The large wooden door carved with depictions of Aeor is pulled shut by the hand of a guard, a clicking noise echoing throughout the room on the other side of the room. The room in question is as large as an auditorium along with being a few stories in height with a wraparound balcony around each level. All four walls are embedded with both shelving units, but the one across the door along with the one connected to it are periodically broken apart by cascading windows, thin but as tall as a single floor is. In the few available spaces on the wall, banners of Alfheim or portraits of important scholars hang. The blue-carpeted floor is covered in a maze-like arrangement of shelving units that rise as high as a few stories toward the glass and fire chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. In certain areas, wooden tables and chairs dominate the space with redstone lamps designed to resemble a deer kicking up its front legs blooming from the middle of the table's surface.

Tommy tilts his head upward, craning to see the rooftop above him from his position at the very bottom of the library. He turns very slowly, trying to intake everything around. He looks down as Andor begins talking, his hesitant voice filling the entire library like a singer in an audience hall. "The books are arranged by subject. The fictional books are on the higher floors. Underneath that are the religious texts, followed by academics and magic texts. Finally, the bottom floor is used for historical accounts. The small area over there is full of texts that are about other nations, but the majority of the floor is for accounts regarding Alfheim."

"Would the most ancient records be over here as well?" Tommy asks, stepping closer to the shelves. One great shove would send them toppling over like dominos even though there is plenty of space between each of the shelves. Tommy stretches his arms out, unable to get his fingertips to touch both shelves even as he exerts a fair bit of energy.

"They would be all the way back there, yes, but I fear the books you are looking for are in an area only permitted for high-ranking individuals," Andor's voice slides through the spaces between the books on the other side of the shelf. Tommy finds one of these openings to look through, staring at the elytrian and Niki through the gaps in the books. He smiles at them, softly but assuredly.

"That will be a problem I shall deal with myself should it present itself. For now, I would be most grateful if you would escort my guard to the folklore," Tommy says, shaking his head. He knew going into this that information was probably going to be scarce. Despite this, Tommy knows that he might be able to find at least one clue, no matter how minor it is. Even if what he finds here is useless to him, Tommy knows that Drista and False might have better luck with it since they know things Tommy doesn't. Between the three of them, and perhaps even the fourth Transcendent, the past of this world will be solved and the future of it will be guaranteed.

"I cannot leave you, your highness," Niki tells Tommy, turning around the shelf to look at him. She stands in a regal position, crossing her arms behind her back. She has pulled her pink hair into a ponytail, showing off the gills on her neck and the fin-like appendage around her ears. Tommy stares openly at his guard. He knows that water-based hybrids often awaken their abilities in the depths of water rather than at a certain age like other hybrids so it's perfectly plausible Niki developed hybrid traits now instead of in The Ender Prince, but it still surprises Tommy every time he sees it. He could simply consider it proof that he's closer to defying fate than ever before, but something feels... not quite wrong, but certainly puzzling about it. Tommy feels like he's supposed to remember something every time he looks at Niki.

"We are deep within the royal palace in a heavily guarded library," Tommy responds, gesturing toward some of the entrances on the balconies of the higher floors. At least one guard is standing at every door, faces composed as they stare out apathetically. Each guard is equipped with a weapon, and while the swords and spears are basic in appearance, Tommy can tell that each guard has a different weight, at least in spears. Even without originality, the guards are well-prepared to serve their stations. "Additionally, we won't be far from each other. If a problem does bypass the royal guards, you will hear that struggle long before you hear my fight with the assailants."

"If Your Highness says so," Niki's voice carries a fair amount of skepticism, but even that is overridden by the excitement thrumming through her veins. As she steps away to join Andor at the stairs to the higher floors, Tommy can see a large smile spreading across her face. She moves with a jittery grace, bouncing as she animatedly climbs the stairs behind Andor's more humble motions. The guards give them a cursory glance, but they do not stop either hybrid from ascending to the fiction section.

Tommy, meanwhile, walks toward the back of the shelves on the first floor. He doesn't stop until he finds the section with books so faded with age that he can hardly read the spines. Tommy runs his fingers along these spines, filling the worn leather press against his skin. Tommy stops at random, pulling out a heavy tome. He settles it in his arms, doing his best to flip it open without letting it fall to the ground. Unfortunately, it isn't quite what Tommy was looking for. The pages are filled with star charts, marking what the night sky looked like thousands of years ago. All this serves to do is tell Tommy that the sky wasn't always misty. Something happened a long time ago for it to become unseeable to the normal eyes, and something happened a couple of years ago that made it clear once more. But what could it have been?

