It took three days for the fae and humans to find their young and get everyone settled.

On the third day, Cybelline walked toward the Fae Tree, she smiled and felt its power. Before it had been a vast river in her mind, its powers overwhelming and yet she had gained mastery over time.

But now it was hair thin in comparison to her new powers. She raised her hand, "It's time, old friend. Time to grow."

The earth shook and roared, as the tree started to burst with growth, its trunk expanded as its roots dug deep into the earth.

Buildings crumbled as walls that had been build by the fae in forced labor came crumbling down. Cybelline felt the rich growth of the tree and knew that it was time. This land of the Fae would be same yet different, it would not just be the home of the fae and folk once more, but a gateway to the Dominion.

The tree towered over all trees and swayed in the wind. Cybelline looked at her finger and saw the glowing, faint markings of the ring. She smiled, "Yes, it's time you come out too."

She knelt by the earth and whispered, "Grow."

The land rumbled and slowly began to expand. Cybelline fed the land of the ring into the the land. The maps of the realms were to look a lot different as cartographers would shake their hands and wonder how an entire realm suddenly showed up overnight. Borders had be be redrawn as the mysterious land of the Fae and Folk reappeared. The giant Fae tree was a signal that the rise of the fae was imminent.

Cybelline turned back to the fae, "You are free to go home."

At those words the Fae felt for the first time, the connection to their land once more. The young who had never known what home felt like stepped on the earth and took a deep sigh. They had never felt that sense of belonging until now. They had never know what a true home felt like.

In the east were the dwarf mountains, the west was great woods of the Dryads, the North was the home of the Ice and Air fae, the south the fire fae. This great land had appeared once more, their land beckoned.

Their magic flowed back into their veins, as the broken circle healed itself. The fae, having lost their queen, their home, and their source had been greatly weakened. Now, the warriors returned to full glory.

Leonmithas felt the rush of power and turned into the great Ice Phoenix. His cry could be heard for miles, ushering the new era as the fae returned home.

Oqir and Kima raised their hands and columns of earth shot towards the sky, and they laughed in joy.

The fire fae looked at the different fae and quietly flew towards the south, their fae leader was dead. They were happy to have their power back, but it would be a long time before they smiled.

Beric turned to look at Isthan and Ceric. Power enveloped their bodies as they grew taller and became stronger.

Ceric's hair turned golden as his ears grew sharp and pointed. He felt the power of the air course through his veins. When he saw what he looked like, he gasped. He was a Air Fae, a slyph.

Isthan and Berin both grew as well, one imbued with water powers and the other with fire. They smiled, they had finally grown into young men, just like Ryion.

Myrai held onto Ithos as they watched the boys grow and turn into adults, joy unrestrained on their faces. Suddenly, Myrai buried her face in Ithos's shirt.

Cybelline went towards them and frowned, 'What's the matter?"

Ithos's youthful face showed heartbreak, "Miri...she's gone."

Cybelline's eyes darkened, as Ithos continued, "She chose to sacrifice herself to protect us."

Cybelline closed her eyes as Killian came to take her hand, "She was brave in the end." He said to her gently.

Cybelline turned to Ithos, "Tell me everything."

---

Londaros

The king was in a terrible mood and all the servants were terrified. He had reached londaros in a matter of hours and had shut himself in the main hall. His advisors had been fighting with him since he arrived.

"My lord, you might not have the tree of life, but you have something that's equally good..." One man said. They smiled, "With it you could live a thousand years, maybe even two. If you allow us to make it into a potion, you could have a long reign as king! A good thing for all of us in Londaros. You are strong and young. Two thousand years, and by then we could find a way to make you immortal. A god."

That was what he wanted, wasn't it? He wanted to be a god.

Jasreth stared at the golden halls, his mind wandering in that moment. Back to when she lived.

"Won't you try it? It's my favorite!" Miri's smile was dazzling as she offered the fruit to him. Her light blue robes like pristine crystals, billowing in the wind as she offered a bright red fruit. The smooth lines and curves of that slender hand unblemished by the blood of battle.

