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There had been a feast, of sorts. Everyone had attended. Classa was, unsurprisingly, one of the stars, for the little centaur girl had charmed all by her plucky precociousness and, later, her levelheaded maturity. She was showered with gifts and well-wishes, and she thanked everyone sincerely, but there was a soberness about her now that one would not expect from a child. She was happy that they'd won, but she was also uncanny, in a sense, and... she knew it.

[color=C71585]“I think, after all this,”[/color] she admitted to Tku and Zarina, [color=C71585]“I'd kinda just like to be... a kid, again.”[/color] She shrugged awkwardly. [color=C71585]“I'll be a grownup someday and I'll have years for that, but I'll never be a kid again. It was a condition I put on my wish before. I hope it can go back.”[/color]

A good number of hearts were broken by the admission. Classa had, in a sense, sacrificed her childhood so that An Zenui might stand. Among them was Jascuan, and he sat mostly in silence, his ears flicking, once in a while, as he took in his surroundings and the warmth of them, drifting in and out of sleep. In truth, at his advanced age, the happenings of the past few days had taken almost everything out of him, but all was... if not exactly [i]right[/i], then at least far better than it had been in his lifetime. There was genuine hope that things might change. The city had been damaged but not destroyed. Hundreds had died, but tens of thousands had lived. Here, in the winter of his life, the great fight he had prepared a lifetime for had finally happened and, if he had not played the starring role, he had at least played his part.

Fiske, promising if fractious young man that he was, had played a role too and, during one of Jascuan's brief moments of wakefulness, the pair exchanged some teasing words. [color=808000]“I am too old and tired,”[/color] he replied. [color=808000]“You would win.”[/color] He reached out and handed the boy a small, folded paper. On it was a unique insignia: one Fiske may have seen before in passing, but not quite recognized. [color=808000]“On the night of five moons, go to the shelter on the Tip. Show this to the person you will meet there and your training might continue.”[/color]

Soon after, he drifted off once again. He was at peace with it: with al of it. The stuzets were finally free, the corruption at least partly purged from society, and justice of the blade delivered to those who had done evil. He had no fight left and it was just as well that none was needed anymore. His children were safe and happy, their futures secured. His eldest would be taking over the farm in good order. His youngest was a woman grown and would be heading to the great school across the ocean with her new friends. Josca would go with her for a time to help with the adjustment. It was, he thought, feeling the warm rays of the setting sun on his skin, a happy ending.

Benedetto, too, was something of a removed figure, until Ayla came to speak with him, fresh off of a conversation with Samaxi and her elder brothers. To her surprise, perhaps, he hugged her back, and tightly. [color=00a99d]"Thank you, Ayla, for [i]your[/i] help and..."[/color] He trailed off for a second. [color=00a99d]"Never stop being good, okay?"[/color] the separated. [color=00a99d]"Never stop being a light for other people. You have more power that way than you ever will by destroying. It took me ten years in the wilderness of the past to learn that, but [i]you[/i] got me started on that path."[/color] He swallowed and his face became pinched. His eyes shone and he took a couple of deep breaths. [color=00a99d]"Fuck.... this wasn't supposed to be hard. I wasn't supposed to care."[/color]

Then, Fiske was apologizing to him. Benny shook his head. [color=00a99d]"Fiskel, you little shit."[/color] He sighed. [color=00a99d]"I've done worse - way worse, for reasons less pure."[/color] He shrugged.  [color=00a99d]"Whatever's in your past that makes you angry, I hope you get to the bottom of it. I hope you figure it out."[/color] Benny squeezed his shoulder, perhaps fondly, but always a little too hard.

Desmond had struggled with his own goodbyes, and Benedetto knew it well. The sun was turning fat and golden as it edged toward the horizon, and it began to strike everyone that this was it: this was goodbye. Stuzéts - now calling themselves sirui hé - had gathered first by the tens, and then by the hundreds. Nearly all who had called An Zenui home had decided to depart. The seven children of Sazan-Betai and Stela-Zomé were among them, old enough to understand what was happening but too young to comprehend it. Desmond took a moment with their parents, and both embraced him with firm handshakes and greatful thank yous, for the distant past that they were headed towards was a strange and uncertain place, and his gifts would surely help them survive. From behind her mother, Loci gazed up at him evaluatively, eyes flicking towards the burrito and the shotgun, before she decided to scamper away.

