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Epilogue

A small celebration took place in Kamine’s village. Her father helped her set up tables and chairs outside for her cohort. Grimot used his one arm to lift chairs, even as her father scolded him. Kamine just chuckled.

Damien carried bundles of wildflowers that he had picked. Kamine placed them into vases, and distributed them across the various tables.

Kamine put her hands on her hips, assessing everything. Villagers had all brought forth their thanks by cooking meals that Kamine would happily share with her cohort and friends. There was a plethora of potatoes, steamed vegetables coated in butter and garlic, sausages, and more. Even with the overabundance of food, she knew that the others would eat every bit of it up after eating mushy gruel, and dry, flavorless food for months.

A hand wrapped around her waist from behind. Grimot rested his head on her shoulder.

“It looks delicious.”

“They deserve it,” she said.

After Kamine confirmed that Grimot was alive and well, she went back to the school the next day to pack up her things.

The others were there, too. They spent the night in one of the lounge rooms, recounting their Undertaking and everything that happened before they reached Kamine’s village and found the Heart together.

Lycaster had brought too many bottles of wine that they all indulged in, and the whole occasion was relaxing and fun. The weight of her Undertaking was now lifted, but too was the weight of her resentment towards her mother. Kamine felt refreshed and light. She would never forgive the Weather Gods for forcing its people through such a tortuous event each year, but at least she now knew it was possible to change the trajectory of the game.

That was Kamine and Grimot’s plan for next year, and beyond. Even handicapped, he could still perform magic, so he would continue to teach—having found a new passion for helping the newest cohort members, his purpose for teaching no longer brimmed with guilt and anger. Plus, having one less arm would only make it easier to prove how someone didn’t need to use their hands to make their powers work, Grimot had explained to her as they lay in bed together one night. Kamine, on the other hand, would join as an instructor for the newly appointed strategy and teamwork class.

Kamine would hate to be trapped in the dark school for months every year, but she was willing to make that sacrifice to ensure that lives were saved. It was time to reframe how the Undertaking was viewed in the Thunder Court. It was more than just a game. Lives were at stake.

Headmaster Dritoria had loved the idea. Kestra had only said that the Weather Gods did not like to be played with. Kamine suspected that Kestra didn’t like that the cohort had succeeded, and that Grimot supported Kamine. Though Grimot voiced his own concerns as well. He believed the Gods would take their revenge on the Thunder Court at some point. But for now, all was well, and Kamine wouldn’t harp on what-ifs.

“You did it,” he kissed her cheek.

“ We did it,” she said, pleased with everything the last months had brought her.

“They’re coming,” he said.

She turned her gaze over to the hill, where the group of people she would always be connected with, who would always have a piece of her heart like they had hers, came to gather together once more.