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Chapter Text

Ordon had thought it was the end. 

As he had been dragged down into the pit, trapped in the painful grip of skekMal the Hunter, he had shouted the best advice he had at his son. It was the culmination of everything he could have ever hoped to have taught him—could ever hope for him. 

“Be brave.”  

If this was it, he needed Rian to know.

No sooner have the words come out of his mouth, however, when something unexpected occurs: a gelfling girl flies over the pit, stretches her hands out toward him, and shouts for him to grab on. 

His moment of hesitation is almost too long—it is almost too late—but he manages to lock arms with the girl, and between her fluttering her wings with all her strength and him kicking skekMal several times as hard as he can, the Hunter loosens his grip. Suddenly pulling against no resistance, the two gelfling go flying, barely clearing the edge of the pit and rolling to a painful stop. 

Ordon scrambles upright. Rian is grabbing his arm, simultaneously trying to reach out and help the girl up, frantically asking if they are alright. Ordon absently responds that he is fine, focused on watching the Hunter sink under, the skeksis bellowing in rage and fighting anew to be free. They make eye contact one final time, and then the Hunter is gone.

The Captain of the Guard finally directs his attention back on his son, who is staring at him in shock. They both begin to laugh, the terror and adrenaline releasing in hysteria. They embrace tightly, still laughing, half-formed and mostly-nonsensical affirmations of pride and affection spilling out. 

They finally let go of each other, and, still chuckling, Ordon turns to face his savior. She is a Grottan, if he isn’t mistaken, and she is wiping at tears that have accumulated in her eyes as she too giggles wetly. A podling pats her shoulder and babbles in excitement. 

“It seems I owe you my life. Thank you, my lady.” Ordon says, bowing his head in gratitude and respect. 

Wiping at her eyes one last time with her sleeve, the girl calms and responds with a gentle smile, “You’re welcome. You must be Rian’s father.”

Ordon quirks a brow, and glances at his smiling son. “I am. Do you two know each other?”

“Oh, yes!” The girl clasps her hands together and smiles brilliantly. “I’m Deet! Rian and I met at Stone-in-the-Wood.”

Rian rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I sort of cut in front of her to see Maudra Fara. We ran into each other again afterward.” The young gelfling smiles then. “Luckily for me, she doesn’t seem to be the type to hold a grudge.”  

“I see.” Ordon can see his son’s blush. He looks over to Deet to see her giving Rian a fond smile. That’s all, hm? He continues, “Well, then. Thank you, Deet. Without you, I would be Gobbler feed right now.” 

Rian snorts without humor. “Just like—”

A squelching sound, rustling, and a whoosh of air, and Rian’s voice cuts off. 

Turning his head, Ordon just manages to catch the wide-eyed look on his son’s face as he is yanked into the air and away by the still-living Hunter. But then the skeksis is bounding through the trees, Rian’s terrified yells already fading, almost out of sight before Ordon can even scramble to his feet. 

“Rian!” His shout drowns out Deet’s own cry of alarm. He runs desperately for the woods, sprinting with all his might. 

Not watching where he is putting his feet on the forest floor, he trips and lands painfully on his hands and knees. Terror threatens to choke him as he realizes he can barely hear his son’s cries, and with another half-moment they fade completely. 

He slams his fists into the ground in rage. “No!” he roars, the word tearing at his throat. 

Ordon knows the Hunter. Many do not know of the Hunter’s existence, or think he is a myth, but Ordon had heard of him from the previous Captain of the Guard and had seen the skeksis in action once before. He knows with absolute certainty—the Hunter is too fast. Too skilled at hiding his own tracks. The skeksis is gone.

Ordon’s son is gone. 

Chapter Text

Ordon trudges through the forest with Deet and Hup. His two new companions have been mostly quiet, a thick cloud of anxiety hanging over them. This is likely in no small part to the thunderous aura he knows must be emanating from his own form. He has been trying not to take his fear for his son out on the poor girl or the podling, but he doesn’t seem to be doing a very good job at it.  

While his every nerve had screamed for him to chase after skekMal with all his strength, logic had won out quickly. He could not catch up to the larger, faster skeksis, especially not one so adept at hiding his tracks. Instead, he had asked Deet where she and the podling were going. When she had explained her vision and quest to go to Ha’rar, he had chosen to go with her. His honor would not let him leave a young, untrained gelfling to travel alone through the unfamiliar surface  (even if she did have a noble, spoon-wielding podling with her). Besides, he thought, perhaps the All-Maudra could lend him forces to storm the castle and rescue his son—or, a tiny, traitorous voice in the back of his mind supplied, take revenge.

They finally settle for a rest. As they sit on a couple of boulders in a shady spot, Ordon can tell his companions are weary by their heavy sighs and slumped shoulders. He winces inwardly—perhaps in his state he had not thought to slow down for shorter legs. 

His attention is caught by Deet’s movement as she pulls out a jar of something and unfurls her wings. She carefully pulls the left one in front of her. Picking up a little of whatever is in the jar with her fingers, she begins to rub it along her wing. 

When she winces, he asks, “Torn wing?”

Deet jumps a little, startled. “Oh! Yes. It happened when I was bitten by the darkened nurloc.”

“So you’ve been traveling on foot?” 

She nods, a small, gentle smile appearing on her face. “It’s alright. If I hadn’t been, I probably wouldn’t have met Hup!”

Hup gives an exaggerated shudder. “Egh.”

Deet giggles. 

A thought occurs to Ordon. “When you came to my rescue—” he starts to ask, but Deet cuts him off.

“Oh, don’t worry about that!”

“But doing that—did it make things worse?”

Deet squirms under his enquiring gaze, and he can already tell that she’s going to try and downplay what was probably a serious aggravation to her healing injury. “It’s alright. It will heal, and I was still going to be traveling on foot anyway.”

“Hm.” He decides to let it go. She isn’t a childling who needs to be scolded--and she especially doesn’t need to be scolded for throwing herself into danger to rescue his sorry life. He tries to put a damper on his fatherly instincts. 

