Even in victory, their king proclaimed that day forever to be the Day of Great Mourning for all who were taken from Airen, Wodell, the Nadirii, and on their own shores. For the gnomes, the pixies, the sprites, the Zees and the Mystics who were lost in the fight.

And for a man named Tedrey.

It was not only Aramus, but Cassius, Elena, True and Mars who proclaimed in their lands that day would be a day never forgotten.

There would never be a time, for centuries, millennia, when the day Triton rose again and was reunited with his Medusa, that day where so much was lost to cement what had been gained, when mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, teachers and storytellers did not share the tale behind why there was a Day of Great Mourning.

Why, on that day, no one in any land of Triton toiled.

Why, on that day, all remembered the ones who were lost.

Or their own lost mothers.

Or fathers.

Aunts.

And uncles.

Brothers.

Or sisters.

Friends.

And lovers.

And onward from that horrible, victorious day, the people of Mar-el were glad to welcome the people of Airen. Of Firenze. Of Wodell. The Nadirii. The Zees. The charmed folk. Even the Go’Doan.

All of them, welcome to their shores.

For they all had fought as one.

They all had died as one.

And now they all lived as one.

Different countries.

Different borders.

Different gods.

Different cultures.

But brothers and sisters.

All.

Chapter One Hundred & Fifty-Five

155

The Epilogue

Faunus

The Cod’s Eye Chippy, Nautilus

MAR-EL

The tables outside the place that smelt heavy were rickety, the chairs as well.

Thus, when Faunus sat in one with his hand curled around his curious meal, he did not think the thing could bear his weight.

He didn’t care.

The food was wrapped in naught but parchment, which was odd.

He didn’t care about that either.

The outside of the fish was crunchy, the inside flaky, and the chipped, fried potatoes that were seasoned with salt and vinegar that came with it were interesting.

He didn’t taste a thing.

When they were all done, as one, they stood and wandered to a bench by the sea.

Faunus sat.

Saturn sat close to him.

And Moira climbed in Faunus’s lap, lifted her legs to Saturn’s, and rested her head on Faunus’s shoulder.

The breeze blew her hair against his nose and lips.

It was very soft and smelled of roses and the sea.

“How lucky are we?” she whispered.

Faunus did not understand, nor appreciate, the question.

“To be loved like that. To be loved…” her breath hitched, and she had to force out a husky, “like that?” to finish.

He wrapped his arms around her and bent his head, shoving his face in her neck.

His shoulders heaved.

He felt Saturn’s hand wrap around the back of his neck.

And his Moira…

His stellina…