She disappeared as he reached for her hand.

Another image, her, lying in his arms, her clothes dyed with blood, a smile on her lips.

He had screamed her name then, ordering her not to die.

She had smiled then, smiled that same bright smile, touched his cheek and whispered, "The saddest goodbye is not when the one you love dies."

He didn't understand it then and he didn't understand it now.

"Majesty" The high whine of the servant's voice pulled him out of his reverie.

"Sire, you must eat." The whine again.

Jasreth frowned.

No, she's dead. He reminded himself. Those were just the silly words of a dying woman. He tried to reassure himself as he had done these long endless days and even longer nights. He was not sad. How could he be when he had the world at his feet? He was still the king.

No, he was just bothered by the loss of conquest. No matter, he would be able to find the Fae Tree again. Maybe with that power he would drag her soul back into her body. The body that he had preserved with his power, that now lay in the palace she once lived.

He would do it. He would bring her back and chain her to his side.

The servant looked at his master. In the grand and empty room, there was only him and his master. A grand table with fifty dishes were set before him. Yet the king made no move to eat. He had not eaten since that day on the battlefield.

All servants had been forbidden to go into the room, all dancing girls and mistresses were told that on the pain of death they were to never show their faces to their lord.

"Sire. You haven't been slept well or eaten since you came back. You must take more care of your royal body."

Jasreth frowned, he shook his head, "Bring me something else."

The servant bowed and ordered new dishes to be made immediately.

Golden dishes were refilled. A dish made out of blood red crystal stood in the center. Inside was roasted boar. The aroma filled the entire room.

The servant placed a piece of meat into the King's dish, "Majesty, this comes from Royal Mistress Gauria's own kitchen. She heard you were not well."

Jasreth frowned. Who was that? He couldn't even remember the face of the woman that went along with it. In fact, since he returned he had looked at the faces of all women, he could not remember what they looked like.

He could not stand any of them, not even their fragrance.

Only one face now showed up in his dreams. Miri. Her face. Her voice. It haunted his every moment.

His eyes looked at the table again. The bright colors and vast richness of the food. He frowned.

His hand rose, the servant's eyes lit in anticipation.

A moment later the entire table flew several feet into the air and landed with a crash. Expensive and rare dishes turned into worthless shards as they hit the ground.

The servant fell to his knees, "My Lord!"

The king turned to look at the servant coldly, "The Queen has died. The nation should be mourning. From today onward no one in the nation is to eat any meat, in observance with the traditions of royal mourning. Kill anyone who disobey, take that Gauria woman and throw her out of the palace on grounds of disrespect.

With a turn, the king disappeared.

He wandered like a ghost. Past the golden buildings glowing with warmth. Past the bright lanterns and the sounds of laughter and music.

Each part of the palace seemed to hold untold beauty. As the women heard their lord was home and wanted to put on a show as lavish as possible to lure him into their beds.

But the sounds was mockery to his ears. The noise seemed to pierce his mind, driving the vision of her out. They were trying to drown out her laughter and her touch. His eyes glistened with hatred.

"Throw anyone who is laughing into the dungeons, break their bones if they argue." He ordered. "They've disrespected their queen." The servant paled, but bowed to do his bidding.

Soon the sounds of screams filled the air. Cries of pain and terror swallowed the palace.

He fled.

He wandered until he reached a part of the palace that seemed unusually quiet. The lanterns that led to the residence were unlit, the walls unadorned without any hints of color or life. It was as if a hand had closed over this part of the palace and cut it off from the world.

His feet took him where his mind dared not go.

Her palace. His home. And now her tomb.

She is not worth what you have now, he reminded himself callously, you have everything you want. A nation, power. What is one woman?

The doors swung soundlessly as he pushed against them.

A light scent filled his lungs and for the first time in a long time, he felt as if he could breath.

He walked into the garden, her garden that she had rebuilt. It was otherworldly and beautiful. The new growth of spring was starting, with green buds peaking out of the grey branches. The garden between life and death.

He looked at the one exception. The Winter Plum tree, with its bright red fruit hanging from the branches. The vision of her danced into his view.

