Epilogue

Fireflies hovered over the pond, daftly flying in between the cattails and leaving lilac sparks behind them. Crickets were performing their best summer song, and some of the sparrows that felt inspired enough to sing even at that point of the day were joining them every so often in their concerto.

It was the height of summer, and after a scorching day the citizens of Gordion seemed to hover around the square in front of the Hero's Memorial seeking solace in the fresh breeze that always blew in the evenings. It was lively, with street vendors trying to make their last sales of the day and children running around the smaller fountains drenched to the bone; yet one could tell the town was exhausted, and was looking forward to another good night's repose.

"Bad dog!" a girl was heard shouting in Drusi. She was about six or seven years old; with bright blond hair that was always the talk of passers-by in every Phrygian town she visited. It was the combination of that and her dark skin and muted green eyes that gave her a very exotic, mysterious air, which made many think she was Elysian.

A common mistake, but one that was understandable when, unprompted, she'd make use of her aether to do things like levitating a dog after it'd snatched her doll away from her hands.

"Would you look at that?" someone in the square was heard saying in Phrygian to their companion. "I don't think I had ever seen an Elysian before the Great Troubles began; and now they're everywhere, fleeing that horrible civil war."

"I heard their emperor is not dead, but it must be all wishful rumours. If he was not, where is he?"

"Well, it is an Elysian problem to solve, isn't it? I'm just glad the king cut ties with them; taxes used to be terrible when had to pay tribute to them!"

"May the sun ever shine bright over Prince Phobos' name" an old man said. "He gave us our country back."

The gossip never reached the little girl's ears; she was content now that the dog had dropped her toy, and she let him back on the floor. The poor whimpering creature ran away, frightened, leaving her to clean its saliva from the doll.

A man approached the girl. His face was obscured by the hood of his robe and a thin mask he wore over the upper half of his face; he could've been scary to most children, but the girl's father had always remarked that she'd been born incapable of feeling fear. "Hello," she said to him, trying to peek underneath his hood to see his face.

"Hello, child," the man returned the greeting. A small smile graced his lips. The girl noticed the heavy scarring in his jaw. "You seem to share the gift of those from Elysium. Is that where you're from? What is your name?"

"I'm Calliope!" she beamed at him. "But I'm not from Elysium, I'm Chaldean! You see, I speak Drusi like you."

"I've never seen a Chaldean with the gift of aether," the man commented.

"It's because my mum is from Byzantium!"

Someone shouted Calliope's name, and light footsteps ran to the pair. A boy, no older than twelve, arrived to his sister's side with a scowl. He was very similar to her – except for his eyes, which were of a deep amber colour. "You should be more careful, you klutz! How many times have father and mother told you not to be using your powers in public?"

"The dog took my doll," she complained. Her brother did not listen; he had his eyes on the man that eyed the both of them curiously.

"What is your business, stranger?" the boy asked. His distrustful stare wasn't lost on the hooded man, who laughed at his words before replying:

"It does you well to be wary, boy. Many Elysians are going missing in the border, and one wonders if this will extend everywhere else. You should do well not to be confused for one."

"Yes, I am aware," the boy said. "We've come from the border into Gordion."

"Hmm," the stranger mused. "Is there anything you think a stranger like me ought to know? I am planning on making my way to the Empire. There are quite a few disputes I must settle once and for all."

"You'll find it's a terrible time to go. Fleets have been sent by the Free Cities to aid the rebels who are fighting the nobles; the nobles themselves are fractured into factions, plotting against each other, with a new one announcing themselves Emperor every week."

This made the stranger visibly melancholic. "I once kept a garden in Elysium; I tended it very carefully. I thought, perhaps, as I became unable to maintain it that it would find its own exuberance. Someone I knew said to me that things ought to be left to their own devices…" he chuckled. "She was so horribly wrong, wasn't she? My garden is a mess; death and chaos reigning everywhere."

"I like wild flowers more than garden flowers!" Calliope decided to offer her opinion on the matter. "They grow on their own and they don't need anyone to look after them."

"Perhaps you should consider having more wild flowers in your garden," her brother added, nodding to her sister's suggestion. The stranger reached out and patted both children's heads affectionately.

"Perhaps I should. But there's always a need for a gardener, isn't it?"

"I suppose," the boy replied.

"Once it's presentable again I will make sure to extend an invitation for Calliope and yourself, young man, so that you may judge my garden," the man smiled. "Perhaps you could bring your Byzantine mother, as well; she may not have liked the first one, but the second one might be more to her liking. Until then, I thank you for your suggestion."

The stranger then turned back and walked away from the children. "Did he know our mother?" the boy asked himself as he watched him go.

The woman in question brought him out of his revelry as she shouted for them: "Calliope! Phobos! Come here!"

Both of them ran back to her, who was looking at them with an exasperated expression. In one arm she held their baby sister, Aanshi, who was fast asleep despite all the noise around her.

"Dinner should be ready soon; your father brought those Arqan dates you love so much, Calli," she said as she ushered her daughter along. "Make sure you go to be early, Pho, remember that you're going with your father to the horse market tomorrow. We need to prepare the caravan before Freya arrives."

The solemn expression in her son's face made her laugh. "It will be fun! I know it seems like a long journey, but your father made it when he was not so much older than you."

"The east seems like a strange and scary place, mother."

"Don't listen to Eon, he's exaggerating. And think of it this way: all these troubles from the Elysians will be far away. If anyone gives you grief you can simply use your aether, like I've shown you."

That seemed to cheer him up. Calliope had run off the moment she'd seen her father to jump into his arms. Ophelia waved away a fly that had been trying to find a home on Aanshi's head, and walked to join her family.