As they set out again, it becomes clear that their little conversation has made Deet feel more comfortable approaching him. She tentatively does so, walking more alongside him than behind, reminding him to slow down a little. She and Hup make conversation about the creatures they see and the caves. Ordon listens with interest and even occasionally provides a comment, his heart lightened a little as he focuses on the task at hand and not on the heavy knot of worry in his chest. 

He finds himself asking, “What of your family, Deet?”

Deet, who has been explaining to Hup how she feeds the nurlocs, turns to him. “Sorry?”

He winces at having interrupted her but forges ahead anyway. “Do you have family?”

She lights up. “Yes! I have two fathers and a little brother named Bobb’N. We’re nurloc farmers, which is why we’re in charge of feeding them. Our house is pretty deep underground, since that’s where the nurlocs like to live best, but we aren’t too far away from the other Grottans—” 

She continues on, babbling stories of the caves and her childhood, and he finds himself smiling, just a little.

Chapter Text

The air grows colder as they make their way over the mountains and into the valley of Ha’rar. Ordon’s tough Stonewood leathers are sufficiently warm, and neither Deet nor Hup mention the cold, so they make the trip without much trouble. Eyes follow them as they travel down the main thoroughfare of the city, and Ordon can feel himself slipping back into the “Captain of the Guard” posture, having relaxed in the company of his cheerful new friends. 

He eventually realizes that the stares are not aimed at him. They are aimed at their group, yes, and the strange makeup, including the fact that a podling is with them. (He suspects podlings do not often wander into the capital—their own culture a stark contrast to the propriety-obsessed Vapran.) However, he realizes, they are mostly staring at Deet. 

She seems to have noticed as well and is fidgety under the passersby’s curious, almost offended gazes. Grottans don’t care to come topside very often, he supposes.

Deet inches a little closer to him and asks, quietly, “How are we going to see the All-Maudra?”

“What do you mean?” Ordon responds, confused.

“Do you really think they’ll let me in?” 

His head jerks her direction in surprise. “What?”

“I wasn’t allowed in to see Maudra Fara in Stone-in-the-Wood. What if they won’t let me in to speak with the All-Maudra?”

He stutters for a moment, thrown off guard at the idea that Deet, of all Gelfling, would be turned away from his Maudra’s court, then finally manages, “I’m the Captain of the Guard at the Castle of the Crystal. Assuming they haven’t received the news of my, ah, resignation, they’ll let us in.”

Deet and Hup give him twin looks of surprise. “Oh!” Deet says. “Really? I knew Rian was a guard in the castle, but…” She trails off.

“Hm.” He nods. “I’ve visited the capital many times in the trine I have been Captain. They should let us in without a problem.” 

“Oh.”

There is a pregnant pause, and then Ordon asks carefully, “Deet. Why were you turned away from seeing Maudra Fara?”

“Well…” She fidgets with a braid in her hair, peering out at the merchants’ stalls and fine ladies they walk by. “I think it was because I’m Grottan.” She continues speaking in a rush. “But it was probably just because Maudra Fara is the Stonewood Maudra and so she really needed to see the Stonewoods first, I’m sure.”

“Bah,” Hup pipes up from his place next to Deet. He waves his spoon sharply, then spits out something in Podling about “Stonewood patootie” and “justista.”  

Ordon is really only able to pick up the vitriol in the podling’s voice, but Deet’s frantic “Shh!” in response to Hup’s statement encourages his suspicion. “Did something happen in Stone-in-the-Wood?” he asks.

Deet’s resolve crumbles under his gaze. “We came across a couple...not-so-nice gelfling. Hup defended my honor, but then he was thrown into the rascal hole. I tried to go to Maudra Fara and explain what happened, but the guard wouldn’t let me in because I’m a Grottan.”

Suddenly Ordon feels very tired. Of course, he knew the seven clans tended not to get along, and he had on occasion heard of such aggression toward outside members. He supposed he had just never experienced it directed at himself. How someone could be cruel to the gentle gelfling walking alongside him in particular confounds him and sets his blood boiling.

Without thinking, he puts a hand on her shoulder. She looks at him with wide eyes, surprised by the contact but not shrugging him off. His jaw works for a second before he says, “I’m sorry for your treatment at the hands of my kinsmen, Deethra. We Stonewood are known for our hard heads, but that is a flaw as much as it is a strength. You didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

She smiles, and gives his hand a friendly pat. “Thank you.”

They continue on their walk in companionable silence, before a thought occurs to Ordon. “How did you get Hup free, then, if Fara wouldn’t see you?”

Hup laughs. “Deet, scary monster!” He snarls comically for emphasis. 

Deet blushes but tells the story. By the end, the group is getting even more looks than before, attracted by Ordon’s loud, deep guffaws. 

Chapter Text

They are let into the citadel without issue—the news of Ordon's turn against the Lords of the Crystal has apparently not reached Ha'rar yet. They are taken right up to see the All-Maudra, but they and their paladin escorts are intercepted outside the throne room by Mayrin's oldest daughter, Seladon. Ordon recognizes her, of course. In his visits to Ha'rar, she has been a fixture at her mother's side since she came of age, preparing to someday take the position of All-Maudra. He has not interacted with her beyond a few brief exchanges; his only impressions of her are that she is reserved and dedicated to her training.

Seladon gives a small bow of her head in greeting. "Captain Ordon. What is your business here? Is it about the murder at the Castle?"

He bows respectfully. "My lady, it is a related matter. We need to see the All-Maudra as soon as possible." He gestures to Deet, who tentatively gives an unsteady half-curtsy. "This is Deethra of Grot. She has traveled a long way to give your mother crucial information."

Seladon gives Deet a once-over. Her nose crinkles just slightly. "Is that so?"

Deet nods enthusiastically. "Yes. I was sent by Maudra Argot."

The Vapran gives Deet one more long look before saying, "My mother is...occupied at the moment. You can relay the information to me."

"My lady," Ordon bows again, "I apologize; but it is absolutely crucial we speak with your mother as quickly as possible. It is for the good of Thra."

