Abruptly, Stylla embraced Skullius. That very human gesture lessened the grandeur of Suzamete's and Luserus' arrival. Because of it, even Theurien didn't seem to acknowledge it. His heart was still melting from his daughter's mental recovery.

The Deities watched in silence, allowing the moment to simmer to its peak. Skullius embraced Stylla as well. Holding her, memories of those days when he became a mercenary, when he went on his first mission with Stylla, Bron, and Fore, hit him. It would seem there were many things he was leaving behind, but at least those things – human or otherwise – were strong enough to endure.

Stylla was stronger than she'd ever been, and she'd only continue to grow.

'She's not like Mohrane and Quillith at all, but her potential will take her places for sure,' Skullius thought as he drew away from her.

Stylla was wiping away tears.

"I don't care what it is that made me choose you back then – Direction, whims, or luck. I'm glad I did," she said, smiling.

Skullius smiled back. 'Those things have more in common than you think.' He kept that fresh revelation to himself.

Turning from Stylla, he extended his hand to Theurien. The man, taken aback, hesitated only for a second before shaking it. The gesture was more meaningful to him than any words, Skullius knew, thus he didn't say anything beyond it.

That wouldn't be true for Silrat, though. Far from it.

"You're awfully composed," said Skullius, slapping the man's shoulder no gentler than a human would pet an ant. "I thought you'd be a bit more sentimental about our parting."

"I'm not made for tears, unfortunately," said the former Guild Association Head. "Fear, terror, and despair, yes, but not tears." He gave a heavy sigh. "You will return, right?"

"Of course."

"Promise? Why don't we make sure with a Tie of Exchange?"

The two men laughed.

To Skullius, it almost seemed like yesterday when Silrat had saved him from that prison following his (Skullius') trial for the destruction of a library in Inhone City. He'd been the first human to forge a Tie of Exchange with him, which allowed him (Skullius) to skirt the dreadful consequences of his curse, UNCoddled. Back then, Skullius could never have called Silrat a friend, but now…

"You'd better pick up your pace, brother. Grow stronger so you can live long enough for me to see me return," said Skullius with a solemn look.

"How could I not? Ferex allowed me a chance to participate in a high-level fight earlier. It was… thrilling." Silrat glowed with excitement. "It didn't last long, but it stirred something in me. I'll rebuild the Guilds Association and give it as much significance and power as the Severed Union or better. That ought to give you something to look forward to."

"There you go. I will be looking forward to that. I expected nothing short of the best." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

They gave each other a tight, warm grip on the forearm. It meant more than an embrace to brothers.

Only then did Suzamete step in.

<You have matters to settle in Opungale, I assume. Let us accompany you.>

"Yeah."

Skullius gave a last wave to Theurien, Stylla, and Silrat before warping away with the Deities. They reached Opungale in an instant. Amanas' shadow had been left behind.

The land of the Sif was sprawling with green. Skullius could sense the dense pure mana from it like a particularly cold wind around him. It was a few times richer than on Feinheath because of the vegetation. The Sif treated grasses like siblings, and the trees like cousins, never cutting or pruning them without purpose. (The Mages had restored even this fact about Opungale as it was.)

Skullius had just begun wondering if this gave room for more Sacred Forests to be created when two figures warped next to him, only ten seconds after he and the Deities had reached Opungale.

"Just in time," said Skullius to the two, and then he eyed Remos. "I was curious about your choice."

The Arch-Mage lowered his head respectfully. A defiant fire still limned his eyes, but he wasn't foolish enough to lance it against Skullius. Indeed, he had made his choice.

"I am yours," he said. "My soul defies it, but my Direction is drawn to you… I think. I will learn to serve you faithfully."

Skullius chuckled. He loved the honesty. For Remos, it trumped his pride. A lesser man would not have had the gall to say what the Mage had just said. A few months ago, Remos had been Skullius' superior, but their ranks were reversed now. The Mage knew there was a benefit to acknowledging that, even if it meant scarring his ego.

"Very well." Skullius looked up to the other arrival. "Why didn't you go up to Amanas?"

"Ahaha, please," said Sause with a playful grin. "I want to see everything that comes before the journey ahead. You have a knack for making even the mundane very interesting."

Sause and the Arch-Mage had warped to Skullius at the same time, but it was only coincidental. They were coming from two different locations.

Skullius shook his head, but he was ever glad to have someone who didn't act stiff in his presence. "Fair enough. Follow along then."

He led the way towards Guuardfell, which was only a common man's stone throw away. The High Family was already waiting on the threshold – the Queen, King, Darwel's siblings, and Darwel herself with her children – along with Erlton the Reader and Aingor, the Heralds. No other Sif was in sight. They weren't worthy. (At least the High Family had decided that.)

Darwel was beaming at Skullius before he was even ten meters close. Looking at her filled the Hybrid with the same sentiment he'd felt when speaking to Silrat.

<You left Aigas with plenty of potential. We won't waste it – especially not the souls you left behind for us. Even the weak won't come to harm. I have plans to revise the Rules and all protections for Aigas' denizens.> Suzamete must have sensed his worries, hence her words.

Skullius gave her a nod.

"I know."

And he did. But he wasn't just worried about any foe attacking Aigas. The Primeval Deities…

'I have left several assurances against them, especially for Quillith and Mohrane's sake, but…' Skullius thought, and his eyes landed on his sons. They were already reaching for him, rising into the air and floating over.

His stiff face softened.

'It will have to be enough.'