"That man can destroy life is just as miraculous a feat as that he can create it, for life is the miracle, the inexplicable. In the act of destruction, man sets himself above life; he transcends himself as a creature. Thus, the ultimate choice for a man, inasmuch as he is driven to transcend himself, is to create or to destroy, to love or to hate."

—Erich Fromm, The Sane Society

"You don’t meet a girl like that every dynasty."

—Emperor, Mu Lan

Asahane crouched on the ground, breathing hard. The ongoing battle showed no signs of stopping, and the humans were the ones with a slight issue with morale. The Muteran were confident enough in the outcome of this battle—their leader had survived thousands of years and would last longer, whereas the humans still suffered pitifully short life spans. Lethya was still alive, though she was injured and a bit in despair—but that was all Asa could tell; the spells in Jaegar’s fortress twisted and blocked the rest.

It could have been worse, though. Tekkokage had been mindless with rage, and warped from the beginning—in her state, she could have wiped out hundreds of soldiers in a few seconds. If she hadn’t been there, all that would be left of the ground forces would possibly be a sea of ghosts and charred bodies. As it was, it had taken far too much out of her to put an end to Laise’s dragon-sister, and now she was stuck on the ground until she caught her breath, both mentally, physically, and psymantically.

"Asa!" Tai was circling over her, golden wings outstretched and glistening against the night sky and the aerial fights going on overhead.

"Before you ask if I’m hurt, yes, yes I am." She didn’t bother keeping her bad mood out of her voice. "And worrying won’t help any either."

"…Fine," he said after a moment. Had he not a clear view of precisely what Tekkokage and the fight had taken out of her, he would have been offended, but fortunately he knew better. The ground shook as he landed next to her. "I’ll just make sure nothing else tries to eat you until you get back up. Deal?"

"Works for me," she responded wearily, laying her head on the ground. "Thanks."

"Not a problem." His eyes watched the surrounding area warily, every once in a while glowing as he drove off a Muteran that thought it could take on a Gold dragon.

There was a crack of lightning at his back, and he looked behind him to find Asa glowering at a pile of burnt flesh. "Stupid thing thought it’d get you from behind," she said dazedly.

"I owe you." Judging from the size of that pile of burnt flesh, that could have been ugly if she hadn’t caught it.

"Nonsense," Asa sighed, closing her eyes. "I’ve got your back."

"You always have," he groused. One blue eye slid open, landing on him, and for a moment there was an uneasy pause as both wondered the implications of that and the signs they saw in the other.

Tai and Asa broke off, embarrassed, and nodded almost simultaneously, both stammering, "You first."

Then they were interrupted by a large explosion of light spewing from a hole in the roof of the fortress. It could only be coming from Lethya—but there was something strange…A rumble shook the ground, brilliant power enveloping the entirety of the fortress and advancing on some of the Muterans. Wisely, they fled.

Suddenly pain shot through Asa’s head and she shrieked, curdling the blood of any who heard the unearthly cry. An image came to mind, burning in the darkness behind her eyes, but it couldn’t be true—not again—

When Lawrence Payler woke up, it was to find himself in some sort of cryogenic freezing device. The last thing he remembered was walking back to V.E.O. from the public library—

Then Jaegar—

Then helping Lethya—

It took him less than a second to break down the door and stumble out, his knees shaking. Walking was a difficulty, but he managed somehow. Others were beginning to stumble around, dazed and bewildered. They were free from a prison they had only the vaguest recollection of. Did that mean Jaegar was dead?

What little of his psymantic sense was left—it would regenerate with rest—told Lawrence that a massive fight had taken place within the fortress. He made his way out the door, only to find he’d just left one of the two places in the fortress that had been spared. The rest was in ruins.

What looked like white smoke but was the residue of some phenomenally large spell hung over one part of the fortress relatively nearby. Carefully, Lawrence picked his way over, eyes on the figure moving slowly among the psymantic mists. Before him there were heaps of rubble and toppled columns, the floor almost entirely obscured. It looked oddly familiar.

Then Lawrence saw the lifeless form curled up on the ground, still glowing faintly.

He knew the residue had come from Lethya, and that she’d gambled her life to end this hellish war. But he’d never thought she’d lose that wager. For someone who had been so alive, to see her so still and pale was so wrong. For someone whose eyes were always on the people she cared for, making sure they were safe, to see them closed was appalling. And for someone whose power and influence rivaled the forces of nature, she seemed so small, so cold, and it felt as if the world was falling to ashes.

