Bidant stepped off the train, his deep green robes billowing in the steam. Face full of smiles, he relished in his small victory. His plan had worked better than he had hoped. For the longest time, he had been trying to come up with a way to approach Aurelia, and the second he overheard Eliza and Kesi talking about their plan for Kesi to steal the gold from her mother, he felt like it was a gift that had dropped into his lap. Not that he had approved of what they were doing. Had it been under any other circumstances, he would have barged right in and scolded the two for their nefarious plot. However, the small window of opportunity had been so graciously given to him, and he knew, at least on his part of the deed, two wrongs could be righted with one act.

From there, everything else just fell into place. Aurelia's rush to make the train, his people filling up the car so the seat next to him was the only one open, and with Aurelia's openness to share in the first place, he considered the whole thing more fate than good planning. The second he placed the two gold coins in her hand, he knew she sensed something awry, but he didn't worry about it. Instead, he happily sat back down as a middle-aged human filled Aurelia's empty seat.

Now, having made the round trip back from Swampstone, Bidant found himself in a good mood. Suddenly, he found a desire to visit his late mate and he started to hum a small tune he had sung long ago, which quicken with each step. Knowing Darby, his assistant, would be waiting for him, he looked around. Instead of seeing the cheerful halfling that was twice the woman despite her small size, he caught sight of Eliza, Kesi, and a number of others boarding the train.

"Oh Kesi," he sighed. "Not you too."

For the longest time, Eliza had been Bidant's favorite granddaughter. At a young age, her mother and father had perished in an airship accident making Bidant her only living relative. She might have grown up in the orphanage, but Bidant doted on her as if she were his own daughter. However, as life went on, she started to rebel against the orphanage and Bidant's teachings. 

At first, it came with talks of a goddess, but Eliza figured out pretty quickly that Bidant didn't approve. Having known the true purpose of Liberation Day, Bidant was instantly suspicious of any talk of a deity, but the minute Eliza dropped it, he let it go. Still, her behavior continued to change. Gone was the sweet innocent girl who owned his heart, replaced with a rebellious spirit emerging in audacious outfits, secret meetings, and suspected trysts.

Bidant was largely living in denial when it came to Eliza. He could have easily known the truth. His assistant had her eyes and ears everywhere, not only around the orphanage but also in the town. If he wanted to know, all he had to do was ask. Instead, he deliberately shielded himself from the facts; perhaps because he couldn't bear to confront the changed reality in Eliza.

"Good trip, sir?" came a feminine voice.

Bidant smiled. With grace, he turned, as if his thoughts had summoned her into existence. Standing at a modest three and a half feet tall was Darby, who exuded a warmth that matched her hazel eyes. Chestnut curls cascaded artfully around her face, and a smattering of freckles adorned her sun-kissed complexion. With a petite stature; her presence conveyed both friendliness and a general happiness to see him.

"It could be better," he said, gesturing to his backside. Without looking, Darby nodded her head and moved to hook her arms into his. He needed the help, but he appreciated the gesture to take them away from Eliza.

"I could put some people on it if you'd like," Darby responded, guiding him off the platform. Subtly she directed him toward the orphanage, but he pulled south, prompting her immediate correction.

"Do you think it would help?" he asked hopefully.

"That depends," said Darby, now leading him in the opposite direction of the orphanage. It was one of the things he loved about Darby; she always knew what he wanted with barely the slightest hint.

"Do you want the truth, or do you want to continue to play this game of ours where I lie to you and you pretend I'm being honest?"

The fact that Darby had even worded it that way told Bidant the answer, which is why he suspected she did it. Instead, he let out a long sigh and asked the question he needed to know.

"And Ms. Kesi?"

At first, Darby didn't say anything. Instead, she tightened her grip around his arm and continued to lead him down the winding path that would take them out of the city. Bidant could tell his closest confident was taking the time to carefully choose her words. When she finally answered, her response caught him off guard. 

"A war wages inside Ms. Kesi. She constantly pushes back against Eliza's influence, but her good nature and kind heart make her vulnerable to change. I suspect it's why Eliza is in love with her in the first place."

"What?" Bidant sputtered. He had known about the growing influence between the two, but never would he have guessed his great -granddaughter and the great-granddaughter of one of his closest friends would have been in love. In fact, from what he understood of the Warbol line, it should have been impossible.

"They love each other?"

"No," responded Darby, shaking her head. "As far as I can tell, it's just Eliza. So far, Kesi has resisted her advances. It seems to be the only line she draws when it comes to your great-granddaughter. Poor Eliza."

Bidant stopped and looked at Darby in disbelief. "Poor Eliza?"

"It's got to be hard," Darby responded as she tilted up her head to his. Her chestnut curls bounced with affection. However, a nuanced sorrow lingered in her hazel eyes which got caught in the cadence of her voice. "Loving something you can't have. It's as if fate is playing some cruel trick on you, and youth hasn't given you the wisdom to deal with it."

Another game; another truth; another lie, Bidant thought, holding her gaze. Darby had given him signals before, but there was something different about this time. At first, he couldn't place it, but the longer she held her gaze, the word dribbled off the tip of his mind: acceptance. It was her truth. She had finally come to know nothing would ever happen between them. 

It's better this way, he lied to himself. 

"Young love," he commented, trying to offer her comfort. "In trying to understand the greatest gift we can have on this plane of existence; we sometimes rush to unlock its secrets. Love is a journey, not a race. Perhaps Eliza would do well to remember it."

Darby looked down and slowly released her grip. For a moment, Bidant thought she might let go altogether, but instead, the clamminess of her hand to fell into his. It was a strange feeling and quite unprofessional, but Bidant allowed it to happen. It wasn't until they reached the cemetery did she finally let it go.