To his surprise, Seladon draws herself up to her fullest height, raising her chin and arranging her features into a haughty, stern expression. "My mother is very busy, Captain. I am her eldest daughter, and the future All-Maudra. I am sure whatever this—" she glances at Deet disdainfully— "Grottan needs to tell her can be shared with me. If it's privacy you want, you can have it. Leave us, paladins."

When they do, Seladon turns to Deet with a severe expression. "Well, what is it?" 

Deet glances at Ordon, unsure. He sighs in frustration, respect for the All-Maudra's eldest diminishing rapidly. "Go on," he says to Deet, thinking that maybe upon hearing Deet's message for herself, Seladon will realize how dire the situation is and fetch her mother.

"Well, it started when I was bitten by a nurloc—" Deet starts.

Seladon interrupts. "A what?"

"It's a giant worm that lives underground. My family feeds them. They—"

The princess visibly cringes. "Your family feeds worms?"

"Yes, we farm them. They're usually very gentle, but this one bit me, and then it chased me into the cave of the Sanctuary Tree. The Sanctuary Tree spoke to me and gave me a vision about—"

Seladon interrupts again, asking, "A tree spoke with you?"

"Yes, it—oh, why don't you just dreamfast with me?" Deet huffs, uncharacteristically frustrated. Not that Ordon can blame her.

"Dreamfast with you?" the princess questions incredulously.

"Yes. You can see my vision for yourself and know that it's true." Deet holds her hand out for Seladon to touch.

Seladon makes a disgusted face. "When was the last time you washed your hands?"

As Deet cocks her head and asks, "Why would I ever wash my hands?" Hup gives a growl in anger—which Ordon can barely keep himself from imitating. What an insufferable—!

He scolds, "Princess Seladon, danger is encroaching Thra. You're going to need to get over some of your more delicate sensibilities." He holds a hand out to her for emphasis, along with one to Deet, who immediately meets it with her own. "This is no time to act like a childling."

The Crown Princess looks as if she can't decide if she is offended or chagrined.

"Come on," he says, jerking his head their direction.

She sighs heavily, and with one last glare, Seladon touches her hands to theirs.

Something like music thrums through his veins, pulsing in his chest like how it feels when the whole of Stonewood stomps in a dance. It's swirling through his mind in a way he can't articulate even in the moment—he's flying and dancing and sleeping all at once. It swells and swells and swells—

And then it stops, and Ordon has the sensation of being back on solid ground. He opens his eyes to near-darkness, stone walls surrounding him. After a moment of disorientation, he realizes he is in the Castle of the Crystal, just outside the Crystal Chamber—which doesn't really help with the disorientation, actually. Through his confusion, he hears voices coming from the Chamber. His heart leaps, sure he recognizes one voice, and he hurries in.

Relief crashes onto him like an ocean wave when he sees Rian. His son is speaking with Deet, both of them almost-but-not-quite reaching for the other. Ordon barely notices, however, too overjoyed to see his son unharmed. "Rian!" he calls, jogging over.

Rian grins. "Father!"

They embrace quickly, and Rian asks, "How did we get here?"

Deet pipes up, "Um, where is here?"

"The Castle of the Crystal," Rian answers, obviously confused.

A new voice answers. "Wrong, brave Rian! Wrong! This is Dream Space!" It's an old crone in a multicolored robe, circling the Crystal, jumping and spinning and tapping her feet. Ordon has a thought—could it be—?

Deet gasps. "Mother Aughra!"

"Yes, gentle Deet! I have returned!" The old crone continues to sway and jump in an almost rhythmic manner.

"What is she doing?" Rian asks.

Deet giggles, delighted. "She's dancing!"

Suddenly Aughra stops and gasps, "Ah-ha! There's the rest of you!"

The three gelfling turn to see the other others coming to meet them. Ordon recognizes Gurjin, of course, and his sister Naia, but he is shocked to see the All-Maudra and one of her daughters—the youngest, he believes. He bows to Mayrin with a gasped, "My lady!"

To her credit, the All-Maudra is calm in the face of the unexpected. "Captain," she greets warmly.

The others exchange a few bewildered greetings as well, before Aughra gives her own. "Welcome, clever Brea. Welcome, proud All-Maudra. Strong Ordon—" his eyebrows raise at the title— "fierce Naia, wise Kylan, and Gurjin."

"Wait, that's it? Just Gurjin?" the Drenchen protests. His sister, Rian, and Ordon chuckle at his expense.

Chapter Text

Suddenly Ordon is falling and flying again, and then he is back in the citadel, standing next to Deet in the hallway. Seladon is gone, and they are surrounded by paladins confusedly trying to subdue them, Hup in the middle trying to defend them both himself. Ordon growls quietly. Seladon.  

A paladin tries to take hold of his arm, and he brushes her off. “We’re not trying to make any trouble,” he insists firmly, “The All-Maudra will hear us if you go find her.”  

Another paladin makes a rough grab at Deet. “Let go of her,” Ordon snaps, temper flaring. 

With relief, he hears the All-Maudra’s voice. “Paladins! Release them,” she commands, and they promptly do so. 

Ordon and Deet hurry to straighten themselves out, but Hup gasps. “All-Maudra!” He bows deeply and holds out his sword, babbling in podling.

“Not now, Hup,” Deet urges.

“Is this podling in his right mind?” Brea inquires, brow furrowed.

“He wants to be a paladin.” 

The All-Maudra leans down and places a hand on Hup’s shoulder. “Not now, podling. Innocent lives are at stake. Come, and prove the strength of your spoon at my side.” She straightens and continues, eyes glinting with determination. “We must find Seladon before it’s too late.” 

They rush down the hallway and burst into the All-Maudra’s chambers to find the Ritual Master and the General with Seladon between them. The Skeksis and the princess turn to face the group, accusation in their eyes.

“Get away from my daughter!” the All-Maudra cries. 

Ordon pushes forward, drawing his sword. “Step back.” 

The Ritual Master purs, disapproval dripping from his words, “Your daughter was just telling us a very… distressin g story, All-Maudra.” 

“Seladon, you have to stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Brea pleads.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Seladon snarls.

Mayrin interrupts her daughters to address the Skeksis. “I demand you release my Paladins.” 

But the Ritual Master feigns confusion. “Release them? They are not prisoners. They are volunteers.”

