Epilogue
One life cycle later …
A History of the Worlds
Scribed by Cyrus and Emmanuelle Knight
Balance was returned to Minatsol on the same moon-cycle that the waters returned to the Great River, weaving through the mountains from the Southern Ocean to Blesswood. In this moon-cycle, water returned to all the other major waterways of Minatsol. Rivers that had dried up several hundred life-cycles ago were now abundant with the healing waters that eventually spread through the lands of Minatsol from the outermost reaches to the innermost sol cities. Where once there had been desert, forests and lakes soon flourished; trees that had long been extinct sprouted from the ground, and a strange tenor of magic began to hang in the air. This feeling, experienced by all in Minatsol, was later described as “life.” Minatsol had been dying, but no longer. It flourished, as did Topia. The lands remained connected; the waters running between them ensured that the powers of the world remained in balance, each land supporting the other and no one land coveting the energy of life.
The sun-cycle the rivers ran with water again was renamed Life Sun-Cycle: a sun-cycle for celebration and appreciation. A sun-cycle to celebrate equality, to remember those sols and dwellers and gods who worked together to rid the worlds of darkness and death. A sun-cycle to celebrate the children of the gods, who walked from the mortal glass that same sun-cycle, pure of soul and tormented by time. It was a sun-cycle of new beginnings and old endings, all coming together.
* * *
Iset the book down, tears gathering in my eyes as I looked over to Emmy and Cyrus. They were standing before my chair, their expressions nervous.
“Do you like it?” Emmy rushed out. “I mean … I know it’s a little conceited, playing into the whole hero thing, but they’ve been calling us the heroes of Life Sun-Cycle for all this time, it would have been strange to ignore that. It’s what the people have decided we are—”
“This is amazing,” I interrupted, holding up the book to admire the thick leather cover and the gold-embossed title. It was the fanciest book I had ever seen. “Someone is finally recording the full history of the worlds. Thetruth. Everything Staviti has done and lied about. The water. The sacred relationship that Minatsol and Topia have … I’m so proud of you both.”
Cyrus grinned, and Emmy teared up, throwing herself into my arms, though she quickly pulled back at my wince of pain.
“Sorry,” she said, laying a hand over my stomach.
I rubbed my hand over the other side of my swollen belly. “It’s fine. The twins are kicking this sun-cycle. They’re stubborn little assholes, just like their fathers. Desperate to get out and start causing trouble.”
“Are you bad-mouthing our children again?” Coen asked, striding into the room.
“We’ll see how you feel when they’re born and they start kicking you,” I shot back. “One of these little girls isdefinitelya god of Strength or Pain.”
Coen grinned. “I pity her future husband.”
“So do I,” Cyrus muttered dryly. “Dealing with one father-by-marriage is hard enough, but five? And all of them heroes of Life Sun-Cycle? She’ll be lucky if she has any husbands at all.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jakan hasbarelybeen mean to you, Cyrus.”
“I swear he poisoned my wine last night!” he protested.
Emmy and I both snorted. It was true that Jakan and Cyrus didn’t get along very well. He had lost the battle with the Abcurses early on, because they outnumbered him, but Cyrus was an easier target for him to practise his overprotective father act on. And practise it he did.
“Rome!” I called, summoning the largest Abcurse.
He appeared only a fraction of a click later, which didn’t surprise me at all. I assumed that they had all been hiding just outside the door, pretending not to hover. Ever since we had found out that I was pregnant, their protectiveness had grown almost unbearable. I wasn’t allowed anywhere alone anymore. Even when I kicked them out, they only pretended to leave.
Rome scooped me into his arms. “Up to the top?” he asked, and I nodded.
At first, they hadn’t allowed me to walk anywhere, but I quickly whittled them down to an agreement that I liked better. I could walk whenever I wanted, wherever I wanted, but I would allow them to carry me up the slippery stairs to the top of the Peak. We passed out of the sitting room that I had been hiding away in and made our way through one of the larger social areas that we had built into the second level of the mountain. It had been built out over the side of the mountain, with a full wall of glass, rain-washed windows overlooking the ocean. It was wide enough to swallow four average-sized rooms, and had been split up into several lounge areas. Groups of comfortable, wing-backed armchairs were grouped together, knit blankets and plump cushions scattered between them in bright ocean colours. Low, circular tables made of the wood from the nearby forests and higher side tables topped with flourishing plants broke up the groupings of armchairs. A crackling fireplace burned at each end of the giant room, and shelves of books lined the walls either side of the two fireplaces.
The room was mostly empty at this time, apart from the god children that huddled in quiet corners, studying books or playing games. Most of the people were at work, the children in the school on the fifth level down the mountain. Emmy had founded the school herself, though she left the other teachers to attend to each sun-cycles operations now. The others had various jobs around the Peak. We had abolished the class system and replaced it with an entirely new one. A council comprised of gods, dwellers, and sols now ruled over every settlement, and the Peak was no differed. A dweller man by the name of Ged acted as our Leader of Agriculture, and he supervised dwellers and gods alike in their tasks of planting, harvesting, and caring for the animals. Many gods had migrated from Topia after the balance of power was restored, as the servers had all collapsed moments after Staviti’s death, since his influence no longer bound them together. Even the warrior servers that had been sent into Topia through my portals had collapsed, though not before scaring the whole of Topia and turning everyone against Staviti. It was almost lucky for him that he had died the way he had: hypnotised by the slow, peaceful beauty of the souls in the realm of death—his obsession with controlling death had ended up being the one thing he could not control.
And in truth, if he had remained in Topia any longer, the other gods would have hunted him down and he would have met an end much more violent.
I often thought about Staviti as we went about our lives on the Peak, and I thought about him again now as Rome carried me out of the tunnels of the third level and to the mountain stairs, walking past the second level. I couldfeelthe other Abcurses following a short distance behind, trying to hide themselves and be sneaky.
Staviti had not prepared the gods in any way to sustain or support themselves. After the collapse of the servers, they struggled to cook, clean, or even fetch their own water. Many of them came to Minatsol, asking to learn, and were taking in by the sols and dwellers. It no longer seemed to be such a blessing to become a god, as it became apparent that while Staviti had been actively trying to limit ascension, he wasn’t the only restricting factor. Topia itself had also been limiting ascension, only accepting those whose power was strongest, whose energy had the deepest connection to its own power. Maybe in a way to sustain itself as the balance fell away from the worlds.
Either way, the gods were suddenly not as powerful as they used to be. At this point we weren’t sure what that meant. If the waters spread the balance of their energy around, then the gods could very well find themselves able to die and move on to the next world. The future was uncertain, but for the first time it was filled with hope for more than just a select few.
“Willa,” a soft voice called, distracting me.
