After all that time, it took more time for Tidereign to make sense of itself again.

  When the VEILS everywhere settled into a solid and enduring present, they did so haphazardly, with no regard for the lines they blurred nor the irregularities they birthed. The Realm ‘doubled’ in size overNight, leaving wreckages of chaotic combinations everywhere. The duplexes and shifted earth Zacko had fought through during his Rite were nightmare no longer—for they’d become the reality for both halves of a world stumbling its way toward wholeness.

  It’s never pretty, these things. Serac managed to reflect once the worst of it had passed. Hard enough to reconcile two sides of a single soul, let alone a whole Realm. Well, I guess it’s a good thing some of us got to rehearse a little before the real deal.

  Prominent among those with rehearsal experience were a lopsided trinity made up of two Mrigas and one Tiryaga.

  Realgar aft’Enright, having opened his Third Eye, had somehow become bolder and haughtier than ever. His swift and authoritative actions in the Days following the Reunion helped keep the chaos at bay, at least insofar as organizing the Mriga side of things. In order to bridge the divide, however, he needed…

  Jasper aft’Hanafin to step up. The [Watcher] was, as always, charisma incarnate. She descended from her station atop the hill to mingle with deer- and cat-folk alike. Down amidst the wreckage, she charmed, flattered, and occasionally [Balm]’d the people to a state of quasi-serenity. Because sometimes, all you needed to get over a bad day was a good night’s sleep.

  Of course, the transition wasn’t without its fires that needed putting out.

  Day-siders held grudges over the lives ruined by VEIL-crossing Breachspawns (not to mention a certain recent murder spree). Night-siders demanded restitution for the hours stolen by their once invisible neighbors. Serac knew from prior experience that there were no easy answers. Tidereigners everywhere would have to take their time to face and master their demons, both within and without.

  This was also where the third member of the trinity came in. Oriole ere’Quinlan, having relinquished his Wayfaring status mere moments before the fattest Karmic handout in the Realm’s history (something Zacko would forever make fun of Oriole for), nonetheless held fast to his oathbound ways. He followed his nose Day and Night to sniff out trouble, putting out the fires before they could spread in earnest.

  He often brought along two helpers: Caraway who never minced words, and Peridot who knew to soften them when the occasion called for it. Later, it would be said (only half-jokingly) that peace in Tidereign was achieved through annoyance rather than diplomacy.

  And if all else failed—whenever the tension and resentment threatened to boil over—the people could always count on Feverfew ere’Tully. The legend of the tortoiseshell’s hotchpotch only grew and grew after the Reunion, as Mrigas and Tiryagas alike converted to the Church of Good Food and Even Better Stories. Here was at least one soul who never had to worry about her oath for the rest of her Days (and Nights).

  As for the Upheavers, they opted for a more hands-off approach than was typical for them. The damage was done, and on a scale far BIGGER than anyone could’ve imagined. And now, it was time to step back—to let the people find themselves and each other in the ever-churning Gloam.

  So, while the locals dealt with a seismic paradigm shift at home, the outrealmer trio ventured into the hinterlands to farm.

  A side effect of the Reunion was the emergence of a new and persistent Aberrant population. Gloamspawns—umber-hued Revenants of heroes and villains past—spun out of the rippling VEILS to ‘resettle’ their home Realm.

  Some were aggressive by nature and raided the people where they lived. Most, however, seemed content to merely ‘haunt’ places of power. Ruins, caves, and monuments—places that were perhaps tied to the Revenants’ own identities in Kalpas past. There, they quietly waited for any soul foolishly [Ambitious] enough to challenge them in battle.

  Serac, already farthest ahead in her Path, was happy to let Zacko and Renna have most of the fun. They certainly needed this fortuitously reliable source of Karma to reach the Benchmark. Rather conveniently fortuitous, if Serac were to think about it too hard… but she rather suspected real intent behind the phenomenon. Perhaps a certain Immortal had truly taken her advice to heart.

  It was also how she reunited with a friend. Travertine aft’Nankervis just sort of wandered into view one Day, emerging out of a cave Zacko had been looking forward to clearing. Well, Trav and his deer familiars had gotten there first, and this despite his long having met the Karmic Benchmark. After an initial spat and flare of tempers, he even accompanied the Upheavers a while on their farming tour.