“They are under my protection.” Mayrin replies. “I am the All-Maudra!”

The General growls. “You are All-Maudra because we allow you to be All-Maudra.” 

Mayrin steps around Ordon, shoulders back and head high. Ordon makes a move to put himself between her and the Skeksis, but she waves him off sharply, so he moves aside with reluctance, still holding his sword at the ready. Looking every inch the Gelfling Queen that she is, she continues, “And as All-Maudra, I have turned a blind eye and said nothing while you steal from gelfling. No more.  I have allowed you to buy my loyalty with cheap trinkets. No more! I have bowed my head and called you ‘lords’ while you drained us. But… no more!” 

“Then you are no more!” General the general roars. In the blink of an eye, he whips out his sword and slashes it across the All-Maudra’s person. The Gelfling ruler looks down at herself in confusion before collapsing. Both of her daughters scream.

Brea and Ordon lunge for the All-Maudra, the former Captain trying to examine the wound while Brea sobs and begs her mother to stay awake. It is too late—the All-Maudra releases one last shuddering breath and goes limp. 

“She’s dead,” Brea whispers, devastation clouding her voice.

Seladon raises her head to meet her sister’s gaze, a tear rolling down her face. “It’s your fault.”

Brea’s face simply crumples, and she throws herself down on her mother’s chest and sobs. 

Enraged, Ordon rearms himself, stands, and points his sword at the Skeksis. “You wretches, you’ve killed the All-Maudra. All gelfling will stand against you now.” 

To his anger, the General laughs. “I’ve killed a traitor, Captain.” 

The Ritual Master places a comforting hand on Seladon’s shoulder, drawing her away from her mother and into his embrace. “Come princess. There’s nothing you could have done. You said it yourself—your mother was a traitor. But you…” One of his clawed fingers raises Seladon’s face, like a father caressing his child’s cheek. “You are loyal.”

Seladon breathes in shakily. “Always.”

“You know then what you must do.”

Brea cries out from the floor, her mother’s blood staining her dress at the knees. “No! Seladon, it’s not too late. Think of Mother…and Tavra!”

But Seladon ignores her sister’s words, and schools her face into a steely expression despite the tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Paladins! Take these traitors away!” 

As paladins burst through the door, Ordon lunges toward the General. “You—!” he roars. 

He is grabbed from behind by a paladin. He swings his non-sword arm around at the gelfling, who lets him go. Ordon is barely able to even turn in the General’s direction again before another paladin attempts to stop him, and then another. He fights viciously, years of experience taking over and making each move automatic and instinctual. He can hear Deet’s and Hup’s cries of protest, Brea’s pleas to her sister, and Seladon’s answering dismissal. It all serves to make his blood boil hotter.

Finally, pain explodes at his temple when a paladin manages to club him with the hilt of a sword. He vaguely registers Deet’s shriek. The pain and the haze from the hit gives the paladins the opportunity they need to subdue him for good, and they shove him out the door.

He feels blood trickle down his face. Brea is crying out for her sister, to the Paladins, begging them to see reason. Hup growls and curses. Deet demands to be let go, and he can hear the terror in her voice. 

And Ordon can only let himself be dragged along, into the Skeksis’ carriage.

Chapter Text

Ordon was touched, deeply, when the group of young gelfling had their ceremony for the All-Maudra. Brea had given a beautiful eulogy, the Spriton had started the song, and the seven gelfling and one podling had united in harmony to laud the fallen All-Maudra.  

Now it is early morning, and after a fitful sleep Ordon sits on a large, flat-topped boulder, deep in thought and staring out at the still-moonlit Crystal Desert. He has a dull headache—he had insisted Naia save her energy and only partially heal his head wound before bandaging it, so the pain persists some. He is thinking of the All-Maudra—the fallen Mayrin, but also Seladon. How much damage would be done with that young, obstinate gelfling on the throne?

Why couldn’t he have been faster in that throne room? Years of experience have taught him to dismiss this sort of question—what is done is done, and that had to be all. Seeing Princess Brea sobbing in Deet’s arms keeps coming to mind, however, as do his companions’ terrified cries as they were dragged out of the All-Maudra’s throne room and into the Skeksis’ carriage. The current moment of respite has given him the time to process what has happened, he thinks. The same thing happened at times of quiet during the Arathim War.

The shuffle of a footstep on stone has him turning his head to see the source too quickly—a sharp pain stabs through his skull, and he winces.

It is only his son. “Are you alright?” Rian murmurs, mindful of the sleeping gelfling around them. 

Ordon sighs, massaging his temple. “Yes. Just achy.” 

“Can I sit with you?”

“Of course.” 

Rian does, and they sit in silence for a few minutes, gazing at the first few beams of the eldest brother beginning to stream over the horizon, dappled gold light on burnt ochre desert. Ordon glances at his son’s profile, and pride swells in his chest. He had been surprised and proud when he had heard Rian standing in front of the Skeksis’ carriage to rescue them, and prouder still when his son had persuaded the paladins to dreamfast. It was very brave. The thought makes him realize he doesn’t actually know what has happened to his son since the last time they had seen each other.

“Rian. What happened after you were taken by the Hunter? How did you come to be with Naia, Kylan, and Gurjin?”

Rian’s eyes widen in surprise a little at the question, but he complies and tells the story. Ordon winces at the part about the Hunter attempting to take Rian’s tongue as a trophy, and he squeezes his son’s shoulder when the young gelfling’s voice shakes, describing how the Chamberlain took the vial of Mira’s essence and drank it. He burns with anger as Rian outlines skekSil’s speech about evil. 

This is when his son becomes hesitant. “He—he said I’ve been running away. That I’ve been weak. I don’t know. Maybe he’s right somehow. I’m not brave. I have been running. I left Gurjin behind. I didn’t even do anything when they killed Mira—” Here he cuts off, voice shaking. 

Ordon is overcome with emotion. He gently clasps the back of his son’s neck and presses their foreheads together—a gesture he realizes he has not done since Rian was a childling. 