Cazelui hugged him deeply. [color=fff0f5]"I will... remember to turn the safety off before shooting,"[/color] she laugh-cried. [color=fff0f5]"And I will never forget you. Thank you for... showing us: for [i]saving[/i] us."[/color] Poto-Mits came to embrace him as well, and the three sirrahi Desmond and Tku had taken the fall for earlier come to thank him and, really, all of the others. They had freed themselves, but these eight foreigners had been the spark for it all. Finally, came Egosto-Alguo, and he settled the hat atop his head. He had said nothing during his interrogation. He had remained silent. Now, he had the hat. He nodded a thanks and gave Desmond his word that this was how it was always meant to be.

Then, as the sun sat atop the horizon like a great, overripe peach, there came a portal. It sparkled and swirled. Benedetto stood beside it. He had already said his goodbyes to Zarina, to Ayla, to Marceline, Fiske, Yansee, and Evander. He and Desmond eyed each other for a moment, for they were both old friends and old rivals at this point: more similar than either would ever have wanted to admit. [color=00a99d]"Keep fighting the fight, Desmond."[/color] It was all he could manage. He was, even now, having his doubts about the necessity of the course he had chosen. [color=00a99d]"Read about me in your history books, okay?"[/color]

He turned to the sirui hé. [color=00a99d]"You all know what comes next,"[/color] he announced. Their goodbyes were finished. Many took last, anxious looks back out at their home: the only one they'd ever known. Final, rushed goodbyes were spared for the humans and cazenax they would be leaving behind. [color=00a99d]"It's time for us to go."[/color] But, then there came something unexpected. Evander stepped forward. "I think I'm going to go with you, actually: just for a little. Just for a year, to help you get settled." He shook his head. "Can't leave you with just Benny here, can I?"

At least a couple others tried to dissuade him, but most accepted it. He was implacable, as he had always been. Instead, they said unexpected goodbyes. In theory, he would return. In practice, who could say? Life is the experience of the unexpected, after all. One by one, they disappeared: Egosto-Alguo, leading them through, Poto-Mits and Cazelui, Stela and Sazan shepherding the kids along. Then, finally, Evander and Benedetto. All at once, the portal wavered and winked out of existence and it was dark and cooling. Zarina began to feel her expanded form deflating. Marceline and Tennaxi wrapped shivering arms around themselves.

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Then, a new portal appeared. From it emerged Karan Harrachora, Arch-Zeno of Ersand'Enise. He regarded them for a moment, evaluatively, before nodding. [color=firebrick]"In one week, you did more good for the world than most people do in a lifetime,"[/color] he said simply, a mysterious pouch hanging from his hip. The Cazenax watched warily before easing. Classa eyed the strange man with suspicion, her more childlike nature seeming to have returned, as if the effects of her wish had worn off now that its paramount lesson was learned. [color=firebrick]"Come with me now, back home."[/color] He smiled in faint satisfaction, taking a deep breath of the desert air through his nostrils. His gaze fell upon Tennaxi, Samaxi, and Yansee. [color=firebrick]"Oh, and you too, or... you [i]three[/i],"[/color] he joked. [color=firebrick]"You show much promise: far too much to be anywhere else but at Ersand'Enise."[/color]

The portal yawned open. Classa hugged Zarina and Tku one last time before Zox picked her up and held her as if she was a little doll. He bid farewells of his own: brief but meaningful, while Naxos chattered on, dabbing tears with a kerchief. Josca, Buinats, Cozoban, and Cozezast did not have anything too longing to say. They would be there in a couple of weeks for the Trials. Jascuan, the old man who had started it all, slept peacefully as they said goodbye.
[hr][hr][center][h1]Primitive, Act Four: Fin.[/h1][/center][hr][hr]