He didn’t know where Ander was or if he’d even survived, but if he had—if Ander was still alive, he would take this the hardest of all.

If only there were some way to fill the chasm her loss had carved in the world—but there was nothing Lawrence could say or do.

Slowly, people trailed behind in his wake, ringing around the ruins of that hall, until the thousands of survivors were gathered around the one person that had died to save them. The flakes of crystallized power, like glittering snow, showered down, blanketing the broken stone in a soft, white shroud.

"Well?"

"Give her a second, Lianai! She just died!"

"Well, what is death but arrival upon the next life?" a light male voice inquired.

"Not now, Henry," another man sighed.

Lethya blinked and slowly sat up. She was lying on a squishy couch in a large, well-furnished room. There were six or seven people walking about or sitting; a timer went off and one woman walked into another room. A man with flyaway hair was digging through a desk drawer, scowling. "I know I filed one, and they granted it…It’s here somewhere…"

"It had better be, Albert," a red-haired, stately woman said dryly. "Oh, she’s awake."

Immediately she was wrapped in an embrace, a familiar perfume filling her nose. Her eyes widened. "Mama?"

"I wanted to come, honey," her mother said miserably, releasing her and holding her at arm’s length. Something white and feathery hung over her shoulders. "But…we all had to stay here. Rules of being dead, you know…I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive them for putting you through this."

"Where am I?" she asked, confused. And why did her mother—in fact, why did everyone in the room except for her—have wings?

"You’re dead," her mother said gently. "But…it’s a long story."

"Mind introducing us?" the man named Henry inquired.

"Oh. Right." Lianai indicated the man who’d spoken. "Lethya, this is Henry David Thoreau, key player in the Transcendentalism movement—"

"Trans-whatsits?"

"Transcendentalism," Henry David Thoreau corrected. "But I do like Trans-whatsits, other than it makes it sound like some sort of cross-dresser. Transcendentalism was the basis of the feminist and environmentalist movements. I wouldn’t say I was a key player, Lianai…"

"You were and you know it," her mother returned. "Over there—" She waved a hand at a woman seated in a chair who wore a very old-fashioned dress and had a fierce, cool gaze. "That’s Susan B. Anthony. Sympathizer to your cause."

"I love what you did with the Grand Council," she said amusedly. "Pure brilliance. It’s about time someone showed them what the view is like from outside their rears."

Lianai snorted, but didn’t comment. "Gandhi, Alexandrielle, and Marty—Martin Luther King Jr.—are in a meeting, but Albert—that’s Albert Einstein making a mess of that desk drawer and he’d better tidy up when he’s done or else—is here, and so is Queen Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth Tudor," the red-haired woman said cordially. "I thought I’d see the most active member of our little club."

"Club?" Lethya was entirely lost.

"Aurelia Sabrellion is asleep again." Her mother pointed to a woman with short-cropped dark hair asleep on another couch. "And Val—Valiandessa Eve Obrieun—she’s in the kitchen. Wonderful cook, that woman. She’ll be here in a sec."

Right on cue, the same woman whose statue was in front of the school walked back into the room, bearing a platter of fresh brownies. Albert Einstein whirled around and reached a hand out, but she slapped it away. "No! None for you until you find that form!"

He looked scandalized. "Val—come on, please…"

"No! You go away and find it!" She marched past him and set the platter on the table. "Hey there, K-bomb."

Lethya, who felt like a lump of charcoal in the middle of a set of cut diamonds, only managed a small ‘eep.’

"It’s a shame you happened to die right now," Valiandessa said thoughtfully, sitting on a chair with her elbows resting on her knees. "A lot of us aren’t around. I know Marty was looking forward to meeting you…And Abe—Abraham Lincoln, you know the fellow—he’s off looking for a new hat… Mu Lan was applying for reincarnation again—she just doesn’t give up, does she…Where is everybody?"

"Willy—Shakespeare, Lethya—went to go discuss poetry with Tennyson," Elizabeth said, her mouth twisting as she tried to recall the names. "Joan is hanging about with Antigone, and Arthur and Lance are jousting." She shook her head, muttering, "What a God-forsaken sport…There’s others, like Pythagoras and Toyotomi Hideyasu, but they’re just not here right now."

"W—Why—" Lethya looked at her mother, confused. "Mama, why do they want to see me?"

"For one of us, she’s not too quick on the uptake," Albert Einstein said under his breath, still pillaging the unfortunate desk.