“You are not running,” he says, voice firm and fierce. “You are making a stand. If you have had to run, it is only because others have failed you—because I failed you. You have been so brave, doing all of this alone, and…I could not be prouder of you, son. ” 

He feels Rian’s hand come around to grasp his arm. “Father, I—” 

And suddenly Ordon’s son is weeping. Heaving sobs shake his frame, and he clutches to Ordon like he did when he was a young childling. Ordon wraps his arms around his son and holds him, shedding a few tears himself. He strokes Rian’s hair and rocks him and whispers nonsense words of comfort.

Processing in a moment of respite, he thinks to himself. 

Finally, when the eldest brother is well above the horizon, and the second is just beginning to peak into view, Rian has calmed, though father and son are still loosely embraced. Their companions are evidently too exhausted to be woken by Rian’s grief or the sunlight.

Rian sniffs once before gently shifting out of Ordon’s hold, though he stays close. He asks, voice a little raw, “I haven’t asked what you have been up to since I’ve seen you last.”

Ordon smiles. “I traveled with Deet and Hup to Ha’rar. I knew I wouldn’t be able to follow skekMal, and I couldn’t very well leave them to fend for themselves.” 

Rian chuckles a little. “Now that sounds like quite the adventure.”

Ordon laughs too. “It was probably the oddest traveling group I’ve had. But they have become good friends. Hup is quite the friendly fellow, and Deethra is a sweet girl.”

Rian looks away, toward the horizon.“Hm.” 

“You two seem to get along well.”

Rian looks at his father and blinks owlishly. “...what?”

“You and Deet.”

“We just met, really.” Rian tries to be dismissive, but he is avoiding Ordon’s gaze.

Ordon knows that Rian just lost Mira a few months previously, but his gut tells him to just come out and say what’s on his mind. “Son, I saw you staring at her across the fire last night.” 

Rian jerks to face his father and sputters. “I didn’t—”

“She did seem to be staring back, though. Thought you might want to know that, if you didn’t already.” The sly grin that is slowly growing on Ordon’s face strains as-of-recently underused muscles, but Rian’s blush convinces him he has hit the nail on the head.

“Father!” Rian protests. 

Ordon laughs and tosses an arm back around his son’s shoulders. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone. She is a lovely girl, though.”

Rian doesn’t disagree, and their attention is soon caught by the shadow of a massive creature flying toward their campsite.

Chapter Text

The puppet show is the most ridiculous thing Ordon has ever seen—and, after the events of the last several weeks, including the fact that he followed a sentient pile of rocks here to the Circle of the Suns, that is a true feat. However, when the Heretic and the Wanderer mention the Dual Glaive, he involuntarily shouts out “What?” only to be shushed by skekGra so the show can finish. He can barely believe it. The sword he wielded against the Arathim years ago in the names of the Lords of the Crystal, the key to victory against those same Lords? The fates have a funny sense of humor. 

When they finish, putting out the fire that has started on urGoh, Ordon explains to Deet and Rian how he had used the Dual Glaive in the Arathim War. “Its power was so great, I feared what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands. I gave half to Maudra Argot to hide and hid the other half in Stone-in-the-Wood.” 

Deet is delighted. “Maudra Argot has it? That’s wonderful! We can go straight to Grot and get it!” 

“Yes!” skekGra exclaims, out of breath from both the performance and the commotion of putting out the fire on his other half’s clothing. “The power of the Aureyal is the power of all Gelfling. Alone, you are small. Together, you are a cleansing flame. Be that flame!”

“Bring the many...into one,” urGoh adds, clasping his hands together in emphasis.

“I’m ready,” Rian says with his chin raised boldly. Ordon marvels at how his son has grown. “I will wield the Dual Glaive.”

Ordon nods resolutely. “We will light the fire and unite the Gelfling.”

“The reign of the Skeksis will end,” Brea adds.

Deet smiles. “And you two will be one again, we promise.”

Finally, Ordon thinks, finally, they are the ones who are a step ahead!

They prepare to leave that evening, after a filling meal and some rest. 

skekGra and urGoh give them supplies and further advice, and expressions of gratitude are passed from one to another. skekGra puts out a hand for Rian to shake.

Suddenly something whizzes through the air and buries itself in the Heretic’s hand. Both he and urGoh cry out in pain. A loud ripping sound rings out as something tears through the canvas ceiling and jumps through the hole. The Hunter slams to the ground in front of them. 

“I have come for my trophy!” he roars, taking a menacing step toward Rian. 

Ordon registers Deet putting herself between Rian and the Hunter (his heart swells—that ridiculously kind girl!) before drawing his own sword and going to charge toward the skeksis himself. However, Ordon is cut off just a fraction of a second too long when Hup runs across his path, stopping in front of Deet and brandishing a wooden spoon. 

“No hurt Deet!” Hup cries.

To their horror, the Hunter picks Hup up by the spoon, and with a snort and a derisive comment of  “Cute,” flings the podling across the room. The small figure hurtles into a shelf that collapses on top of him with a crash. Deet screams and runs to her friend’s side. 

skekMal turns his attention back on Rian, who draws his sword. Ordon, shaken by watching his friend thrown across the room like a child’s plaything, comes back to his senses and lunges at the Hunter with a furious cry. Rian follows suit.

Their quick exchange of blows is furious, but it is quickly apparent that skekMal has the upper hand based on size and skill. The Hunter gets a chance to knock Ordon aside, and then disarms Rian. He raises his blade to make the final blow upon Rian, and Ordon will not get there in time—

An arrow appears in the Hunter’s shoulder, who cries out in pain, and then another and another, leaving the skeksis staggering backward. Ordon takes the opportunity to put himself between the Skeksis and Rian, but his glance in the direction the arrows came reveals another Mystic, this one wielding a bow. 

“Get away from them,” the Mystic commands, then lets another arrow fly. It hits its mark, and both he and the Hunter cry out in pain. “You and I are one,” the Archer forces out. “You cannot defeat me without defeating yourself. What I feel, you feel.”

The Hunter growls, “Perhaps, but I will not leave empty-handed.”

With that, the Skeksis turns and runs. Ordon sees his path and sprints to intercept him, but the skeksis snatches up Brea and leaps off the balcony. 

