Leona woke up with a start.

She looked around wearily, wincing as pain shot through her body,

She found that she was back in her room, back in Kezta Frasika. Leona was startled to see her sword at her feet.

Leona tumbled out of the bed, heart racing furiously, and fumbling with the sword as she buckled it around her waist on top of the nightgown she wore.

She fidgeted with the doorknob and saw that her hands and arms were bandaged. Her sight swam before her as she swung the door open.

Leona looked around the empty corridor, sunlight streamed through the windows. It was morning, but she didn’t know what day it was, and how long it was since they had returned from their triumph at Neizagaard.

Leona winced as she remembered her now deceased grandfather and wondered where they might have held the wake.

She began to call out to her companions, and wondered if Evra was fine, and if the other officers made it out of the island alive. Her thoughts were distracted as Nareana skittered to a halt a few feet in front of her.

A wide smile stretched upon the child’s face as she ran into Leona’s open arms.

Leona smiled as she held the little girl tightly.

“I was so worried!” Nareana squealed, “I told you that you needed me. You would have died.”

Leona frowned, and then remembered Nareana’s sudden appearance and disappearance in the dungeons of Neizagaard.

“What were you doing in Neizagaard? Who did you tag along with? And where did you go afterwards?”

There were so many questions that she wanted to ask the strange child. Nareana giggled adorably and poked Leona’s nose.

“Follow your heart,” she said simply. Leona frowned, getting more confused with each word the child uttered.

“What do you mean?” Leona asked. Nareana put her little hand to her lips.

She laughed shrilly and scrambled out of Leona’s arms and ran back to where she came from shouting, “She’s awake! She’s awake!”

Follow my – heart?”

Then a thought struck her, she should’ve recognized the signs that presented themselves in front of her for a long time.

The time when Nareana came up to her in the inn and called her Shaeryva, the strange feeling she had when she thought she needed to take Nareana with her, the voice of the woman in her head when she ran from the catacombs under the island; telling her to follow her heart, and Nareana running into her in Skegmarr in that dazzling flash of light. Not to mention their obvious resemblance to each other, it all made sense to her now.

Nareana is – my Heart…

She was brought back to her senses as Nareana returned dragging Jarael by the hand. Tavus and Evra came hurriedly after them.

A smile broke over Jarael’s perfect features, a rare expression from someone so reserved as he was. For a moment, Leona found Jarael dizzyingly handsome.

“Leona!” he called out, taking her into his arms and swinging her around. He kissed her forehead as she put her back on the floor.

Leona smiled brightly at all of them.

Tavus walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her. Leona flushed. “I – was – horrified.”

He faced her with worry etched across his face.

“We were already out of the fortress when the volcano erupted. I was so scared because I knew you were still inside.”

He cocked his head to Jarael’s direction and said quietly, “At least Jarael got you out of there on time.”

Leona beamed up at the Giraj and smiled.

“Saved me again in the nick of time,” she said, “Where in U’tröthka would I be now without you, Jarael?”

Jarael drew himself up in his full height.

“I’m your guardian,” he said plainly, “it is my duty to --,”

Jarael stopped as Leona stood on tiptoe and lightly kissed his cheek. Tavus cleared his throat, Evra laughed.

“I think we’ve had enough jealousy to last the entire day,” Evra said, patting Tavus on the shoulder and taking Leona’s hand.

“You better get dressed now,” she said blissfully, “The King will be appearing to the entire population of the fey in an hour.”

Leona smiled and hurried back to her room.

“Where did they take my grandfather? And where’s grandma?” Leona asked Tavus and Jarael half an hour later as they made their way to the central atrium. Nareana sat in Jarael’s arms, again playing with his hair.

“When we returned from Neizagaard three days ago, we found out that Olfragh followed us here in Kezta Frasika after he found out about our location,” Tavus said, “He said that he was supposed to go with us to Skegmarr but when he arrived, we’ve already left. So when we returned here, he offered to take Zerr Selia with him for the time being in Faimeh. The wake will be held there. We’ll be going there too after the King has given us the permission to do so…”

Leona looked down at her skirt in dismay. She didn’t even have the chance to talk with her grandmother even for a short while…

They arrived at the central atrium and marveled at the crowd gathered there, happily going about their own business and talking excitedly of the King’s return. They bowed down towards Leona as their little group entered the hall. Leona nodded in return.

The sight of the army officers reminded Leona of Captain Erfla.

“Where is he anyway?” she asked them, “Has he come back?”

Just then, Evra returned with Prolopa. A long procession of servants and soldiers followed them in an orderly manner. At the end of the procession was a small yet highly-decorated litter carried by four soldiers.

King Jamori sat inside, back in his former splendor. A beautiful crown of twisted silver birch twigs shone magnificently on his green head.

The fey in the atrium burst into a raucous applause and followed the litter as they went out the ornate gateway through the golden orchard.

Leona and the others kept close to the end of the procession. The faeries didn’t seem to mind, they had no reason not to celebrate that joyous occasion.