"Oh, hush, you," Susan snapped. "You thought you were a cinnamon roll for the first few days here."

"Hey, I was old and raving when I first got here," he argued. He did look younger than most pictures of him, Lethya realized. It seemed that the people here had reverted to the prime of their health.

"And he hasn’t changed a bit," Lianai said placidly. "Lethya, the answer to your question is…well, long. Have a brownie."

"All…right…" She took one from the platter and took a small bite.

"Now, here’s how it works." Her mother sat back and pursed her lips, thinking. "All people on earth have free will. That will never change. However, Upper Management can tell what’s going to happen most of the time if things are left to their own…and that’s where we come in. Every once in a while, something on earth needs to happen or needs to be changed, and when that happens, what’s called a High Soul is sent down. High Souls are souls that can take the burden they’ll be given. It’s not that they don’t have free will, and they can go whatever way they want, but the hope is that they’ll accomplish what needs to be done. You, and I, and everyone here—we’re High Souls. Not all of them come here—they get corrupted, like the first Levitator. He was supposed to unite the Muterans and the humans, but he failed and was twisted into Jaegar. Your friends, Jerik, Tyra, Ander—and Maia—they’re High Souls too. And High Souls aren’t reusable, with only one or two exceptions made in an emergency. Once we’re done and dead, we’re not allowed back on earth—which is why I didn’t come back."

"Oh," was all Lethya could say.

"They knew the First Apocalypse was coming, but it was too big to get granted an Appeal for Intervention," added Valiandessa. "Too many people’s fates were tied with that. Same with when the Dragon’s Eye took you over. Without the First Apocalypse, you wouldn’t have survived until this time to fix the problem with girls not being allowed to fight. Jaegar was planning another major strike the day the Dragon’s Eye took you over. If it hadn’t, Tyra and Ander would have died. They were necessary evils."

It made sense, though it was rather overwhelming to think of. "But if High Souls can’t come back…and I’m a High Soul…how come, when Hidekazu killed me, I came back?"

"The Dragon’s Eye reacted in time to intercept you before you got here," Henry David Thoreau answered. "You know how it works: responds to the two strongest emotions, hate and love. Ander…well, he sure wasn’t hating you right then."

Lethya blushed furiously, but something else occurred to her. "But I’m here now. Does that mean I can’t go back?"

The others exchanged looks. "Well, Lethya," Valiandessa began hesitantly, "let’s put it this way…"

Maientra was the first to land on the battlefield and start running to the ruin of Jaegar’s fortress. She’d instructed her subordinates to round up what they could find of Jaegar’s army, but hundreds, if not thousands, had already escaped. She had more important things to take care of, such as finding what sort of shape Lethya was in after pulling a light show like that.

Jerik and Tyra watched her go from where they sat on the ground, leaning on each other, exhausted. Obviously, Lethya had won the battle, so all they had to do was wait for her and the others to come over and they’d get off the battlefield and out of there.

Thus, when Maientra’s scream of "NOOOO!" wrenched through the air, they were caught entirely by surprise. "What was that?!" Tyra gasped, sitting up. It was starting to become painfully clear that all was not right.

A nearby spirit looked down and said a bit sadly, "Commander Rensaris is upset. Very understandable. Her sister has passed."

"Passed what?" she asked, voice low and soft, already knowing the answer.

Somehow, Tyra staggered to her feet, Jerik struggling to stand beside her. "That can’t be right," she said numbly, climbing onto the UberVespa and helping Jerik up behind her. "No, it can’t." The UberVespa took off towards the giant heap of rubble the fortress had been reduced to. Jerik didn’t say anything.

When they got there, Maientra was kneeling in the ruins, holding tightly onto something that didn’t move, people staring at her from a safe distance. Ander was on the ground a little ways away. But where was Lethya?

It took Tyra a moment to realize that what Maientra was kneeling over was terribly familiar.

"She didn’t," she breathed. "She isn’t…she couldn’t…no…no…" Stumbling off the UberVespa, she ran over to Maientra; her fears were confirmed. Lethya lay there, pale as the snow-like flakes still falling from the sky. Her eyes were closed, as if she were only asleep, but Tyra knew better.

"No!" Dropping to the ground, she seized Lethya by the shoulders and shook her, tears running down her face. "You promised! Damn it all, Lethya, you promised!"

Jerik pulled her away and managed to restrain her from throwing herself at Lethya’s body again. "Stop it, Tyra!"

"She promised! She promised!" She thrashed, the fire in her eyes fueled by tears.