Ordon and Rian run to the edge, powerless to follow. “Brea!” Rian shouts.

“Rian, go! Find the Glaive! Don’t worry about me!” Brea instructs before her voice fades away. 

Rain slams his hands down on the balcony wall with a cry of frustration before rushing back inside to check in with the others. Ordon is about to follow when he notices Brea’s beautifully embroidered book resting on the ledge. He picks it up carefully, remembering how he had seen Brea rifling through it or sketching in it on their way to the Crystal Desert. He aches for the young princess and shudders to think what may become of her in the hands of the Hunter. 

Chapter Text

Ordon, Rian, and Deet leave the Circle of the Suns that evening, bidding Hup an emotional goodbye and giving the Wanderer and the Heretic their thanks. They travel for a while in the dim tunnel that skekGra and urGoh had told them about, Deet leading the way and keeping a lookout with her superior eyesight for the fork in the path where they will part ways—Ordon to Stone-in-the-Wood, Deet and Rian onward through the Breath of Thra to Grot.

Ordon hears a scuffle and a grunt from his son ahead of him. "I can barely see where I'm going," Rian complains. "Ow! I think that rock just tried to take a bite out of me."

"Your eyes will adjust eventually," Deet reassures him with humor in her voice. "Daylighter."

"Daylighter?" Rian asks, incredulous.

"Oh, yes. We Grottans have all sorts of names for you topside Gelfling. Sun Brain. Moon Child."

"Very funny."

"Tunnel Screamer!"

"You're hilarious."

Ordon chuckles and listens to their continued play-bickering with a small smile. He can't help but be glad they are keeping their spirits up despite all of their worry for their Vapran friend.

Finally, Deet stops. She sounds almost disappointed when she says, "Oh, here's the fork."

They come to a stop. "Well, it seems this is where I take my leave," Ordon says, adjusting the bag on his back. Deet and Rian have a much shorter trip, and Deet would not be able to fly with both Rian and the baggage (even though her wing is healed—Ordon had asked), so they carry little but the clothes on their backs.

"Stone-in-the-Wood to the left and Grot to the right, yeah?" Rian asks.

"That is what they said." There's a moment of silence, and he continues, "Well—"

"Oh!" Suddenly Deethra throws her arms around him in a tight hug. "We'll miss you. Be safe."

He feels himself soften and returns the embrace. "You as well." He holds her at arm's length for a moment. "I'm going to miss your company on my travels—and Hup's, too."

Deet smiles, a little sadly at the thought of their injured friend, but pleased nonetheless.

Ordon turns to Rian, and the two embrace tightly. "Be careful," Ordon says quietly. "I love you, Rian."

Rian takes a shuddering breath. "I love you too."

They let go with no small amount of reluctance, and the turn to face their paths.

"See you at Stone-in-the-Wood," Ordon says.

"With the Glaive," Rian responds.

"Goodbye!" calls Deet.

They set off, and after Ordon watches their backs for a moment, so does he.

His heart is heavy with the silence and the thought of his injured and captured companions, but somehow, he is still buoyed by hope.

Ordon makes it to Stone-in-the-Wood in good time. He is allowed in to see Maudra Fara right away, and he tells the tale of what has happened to him since he was last in his clan's land.

The fierce Maudra is contrite in a way he has never seen. "Ordon. I am so sorry. I was a fool, and I turned away your son—one of my clan—in favor of those wretched monsters." She pinches her brow, frowning in in regret.

Ordon places a hand on his friend's shoulder with a bitter smile. "As did I. No need for you to apologize, Fara. You were doing what you thought was best."

"Thank you, old friend."

"Now. The Glaive."

"Where did you hide it?"

"In the—" Ordon is interrupted by a Stonewood guard bursting through the doors.

"Maudra Fara! The Skeksis are coming!" he cries.

The Stonewood warriors assemble with practiced efficiency. Other citizens are shepherded into shelter, into the multitude of hiding places in the Dark Wood.

Finally, Ordon stands in the main thoroughfare with Fara and other warriors. He recognizes a few, but not all—younger gelfling whose training was completed while he was at the Castle. These are too young to have participated in the Arathim War, possibly even too young to have been alive during the war, like his own son. They are fidgety, nervous. The few closer to Ordon's age are grim and resolute, muscle memory settling in.

The wood holds its breath.

They are blinded by a light.

Chapter Text

When the Arathim-like creature disengages from his face, Ordon immediately feels dizzy and sick to his stomach. He had been aware of what was happening around him, but unable to control his body or even string coherent thoughts together for longer than a few seconds, the voice of the Spitter that controlled him drowning out his own thoughts. The sensation of suddenly having all his mind and body returned to him is overwhelming and leaves him disoriented.

He attempts to pull himself together as Maudra Fara gives sharp instructions to the confused Vapran paladins and castle guards. Ordon approaches her, stumbling a little despite himself.

"What's going on?" he demands.

She looks relieved. "Ordon, thank Thra. The Skeksis are letting us go."

"What?"

"Augrha made some sort of deal with them. The Arathim are on our side. We need to leave."

He ignores the bafflement her statement about the Arathim induces and nods. Shaking off the last of his disorientation, he helps her usher the newly freed gelfling toward the exit. Something catches his eye—or more specifically, someone.

"Princess!" he calls.

Brea lights up. "Ordon!"

He gives her a quick once-over—she's visibly dirty, bruised, and frightened, but otherwise unharmed, thankfully. He gestures for her to follow him. "We need to leave."

She nods, turning to the two gelfling beside her, and Ordon is shocked to realize that she stands with both of her sisters. He barely recognizes Tavra despite having met her for formal functions previously because of the Arathim still connected to her face. Seladon's appearance is even more striking—dirty, ripped clothing, scratches and tear tracks on her cheeks. Despite his feelings toward the eldest princess, sympathy flares.

He gestures them ahead of him, and with a smile from Brea, grateful nod from Tavra, and awkward glance from Seladon, they follow the others into the catacombs.

Brea and Seladon, already exhausted and unused to so much physical exertion, are lagging behind. Their sister urges them on, as does Ordon. Maudra Fara and the others are pulling ahead, but he holds his position at the Princesses' backs.

