisingly one of the more popular disciplines with a lot of dedicated casters.
One of my most dedicated students is, surprisingly, Moeti, Katlego's son. He told me that the only reason he learns Practical magic at all is because he is tired of his mother's constant errands she gives him and he wants to make them quicker.
There's a feeling inside of me I cannot quite understand - I want to say it is peace, but I am not entirely sure if that is what it is. Over my time of being at the Magic Realm, I've felt as if I have found something the Great Dragon would approve of. Almost every night since, I have been praying to whoever will listen to have found true inner peace - enough to finally pass on into the next world. I would of course miss my friends and the students, but it is a kind of desperation that has been gnawing away at me since the beginning of all of this. This warm sensation within me has been growing and growing to the point where the joy overwhelms me.
Some months back, Owen Annorin had retired from his position as Sage due to his failing health. Supposedly, it was caused by a sort of disorder in his bodily magic, nothing I had heard of in all my years on this Earth. In his last few months of working at the Magic Realm, he was often confined to a wheelchair that his brother kindly built for him. He was quite a stern fellow at times, but there was a warmth about him, especially around his children.
"The students miss you," Áine says to him. "They tell me to pass on a message that they hope you're doing alright."
It's clear to me that Áine is terrified of losing Katlego and Owen. She has known Kat since she was only twenty, and to lose someone you've loved for so long... I don't know if she's ready.
"I'm not sure if 'alright' is the right word, but it feels strange that my wife and I finally have all the time in the world to spend together, with nothing in our way. That alone is something to be thankful for."
From what I understood from our conversations, Owen and Lydia often felt bad that they never had the time they wanted for the other. At least now both of them have left the world of work, they can now return to being a part of each other's world again.
"Whilst we're on the topic of being thankful - I believe I owe all three of you my eternal gratitude."
It was a little out of nowhere, but the overflowing joy within me had forced me into a somewhat-mortifying position of strong passion and emotion. I may as well let it out.
"First off, Katlego - I still regret having let you down the way I did, taking you in and then telling you to leave. I'm so, so sorry. I appreciate you giving me another chance."
"Likewise," Kat replies. "But you needn't apologise for that. You've apologised enough for it, don't you think? Thank you for saving my life. I have you and Ellie to thank for that."
"And Áine, I have you to thank for making me see that Kat truly did nothing wrong. You are a wonderful friend to us both. And thank you for giving me this incredible opportunity. You've made me realise that we've saved far more witches building up this community than I imagine I ever did killing witchfinders. For over five centuries, I thought that my only way to finding peace was to kill every single witchfinder in Henford, but I realise now that it would have never found me peace. It worked to protect Glimmerbrook, but to protect witches as a whole, we needed a place like this."
"All four of us have done wonders for our kind, and-"
"Tsuna!" Owen's voice startles me. "You're - translucent?"
I can see right through my hand - and right through my entire body, as if I am a-
Is this it? Could this truly be it after five-hundred years? Have I truly found the peace I need to move on?
I laugh to myself, and the laugh grows more and more hearty, taking on a peculiar, airy sound.
"My friends...I think it is time."
"Time? Time for-"
It happens again. My body shifts between corporeal and ghostly, and back to normal again. There's a sensation inside of me I cannot quite accurately describe - five-hundred years of desperation completely replaced by a kind of happiness and reflief no mortal could ever experience.
Áine's eyes widen, and she reaches out her hand. I don't want to do this near where the students can see from the windows. I dart over to the end of the island, where the portal is.
""Tsuna! Please, don't do it! Don't -"
"Áine, you've misunderstood! It's just that I..."
A yellow light begins to burgeon from within, pulsating as my earthly body flickers between living and dead.
"I don't want the students to see."
Already, my voice slips back into something more like the one I spoke with whilst I was alive - soft and welcoming. And that is exactly what I want to be for Áine.
"Tsuna...I don't want you to go."
The distressed child in her heart speaks in place of her.
"I have been here far too long, Áine - but you helped me out of this. You created this Realm. You created me to nurture peace and a strong community over a ridiculous idea driven solely by revenge. I mostly have you and Katlego to thank for this - I am beyond grateful."
She briefly sees my true form and falls back in horror...but it does not last long before returning to my current attire. The knives dissolve from my body, and the blood dries from the white dress. The yellow light is blinding, and a beautiful, divine calm emanates from me.
"Come to me, Áine. There is no need to cry."
She breaks down in tears and falls to her knees, trying to grab my arm as it gradually turns ethereal.
"You did well. You will lose as much as you gain from your long life, but you will meet new people. You will do many more incredible things. I will be keeping an eye on you, do you understand? You will have my blessing."
"Please, Tsuna," Áine replies, her voice muffled by her sniffling. "Please...I don't know what to do. I thought I was prepared for this. I can't lose you. I can't lose Kat, I can't lose Owen, I-"
"Please, Áine, do not see death as loss. See it as a natural part of life. We have a concept back home - mono no aware. A beauty in impermanence. All of the best things are temporary, from the cherry blossom season to the beauty of summer. Some of the most powerful feelings and memories you will have will be of your loved ones who departed. Grief is a part of what makes us human. Without loss, we would not appreciate what we have, and have had."
I see an image before me - a white void, with naught but a torii - a passage from the world of the mundane to the world of the sacred and divine.
"Take care, Áine. Have the faith in yourself that I have in you. Thank you - for everything."
* * *
The torii gate dwarfs me.
At first, there is no sound here. No air, either. A wondrous, soothing nothingness - a welcome break from the chaos of life. I am where I should have been so long ago.
I notice a pile of rocks...and as I grow closer, it appears to be a mountain surrounded by fog.
"What you see there? That is Mt. Komorebi itself, surrounded in dense fog."
That booming voice! Is it-
His aspect descends with a divine grace, and I bow to Him. "Thank you for guiding my way, Kori-Ryūjin. I was misguided, and some good friends helped me realise what I needed to pass on. It is a pleasure to see you again."
"Likewise, Tsuna... I welcome you to tengoku, a place many down on the ground would be envious of. A wondrous place of everlasting peace - what you have spent so long seeking both within yourself and outside of yourself, and what you deserve for all of your patience and hard work."
"I cannot describe how I am feeling right now, Kori-Ryūjin...only that I am thankful beyond a suitably-powerful word for it all."
Kori-Ryūjin circles around, creating a ring of rocks beneath Him. He inhales deeply and unleashes a blast of water into the middle of it until it forms a pool of sorts. His form materialises and I see Him for who He truly is - azure scales, a mane and horns of bronze, and a long and graceful body. He lies upon the rocks and curls His tail around me, as if trying to embrace me.
"It took five hundred long years, but you never gave up on your kind or yourself. You are worth a thousand blessings - and you are due a good long rest, I believe. If you wish, step in."
I doff my clothes as he looks away and I step into the water, which is much hotter than expected.
"I thought you preferred the cold?"
A deep and hearty laugh erupts from his throats. "It would be rather cruel to reward your years of wandering the world with freezing cold, wouldn't it?"
The warm water feels heavenly in itself, and I can already feel the strain of my existence fading away into nothing. It will take me some time to come to terms with all of this...though I wonder if time even exists in this place, at least in the way that I know it.
The Great Dragon swishes His tail and gives me an almost-playful look. "You must have plenty of stories to tell."
Far too many, so many that I do not know where to begin with them since I last saw Him...
"It will take me a while to explain."
He lets out a deep, content growling sound, and leans His chin on His fingers. "Then it is good that we have all the time we could ever want."