  “You ever plan on going back to Dawnwick/Duskpool?” Serac asked him one Night as the party rested by a campfire.

  “One Day, I will,” Trav replied promptly enough. Evidently, he’d already given the subject some thought. “To say my thanks and farewells.”

  Serac let the words hang in the air, alongside the smoke from the campfire. She couldn’t say she was surprised, but a part of her had wondered which side of Trav might have the final say.

  “You’ve decided to ascend.” Statement rather than question. “To leave the herd. Does Realgar know? And… um, Jasper?”

  Trav shook his head, a mostly-a-scowl keeping at bay a barely-a-smile.

  “The herd will go on without me. And should they need a hunter to shepherd them, another will answer the call. That is the way of things, is it not? I understand now, having seen the sheer extent of the universe and the time and space it occupies. Having seen my laughably small place in it. All this”—a wave of the hand to cut through the smoke and point to the SKIES above—“and this too”—a closed fist pressed into his heart—“shall pass. But before they do, I’d like to see more. More herds that might have need for a hunter. More calls for this shepherd to answer.”

  After taking a quick detour, Trav’s hands found their rightful resting places—one atop the bristling head of ORD, the other draped across DLEE’s elegant figure. Seeing this, Serac had to rescind an earlier thought from another time. No, this is Trav’s best version of himself: stalwartly bracing all that he is, and steadfastly marching toward all that he wants to be.

  “Wanna come with?” Serac decided to ask, even though she already knew the answer. “It just so happens we three are about ready to ascend ourselves. Who knows? Maybe, up in Manesfera, there’ll be more cases for us detectives to crack. Hopefully not the murder-y kind.”

  Trav shook his head again, the smile pushing back a little further against the scowl.

  “I thank you for the offer, Upheaver, but I rather find your Path a trifle too rocky for my liking. No, we will tread our own, and at our own pace.”

  The Upheavers parted ways with Trav after both Zacko and Renna made it to KL-90. The trio left Trav to continue on his not-so-solo journey, while they themselves hustled back to Dawnwick/Duskpool one last time—as they’d promised they would.

  The send-off party took place at the Veilwatch Temple, atop a city that had yet to decide on a new name (Serac exercised remarkable self-restraint to stay out of this piece of business).

  It wasn’t a particularly crowded affair, with much of the population largely unaware of the outrealmers’ role in rewriting history. The trio was nevertheless joined by friendly faces they’d gotten to know well on both sides of the VEILS.

  Serac found Realgar standing next to the Hubstation, staring pensively up at a ceiling that had been part-demolished-part-remodeled by the Temple’s joining with Night-side structures. Despite the avant-garde renovations, the fresco of saintly Mrigas remained mostly intact. The locals had even gone to the trouble of painting new elements: mythical figures of Tiryaga lore, including that of a dragon-riding tabbycat in shining armor.

  “I like it!” Serac proclaimed by way of greeting, and with intentionally excessive cheer. “Really ties the whole piece together, don’t you think?”

  The Viceroy scoffed, barely glancing in Serac’s direction.

  “If you’ve come to gloat, Deacon, you’ll not find me in an accommodating mood. I’m already taking too much of my time to attend this frivolity, while there’s still so much left to do in the city.”

  “And here I thought time was something you of all people could never run out of.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Serac elbowed Realgar in the ribs, all the while wearing a shit-eating grin. The Viceroy spared her an irritated glare, only to immediately look away, the better to hide a smile that would’ve reached his eyes if he weren’t careful. He then cleared his throat, the better to launch into another one of his stuffy sermons.

  “I hope you’re happy with yourself, Deacon. None of us have any true idea of what you’ve set in motion. And you’ll forgive me if I rather deem the exchange to be a lopsided one. The Night-siders do have my sympathies for the cruelly truncated existence they’d been eking out before the Reunion. But we of the herd had been doing just fine for ourselves. Whereas now, we’re forced to step with trepidation into an unknowable future.”