"The carpenter said the statue is ready," Darby responded as she opened the gate for him. "He will have it delivered to the celebration tomorrow, right before your speech. Do I need to call on the elder Warbol, or would you like to do that yourself?"

"Perhaps it would be best if you took Aurelia shopping for a new outfit. After tomorrow, people are going to know who she is. It will be good for her to make a lasting impression," he suggested, stepping through.

"I could raid Eliza's closet," Darby teased with a playful twinkle in her hazel eyes. "Now that would make a lasting impression."

"Yes, I'm sure she would love that. Be a dear and take the whole thing over," he chuckled, making his way through the tombstones. It was good to know that even if Darby was upset about what had transpired between the two of them, he knew she would be okay. Had he been younger, he might have considered life after his mate, but especially now, when he wasn't even sure he'd live out the week, he wouldn't do that to another Saintian.

As Bidant walked, he heard the gate shut behind him, its creaking echoing through the solemn stillness of the graveyard. Briefly, he wondered if Darby would have waited for him, but he seriously doubted it. Darby could read him like an open book, and both of them knew it. She had always respected his time in the graveyard, having bothered to wait only after their first trip. Just to be sure, he turned, catching her backside, but she must have felt his gaze on her. Without turning back, she waved her hand in the air, shooing him away. Once again, he chuckled to himself then took the well-familiar path towards his family's mausoleum.

The mausoleum was by far the biggest of the tombs. Dozens of crypts of his younglings, his youngling's younglings, and their youngling younglings lined both sides of the halls. While his younglings grew to be a ripe old age, none of them had inherited the elven longevity, having taken on their mother's human lifespan. It was perhaps the saddest part of being an elf—watching everyone you know and love die long before ever being given a chance. The weight of centuries pressed on him as he walked past the crypt that housed Eliza's parents. He gave a small nod, lightly touching them before settling on a bench in front of the largest tomb. There, he read the words he had read a thousand times over.

Here lies Gamma; wife to Bidant.

"Love covers a multitude of iniquities."

You're always teaching me, he thought to himself. How many times did I need to hear those words? You were so much better than I and yet life took you first. Strong and silent you always teased me, but without you, I find myself weak and clouded in confusion. Would you forgive me if I fail?

Again, it was a question he already knew the answer to. Gamma was patient. Gamma was kind. Gamma was the perfect teacher. He knew her words, specifically laid out in her final instructions, were more for him than anyone else. It was her way of saying, "I freely chosen, freely given. Make sure you forgive our family."

Too embarrassed to express what he was truly thinking, Bidant apologized and held out his hand as if Gamma was going to grasp it. "I'm sorry I'm late, my love. Time got away from me."

For a moment, he imagined Gamma gently squeezing it, just as Darby had done before. Despite the heat of the day, there was a coolness in the mausoleum that left him feeling wanted. "Time gets away from us all," he felt her reply. "You more than most."

Bidant nodded and closed his eyes. He could feel grief and regret welling up inside him. Despite himself crying in this very spot many times before, he felt ashamed. "Maybe not too much longer. If only I had your strength."

Gamma's hand tightened, then leaned her head into his. Carefully, he rested his own on top of hers. "That would be too bad," Gamma commented. "My savior, still saving the world. We'll be together soon enough. Then, we will have all of eternity. For now, you got a promise to keep."

Bidant breathed in deeply, catching the scent of moonflowers buried deep in Gamma's hair. It was one of the things he missed most about her. About a completion after her death, he had all of them removed from the orphanage because their pungent odor became too much to bear on his psyche. "I'm not sure I can."

Gamma started to rub the base of his thumb. He didn't have to look down to know it was where the tattoo was placed, magically signifying their love, back when magic was still in the world. Subtly, he rubbed back with his fifth finger against the one placed on her own.

"Strong and silent. It wasn't my strength you needed. You were strong enough for the both of us. You just needed companionship. No one should be left alone. That's why you made the promise in the first place."

Gamma's words bore into him like a sharp sword, piercing his heart. Tears continued to welled up in his eyes, and his body started to shake as the flood of emotions overwhelmed him.

"I like her, you know," Gamma continued. "Anyone who could take care of you is worthy of my approval."

Bidant nodded, unable to speak as the memories cascaded over him like a bittersweet symphony. Though he was sure he wasn't ready, Gamma had spoken. Never once had she steared him wrong. 

"Don't let my absence be an anchor that weighs you down. Sail with the winds of change, and let the currents of time guide you toward new horizons. I'll always be a part of your journey, even if unseen."

"I love you so much," he whispered, turning to gaze into her brown eyes. Tightly he squeezed his hand into her small digits, and he could feel her reciprocate in kind. With the smile he had known her whole life, she spoke softly the words he needed to hear.

"Even death has not stopped my love for you. Now go and be the man I know you to be."

Bidant closed his eyes, and when he opened them, she was gone, carried on the back of the cool air that hung in the mausoleum. He stayed long enough to compose himself, and when he was ready, he fixed a look of determination to his face and left the mausoleum.

As he left, the air outside turned drastically warmer. Already he could feel a small amount of sweat build across his brow, and he knew today was going to be a hot one. Eager to get back home, he set off to do the last thing he knew he had to do by crossing over to the other side of the graveyard. This time, it took him much longer to find the tomb he was looking for. It had been a while since he last visited, and much like with his late wife, he found a small amount of shame creep up his spine. When he found what he was looking for, he bowed low with outstretched arms.

"Forgive me old friend for taking so long. I'm ready to uphold my promise. Time to save the Beachwick once again."

Here lies Thepa Warbol. Daughter of a Savior and Mother to the Future.

"Listen and Obey."