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Nostalgia, Delight, Bliss, Cruelty, Shame, Fear, Suspicion, Shock, Pride, Spite, and Grief.

Though many are missing, too. The ones who have fallen, their lifeless forms scattered amidst the wreckage. Among them: Anticipation, Disgust, Calmness, Sympathy, Triumph, and so many more.

The rest stare, speechless and…awestruck? That’s a strange reaction for what just happened. Or perhaps it isn’t.

If two deities can choose love over lust, they’ll become a force of influence, along with those closest to them.

Once more, Envy glimpses Sorrow’s countenance, a radical sensation cinching around his heart. He can only describe it as endless, without shapes or borders, a hybrid of placid waters and rushing rapids.

That’s not all. Envy inspects the faces of his friends.

Love’s raven-haired mischief and curiosity.

The minty scent of Andrew’s purity, tenaciousness, and selflessness.

The turbulent passion and resilience of Anger, whose olive complexion has blanched from the wound swathed in Envy’s shirt; the stubborn trooper had risked his blood-clotted gash, in order to make it out here.

The unapologetic spirit of Merry, with her theatrical blush and dazzling eyes.

The museful, inquiring, and forgiving nature of Wonder, with her wildflower corsage pinned close to the scars that Envy and his friends had unwillingly made.

The diabolical intellect and ferocious devotion of Malice, his blond waves encapsulating the visage of a devil.

Strung together like this, the experience is sweetly prismatic, forged of plentiful colors and every emotion Envy has ever known. This is what it means to belong to others. And that’s when he realizes what each of them mean to him.

We’re family.

That’s what Merry had said. That’s what they are.

They’re messy. They didn’t ask to be bunched together, and they’ve sometimes made the worst of it, but they’ve usually made the best of it. They’ve done awful things to each other. They’ve done precious things to each other. They’ve given and taken. They’ve been threats and saviors. They’ve behaved conditionally and unconditionally. They haven’t been perfect, but they’re still here, protecting one another.

That’s love.

In the middle of this lake, at the heart of the Peaks, this is love in its many facets. The love of friendship, family, and passion. Perhaps this is the final key, with Envy and Sorrow choosing love over lust, choosing to grab one another under a perilous sky rather than stay apart.

Their destiny. Their decision.

And perhaps that kindled the domino effect, with their friends joining in.

Each of them, foolish and selfish and vicious. Each of them, fragile and susceptible. Each of them, strong and weak. Each of them, flawed by their mistakes. Each of them, empowered by their victories.

Each of them, created by destiny and led by decisions. Each of them, touched and torn and tempted and transcended.

Each of them, no better or worse than humans. Each of them, connected with mortality. Each of them, so very alike.

This is what they’d had to do—unite beneath the falling stars, brave the onslaught as one, and prove that love is power. It’s magic unto itself. It can move worlds and conquer battles, and it can survive.

Perhaps this has mollified the celestials’ wrath. Perhaps this is what it takes to inspire, to understand there is no hierarchy between deities and humans.

Creating an equilibrium isn’t about redefining these things. It’s not about finding a middle ground between separate entities.

There is no middle ground. They’re not separate at all.

They’re one and the same.

To strike a balance, is to understand that fate and free will are one power. They’re two sides of the same coin. Knowing that, understanding that, and embracing that is the key.

Disarmed, the rulers wade through the water, their gowns and cloaks trailing moonlit puddles behind them. Nodding with Envy’s group, who spread out to let them join the circle, the ring broadens like a much-needed breath. Though Envy keeps Sorrow close, strapping his arms around her midriff.