"Won't you have one? I find they are the best after the last snow." The ghost of her voice called to him as he plucked one of the bright red fruits.

He remembered the taste. Tangy and sweet. And so rich in fragrance. Her fragrance.

She had smelled like the coming of spring and the last snow.

He was hungry then, it had been days since he ate anything. Suddenly, it was the only thing he wanted in the world.

He placed the fruit between his lips, eager for the sweetness to come.

He bit into the fruit and closed his eyes.

From the part that touched it tongue, the taste spread like wildfire, burning into every part of his body. He shuddered as the bitterness ran like a flood, closing his throat and choking his senses.

Bitter... so bitter that he could not bear it another moment longer.

He spat, trying to get the taste out of his mouth, but it clung to his tongue, its claws ripping into his flesh and sinking its hooks into his stomach.

He retched violently but could not get rid of the taste.

Letting the fruit drop from his hands he glared at the tree, heavy with the ripe fruit.

He lifted a finger, and like rain, all the fruit fell, a rain of red in the grey palace.

He raised his hand again but stopped, unable to destroy the tree that she had planted.

Instead, he turned to towards the rooms that she once lived.

Her body was in that room, silent and frozen. He had protected her body from decay with his power so that he could come and see her whenever he pleased.

He walked up the steps and pushed open the door into the dark and icy room

His eyes flash in irritation and his fingers twitched, candles lit in an instant.

He walked towards the dais where her body lain. Beautiful. She was radiant even in death. Her skin like the finest white jade and her lips like ripened peach.

He reached out a hand to touch her, to trace the lovely skin.

Muttering to himself, "When I have enough power I will find your soul and you will smile for me. You will always be by my side. We will be gods."

In his pocket was the key to his long life. He must use it, he must live to see her be his once more.

As soon as his hand reached towards her, touching the magical barrier he created, it rippled. The magic seemed to be disintegrating.

He frowned as he fed the barrier more of his power.

Suddenly it began to shake violently and shattered. The magical explosion knocked him back several paces. He stared at her body with disbelief. Her body had began to glow.

She began to disintegrate into light before his very eyes.

"No!" He cried and lunged forward.

They shied away from is grasp and flowed like a river towards the open courtyard.

He screamed like an enraged animal, throwing a magical net around the pale lights. But it was no use, they passed through his power.

"No! You are mine!" He roared and tried again. Rushing out of the room after the glittering thing as it flew westward.

The step of her door tripped him and he landed, sprawling into the yard, onto the harsh wintery floor, staring at the last river of her existence as rushed away from him.

The golden figure of the warrior King, in all his splendor tumbled onto the ground, his billowing robes fluttering as it settled with the withered leaves and fallen flowers.

"No... please. Please don't leave me." He whispered as the river became fainter and fainter.

He reached out a shaking hand, "Come back." His voice was nothing above a whisper.

The horror he had kept at bay came at him with full force. Never again would he see her smile or hear her voice. Never would she dance with the fireflies or sing under the moon.

She wouldn't entwine her fingers around his hand or sigh his name.

"No, no, no, no, no..." He whispered. He roared, "NO!" and flew into the sky, searching for the traces of the sparks.

He found nothing.

Soon, his power depleted and he fell back to earth in a crumpled heap. Back into that garden that no longer held meaning. His life no longer held meaning. He thought he could be a god but now the thought of a life without her was too much to bear.

He lay there, his body, mind, and soul numb, his golden robes now streaked with mud.

He finally realized that without her he could not eat nor sleep. He was not fit to rule. She had gone away and left him, and this was hell. He gently took out a glass vial from his robes and stared at the contents. Then he let his hand and the vial fall back to his chest. This was all he had of her. This was the key to a long life without her.

"I was wrong..." he whispered as he took laid there, staring at the stars. The cold enveloped him as he realized there was nothing to live for.

The bright red berries that had fallen when he struck the tree now rolled to him, carried by the breeze of the coming spring.

He held onto them now, their skin the color of blood and their taste of bitterness on his tongue.