As Tommy ponders this question, his fingers slide over to the north star, Tiberius. It hangs in the same place on every chart in the book. Tommy presses his finger into it, willing Tiberius to return to his side. Even if the bird was grouchy all of the time, Tommy didn't mind his presence. He wasn't even all that upset with Tiberius for keeping information from him. It was enough that Tiberius was there because it made Tommy feel more like Zero, made him feel more complete.

Tiberius does not return, though, so Tommy closes the book with more force than necessary. The noise echoes in the library, but it is hardly noticeable against the muffled talking of Andor and Niki several stories higher. Tommy puts the book back on the shelf, walking away when he realizes he's in the astronomy section.

The next section Tommy encounters is about ancient agriculture. Tommy does gain some information from these books. He discovers that Alfheim was once an independent nation before the Antarctic Empire even existed. He learned that there were two other empires that no longer existed in the southern parts of the continent. He even learned about a plague that spread across the entire continent. It hit Alfheim so hard that the scholar who was writing these agricultural reports put in a little anecdote about how they had to finish the book prematurely to spend more time praying to the goddess. They end the anecdote by asking what good prayer will do to a grieving heart. Tommy doesn't know what that means, but he assumes the goddess is the Lady of Sunflowers. He just doesn't know why her heart was grieving and why that made the land infertile.

The next agricultural book in sequential order is from many years later, written by an entirely new scholar. They are more proficient in their writing and less inclined to insert stories about the land and people. Tommy only learns from that book that it took quite some time for the prayers of the people to reach the heart of the goddess. Either she found a reason not to grieve anymore, or she was compelled to keep sapients alive.

The next section is by far the biggest one, and it stretches from the present into the ancient past instead of being only historical. Tommy follows the line of books, picking at some of the earliest records. He finds the names of ancient elven courts. The books always begin by talking about the central monarch, going into their bloodline and childhood achievements. It cuts off at their coronation to explain the individual members of the court, from the prime minister to the influential dukes. The last section of the book is devoted to listing the accomplishments and failures of the monarch during their reign, which often spanned hundreds of years. Whoever is writing these books must have been extremely unbiased because the accounts are very straightforward and often unintentionally unflattering. It is the truth of the matter, not bedazzled by someone who feared for their lives. Tommy wonders who such an individual could be as he skims through the courts of bygone eras.

Tommy comes to the end of the shelf. He lifts the last book off the shelf. Instead of more information about reigning monarchs, this book is talking about religion. Tommy runs his finger along the yellowed pages. After a moment, Tommy discovers that parts of the book are blotted out with black ink. Tommy tries to lift the paper upward, peering at through the light, but he can't figure out what is underneath the paper. All he knows is that Alfheim either had two patrons, or Aeor was extremely close to someone, to the point that they were included in the worship of the Aeor. Tommy doesn't know anything about that, and the book is lackluster in the amount of information it gives. Tommy is left sighing, putting the book back when nothing comes out of it.

He swings around the side, ready to peruse the shelf on the back wall, underneath the second-floor balcony. Instead, Tommy's eyes are immediately fixated on a statue hidden in the very corner of the library. Tommy pushes off the side of the wooden shelf, stepping up to the statue. It is made in the likeness of a deer, carved from black stone with purple veins distributed through the glistening surface. The deer is standing proudly, head lifted towards the heavens. The antlers growing from its head stretch upward, as sharp as knives and thick as tree branches. Despite Aeor covering nearly every surface of Alfheim, Tommy gets a distinct feeling that this statue isn't Aeor. It doesn't look like him, for one thing. Other than being a deer, the statue doesn't resemble any of the other carved depictions of Aeor. The color scheme also doesn't match. Aeor is associated with the colors of Alfheim: cyan, white, and gold. This statue is black and purple. It looks more like Xornoth, which is hilarious because Scott (at least, his non-witch version) looks a lot like Aeor.

Tommy's thoughts are interrupted by the elf himself. Xornoth stands beside Tommy, staring up at the statue with as much fascination as Tommy is. The imperial prince blatantly stares at the king's side profile, and Xorntoh tilts his head to the side to meet Tommy's eyes. Xornoth wears a friendly smile on his face, everything about his demeanor is open and inviting. "I wanted to see what my guests were reading. I have a few recommendations, too, coming from someone who spent much of his youth in this library."