The applause was even more thunderous as the King was brought to the balcony for the entire fey to see. The King tried at several attempts to speak, only to be constantly drowned by the roar of the crowds below.

After several minutes the crowds quieted down and the King was able to address them.

“Kezta Frasika,” he said in a booming voice despite his short stature, “I have been deeply blessed to be here, in front of you, once more after more than nine centuries of imprisonment.”

The fey burst into another deafening applause. The King smiled and waited for the applause to quiet down once more.

“I would have perished in the hands of Ramadak’s sons if it wasn’t for the valiant show of bravery from a being of such immense power.”

He waved his hand around and smiled at Leona. “Come, bright one,” he said quietly.

Evra took Leona’s hand and led her towards her father-in-law.

Leona was momentarily blinded by the strong glare of morning sunlight. When her eyes had grown accustomed to the light, she saw that gigantic flowers rose from the Valley below, towering higher than the falls and blossomed into different colors, showering the grounds below with a soft rain of lush petals.

Leona gaped at the marvelous display as the King took her hand and held it high into the air (which only lifted Leona’s hand a little past her head).

“Fey, this is the divine being that freed me and the other prisoners from our infernal confinements. Let us all, faery and human alike, give our worship to the Radiant Dawn!”

Leona blushed as everyone, even the King, bowed before her. And after a few moments they all straightened up again. King Jamori took Leona’s hands into his own.

“I am forever indebted to your service, bright one,” he said, tears glittering in his fierce black eyes, “you can be assured, that when the battle of Erwaddi recommences, we will be your allies, and our forces are all for your and Ramorgra’s service. Be assured of that, bright one.”

A spark of hope leapt in Leona’s heart, the mark on her chest shone gold in the sun.

“I cannot thank you enough, your highness,” she said breathlessly. King Jamori shook his head.

“No. I cannot thank you enough. With this, I will give to you a relic. An artifact to help you with the forthcoming battle…”

Leona’s heart leapt as the King put his hands over his heart.

His armor glowed pink under his hands and as he opened his palms, a small piece of silver glimmered in his hands.

He held it out to the people for everyone to see.

It seemed like a disc. Only that it more looked like a quarter of a disc. King Jamori held the glittering silver trinket out to Leona.

“The gods have been sealed in their eternal slumber inside their chambers in the sacred Mountains of the Erwaddi. This is one of the four keys bestowed upon the four races of Ramorgra that will free the gods from their stupor.

“I, the King of the Faeries, chosen by the gods, hereby give it to you, the Harbinger of Peace, to aid you in our constant battle to free our world of evil.”

Leona was overwhelmed as she held out her hands toward the Key.

The Key hovered above her palm for a moment as visions flashed through Leona’s line of sight.

Bright sunlight. Green, leafy boughs. A cool wind. The warm touch of caring. And a little boy smiling down at her with striking blue eyes. Silver feathers. The swaying of little hands…

Leona’s eyes snapped open and found out that everyone was looking at her. Her face flushed with embarrassment. The Key had disappeared within her.

“I’m sorry about that,” she meekly said. The King smiled at her.

“You’ve had a glimpse of your memories?” he said quietly, Leona gaped at him in shock.

My memories? She thought. But the King had turned his back on her and was talking of something about an heir.

“… Thus, from this day forward, I am bestowing the crown to my only heir, Prince Erfla Greenhaven,” he waved his hand behind him. But as everybody knew, Erfla will never come. No applause erupted from the crowds.

“He has fled, your highness,” Evra said quietly, the King’s face darkened.

“What? Why? When? Nobody has told me!” he told her. An uneasy silence, broken by hushed whispers, wafted through the crowd as Evra explained the events of Reanitchka’s plot to take over Kezta Frasika, and of the Captain being an accomplice…

“A coward born from my flesh and my bone!” King Jamori exclaimed, his old chest heaved as he murmured to himself over the vine-strewn balustrade.

Finally, he straightened up and said in a loud voice.

“Nevertheless,” he boomed, “My – son’s ta-um remained and served her duty as a faery faithful to her kingdom and to our cause. A woman of such untold strength, courage and wisdom.

“That is why I, King Jamori the six-hundred-and-seventy-sixth, pass on the royal birch crown of the fey to your princess, who, from now on, shall be known as Queen Evra Greenhaven!”

Leona and the other applauded at the news, so did the rest of the fey as they exploded in even louder cheers.

Evra flushed pink as blood rushed under her white skin.

Never did she think that she, once a faery without a family wandering and fending for herself in the Valley, would now rule as the island’s new monarch.

She flushed as her father-in-law took off the dainty crown from his head and placed it upon hers.

Evra, still dumbstruck, now faced her new kingdom. Her father-in-law smiled and muttered something to her, gripped her hands and let go of them to face Leona and the others.

“What would you wish then, bright one? You have done so much for the whole of Kezta Frasika. We would want to repay your bravery in any way possible.”

Leona looked from Jarael and Tavus, to Nareana, finally to Queen Evra speaking for the first time to her people.

She smiled at her memories of Kezta Frasika, and said to the old King.

“We would like to go home, back to the mainland, your highness.”