  “That’s kind of the point of the future, isn’t it? For it to be unknowable?” Serac teased some more, then turned serious. “Besides, who are you kidding? You Day-siders were not okay before all this happened. Held together by rigid rituals and sheer force of will, maybe, but who knows how long that was gonna last?”

  Realgar scoffed again, though noticeably more subdued.

  “I will admit,” he said after a slight pause, so quietly as though loath to hear his own words, “that I’ve never seen my people more alive. Granted, some of that is merely the byproduct of an… an upheaval to our ways of life, soon to wane as we all settle into new routines. But perhaps… there is something to be said for getting a good Night’s sleep at the end of a long Day.”

  Serac released Realgar from the torture of her presence, but not before elbowing him one more time, grin spread ever wider. She then turned to the Temple’s main floor—really more a rolling hillside than a ‘floor’ since the renovation—to seek out cheerier company for herself.

  The party was already in full swing, stirred around by Zacko and served up by Feverfew. Among the revelers, Serac was especially delighted to spot her favorite quartet in Tidereign. Oriole and Drumlin were locked in a ‘perfectly friendly’ wrestling match, while their respective girlfriends encouraged (berated?) their efforts from the sideline. As Serac watched, cat-rogue and deer-priest fell on top of each other in a heap, to the boisterous uproar of all around.

  Caraway hissed and stamped her feet, deeply unimpressed by Oriole’s performance. Peridot wiped away a tear of uncontrollable laughter. Serac too felt her eyes moisten. She almost wanted to call what she’d just witnessed Tidereign’s best version of itself. She refrained, however, knowing the best was yet to come.

  There was plenty of time for Serac to join in on the ‘frivolities’. First, though, she was still in the mood for one more heart-to-heart.

  The merging of two worlds hadn’t made the climb to the Observatory any easier. Serac panted heavily as she joined Jasper at the top of the Temple.

  The deer woman was as gorgeous under moonlight as she was in the sun, the fact of which was possibly the harshest injustice to come out of the Reunion. Presently, she sat at her usual spot atop the hill, where she watched the Gloam through the eyepiece of a real, physical telescope.

  “I feel cheated, Serac,” Jasper said without taking her eyes off the telescope, seemingly apropos of nothing.

  “Oh yeah? Is everything alright, Jas?” Serac played along, switching her expression to a knowing smirk.

  “I feel cheated of all the time I’ve lost. Time I could’ve spent watching the Night sky. Truly, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  Don’t let anyone else hear you say that, Serac kept to herself, smirk only growing more crooked.

  “If I’m not mistaken, Jas, you sound a little angry. You planning on directing that anger somewhere? Maybe a sternly worded letter to the soul responsible?”

  Jasper looked up from the telescope, at the same time as her shoulders visibly sagged. Her butterflies, a moment ago dancing in high spirits, all returned to their rosy roost, where their WINGS blinked in time with the stars above.

  “The Keeper has passed.”

  The words were softly spoken and so matter-of-fact Serac needed a moment to process them.

  “Are you sure?”

  Jasper nodded. Roses and butterflies nodded with her. She then turned her gaze—more melancholic, yet also more serene than ever—onto her outrealmer friend.

  It was then that Serac truly reckoned with the transient nature of her time in Tidereign. A mere visitor who’d come out of thin air and was about to go just as abruptly, leaving a Realm-ful of people to live with all that had changed and all that yet refused to.

  “I’m… I’m sorry?” Serac said the only thing she could think to say, unsure she even believed her own words.

  Jasper smiled in that way only she could. “To tell the truth, Serac, I feel a certain measure of relief. It’s as if… as if—”

  “A weight’s been lifted off your shoulders?” Serac suggested, along with a ghost of a knowing smirk. “Like you’ve shed yourself of a burden you’ve been carrying all your life, not even knowing where you picked it up in the first place?”

  “You sound as though you’ve had a similar experience.”

  “Are you kidding? If anything, my shoulders are heavier than ever. Zacko will tell you all about it. I think he called it the, uh, sigma gri—”

  “I do think your description apt,” Jasper continued as though she hadn’t heard her counterpart. Serac was grateful for the interruption. “At the very least, I do find myself in a rather… adventurous mood. I feel as though I can walk further than I ever imagined possible… and I’m eager to try.”