Xornoth looks back at the statue. A new look passes across his face. Tommy catches the beginning of it, but he finds himself staring up at the statue, as well. The deer's eyes are a dark purple color shaped like a flower petal. Tommy feels as if those eyes are staring at the rooftop, sparkling in the candlelight of the chandeliers. Tommy recognizes those eyes. Or maybe he just recognizes the expression. Tommy doesn't know where from, but he has a few ideas.

"What do you think of the statue?" Xornnoth asks, leaning a little closer to Tommy as he whispers. Xornoth straightens when his message is delivered, his smile never wavering.

"I am partial to it. The statue reminds me of the one in Chromia," Tommy answers. He remembers staring up at that statue, too. Tommy wonders what about these statues is grabbing his attention so wholeheartedly. There is nothing unique about these statues even if their craftsmanship is nothing to scoff at. The figures in the statue are recognizable, but Tommy knows they are meant to be Aeor, the patron of Alfheim.

"They were made by the same sculptor," Xornoth nods. The information isn't shocking, but Tommy frowns nonetheless. How could the same sculptor make two statues of Aeor look so different from one another? Was it a stylistic choice? Was the sculptor trying to show off the different sides of their patron?

"The sculptor must have been a genius, then. Not only did they create beautiful statues, but their works were placed in important buildings in both Chromia and Rivendell," Tommy says, ignoring the peculiarities of this statue. Not only does it not resemble Aeor, but it was put in a strange place. Tommy doesn't think many people will get to see this statue since it was placed so deep within the library, hidden in the shadow of the balconies and shelves.

"That may be true, but no one knows who the sculptor was. You see, elves live so long that we often forget that we still die. Because of this, we do not write down any knowledge we possess because we believe that we will pass it along ourselves. The sculptor and anyone who knew them has long since perished, carrying that name to the grave with them," Xornoth explains, gesturing to the statue and the shelves around them. Tommy thought there was a lot of information here, but he supposes that it isn't that much considering how old Alfheim is. The courts were recorded meticulously, but Tommy knows very little about the people living in the elven kingdom or the advances in the kingdom.

"While regrettable, it is not entirely unfortunate. While their name did not persist, one of the sculptor's creations was placed in the royal palace... even if it is hidden away," Tommy murmurs, trying to look on the bright side. If the sculptor is as ancient as Xornoth makes them out to be, Tommy wonders if Zero ever met them. Maybe they were close, or maybe Zero knew of them distantly. Of course, there's a possibility that Zero never met the sculptor. Tommy doesn't know when either individual was alive, after all.

"Do you know why it is here?" Xornoth asks, his voice growing heavier with a solemn expression. Xornoth narrows his eyes at the statue as if scrutinizing the gem-like material.

"I do not... I am not sure what I am meant to say," Tommy frowns, staring at the side of Xornoth's face.

"Say anything as long as you believe it to be true," Xornoth responds.

Tommy turns, looking down at the ground. His eyes burn a hole into the carpet as he tries to answer Xornoth's question. He runs through dozens of answers in his head, each one with varying amounts of veracity to them. In the end, Tommy shrugs to himself. He looks back up at Xornoth's side profile. "The statue does not look like Aeor, so maybe it isn't as valuable as the sculptor's other works."

Xornoth smiles, looking at Tommy from the corner of his eye. "You are quite close. This sculpture is not valuable because it looks like Aeor, yes, but that is mainly because this is not a statue of Aeor."

Tommy frowns. He thought so at first, but he tried convincing himself that it was just a different representation of Aeor because Tommy didn't know who else it could be. Tommy asks, "Who is the statue, then?"

"You know who it is," Xornoth shakes his head, his voice incredibly certain of the baseless accusation he's making.

"I apologize, Your Majesty, but I don't—"

"Look at the statue again. This time, try to remember," Xornoth tells Tommy, lifting a hand to nudge Tommy's head back to the statue. Tommy allows this to happen, keeping his complaints behind pressed lips. He stares at the statue like Xornoth told him to, and he attempts to remember, whatever that means. Tommy scrambles through his memories, searching for the name of another deer that might be important to Alfheim. He tries thinking about what aeons, archons, or gods have a deer as their sacred animal. Unfortunately, but expectedly, Tommy isn't able to think of anything. The only deer he knows is Aeor. No other divine, or not-divine entity, has picked a deer as their sacred animal.