"It won’t help!" He turned her around and wrapped his arms around her, eyes shut tightly. She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing almost violently.

"She promised…" Tyra mumbled wretchedly. It wasn’t fair—they’d kept their part of the bargain! They’d managed to get out of the battle alive, but why hadn’t Lethya?

"She used her soul," a spirit said quietly, reverently. The dead were gathering around them, looking at Lethya’s body in respect and awe. "She killed herself to take Jaegar down."

How could they have lost so much to win such a victory?

Just then, Ander’s eyes flicked open. He could see the auras of thousands of people, as well as others…

One sang out in grim, dark tones, wrapped around an aura it didn’t belong with. He had to be mistaken.

Slowly, he forced himself to sit up, knowing he had to prove himself wrong. That wasn’t Lethya’s aura he’d seen, and it wasn’t death he’d seen it entwined with.

Blonde hair spilled onto the ground, leading the eye to a bloodless face, the eyes closed and features still. In one limp hand was clutched a battered, grimy dark blue strip of cloth.

Ander did not care about the outcome of the battle. He didn’t care to see if his parents’ murderer was dead. He could have cared less about the people around him for that moment. All that mattered was the white, cold, extinguished form lying in front of Maientra.

"Lethya?"

Gazes shifted to Ander’s stricken face, but no answer came.

The hand he reached towards her shook violently, then fell. He tried again. "Lethya?!"

A slight breeze stirred the ashes, and that was all.

Ander started towards her, but he’d forgotten about the wounds he’d received and bones he’d broken; they send vivid reminders of their existence, making him collapse in the dust. His breath rushed out, but he dragged in another choked with dust and forced himself to his knees. One gritty, bloodstained hand brushed her cold cheek, then drew back. There was no life in her anymore.

For once and for all, Lethya was gone. And he had no way to bring her back.

"Let’s put it this way," Valiandessa Eve Obrieun said, smiling a bit. "You’re not supposed to be able to go back. But, um, one of us found out about what it would take from you to kill Jaegar, and…well…we filed an Appeal for Intervention with Upper Management."

"Found it!" Albert Einstein waved a piece of paper in the air; Lethya winced at what was left of the desk.

"Good. Now, see, when you get an Appeal for Intervention, it basically grants us the power to meddle with one thing on earth, and it can’t be something way huge like eliminating gravity. There are laws like that. But restoring life…" She grinned widely. "It’s like a blank check, within limits. If someone died more than a day beforehand, it’s a no-go. But if they just died…" She took the paper from Albert. "And it says nowhere in the fine print that a High Soul can’t be returned. I don’t think we’re supposed to send you back, but hey, what the heck." She shrugged. "Rules are made to be bent terribly out of shape until they contradict themselves. And what are they going to do, kill us?"

There was a knock, and all of them looked up at the door. "Come in," Lianai called, opening the door with a wave of her hand.

Two people stood there: a man with piercing, fiery golden eyes and untidy dark brown hair; and a woman with shoulder-length ash blonde hair and beautiful dark hazel eyes. Lethya instantly knew who they were without being told.

"Is Lethya here?" Alene Tientas looked in, spotted her, and smiled. "Um, hi. You don’t know us—"

"No, you’re Ander’s parents," she interrupted, then realized she’d cut the woman off and blushed again. "Sorry."

"Not quick on the uptake, Alby-boy?" Susan inquired, arching an eyebrow. Albert ignored her.

"Could you take a message to Ander for us?" Laneor smiled a little, and Lethya could easily see the similarities between him and his son.

"Of course." She nodded quickly.

"He’s really quite fond of you," Alene said affectionately. "I wish things had turned out differently so we could see this, but… Could you tell him that we miss him, that it’s over, and that he doesn’t have to be afraid anymore?"

Afraid of what? she thought but didn’t say. "Consider it done."

"Thank you, Lethya." There was genuine liking in the eyes of Ander’s mother, and Lethya felt as if she’d passed some sort of test.

"We’d better send her back now," Valiandessa cut in.

Lianai quickly leaned forward, one arm going around Lethya’s shoulders. "No!"

"I’m sorry, Lianai," Elizabeth said gently, "but if we don’t do it now Upper Management might find out and stop it from happening."

"But she’s hardly been here ten minutes! Look, she hasn’t even finished her brownie!"

Lethya glanced down at the half-eaten square on her napkin and quickly shoved the rest in her mouth. It would be a while before she had another brownie made in heaven. "I bet Maia’s having a hernia," she said worriedly around her mouthful. About half of the people in the room understood her.