And then the General and the Collector appear, seemingly out of nowhere. With their large size, the two of them effectively surround the gelfling. Tavra blocks a swing the General intends for Fara, giving him a deep wound, and an Arathim spits at the Collector, blinding him. The gelfling take advantage of the distraction and flee with new urgency—-all except one. Tavra approaches skekVar, vengeance burning in her eyes.

Ordon sees this while ushering her sisters forward and catches her arm. "No, Tavra. We need to leave."

"Let go of me, Captain," she orders.

"You have wounded him. The time to flee to safety is now."

She falters, and the odd depth of the Ascendancy's voice creeps into her own. "They betrayed the Arathim." Her voice sounds more like her own again. It shakes. "He killed our mother."

"I know. But, Princess Tavra, your sisters need you. Your people need you."

Brea picks up on his angle and reaches toward her sister plaintively. "Tavra, please, let's leave. Please. We can't lose you too."

"Sister, please," Seladon adds.

Tavra looks conflicted, expressions flitting across her face quickly. Finally, she sighs. "Alright, let's go."

Seeing their campfire turn blue is a shock, but seeing Rian's unstable outline and hearing his voice is a bigger one. The confirmation that Rian is alright, as is Deet, puts Ordon's heart at ease. The rallying message Rian gives to the seven clans makes Ordon's chest swell with pride.

They check themselves over for injuries and rest for a few scant hours, many still spent from their time controlled by the Arathim. Brea and her sisters are cling together in a tight knot, murmuring to each other quietly. The others give them their privacy, though the Spriton Kylan is close by. Ordon spends some time discussing possible battle strategies with Maudra Fara, but after a while of debating in circles they come to the conclusion that there are two many unknown variables—the number of Gelfling on their side, supplies, time—for them to get much of a plan nailed down.

Upon having this realization, Ordon finds himself drifting back to the Princesses to check on the youngest of Mayrin's daughters. She has not had an opportunity to clean up, so she is still dirty, still bruised, and still exhausted.

When she steps away to obtain one of the water flasks that are being passed around, Ordon takes the opportunity to approach her and ask, "Princess Brea. Are you well?"

Brea seems a little bewildered by his question. "Yes, thank you."

Ordon lowers his voice and leans in a little, not wanting to bring the entire group's attention her way. "You were captured by the Hunter and imprisoned in the Castle. Are you hurt?"

Understanding is on her face, and her eyes dart away. "Nothing serious. I'll be fine."

"Brea." He hesitantly reaches out a hand to her shoulder.

She focuses on him again.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks, voice lowering further.

She seems to catch that he doesn't just mean her physical state, and her face crumples briefly. "Maybe not. But I will be—later, when this is over."

Ordon nods in empathetic understanding, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze. "I'm sure you will."

He leaves her to return to her sisters with the water flask. He notices that Seladon sees him and gives him a look that is equal parts suspicious and fearful. He ignores her and goes to get water for himself. His feelings for the current All-Maudra are complicated. He was enraged by her prejudice toward Deet. He finds her pompousness exhausting. Not all this to mention that she betrayed her family, allowing her mother to be killed.

Despite that, he cannot help but think that she felt, somehow, that she was doing the right thing.

Regardless, he thinks as he glances at her highly disheveled state, she seems to have learned the error of her ways. It's no time to dwell on her mistakes or discuss them now.

They continue on to Stone-in-the-Wood.

Chapter Text

A fog of desperation lingers in Stone-in-the-Wood as the handful of gelfling prepare for battle. Their preparations are as complete as they can be, Ordon and Fara pleased with Rian’s strategy, half-formed while he waited for the others to join him and solidified when he saw how few their numbers are. 

Deet leads several gelfling in making her Grottan smoke bombs. While she greets Ordon’s arrival with a smile, she is obviously subdued. There is an unusual air of anxiety about her, but he decides not to push and instead asks Rian what occurred in the caves of Grot. Rian’s story provides some explanation, and Ordon is shocked at Deet’s courage and concerned at the implications of what she experienced, but he decides to avoid discussing it with her for now. She seems determined to stay focused for the upcoming battle. 

With Tavra, Ordon tries to give a basic lesson in swordwork to the untrained gelfling among them, like Kylan and Tavra’s sisters. 

When the smoke bombs are finished, those gelfling get working on fortifying the area and finding makeshift armor and weapons for everyone. The Stonewood, self-assured in their own home, lead the others in finding materials. 

Finally, they are ready—as much as they can be. 

The gelfling mill about in the main thoroughfare, muttering uneasily amongst themselves. A few, like Kylan, experimentally swing their weapons. For his own part, Ordon stands near the lead, listening. Fara is with him. They give each other a nod and both cast their senses out for any signs of approaching Skeksis. 

Rian joins him at his side. Ordon can see the anxiety in his son’s eyes, but a firm determination nonetheless. The Glaive is sheathed at his hip—there had been no debate about his right to wield it. Ordon feels a lump in his throat. He swallows it down and reaches to embrace his son. They say nothing, just hold each other tightly for a few moments before letting go. 

The gelfling grow quiet. The silence stretches and swells. They listen. 

A windchime suddenly crashes loudly, too loud and cacophonous to have been simply swayed by the gentle breeze ruffling the trees. 

“They’re here!” Rian cries, and the gelfling move into formation, drawing their weapons and steeling themselves. 

The Skeksis arrive in a battle frenzy, clad in wickedly sharp armor. They are clearly confident of their victory, jeering and laughing at the sight of the smattering of gelfling lined up in front of them. 

Ordon counts his breaths, trying to stay calm. He nearly loses count when he hears skekLach shrieking that he wants to “eat the green one!” and sees Deet flinch at the edge of his vision. But they can’t afford to be rash now. They can’t. 

They let Rian take the lead—they all feel that he was called by Thra to do this today, not to mention the idea that Rian has been the Skeksis’ target for months, and they hope his goading may convince the lords to engage in battle. 

