Epilogue

Taylor Hanson was standing in a room. The walls were smooth gray brick. The bed was carved from a dark red wood, and the blankets hand woven. The colorful tapestries across the wall, and the smoldering fireplace indicated that she must be on a remnant island.

Something about the whole scene felt… strange. Surreal perhaps. It felt real enough, but maybe it wasn’t.

A little girl entered the room. She paid Taylor no mind. It was like she wasn’t even there. The girl had long blonde hair that was loose and flowed down her back, and down to her ankles. Her eyes were the brightest blue. She hopped into bed, working her way under the covers, and scooped up her teddy bear.

There was the sound of footsteps, and a woman followed after the girl. She was stunningly gorgeous, her hair the same color, her skin pale, and spotless. She wore a silver dress that clung to her slim figure. She sat down at the edge of the bed stroking her daughters hair.

The woman still wore her crown. A small tiara of silver atop her braided hair. She leaned down and kissed the girl on the cheek. When it happened, Taylor felt it. She felt soft lips, could smell the warm smell of spiced wine on the woman’s breath.

Her mother spoke gentle words. Words of reassurance. Words of comfort, and safety. Taylor couldn’t remember them, so they came out like distant whispers. As the woman started to pull away, the little girl reached up and pulled her in for one last, tight hug.

Taylor hugged herself, biting her lip, and trying her best not to cry. She watched her mother go, the door closing behind her with a click. The younger version of Taylor yawned with a squeak, and closed her eyes.

She was tired, so tired.

Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, it was soft, and inviting, in a way that none of her beds had ever felt since. She took the little girls hand.

“They took you away from me,” Taylor’s lip trembled, and she wiped at her eyes with the palm of her hand. They… the bakiri had taken this little girl’s future. They had taken her home. Her family. Her city. They had even taken her memories.

“But I remember now,” Taylor spoke, sniffing. Her eyes began to glow, illuminating the room as if she was touching a magic crystal. “And I’m going to find a way to get you back.”

Then everything went black. The room, the bed, the girl, was all gone.

Then Taylor hit the ground. Coins and jewels chimed as they scattered around her. The floor felt like it was freezing, and her breath fogged. She heard the clank of boots, and the shuffling of footsteps. The sound of claws scraping stone. That was when the pain hit. Taylor winced, clutching at the shoulder where she’d been stabbed.

“Mystroe,” Steven called out. He was looking up to the peak of one of the treasure mountains. There sat a bakiri atop a broken stone throne.

It was a bakiri with black scales, and green eyes. Unlike the other bakiri, he wore a cream-colored robe, and brown leather armor. He sat straight, with good posture, his tail wrapping around at his feet. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t gravelly, or rough. It was clean, clear, and enunciated. The only thing that gave away his status as a monster were the little clicks of his teeth, and the clamping of his jaws.

“Welcome, little princess,” Mystroe stretched out his arms in welcome. “Welcome to what was, and what will once again be your city.”

He stood, coins spilling as he stepped down. He walked towards her, his hands clasped behind his back, and it wasn’t until he got close that she realized just how tall he was. She was in his shadow, and he had to tilt his head down to look at her, his green eyes narrowing.

“And when your city does return,” he said. “I will finally, finally burn it to the ground. Once and for all.”