"Yes, Maientra isn’t very happy right now, and neither are her friends." The voice had come from the couch; turning around, Lethya found the woman with short, dark hair—Aurelia Sabrellion—watching them with mischievous black eyes. "Ander in particular is in the process of twisting an intestine."

"And how long have you been awake?" Albert demanded.

"The entire time," Aurelia said with no trace of shame or regret. "It really is a mess down there, Lianai—her friends are torn up, and I don’t even want to go into how Ander’s feeling. You know the boy, the only time he blames himself is when it isn’t his fault. Though you’d think they’d be used to her dying by now."

"The point is, Upper Management knows she’s dead, and they’ll be sending someone along any minute to make sure she’s all settled in and get her wings fitted," Susan said. "We’ve got to send her now."

"You’ll see me…sometime," Lethya pointed out to her mother. "I mean, I can only die so many times."

"But what if you fall into a Preservex again or something? Or what if Upper Management makes you Immortal?"

"Lianai, you know very well that Immortality is a punishment, and if Lethya deserves punishment, then we’re all going to hell. Or we would have gone to hell." Valiandessa stood up and put the piece of paper in the middle of the floor. "I’ll set things up."

"You know, once Upper Management finds out about this, we’re all dead," Aurelia said innocently, grinning. "Oh, hey, too late!"

"Please, Aurelia, not the dead jokes," Susan sighed, covering her eyes with one hand.

"Oh, you know I’m the life of the party," she said gleefully. "Actually, I suppose you’d have to call what we speak a dead language!"

"I’m in pain," Albert said weakly.

"Things are going to get very interesting once Jerik gets up here," Lethya muttered.

"Lianai, if you’ve got anything to say, say it now," Valiandessa said quickly. The piece of paper was glowing.

"Can’t this wait?" Lethya’s mother pleaded.

"Someone’s coming," Alene said from the doorway, looking outside.

Lethya was seized up in a long hug. It occurred to her that she wasn’t going to see her mother again for a very long time, and tears came to her eyes. Yet she knew she’d see her sometime, and that would have to be good enough.

Lianai let go, kissed her daughter’s forehead, and said raggedly, "You take care of yourself, you understand me? Eat your vegetables and do as your teachers tell you to! And don’t let yourself be pushed around by anyone, especially that Ander boy!"

Laneor scowled. "Hey!"

"I’ll be fine, Mama," Lethya said, standing. "I promise." Lianai sniffed.

She walked over to where Valiandessa was standing. Valiandessa nodded to her, then frowned at the shining rectangle in the floor. It flared, black words rising up and vanishing into smoke, and then the rectangle expanded outward until it was three feet long and wide. There was nothing within it but white light. "There’s going to be a slight cost," Valiandessa informed her. "You’re going to temporarily lose your psymantic power for a while. It ought to start coming back sometime within the month, but it won’t regenerate all the way until sometime in winter. Everything has a price."

"That’s more than fine with me," Lethya said. "I think I’d kinda like a vacation, actually."

"Then just step through there," the older woman said casually. "Nice meeting you, Lethya."

"Nice meeting you too—all of you." She hesitated.

"I love you," Lianai called.

"Love you too, Mama." She took a deep breath. "…Bye, everybody."

And she stepped into the square.

She was gone in an instant, and the square shrank until it had vanished. The room seemed awfully dark without it, and silence reigned.

"Well, that was interesting," Aurelia said cheerfully.

Suddenly, Laneor and Alene moved to let a young woman in. She wore the laminated badge of one of Upper Management’s Aides. "Excuse me—I’ve got a message from Upper Management."

"Yes?" Valiandessa asked carefully.

"We need Lethya Fanyathe."

They traded nervous looks. "Oh—um—" She tried to stall for time so someone could think of a story. "Why do you need her?"

"Well, normally we don’t make exceptions for High Souls," the Aide said, "but she died before her purpose was entirely fulfilled, so we were going to send her back."

Albert Einstein stood up, walked over to the wall, and whacked his head into it with a loud and resounding thud.

Ander’s eyes were closed, because if he opened them, he’d see Lethya. And she would be dead.

At this close, the overpowering aura of death threatened to make him pass out, but he didn’t care. There was no way she could come back from this. The Dragon’s Eye, clenched in her hand, only had the faintest of flickers to show it wasn’t entirely spent; same with the grayish stone she held as well. Neither had the power to bring her back. Her soul was long gone. She had truly, impossibly, finally lost her life. They had won the war, but it had cost them Lethya, and to him, that hardly felt like a victory. Jaegar was dead, but for Ander the world might have as well ended.

