Fauna, Klax, and Tara walked through the forest of Triant, hearing the sounds of devastation coming from Sentinel Bay.

As they'd left Griffon's Watch and the horrors of Dr Haylock's realm behind, they'd seen something approaching from the far distance at the North end of the Isle. Far from the devastation Ethan was causing to the East, a rag-tag group of Drycthlings were riding towards them at speed, commandeering a vessel that was composed of charred Albion bark.

The hybrids had looked to each other and realized that this was their ferry back to the mainland. Proof that, though their Lord had gone to face his destiny alone, he was still looking out for them.

The journey back to the mainland had taken barely any time at all, and the dense fog whipped up around Griffon's Watch shielded them from the battle that was ensuing in the Eastern waters far from the castle. The fog's existence was not natural - it was proof that Ethan still remembered his team.

Once they'd gotten back to Sentinel's Port they'd refused the Drytchlings stationed there the chance of an escort.

"This is our journey to make," Fauna told them. "Just as Ethan has chosen his path that he needs to tread alone."

They then made their way out of the walled city, passing by the destroyed tree at its center and the memories it evoked, before trudging down back into the forest towards home.

And as they went, the roar of destruction followed them. Sounds of explosions ripping through the sea reverberated through the land, shaking the earth and striking fear into the hearts of every woodland creature.

Each of them was quietly aware of what those sounds really represented: the end of the old world, and the birth of a new one. Westerweald was done. Ethan was going to make sure of that.

But a strange feeling gnawed at them. It was not only the bittersweet nature of their parting with their Lord, but the very fact that the suffering the humans had inflicted on them all for years was about to be repaid a thousand-fold, and none of them could force themselves to be happy about it.

They passed by Triant village itself and saw that it had long been evacuated. Possibly, with the exodus of the villagers from Sentinel, the people of this town had followed suit. No more would their bandits plague the roads that ran from the port city to Sanctum. No more would the Hybrids fear guard patrols coming near their home.

Soon they'd come up from the depths of the earth and inhabit towns like this one. Possibly, they'd rebuild them in their own image. Fauna envisioned Hybrid children running around in the now vacant fields, practicing their magic, playing silly games – with Mara, of course, leading the way.

Perhaps it was this small dream of peace that made her set down her supply bag and call to her friends.

"We should explore a little," she said. "Maybe the villagers left some stuff behind that Sanctum could use. It looks like they fled in a hurry."

Klax looked over his shoulder and managed a small smile. In his backpack, he was carrying the remains of Jun'Ei, anxious to bury her back home where she belonged.

He didn't say anything, and so it fell to Tara to speak for them both.

"Yeah," she said. "Good idea, Faun."

The Hopla ushered Tara close while Klax stopped by the fountain to wash his face and hands – he was still covered in blood. In her blood, and his own.

"Look after him, Sis," Fauna said, squeezing the Minxit's hands tightly. "He needs you now."

Tara blushed, and tried avoiding her friend's gaze.

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"I don't know, Faun…"

"Do you love him?"

The question startled the normally boisterous Mixnit, and she stuttered a little before muttering something under her breath.

Fauna smiled.

"I've known you ever since I was a bunny, and in all that time you've only ever had eyes for one man. No matter what anyone says about Minxits and Hoplas, they're wrong. Sometimes, we really do just want one thing. One person."

"…it's not the right time."

"It never is."

Fauna pressed her hands tighter.

"Be with him now," she said. "Before it's too late."

Tara didn't say anything back. She just nodded, a little off-kilter, as she went along to join her once-leader.

Fauna watched them head off towards some of the human houses towards the western district, ready to ransack whatever they could find. She, meanwhile, decided to cover the east.

She walked through the human village with no small degree of curiosity. Even as she heard the thunderous din of destruction echoing from the sea they'd left behind them, she was transfixed by the sights she saw around her.

She'd never been in a human town before. She'd never seen anything like this up close, without fear striking at her heart.

Here and there she saw abandoned stalls, street-vendor signs and little quaint advertisements for shops and smithies. Tucked away in corners she saw a few cats licking at their paws before sprinting away as she caught their eyes. By far the most eye-catching thing throughout the absent streets of the town, however, were the little crushed lamps that she found strewn about the place. She levitated one before her and gingerly brought it close – unsure if it could be some kind of trap like a human landmine – but she recognized the golden lettering written across its surface: Skylamp Night.

Ethan had told them about that celebration. It was the human way of celebrating the destruction of the Archons and supremacy of the Lightborn. He'd told them how seemingly innocuous people – [Bakers], [Blacksmiths], [Guardsmen], [Farmers] and even [Urchins] had all come together as one to display their hatred for the Archon and the hybrids he fought for.

Fauna found herself thinking about that as she cleared the lanterns from the street and continued on her exploration. Even the most insignificant human – who had little to nothing in common with a [Noble] – could come together and celebrate the death of their common enemies.

The human houses were simple, four-walled affairs, little hovels filled with drab furniture and basic living utensils. Fauna found a few storage lockers full of food, and took the liberty of munching on a few chopped carrots one particularly paranoid human and stashed away 'in case the end of the world comes'. Seemed like, when it did come, he'd ironically decided he wasn't going to be spending his last hours in his little bunker.

Upstairs in the same house she found hallways littered with papers and flowers. The scribbles on such papers she couldn't quite parse, but she began to piece together the house's story from the next room. In this room there were an assortment of dolls stitched together obviously by a professional [Tailor]. Fauna found herself giggling at the cute little button eyes on one of them, and the cross-stitched, very angry looking Hopla doll in the corner, with a little sword in its paw. She thought that seeing such toys would evoke a sense of revulsion from her, but instead she just giggled. This is what the humans thought of them – and this is how the human children came to understand what they were before they were even old enough to walk.

She looked out the window of the house at the small alleyway below, seeing clothes hung out to dry and small chalk-drawings on the walls and pavement below. She imagined young human girls playing with their dolls down there – pretending that the human toys were valiant warriors while the Hybrid ones represented evil threats to be destroyed.

She wondered if Sir Artorious or Carliah Argent had played with such dolls when they were younger, and the thought somehow chilled her.

They were human – technically – but she'd never really thought of them as human. As beings who begin life in a state of ignorance, and then slowly come to understand what kind of world it is they're growing up in.

She put the dolls down and turned to leave the room – but something else caught her attention before she left. Something she'd missed – or had subconsciously chosen to ignore.

In the corner of the room, there was a cradle covered by a white shawl. In the cradle's cot, a note was folded up neatly with a little bow affixed to it – as though it was waiting for the right time to be opened.

For no reason that she could really understand, Fauna picked up the note, unfastened the bow, and read the simple words written there:

For baby Stephanie,

Welcome to the world!

She immediately regretted reading it. She set the note back down and walked outside, not checking for anything else.

At the doorway to the house, she spared a look up at the window that would have been the newborn's, wondering where it was now. Whether the mother had given birth on the road, or whether she was even still alive…

And that moment was when someone familiar decided to reveal herself.

Fauna turned, staff in hand, to see Lamphrey staring down at her from the roof of an adjacent house.

Her eyes were cold, detached, and just as seemingly uncaring as they always were.

"How do you like the human world, Fauna the Hopla?"

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