As Tommy is searching through his thoughts, he notices that his vision is beginning to blur from staring for so long. Tommy allows this to happen, wondering if the spottiness of his tired retinas will bring about some clarity. Ironically, they do, just not in the way Tommy expects. His vision blurs so much that Tommy starts seeing somewhere else, and as soon as his sight is compromised, the rest of his senses follow suit.

The sand shifts unstably underneath his boots, half-heartedly keeping him aloft on the cliff. He can hear the ocean crashing relentlessly across the rocky shore. The golden sun beats down harshly across the earth, creating sticky sweat across his skin underneath the armor. The heat, however, predominantly comes from a raging fire that streaks across the sky itself, so impossibly powerful that even the ocean seems to be burning underneath it. The heat from those flames washes across his front side, trapping him in a cocoon of unbearable temperatures.

Tommy stumbles back, shaking his head. He closes his eyes tightly as if that would chase the visions away. As Tommy tries bringing himself back into the present, he catches Xornoth asking him, "Who is the statue?"

Someone floats in the air beside him, hovering a foot off the ground. She wraps her arms around herself, staring apathetically at the ice that begins to spread across the distant shore to combat the fire. He turns to look at her, staring into her brilliant eyes. He asks what is happening. She responds that someone has finally done it.

Tommy puts his hands on his forehead, trying to rub away the headache that is beginning to pound against his skull. Again, Xornoth's voice flickers into his awareness, "Who is the statue?"

The figure on his other side shifts slightly as a new person joins them. He looks over at the new lady. She is staring out at the ice putting out the fire in the distance. Unfortunately, the ocean will never be the same, no matter how many fires are put out. The new lady mournfully tells the group that she has a plan. There is a beat of silence, and she repeats that she has a plan and she needs his help with it.

Tommy crumples to his knees, breathing out heavily. The memory releases him slowly, no longer dragging him back to another period of his life. Tommy stares down at the carpet as the blue color becomes sharper, filling up his vision in the same way that imposing heat did. As Tommy catches his breath, he hears Xornoth's voice one last time, a mere echo in the large halls. "Who is the statue?"

"I didn't kill him," Tommy responds, glaring at Xornoth as if he's expecting the king to take revenge on Tommy for the perceived actions of Zero. Tommy has the distinct feeling that Zero has done a lot of wrong, but he knows as clearly as he knows his heartbeat that Zero was not the one to kill him. Whatever revenge Xornoth wants, he's enacting it on the wrong individual.

"I know you didn't," Xornoth responds sympathetically. He leans down onto one of his knees, putting a hand on his chest.

"How could you possibly know that?" Tommy asks though he wants to know how Xornoth knows about any of this. It happened so long ago, and it's blurry even in Tommy's memories. How could Xornoth know about it when he wasn't alive for it? Any records would be at least secondhand, and even though Tommy can't quite remember who he was with that day, he knows for a fact that none of them would write about their experiences. They especially wouldn't make an account for the elves.

Xornoth sighs. He reaches a hand up to unbutton his jacket. He pulls at the black fabric of the jacket and his undershirt, revealing his collarbone. The skin is pale, accentuating the way Xornoth's veins are glowing a purple-red color. Tommy stares at the veins, his mouth widening in horror. Xornoth looks at Tommy with a surprisingly neutral expression. "The reason I let you and your entourage of humans into Rivendell is because you have defeated the Taint once. I need you to do that again."

Xornoth releases his shirt, letting it cover the veins again. He reaches a hand out to grab Tommy's chin, maintaining eye contact between them. "Now, tell me, who is the statue?"

"Exor," Tommy answers knowingly. Tommy's memories are still incomplete, but he now realizes why he thought all these statues and banners of Aeor were incomplete. It is because they are. All of them are missing Aeor's twin brother, Exor. He was also a deer, but Tommy doesn't remember any more than that. When he tries to recall, a shock of pain registers in his system, and his thoughts are sent hurtling back to his surroundings as if to protect him.

Xornoth nods, standing up. He fixes his outfit, smoothing out the black fabric with his bare hands. Xornoth glances down at Tommy. "It would be wise for you not to tell anyone about this exchange. You know as well as I do that bad things will happen."

Xornoth walks away. Tommy listens to his muffled footsteps on the carpet. Tommy shifts, sitting on his back. He leans against the wall underneath the portrait of an ancient elven king. Tommy brings his knees up to his chest, still struggling to keep his breathing under control. He avoids looking at the statue of Exor, but he can feel those purple eyes staring into him as if ordering Tommy to remember the past.

