For her st morning as a regur mortal, it’d gone so… Quietly. Maia and Aymanah woke up at the Galnt, and she had a throbbing headache- all she’d had was one ale! How lightweight can she be!! She sure hopes Nostalgia doesn’t give headaches, if she gets to sip from it when she shares an abode with Death. Aymanah seemed as fit as a fiddle too, so she felt especially embarrassed as she tugged her hood down a little more.

  Grisilde had warned them that rumors about Maia had circuted around the city overnight.“They’ll be looking for the godsyer. Most out of admiration, some out of anger; the barracks are apparently in chaos… Their god being killed by a ‘cowardly surprise attack’ is obviously a little disorienting. I don’t think you’re going to get shanked if you go out, but you should probably be careful.”The proprietress eyes Maia up and down while she miserably chugs down water to try and wash out the headache, just chuckling to herself.

  “Although they might shank you when they find out you, the godsyer, got a hangover from one tankard of ale. What are you anyway? Got some godsblood in you like Homer? Death doesn’t spread that stuff around easily, though, or so they all say.”

  Maia looks up to the tavernkeep with her hazy, tired eyes, and manages to smile just a little.“All I have from her is her love, and that seems to have been enough.”

  Grisilde blinks and then ughs, shaking her head.“If the love of a woman was all it took to kill a god, we’d be a nd without them soon enough! Some would prefer that, I think…”

  Such bsphemy just made Maia ugh now. She would’ve been scandalized before, but the world has changed, and she alongside it. She’s just going to leave Grisilde to her own musings and get off the stool, bag slung over her shoulder. She didn’t have many belongings worth taking with her; a spare robe, and so on… She’d passed most of her things onto Aymanah, so that they could settle in more peacefully.

  “Going to go see Homer one st time?”

  Maia nods her head.

  “One st time, since I promised. It’ll cut into my time a little, but it should be fine. Death’s awaiting for me at the cathedral.”

  So she’d spend her morning here, walk Aymanah to the Academia Verdant, say her goodbyes to them there and then go and see Homer at the hospice, which would lead to meeting with Death. A little sad that the group couldn’t gather together for final goodbyes and a celebration, but-

  this was fine too, wasn’t it?it wouldn’t be the st time they saw each other.

  “Do you know how to write, Maia?”

  Grisilde’s little interjection was so out of left field that she came to a pause, but she meekly nodded. The proprietress proceeds to wordlessly pass along a hanging sign onto the bar counter. It was basically identical to the Galnt’s sign that hung outside, but this was obviously brand new. She then hands Maia an implement she’s only scarcely seen; an ink pen.

  “Don’t ask me how much that cost me, especially since I’m not a scribe…”The cringe in Grisilde’s voice already made it clear the pen was likely more expensive than getting the sign made.“Can you write your name here? I want to profit a little from having the godsyer staying at my tavern, and this is the best I could come up with without twisting your arm.”

  Could the average passerby even spot her signature on the sign, though? And she’d have to put it on both sides, since if it was on only one- Aaah, what the heck, she really shouldn’t overthink this! Maia giggles and nods.

  Truth be told, she lied a little- she *could* write, but in a very limited way. She probably couldn’t write a long letter, but she was taught the most important words and how to read them. But she could write down her name on both sides for Grisilde.

  “Come have a drink again when you and Death are wed, hahahaa! I can get her signature too.” Grisilde hugged the sign to her chest and slowly wobbled to the back- alright. That’d be enough lingering here.

  The streets were busy again, and life had moved on. Rumors of the godsyer permeated the city, for sure, but it was oddly calm for a city where a god had been sin. She wasn’t going to question it- mortals had their own woes. The cabbage merchant still had to sell his produce in time before the next shipment, the carpenters had to finish their work on a roof, and the baker had to sell bread…

  There was something to be said about the tenacity of human ignorance. Maia just tugged at her hood and kept her head down until they reached the cathedral, which was busy but far less bustling than what it had been yesterday. The same man who’d been taking care of Homer yesterday was still here, although he did warn that Homer was currently mingling with his wife and son. She could deal with being an awkward intruder-

  Aymanah clearly couldn’t, but they agreed to it anyway. Pushing past the doorway, Homer was soundly asleep on his bed with his wife sitting next to him, his son leaning on the wall. She could definitely see the family resembnce; although Homer’s features on this young man had been softened greatly by a certain plumpness and a clear fondness for the academic pursuits, considering his robe and the books he was carrying on his person, be it in arm or on his belt in a specialty made holster. Curious.

  The visit wouldn’t be very long, as it turns out; Homer had been sedated magically so that he’d actually get his rest, and his wife and son were about to leave as well. She still got to connect with them a little more, and Bertha gave her her very heartfelt thanks for sharing Homer’s location.