Ander’s eyes flew open. The spirits were murmuring and pointing at Lethya, and he looked down at her.

She had an uncomfortable look on her face. "Ow… They never told me it was going to still hurt! Ow! Ow!"

"You’re…alive," Ander said blankly.

Lethya twisted to look at him, eyes a bit unfocused. "What?…Oh, yeah. I’m alive. Again." Her smile was a bit faint, but nevertheless true; then she yawned. "I…think I’m going to sleep now, ’kay?"

"Only if you plan on waking up," he replied. His eyes were shifting from yellow to a more golden-yellow shade, and they were growing brighter than usual.

"I will." Her eyelids were slowly falling. "I…promise."

When Lethya’s eyes slid open again, she found herself in the hospital wing of V.E.O., staring at the ceiling. She was still tired out, but the pain was, for the moment, gone. Limply lifting an arm, she found it expertly bandaged, as well as any other wound she had.

"They said that if there hadn’t been people inches from death, they would have brought in one of the healers to work on you." She looked up and found Ander sitting by her bed, arms folded. Any injuries he’d gotten were long gone, but his eyes were worried, though he was averting his gaze. "Ingrates. Never mind you won the war for them."

"No, I’ll be fine." She sat up, moving carefully. "It’s not like I’ll be dying sometime soon. I’ve kind of got a guarantee on that."

"Can you walk?" he asked.

She looked up and met his eyes, but they both looked away at the same time. "I don’t know," she answered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed—just not very quickly. "Why?"

"There’s something you might want to see," he said cryptically, standing. She set her feet on the floor and levered herself from the bed, but her knees gave out. Hands reached out and steadied her, and then all of a sudden she was picked up off her feet and moving. An undignified squeak escaped her lips, but Ander didn’t say anything.

Not a single person was in the halls; there was no sound in the school that she could have heard. About to search it with her powers, she found nothing and remembered Valiandessa’s words. At least they wouldn’t bother her for a while.

A sound rumbled in her ears; then Ander opened a door and stepped out onto a balcony.

A few stories below her, millions of millions of people packed the streets, cheering and screaming and laughing and crying. Confetti, streamers, anything that could be dropped off a building without hurting someone—it was all floating in the air, raining down on the crowds. Fireworks were going off, painting fiery streaks across a blue sky. Alarms, bells, speakers—if it made noise, it was blaring in the city. Giant screens usually reserved for advertisements were flashing messages such as, "WAR IS OVER", "JAEGAR IS DEAD", "BATTLE IS WON", and "LETHYA FANYATHE AND OTHERS RETURN TRIUMPHANT". Dragonships soared overhead, cavorting and shedding sparks, psymantic lights, streamers, and pieces of foil.

Suddenly, Lethya’s face appeared on one of the screens, gaping and astonished, and heads turned, fingers pointing. She caught her name being whispered and shouted and spoken from every soul on the streets. More and more screens followed suit, focusing on her, until she gathered her senses and managed a tentative smile. The people below roared, and a chant began standing out above the noise: "Fan-yathe! Fan-yathe!"

Unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears. After thousands of years, it was over and done, and she had ended it. She had brought an end to this bloody, terrible war.

"The first Levitator was supposed to unite the Muteran and the humans…"

Her work wasn’t done yet, though. While Jaegar had been evil, he had made it much too clear what needed to happen between the two species; perhaps that was part of what she was supposed to do here as well. But they had told her that she had returned because there was more for her to do and more to change. It seemed that her life was going to be busy, no matter what.

Jerik and Tyra walked out onto the balcony, grinning and nudging each other at the sight of Lethya burying her head in Ander’s shoulder to hide the tears streaking down her face. They weren’t tears of sorrow, though; they were tears of joy and relief.

Drowning out all else, the noise of the people shook the skies itself in a discordant, yet beautifully jubilant song of victory. And running through it like the framework of a tower was the chanting: "Fanyathe! Fanyathe!"

"I think they like her," Emperor Loraeth said lightly, looking down on the crowds from the rooftop of V.E.O., the mild wind tugging at his hair.

"Can’t argue with that," Maia agreed, leaning on the railing with a tired smile on her face. "Hard to completely comprehend, though… I mean, Jaegar’s gone. Where do we go from here?"