"Your Highness!" Someone calls. Tommy looks up from where he's buried his face in his knees. Andor rushes over to Tommy's side, his wings flaring out with anxiety. As Andor kneels beside Tommy, trying to get the prince's attention, Tommy wonders if his wings are that expressive. He hasn't let them out in so long, unable to stand the sight of them. Jimmy and Deo have made it abundantly clear that Tommy needs to let them out eventually, but Tommy is going to put off doing that until Hetta comes back. "Are you alright? What happened? Should I call for your guard? Or escort you back to the villa? Do you need some water, or maybe food? I noticed you haven't been eating much, but I didn't even think to bring any snacks—"

"Do you know who that statue is?" Tommy asks, pointing over to the statue. Andor is hesitant to look away from Tommy, but he eventually tears his eyes away from Tommy to look at the statue. Andor frowns, narrowing his purple eyes. Tommy reaches out to grab Andor's hand. The elytrian's eyes snap to Tommy. "Do you know who that statue really is?"

Andor frowns, looking around. He whispers so quietly that Tommy hardly hears him as he says, "Exor."

Tommy nods. Andor sighs in relief. Tommy asks,  "Do you know what happened to Exor?"

"I'm sorry, I don't. I was in Niflheim by the time whatever happened to Exor occurred. All I know is that nobody knows who Exor is anymore," Andor explains, squeezing Tommy's hand. The blonde stares down at their interlocked hands. He didn't think anything of it when he was just trying to get Andor's attention, but the elytra hadn't let go yet. It almost feels like Andor is trying to comfort Tommy. The prince almost snorts at the thought. Andor hardly knows him, so why would he... unless Andor knew Zero somehow.

"Is that really better for everyone?" Tommy asks. Andor's reaction to whispering Exor's name makes Tommy think that it's taboo knowledge. Tommy doesn't understand why. He is certain the information would upset the elves, but why would it drive them insane? What would the elves do with the information that made the heavens want to eradicate it?

"I don't know. I used to think that knowledge was the best way to solve problems. I'm starting to think it might only ever cause them. The Aether sealed away this information for a reason," Andor notes, his voice painfully sorrowful.

"Maybe you're right, but I'm left wondering if the world would have been more prepared if only they knew the truth. What was the point in sealing the knowledge, anyway? At one point, all of this existed. All of this was fact. Anyone could know it back then, so what changed? What suddenly made it incomprehensible?" Tommy asks, finally looking at the statue. His vision doesn't blur this time, thankfully.

"I wish I knew. There are some pieces of information that I'm surprised weren't locked up, yet others that I don't understand why they were. All I know is that the Aether knows what they're doing," Andor responds, looking at the statue, and squeezing Tommy's hand.

"What makes you so sure?" Tommy asks, glancing over at Andor.

"Because—"

Andor's words are cut off as someone approaches them. Tommy looks up at Niki as she rushes over, a frown pulling at her face. "What are you two doing?"

Niki stops when she passes the shelving unit. With the statue in her peripheral, she glances over at it. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes a step toward it, compelled by the same force Tommy was to reach the statue's side. She frowns, whispering sadly to herself, "I wish more people could see this."

Andor looks at Tommy, but the blonde has trouble looking away from Niki. She collects herself, glancing over her shoulder at him. She walks over, reaching a hand out. Tommy takes it absentmindedly. Niki starts pulling, lifting Tommy onto his feet. Andor rushes into a standing position, wings folding against his back. He pulls Tommy's other hand. Through their combined efforts, Tommy is suddenly on his feet. They both release Tommy's hands. Niki steps closer to him, wiping off his clothes with her gloved hands. She frowns as she works, asking, "What happened?"

Tommy shakes his head, deciding not to answer that question when he remembers what Xornoth told him. "We have work to do tomorrow. We should go with False and Deo outside Rivendell to investigate something."

"Tomorrow?" Niki repeats, her eyes widening in surprise.

Tommy raises an eyebrow in confusion. "Yes, tomorrow."

"I have plans tomorrow," Niki tells him, a frown pulling on her face. Tommy thinks back, but he can't recall Niki ever telling him about her plans. Is she upset that Tommy doesn't remember?

"I see. I will go with False and Deo alone, then," Tommy offers.