  “Well, better get cracking then, homebody. Need I remind you that the only reason you have any Karma at all is because you took part in a cosmic event? If I manage to ascend out of Manesfera before you make it there, I’m gonna be real cross with you, Jas.”

  Even Jasper’s laughter contained a heavy note of melancholy. Serac perhaps understood why. With the Keeper’s passing, Tidereign was now officially between Immortals. She had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn’t stay the case for long.

  “Farewell, Wayfarer,” Jasper said as her butterflies took flight. “And thank you, just this once, for taking such a long detour on your Path.”

  Jasper watched the night sky. Realgar pondered his people’s future. Oriole and Caraway had eyes and noses only for each other. As the final hours in the company of her Tidereigner friends trickled away, Serac found herself reflecting anew on the lessons they’d taught her. A reframing, in fact, of the very theme that defined the Realm and its once veil-bound people.

  Duality? Identity? Principle? Perhaps yes to all such lofty constructs, but the core of it was far simpler. Far more mundane and all the more urgent because of it.

  Above all else, Tidereign had challenged Serac to reckon with time. Time—and how souls chose to spend it as their fallible yet uncompromising selves.

  ***

  The final leg of the journey was also the quietest. The Upheavers retraced their steps across the hinterlands and up through the twice-lit city. No local accompanied them… unless you counted the umber shades that yet stalked Twicereign’s obsidian streets.

  With the Gloaming mists having lifted, the Upheavers no longer needed Oriole’s [Mark] nor Realgar’s [Light] to traverse the Realm’s upper reaches. This would also hold true for any Tidereigner who might yet attempt to ascend. No Keeper nor its favored sons to hold their hands. Forging their own Paths as Wayfarers should.

  Ascension Promontory too had undergone a dramatic change. Gone were the ghosts of the Twice-lit War, perhaps to haunt new proving grounds elsewhere. Gone too was the Realm-sized beast that once hid in the purple fog. Where its V-shaped pillars once stood rushed only the Sanzu waterfall, a conduit from one past to another future.

  “Dunno about you girls,” Zacko put his own spin on the adventure, as befit the occasion, “but I feel more exhausted than at any of the other ascensions.”

  “Only natural, I would think,” Renna made her mellow observation. “We did, in a way, live through a Realm’s entire history.”

  “Not to mention we did it while lugging these around,” Serac added with mock indignation, even as she removed a box-shaped pendant from her neck. Zacko and Renna did the same with theirs. At once, [the Marks of the Oathward/less] faded into fine dust, their efficacy as visas now null and void.

  [Burden: 27/45 -> 0/45]

  Finally, Serac had freed up the capacity to complete her preferred build. With the utmost and eternal gratitude to Pazu and Indira of First Hope, she’d bequeathed [the Frog in the Well] to Zacko. Just as well, for the [Sinner] who occasionally put himself to 1 HP could really do with the passive healing. Meanwhile, Serac herself would wear…

  [Trinket equipped: CHEF’S BEST FRIEND]

  [Trinket equipped: SERAC’S CIRCLET]

  [Burden: 0/45 -> 31/45]

  [Wayfarer Status Effect: BURDENED]

  [REVOLVER Spell secondary transmutation: -> VOIDSHOT]

  The [Circlet] rested easy against her onyx horns—and maybe even a little pretty, as it reflected the Sanzu’s purple sprays. Best part: not even the hint of a headache. No, all it did was make Serac feel powerful and whole.

  “What a difference an ascension can make.” Even Trippy got in on the warm fuzzies. “And I don’t mean that just in your attributes and parameters, Serac.”

  Oh, I know what you mean, Trippy, Serac said, first in her inside voice. She then switched to her outside voice as she added, “You might even say the difference is Night and Day.”

  She thought she heard Trippy groan, but she might well have imagined it. Beside her, Zacko raised an eyebrow.

  “What’s that, Princess?”

  “Nothing. Is Tidereigner joke. Carry on.”

  And carry on they did. Up and up into the unknowable future.

  [Designation: SERAC EDIN—the Upheaver]

  [Karmic Level: 93]

  [Ascension Status: APPROVED]

  Three chapters left in Book 3.

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