  “I’m gd you told us. I… Mmm. I would’ve been beside myself, had I not found him- and then heard about his stay here.”

  In the moment it had felt like a brazen betrayal of her friend’s trust, and it had surely been that, but it had paid off dividends in the end. Even Reinhardt, the son, thanked her in his own awkward & heartfelt manner. What a nice young man.

  She would’ve wanted to say goodbye to him face to face, but the best she can do is hug his slumbering body, ask for Bertha and Reinhardt to leave a heartfelt message- and then she has to go. She still has to do her tour to thank the others before she returns to the temple district.

  Hermes still hadn’t returned to his trading post, but that was fine. Jason received their thanks and promised that when Hermes returned, he’d offer some financial aid to Aymanah for their studies; after all, they’d eventually return to visit home, and having an influential harpy friend would be excellent for opening trade negotiations down the line.

  A bit selfish, but understandable.

  Theodora and her brother had finally separated; Life had headed back to the realm of the gods and he’d taken his whole family with him. Still, as they shook hands at the gate to her estate, she seemed to be at peace. Greikos behind her was wiping away at his face with a rag, and she just couldn’t be sure on whether he was wiping away sweat or tears-

  Some things are best left unanswered.

  She even managed to catch a whiff of Euclid, which she was surprised by! The woman herself was obviously long gone, but she managed to ask around the markets and find a contractor who could pass on a message of thanks. Maia wondered how the Hell Brothers would feel hearing that the little hermit girl they were talking down to was going to ascend-

  How did she feel about the fact that she was going to ascend?She’d always examined this whole journey from the perspective of a girl in love, or a girl trying to save herself. But how did she feel about all of this as a girl who was going to become something more than a mortal?

  Funnily enough, she still wasn’t sure. But she was eventually standing there. The graveyard at the temple district, the lone pce reserved for her worship. Aymanah stood with her, cws digging into the soft ground underneath. They seemed much happier with this than the cobblestone.

  And Death was waiting, seated atop an old, chipped gravestone where the writing had faded away. The wind is gently blowing. No-one else tends to the graveyard, grounds cleared, like the whole world knows there’s only space for them here. Aymanah looks a little awkward, but Maia squeezes their hand in comfort. You belong here, my friend.

  In this world, and with me, at the end of it all.

  “You’re prepared, then?”Death asks,“As prepared as I can be.”and Maia answers.

  Death gently steps up from her seat and nods, turning her pale eyes to the rge mausoleum tomb at the center. The entrance has no signs of use; in fact now that they’re closer, Maia can tell the “doors” cannot open. This is the central point of the graveyard, an illusion of a family tomb that cannot be entered.

  “I did not intend to leave this way. It is more convenient to go from the cathedral, with the help of the priests… But if we did that, you could not follow. You’ve no ties to my realm, just to me, so the priests could not help you shift alongside me.”

  She would need to be a ‘permanent resident’ for that, she guessed.

  Death pces her right hand’s palm on the fake ‘door’ and mumbles some words. The floral, eborate engravings around the entrance begin to glow, revealing a beautiful and intricate pattern. It had no meaning from what she could gather, but it repeated and was pleasant to the eye. This glow became brighter and brighter until the light expanded to the fake door, turning it into a bright portal.

  “This is the way intended for me when I have company, the same way Life’s grove has trees capable of opening such portals.”

  And so she waits. Maia takes a deep breath and turns to Aymanah, bringing the harpy to a deep embrace. Some might be scared- she was still infused with pure, raw death after all, her touch lethal to those whom she found irksome- but Aymanah showed no fear.

  “I’ll come see you again.”

  Aymanah mumbles, and there’s a soft hiccup. The usually emotionally stunted harpy nods and mumbles more. Maia does not understand any of it, but she understands the sentiment.

  I’ll wait, they think.

  These goodbyes could go on forever. She could hug them forever, apologize to them forever, talk with them forever. But even forever must end when faced with divinity and love. So Maia lets go, and walks over to Death instead, extending a hand out.

  “Are you scared?”

  One st chance to back out.

  “A little.”

  But why would she ever back out from the love of her life, taking her hand in her own-

  “But you’re with me, so it’ll be fine.”

  Death’s cold hand embraces hers, and they walk through the portal. The girl from the hovel had traveled across the country, met many people, faced many challenges- and she’d found her love. She’d found a new purpose. And she had done it while saving the life of a man doomed to a violent death- and she had done it while introducing someone to a life beyond the peaks.

  Maia truly was beloved by death herself.

  But how would the world change? How would they all change? What were the years to bring to this loving couple, to the once-cursed man, to the freed harpy?

  I suppose you can be told a little about it, if you promise not to tell anyone else.