Niki's frown deepens even more. "Your Highness, you have plans tomorrow."

"I have no such schedule," Tommy argues. He would remember if he had an agenda even if he doesn't remember what Niki's is.

"You are a prince, your highness. You always have a schedule," Niki notes with an unimpressed expression.

Tommy exhales out his nose. "Fine, I have plans tomorrow. I will accomplish whatever it is promptly. The day after, however—"

"— is the festival," Andor finishes, squeezing his fists anxiously at his side. "The activities take all day. You have to participate in everything for the full experience."

"I will participate in the festival. However, the day after that we will be investigating outside of Rivendell, and I will not accept any more arguments to the contrary," Tommy puts his foot down. He doesn't know what's so important about tomorrow, but Tommy knows that he can't weasel his way out of the festival. Even if Xornoth admitted that the festival wasn't the real reason he let the humans in, it is the reason everyone else, including the elves, thinks the humans are there. Tommy has to be an active participant to keep up appearances and forge the connections he told Xornoth's court he was going to make.

Niki and Andor share a look, perhaps mentally checking with each other that the following day is free. When they both nod minutely at each other, they turn back to Tommy. The prince gives them both a half-smile, amused by the little interaction. His smile disappears when he looks at the statue of Exor again. Tommy sighs inwardly, listening to Niki and Andor talk about the fairytales they found as he asks himself, What did you do, Zero?

—

"What are the cardinal sins of erudition?" Ranboo asks, running his fingers along the stamp in the paper that marks why it was disqualified.

"It is a set of laws established by the first sages of Kinoko. They basically outline what topics of research future scholars are not allowed to touch for the sake of their own sanity. In the beginning, these laws were considered warnings at most, but then stories began piling up of people going against the laws and suffering the consequences. If there is one thing scholars understand, it is patterns. If enough people go insane from researching a specific topic, the easiest conclusion is that the topic is the source of their insanity," Olive answers, coming to stand beside Ranboo. They take the paper from him, stretching it out. "This person committed the sin of researching knowledge beyond this world. They were trying to find the edge of the world. It has been known for hundreds of years that the edge of the world is a place of cognitive dissonance. There is even a group of people that keep scholars from reaching the edge, but there will always be those that dare to try."

"Do I have knowledge from beyond this world?" Ranboo looks around at the rest of the shelves, wondering if there is something here about the End.

"No. Even if you remember your past, it doesn't count as knowledge from beyond this world. When it says world, it means dimension. All of the Lost Realms exist within this dimension. Therefore, any knowledge can be shared between the End and the Overworld, so you don't have to worry about it," Olive notes, folding the paper back up. They put it back with the other stack. "Come on, what we're looking for won't be in this section."

—

The sun begins to set in the distance, washing the training ground in a red-orange light. Martha sets her staff down as she takes a break, stretching her arms above her head. She stretches her body, the air fizzling with magic around her. Tommy stares at the staff as he asks, "Will you tell me about your magic?"

Martha brightens, jumping over to Tommy with a large smile crossing her face. "Of course! Pathfinders choose a deity to worship, deriving power from their essence. They are either a paladin, a warrior-type, or they are a mystic, a magic-type. I chose the Path of Ianite. As long as I follow the will of balance, I can cast spells."

"Can you communicate with your patron?" Tommy asks, leaning forward. It would be nice to know why the goddess of balance is doing her best to keep the world in balance. It would be nice to know why none of the gods seem to be doing anything about saving the world.

"Not anymore," Martha admits, her face turning unbearably sad. It is an expression Tommy has seen before. He saw it on all of his family's faces when they learned Wilbur and Shelby had died. It is an expression of mourning, so profound that only someone close to the deceased would wear it.

Tommy laughs wryly. "All of the gods seem to be gone."

"And who's fault is that?" Martha asks. Tommy startles, looking at Martha. She isn't looking at him, though. She doesn't even seem to be talking to him. She's staring out into the distance with the eyes of someone peering deeply into the past.

"Who's fault is it?" Tommy wants to know the answer, even if it hurts.

Martha snaps, looking at Tommy. She frowns, lifting a hand to push a lock of her hair behind her ear. She answers solemnly, "There are three people at fault, only one of them directly."

Martha sighs, pushing away from Tommy. She grabs her staff and starts to walk towards the villa. "I'll be heading in. This conversation has made me too sad."

Tommy remains a moment longer, thinking.

—

"What did you do?"

"Nothing that I regret."