"Look at all the casualties," Loraeth pointed out. "How many did your school lose?"

"Twenty-seven from here, nineteen from Halisyen," she sighed. "Overall, it could have been worse in comparison, but it’s still an ugly number. Out of six billion fighters, we lost roughly ten million. That’s ten million families that have lost."

The emperor leaned on the railing as well, eyes on the fireworks. "We can’t forget that. And that’s where we go from here—we start healing from everything Jaegar has done over the course of time. We start training the girls—now everybody’s seen what they can do without being taught, they’ll see value in putting their skills to work. We find what’s left of Jaegar’s army and deal with them. And we see what we can find in the old cities where the energy fields were—who knows what’s been there for three thousand years? The war’s over, but there’s work to be done." He sighed. "I don’t know if we’ll live long enough to see Jaegar’s influence removed completely. I don’t know how long that will take either…But at least we can make a foundation to build on."

Maia nodded silently, and neither spoke for a moment, just watched the celebration and tried to take in the fact that the fight—with Jaegar, at least—was over. The concept was so foreign—Jaegar had always been, and they’d never thought of him gone.

Then Emperor Loraeth shifted his weight nervously and, staring at the ground, asked, "When…when you were…um, out of it…you said…when we were younger, in college—you—you—" He blushed. "You—er—liked—me. Was…that true?"

Maia blanched, turning first white, then a brilliant red. Now staring at the ground as well, she stammered, "Well…uh…um…Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," Loraeth said quickly.

"Oh." She bit her lip, and uncomfortable silence filled the air. He resolved himself to not getting an answer and determinedly avoided her gaze. The crowd rumbled below, Dragonships shrieking and growling overhead, and the occasional crack of a firework shocked his ears.

"It’s true," Maia said tonelessly.

Loraeth’s eyebrows flew up, and he nearly fell over. Somehow, his vocal cords were moving on their own. "And now?" Maia turned away from him and said something he couldn’t hear. "What?"

She faced him, face flushed, and muttered, "Well, it’s not like it went away…"

"Really?!" His eyes were the size of pie plates. She nodded mutely, then looked up, only to find the Grand Poo-bah himself grinning like an idiot.

In a moment, not only were fireworks going off in the air, but they were quite active on the rooftop as well.

Someone shot four fireworks into the air at the same time, and they exploded simultaneously. One was a spiky green, another a sharp-edged red, the third a fiery golden. The last was a blossoming shower of white and blue sparks. The four students standing on the balcony knew exactly what they stood for, and exchanged amused looks.

"Nice view," Jerik commented, glancing at Tyra out of the corner of his eye.

"Of course." She leaned on his shoulder, still worn out, but as happy as the rest of them.

Suddenly, for Tyra and Jerik, everything froze. A bright light appeared in front of them, a voice issuing from it.

"I should hope so," Tyra said almost indignantly, trying to cover her surprise. "And I hope we never have to do it again."

"Oh, there will be work for you," the voice assured her. "Some of the people that died today want to say farewell to their families, and those still alive are going to want you to tell them how their deceased is doing and to relay any final words they have. Busy work, really, nothing serious. But we can’t guarantee that serious work won’t come up again."

"Too bad." She crossed her arms and looked away. "I won’t do it. Now go away."

"Funny how you said you weren’t going to do anything right before you brought all those dead people back," it said amusedly, fading away. The world started up again.

"You alright with that?" Jerik asked. "Though it doesn’t seem we get much of a choice."

"It’s fine," she sighed. "It just looks like it’s going to take a while for things to settle down completely."

Jerik smiled a bit. "That’s okay. If everything settled down right off the bat, life would be really boring."

"Yeah," she reluctantly admitted. "I guess it would be, wouldn’t it?"

One week later, Lethya paid her respects to the final funeral pyre, paused a moment, and turned away. Thousands of people had turned out for the first of many memorial services, and everywhere she looked, she found someone in black bowing before a fire or placing a token on the enormous mound of flowers and other gifts. This service in particular was close to her, because those in the funeral pyres were her classmates, both from Halisyen and V.E.O.

In one lay Toson Chorenta, Lawrence’s goofy friend who had joked about being heaven’s gift to women. Another consumed the body of Sharena, one of the two girls to first approach her at Halisyen. Ramon Quoal, one of the refugees she’d ferried down to V.E.O., had lost his life as well. There were others there, some she knew, others she didn’t. It hurt, but at the same time she knew she’d avenged them and removed the biggest threat to other lives. It was a pain she could live with, and one she would have to.

