Megan woke sometime the next day. She had no idea of the time, but it must be the middle of the day, for sunlight was streaming through the window of her room, bathing the dark wooden desk in a golden glow. She lay disoriented for quite some time, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing. It could have been Michael, who was no longer beside her. There was only the faint imprint of where he’d lain, and the smell of him on her wrinkled robes.

It could too have been the absolute silence of her surroundings. After nearly an entire day filled with the sounds of fighting, her ears were strained, trying to catch any hint of danger. But of course, there were none. She shook her head groggily, wincing as the movement ached deep in her skull. The morning after a mana-draining day felt much like a hangover, she reflected, not for the first time. With a sigh, she forced herself up into a sitting position and put her feet on the warm floor.

She was too tired to bother with the usual preparation she’d normally put in a day. The band tying her hair back was lopsided, so she simply removed it, letting her hair fall down. She chose to forgo the spell she normally used to straighten out her robes, as well. They were an excellent representation of her mental and physical state. Standing hurt, so she wasn’t about to go through the effort just to look pretty. With another sigh, she shuffled drunkenly to the door of her room.

The hallway of the ground floor was deserted, but she could hear faint voices coming from the common room. So classes were canceled for the day, as she’d suspected. She thought of what Rachel had said the previous night, that the other students now regarded her with something like awe. They were bound to still feel the same, even after a night’s rest. Oh well. Might as well face the storm than try to avoid it. She squared her shoulders and marched down the hall and into the common area.

Over a dozen Proficient students were there, lounging in comfortable armchairs, either talking quietly with one another or else playing a card game. Students with an empty schedule often failed to find sudden tasks to occupy their attention, and these were no exception. She was relieved to recognize Rachel among the number. Her friend had jerked up at the sight of her, a smile spreading across her face. Megan gave a small wave, the most energetic greeting she could muster.

Rachel moved to her at once, her arms reaching out for an embrace. Megan surrendered to the kindness. She didn’t have enough energy to fight it, anyway. Rachel’s voice was quiet and soothing. “You look dead on your feet. Did you get enough sleep?”

Megan gave a shrug. “Only time will tell. I couldn’t sleep any longer, in any event. What time is it? How long was I out?”

“You were asleep for most of the day,” Rachel explained. “Lunch was four hours ago. We thought of waking you to eat but decided not to. I can get you some food though if you’re hungry.”

It was only when the words were spoken that Megan did realize how famished she was. “Food sounds good. What’s going on with the recovery? Has Samuel stopped by? Where is -”

She stopped abruptly. She’d almost spoken Jordan’s name aloud. That was not wise, and would certainly shatter the tenuous self-control that she’d regained. She took a deep breath, forcing herself not to let any tears show.

“Michael’s out on a patrol right now,” Rachel said kindly. The look in her eyes said that she knew who Megan had been about to ask after. This diversion was a kind gesture. “He said that if you weren’t up by dinner, he’d be back to watch over you.”

Megan shook her head slightly. “He can meet us for dinner.”

“Of course,” Rachel said. The other students, quite a few of whom had risen with eager expressions, hurriedly cleared the way as Rachel began to lead Megan out of the dorms. Perhaps it was sympathy for her exhaustion or the icy look of challenge in Rachel’s eyes, but they didn’t speak up or try to stop the pair from leaving. “Let’s go to The Heron.”

The Heron. Megan remembered the tavern and restaurant as if it were a distant dream. But it was located right in the midst of where the final fight had taken place. Was there even the faintest chance that it was still whole, let alone open? Maybe she’d slept longer than one night, she thought with a shock. Surely she’d misheard Rachel. There was no way that Mandra’s establishment was still serving customers at this time.

The High Street was, for the first time in living memory, completely deserted. The citizens, those who had survived the attack, were either out at the fringes of the city helping with repairs to farms and property, or else were at home, grieving the disaster that had struck the city. Even from here, at the top of the large hill that held Milagre’s center, they could see the huge gap in the buildings. That was where the Attosian army had charged through, carving a direct path to the palace.

Time moved in a blur for Megan, so that they reached the inner wall in what felt like minutes. The damage of the fight was worst here, where countless powerful magic spells had rained down, eventually breaking the barrier down, and allowing the invaders access to the city proper. The ground was discolored everywhere they looked, either from the blood of the wounded or from damage caused in the fighting. But what Megan saw, and had not been expecting, was the massive crowd that was gathered here.

Thousands of people were gathered on the high street here, standing or sitting on the cobbles and creating a massive blockage. Just as peculiar, they all seemed to be in a great mood. There was food flowing freely among them, and many were devouring it, accompanied by drinks that were repeatedly raised in toasts. They looked like they were on holiday, Megan thought wildly.

“I imagine this makes no sense to you,” Rachel said in her ear. “I bet you don’t have this custom where you come from.”

Megan gave a little start that broke her free of Rachel’s arm. She turned to face her friend. Not her too, she thought. “How? Did Michael tell you?”

“Oh come on,” Rachel said, rolling her gorgeous brown eyes. “You really think you were that convincing? You’ve been odd since the day I met you. You knew phrases that were strange, you had weird names for everything, and you always seemed astonished by the most basic things.”

Megan gaped at her friend, stuck between surprise and indignation. She’d tried really hard to hide what she was. There was no way she could have been that obvious. No, she thought. Michael had to have told her secret. It was the only way. Rachel looked at her, realized that she was disbelieving, and rolled her eyes again. She pointed to the crowd.

