The tavern was chock full of people, packed to the gills with ecstatic revelers, merrymakers, and all sorts of jubilant townsfolk still celebrating the events from a few days ago. Beer and mead flowed freely, and the serving tables were kept laden with food for all to partake. The music and dancing persisted from the early evenings through the cracks of dawn, and the tavern remained a buzzing hub of activity at all hours of the day.

  But for the heroes of the hour, the unlikely band who precipitated the rescue of their townsfolk and vanquished the oppressive feeling that had long loomed over the town, they sat away from the spotlight, tucked into a nondescript corner of the tavern to quietly toast and feast in peace. Where the town had only witnessed two days of action, Henry and Arthur were going on almost two weeks' worth of movement, and even the knight-apprentice required a moment to breathe.

  They sat in the corner of the tavern, watching the rest of the building celebrate and dance. Henry nursed a cup of ale before him, whilst Arthur was working through a plate of roasted turkey and potatoes; Rebecca was engrossed in another book once more, while Lyla was on her third mug of mead. Praetorus merely sat back, and Diana appeared to be deep in prayer, her hands clasped as she rested her face on them, eyes closed.

  "I don't know how they still have the energy for this," Henry murmured, watching a couple dance wildly to the cheers of the other patrons. "Between rebuilding the town and recovering from the mountain, you'd think they'd be too exhausted to even move, let alone dance."

  "People need to blow off steam, old boy," Arthur said, his mouth full. "Nothing gets people dancing like surviving horrifying death."

  "And," Rebecca added, not looking up from her book, "the energy in town feels... different. Not at all like what it was when we first arrived."

  Henry cocked his brow. "How so?"

  "Well, for one, the mountain's gone. I think whatever was underneath seeped out onto the town itself. The whole place feels... lighter now. Less heavy."

  "I agree," Praetorus chimed in. "I feel less of a weight upon my shoulders."

  "Lyla?" Henry looked at her. "You've been here the longest. Does it really feel any different now?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess? The mead doesn't taste as good as I remember."

  "Are you gonna finish that, then?" Arthur's hand slowly reached for her mug, which she smacked hard enough to shake the table.

  Diana snorted, jerking up from her prayer bleary-eyed. Henry realized that she hadn't been praying, but dozing off. "Hmm? What was that?"

  "Sorry, Diana," Lyla sighed. "Just Arthur being stupid again."

  "Speaking of," Arthur continued, sitting back and rubbing his hand, "what happens now? I know what Henry and I are up to next, but what about the rest of you?"

  The table fell silent. The revelry and celebration slowly muted into the background as everyone at the table pondered on Arthur's question. Had Henry not already had his quest in mind, he doubted he would have really known either.

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  Diana was the first to speak. "I shall go back and resume my duties at the chapel. I'm sure there are many other trinkets out there in the world that my brothers and sisters can find." She bowed her head. "The loss of the Chalice was tragic, but necessary. For there is no greater purpose of the White Rose than to save lives."

  "Admirable. Laudable. Terribly predictable, though." Arthur sniffed. "What about you, Lyla?"

  She frowned, pausing for a second longer before replying. "The chapter keep here is gone, in every sense of the word. I suppose I'll have to report this to House Borodin at the capital."

  "Then you should come with us! We're headed back that direction anyway. Ol' Henry here needs to lug his rocks to Sir Paulus' anyway, and that's a mere hop and a skip away from the capital." Arthur winked.

  Lyla punched his arm playfully. "Don't be getting stupid ideas. I'll ride with you, but I'll put you down if I need." She turned her head to Henry. "Speaking of, how did you get your ore back anyway, Henry?"

  "Well, it's not the same ore." Henry shrugged. "The ore merchants here were practically begging me to take any of their stock as payment. So I took them up on it."

  "Isn't that a violation of the Trials and the Codex, old boy?" Arthur cocked his brow. "Don't tell me you're taking after me, now."

  Henry shook his head. "No, I didn't pay for them. As far as I'm concerned, I already put in the work of gathering the ore in the first place. This is simply a matter of replacing lost items rightfully earned."

  Arthur laughed and clapped him on his back. "Ah, bending the rules now, are we? It's a start."

  "A technicality. Fully legal and binding to the rules." Praetorus nodded. "I should know."

  "And what about you, my cagey friend? Off to rejoin the clan, or are you finally going to sell those skills of yours?" Arthur dipped his head at the archer. "Lady knows the kind of damage you'd do."

  Praetorus shook his head. "No. I will rejoin my clan at a later date. And I have no need of coin." He shifted his gaze to Diana. "I think I shall begin another journey. One within."

  The cleric beamed and clapped her hands. "I'd be honored to have you with me, Praetorus. The Order of the White Rose can offer you the peace you seek."

  "Then it is settled. I will journey back to the chapel and maintain my vigil there."

  Arthur yawned. "Bit sad, but it's your choice. And last, but most certainly not least, what of you, sweet Rebecca?" The knight-apprentice winked at Henry. "Where does your path lead?"

  Rebecca finally snapped her book shut and looked up. "Back to Nezwick, I suppose. I've still much to learn from him. Not to mention, I need to deliver the red-stone I promised I'd bring him."

  "Were you as lucky as Henry here to reclaim your lost harvest from the mines?"

  "Not yet. The merchants here don't have any red-stone, so I suppose I'll need to go back to the Mines to get my bag and effects."

  Henry felt the blood rush from his face. "You can't go back there! Not alone!"

  The mage smiled and laughed. "Relax, Henry. I'm not that stupid." She held out her hand. "May you accompany me back to the Mines, sir knight?"

  "Like you even needed to ask." The squire returned her smile and took her hand.

  Arthur rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. He's still undergoing the Trials, he's nowhere close to being a knight, yet."

  Lyla raised her fist, which Arthur instinctively flinched at. She scoffed and punched his shoulder twice. "That's two for flinching."

  "Lyla dear, if Arthur opens his mouth again, I'll pay you handsomely to shut it." Rebecca turned back to Henry. "Of course, there's also the matter of a reward, I suppose."

  "No need. A knight does his duty witho-"

  Henry felt the wind leave his lungs as Arthur elbowed him - hard - from under the table.

  "I mean, we can work that out. Later."

  Rebecca shot him a sly look as she stood up. "What about right now? The sun's already down, and I've no intention of heading out in the dark." She nodded her head to the other revelers in the tavern. "A dance, perhaps?"

  Henry's cheeks ran hot as he blushed. "Well, I'd love to, but... I don't know how to dance."

  "Well, neither do I, so let's go embarrass ourselves together."

  With that, she pulled on his arm and dragged him from the table, much to his chagrin and the others' amusement; Arthur, Lyla, and Diana laughed uproariously, and even Praetorus smiled.

  The two of them joined the other dancers on the floor and lost themselves to the moment, dancing the night away into the late hours.