Slowly, she made her way out of the plaza where the service was being held, smiling a bit as she passed the statue of Valiandessa Eve Obrieun. There was a bundle of white lilies in her arms, half spent already as one lay at the foot of each funeral pyre. The rest were still as fresh and crisp as the few clouds drifting in long, feathery wisps over the crystal blue sky. Very few people saw her leave, hardly distinguishing her from all the other figures in black.

The streets of Neo Tokyo were quiet and cleared of the confetti and streamers, though signs in windows and advertising screens still let it be known exactly how everybody felt about the victory. Lethya made her way down the sidewalk at her own pace, taking her time, and followed a path she’d found. It had taken most of the time she’d spent in the hospital bed, recovering, to hunt down what she’d been looking for.

Deeper and deeper into the city she went, moving out of the newer skyscrapers into an older area, the buildings worn but well-maintained. Then, rounding a corner, she found her destination.

An ancient cemetery sprawled in the middle of the district, bound by an askew iron fence, some of the gravestones covered in moss; the ground bulged up in a gentle, low, grass-covered slope. It had taken longer than she’d expected to find this place, but then again, few people knew it even existed. She crossed the street and pushed the rusting gate aside, then went from headstone to headstone, looking for something in particular.

Lethya found it on the marker at the crest of the low hill. A life-sized stone angel stood on a pedestal before her, wings spread; there were words only she, Tyra, and Maia would be able to read etched into the pedestal. They read:

She slowly knelt, not caring that her skirt was too short to cover her knees and they were going to get dirty. The lilies were laid at the base of the statue, white and green bright against the gray. For it to have resisted moss and weather, the stone must have been coated in the chemical they had developed long ago to seal it against deterioration or encroaching plant life. The creators would have been pleased to learn that three thousand years later, it was still working.

Footsteps approached behind her, and though her powers were still reduced to minute flickers, her psymantic senses were still sharp enough to tell her that Ander now stood at her back. She didn’t turn around or stand. "Hi."

"Hi." There was a pause. "Your mother?" Briefly, silently, she nodded. Another pause stretched between them. "We got a call from the Chairman of the Defense Council. From what they know so far, more of Jaegar’s army escaped than what we killed, so they’re still out there, and they need to be rounded up. Once your powers are back, they want us—you, me, Jerik, and Tyra—to start working with them and help them out. They said we’d be paid, and the number they gave me isn’t exactly minimum wage."

"Sounds good," she said blandly, one hand resting on her mother’s name.

"Since the girls are going to learn to fight too, they were going to have to remodel Halisyen so it could work, but someone else had another idea." He didn’t say that the someone else had been Jerik. "So they decided to just build a skybridge to connect the two schools."

"Good." For a few seconds, the only sound was the subtle breeze. Then she remembered his parents’ request. "When I was dead, I…I saw your parents." If she’d turned around, she would have seen his eyebrows fly up. "They asked me to tell you that they miss you, that it’s over, and that…you don’t have to be afraid anymore."

He said nothing, eyes focused on the ground for a long moment. Both of them remained motionless, lost in their thoughts; Ander was turning over the last part of the message in his mind. He was afraid? Of what?

It hit him, and it shook him to the core. If he didn’t have to be afraid anymore, it meant he had no reason to push people away, to keep them shut out, to keep himself from caring. That, in itself, was frightening. But it was true.

"Lethya." There was hesitation in his voice, but he continued. He didn’t have to be afraid of the fire anymore. "I—I—care about you. I think I’m in love with you."

Lethya’s eyes widened, turning the color of the predawn sky. Ander wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

But…

"I’ll never be Laise," she said, her voice still and slow. "She…was perfect. And I’m not. I’m really not. I can’t be what you want. I’m sorry."

There was a pause, near eternal for the tormented Lethya. Then Ander said the unexpected.

"Who ever said I wanted perfect?"

Her gaze moved up to the angel’s face, looking down on her with a peaceful smile. Her eyes first narrowed and turned pale blue with thought, then changed again, dyed a calm, happy blue. "Oh," she said simply, the seed of light sown in her eyes.

The indigo hair tie, once clenched in her hand, was now released. She picked up the lilies again, this time tying that piece of cloth around their stems, and then set them on the grave again and stood up.

When Lethya turned around to face him, from Ander’s view, the angel disappeared behind her, leaving only the stone wings visible. It appeared that they grew from her shoulders, completely unfurled as a point of difference in the wide blue sky.