“Fine then. Prove me wrong. What is this custom? Why are all these people here?”

Megan had nothing to say, which didn’t seem to surprise Rachel. A triumphant smirk crossed the girl’s face. “See? Now, I don’t know where you’re from, but it’s obviously not Ahya. I imagine that’s why Samuel’s been training you so personally. But forget it for now. You can tell me all about it later.”

She ushered Megan forward again, and the pair carefully picked their way through the crowd. Mandra’s Tavern was still standing, but of course, even it couldn’t escape some damage. The entire front side of the building was exposed, revealing the wafting scent of cooking throughout the air. Mandra’s cooking, Megan thought. The best in this world. Her stomach rumbled its agreement.

“Thought you’d be coming by around now,” a voice said from behind them. Megan turned without much surprise to see Samuel standing there. He’d discarded his elaborate robe in favor of a simple blue tunic rolled to the elbows and grey leggings, and he was holding two large bowls of stew. He extended them, and Megan and Rachel accepted them with quiet words of thanks.

“Won’t your wife and daughter miss you while you’re cooking for the masses, Lord Bragg?” Rachel said, smirking slightly. “Surely they’d prefer you be home after such a horrific battle.”

Samuel matched her smirk with a grin of his own, pointing with his now free right hand. “They’re right there. They insisted on helping out.”

Megan followed his pointing arm to see a beautiful elven woman with gray hair sitting on one of the few chairs in sight. She was talking animatedly to a group of children, who all sat spell-bound as she spun some tale for them. Their eyes were wide, and as she told a joke, they giggled and laughed, slapping their thighs.

“Presumably telling them about the time I fell into a moat,” Samuel said with a chuckle. “She only tells the embarrassing stories.”

Beside the woman was a little girl, who looked to be no more than seven or eight. She was holding an instrument and playing to the crowd, dancing with eerie lightness as she moved around. She had a wonderful singing voice, as well as fluffy red hair that bounced and flew with her movements, capturing the attention of her audience. Everyone she passed clapped their enthusiasm, and more toasts were raised in her honor.

“She’s gotten better with that lute,” Rachel commented. “She’s quite the genius.”

“Well, of course,” Samuel said, his broad grin still firmly in place. “She’s my daughter, after all.”

Rachel snorted with laughter, and Samuel turned on the spot, disappearing from view. “Cocky bastard.”

The crowd let out a particularly loud cheer then, and all eyes turned to face the new arrivals. Enri Ciayol, Captain of the Queen’s Guard, had appeared. He was also out of his armor, sporting a stiff white tunic and black pants. His silver hair gleamed brightly in the sunlight, as did his smile as he grasped hands all around. Beside him was Ehran Tokugawa, and his apprentice. Eric looked as tired as Megan, but he moved easily as he shook hands with the crowd, smiling shyly at their praise. Yet more toasts were made, in favor of the three men.

Eric made his way over to where Megan stood after he spotted her, continuing to smile and greet the people he passed. When he drew even with her, however, the smile faded from his face, and his shoulders drooped. Looking at him now, it seemed that just that simple walk was dangerously close to draining him completely. His dark blue tunic, complete with a wolf’s crest on the chest, was slightly damp with sweat as he hugged Megan.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels like they got stampeded,” he said quietly. As Megan made a quiet noise of agreement, he let out a weak chuckle. “Ehran told me that I have to attend this gathering. Do you know what it’s for?”

Megan could only offer a shrug, looking to Rachel for an explanation. “Well?”

“It’s to honor those who died,” Rachel said. Her eyes were locked on Eric, and she was frowning slightly. “We fill the space with joy and excitement so that the souls of the departed can pass in peace.”

Eric nodded thoughtfully at that. “So it’s like a happy vigil. I can respect that.”

“You’re different,” Rachel said bluntly. “I don’t mean like Megan. You’ve got a more natural feel to you. Are you a druid in your old world or something?”

Eric turned to Megan at the words, his eyebrows raised in question. When she offered him a resigned sort of shrug, he seemed to take all the meaning he needed. “Well, no. I don’t think there are any druids on Earth. But I did live in a very natural place, where there aren’t many people.”

“Earth?” Rachel wrinkled her nose. It was the same expression she got whenever Megan said or did something odd. “What a weird name for a planet.”

Eric arched an eyebrow. “No weirder than Ahya.”

“True,” Rachel admitted with a high laugh. “Alright. I like you. Come have some food.”

And so saying, she gripped him firmly by the elbow and dragged him towards the front of The Heron, where they were serving. Megan stood stunned for a moment, watching them move away, leaving her behind. Well, what was she supposed to do now? She took a few bites of the stew to give herself something to do and sat down on the cobbles at the very edge of the crowd.

“So he’s still alive.” Michael had appeared without her noticing. She glanced up to see him standing by her, his eyes focused on Rachel and Eric. “I wondered what became of him.”

Megan immediately frowned. “Michael, don’t you dare start any trouble.”

“I’m not going to!” Michael said, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I swear to you. I know how things stand now. I promise I’ll behave.”

Megan continued to squint at him for a few moments, then accepted his words. She patted the warm stone beside her. “Join me. Rachel says you were on patrol?”

“Yes,” he said with a heavy sigh, lowering himself to the ground. “Apparently there was a small force trying to sneak back into the city. Evidently, they wanted to assassinate Enri. Unfortunately for them, they met a battalion of Black Hands. They, err, didn’t last long. And that’s the end of that.”