The plan works, sort of. skekSo is convinced by the Chamberlain to allow the General to fight a duel with Rian on the Emperor’s own behalf. The Skeksis and gelfling form a loose circle around the two. Ordon is on edge, but he forces himself to ignore all but his training and his instincts for now, watching the Skeksis for any sign of interference. He is pleased by his son’s footwork, and pleased still when Rian manages to wound the General.

This is the part where it could all easily go wrong. 

Rian shouts a command over the Skeksis roaring in outrage, and the small band of gelfling scramble to get into positions. 

The Skeksis screech and howl and stomp their feet. Then, they charge. 

The male gelfling drop into a crouch, launching several of the females into the air and allowing them to dart over the Skeksis’ heads, dropping smoke bombs in the lords’ midst in the hope to cause confusion.

For his part, Ordon helps Deet take off and then throws himself into the thick of things as soon as there is a decent cover of smoke. This battle is unlike any other he has experienced. The rage on the behalf of his race, the fear for his son and his other companions—so many young, innocent, inexperienced—has his mind cluttered when it is usually clear in combat. He is less concerned with his own safety than he is with dealing as much hurt as he can as quickly as he can, but he is constantly glancing around him for signs of any of his kinsmen in trouble.

The battle is furious and chaotic. The gelfling technically outnumber the Skeksis, but the Skeksis’ size, and in comparison to a significant portion of the gelfling fighting, their superior skills in combat, put them at an advantage. Those who can continue to throw their plethora of smoke bombs into the fray. 

Things seem to be going steady when Ordon hears someone behind him shout Rian’s name. He whips around, ducking under the fearsome swing of a Skeksis weapon, to face a sight that drops his heart into his gut.

The Hunter is alive, he is here, and he has Rian in his grip—but only for a moment.

The gelfling, frantic at the sight of Rian hurled into the stone steps, run to gather around. skekMal grabs Rian by the back of his neck, and he’s shouting something about his might and invincibility but Ordon isn’t actually listening because the noise is cacophonous and it’s roaring in his ears—the gelfling are yelling in fear for their friend and the Skeksis are whooping and shrieking in delight and Deet is crying, begging, and Rian cries out as he is jerked painfully with every aggressive gesture the Hunter makes. There is no clear way Ordon can help. Rian would be dead before he was even a sword’s length away. 

The Skeksis positions his hands like he is going to tear Rian’s head clean off his shoulders in front of them all. The terrified shouting of the gelfling intensifies, Deet screams, and Ordon finds himself shouting as well, something that sounds like half of a word but doesn’t actually make sense, just a cry of fear and desperation. Above it all, he hears Rian cry out in terror. His legs kick feebly in the air, hands reaching out in vain to claw at the Hunter’s arms. 

For an awful, terrible second, Ordon is positive he is going to watch his son die right in front of him, and he moves forward to do something— he doesn’t know what, knows it won’t do any good, but also knows that he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something.  

And then the skeksis stops. Freezes. He voices his confusion as the dumbfounded gelfling watch his body begin to flake and crumble. His arms go limp, and he drops Rian, who scrambles backward into the safety of Deet and his father’s arms. Together they scurry back, pulling Rian along. 

To their further confusion, Mother Augrha appears in skekMal’s empty clothing. 

Armies of the rest of the Seven Gelfling Clans appear from the brush, wielding battle trumpets and weapons and determination. Cheers ring out among the crowd. Numbers are on their side.

Then the Emperor steps forward, brandishing his staff. Augrha barely has time to shout a warning before skekSo sends a wave of electric purple energy in their direction. Ordon tries to pull Rian, and by extension, Deet, away quickly, but the Grottan breaks free, throwing herself into the path of the Emperor’s attack. She throws her hands out, seemingly absorbing the dark energy and keeping it from touching any of the other gelfling. She screams in pain, and Rian, Brea, and the others shriek in horror. Finally, it’s over, and Deet is on her hands and knees in the grass, breathing hard and trembling, not answering the frantic gelfling around her who reach for her and ask if she is alright. 

She stands. 

“Stay away from my friends!” she roars, and she blasts the dark energy into the group of Skeksis, obliterating skekLach in a disgustingly wet burst. 

There is shocked silence from the collection of gelfling, broken by screams of terror as the massive Skeksis Lords flee. Then, a massive cheer goes up among the clans, and the Gelfling burst into celebration. Ordon embraces Rian, and while his son returns the gesture, it’s weak. Ordon remembers how Rian being thrown into the stone steps and pulls away so he can look at him from arm’s length. 

“Are you alright? Hurt anywhere?” He prods carefully at his son’s torso. “Does it hurt when you breathe?”

Rian shrugs, then winces when his father presses on a spot. He gives a weak smile at his father’s concerned look. “It’s not too bad. Really. I’ll worry about it later; I want to check on Deet first.”

Ordon nods in understanding, and the two turn to seek out the Grottan in the crowd. They call her name, responding to the occasional claps on their back or greetings and congratulations with quick nods and gratitude as they push through the crowd.

“I see her!” Rian finally announces. “Deet!” 

Ordon can see her walking through the crowd. Her posture is slumped, and she doesn’t join in the celebration. Concerned, the two Stonewood gelfling maneuver through the crowd after her, calling her name.

As they begin to follow Deet into the forest, Ordon really begins worrying. What could be wrong? Is she injured? Evidently Rian is also growing more worried, and both of their calls grow more insistent.

They lose sight of her for a few moments, and the two pick up the pace. They stop short when they turn a corner, Deet suddenly standing right in front of them.

“Deet—” Rian starts, relieved.

She turns.

Both father and son gasp in horror at the sight: electric purple veins run across the Grottan’s skin. Her large, normally dark eyes glow with an unnatural violet light. Perhaps the most striking thing, however, is the mournful expression on Deet’s face—it’s so wrong on the happy gelfling girl’s face.

Before Ordon can take a step, she turns away again, and begins to trudge further into the forest. In her wake, grass turns dry and brown, trees shrivel and lose their leaves, flowers and bushes wither and crumble. Small creatures seize up and collapse. Dark vines twist up around him and Rian. 

Deet disappears into the trees. 

Ordon’s shocked state ends quite suddenly, and he draws his sword to hack at the thick vines that block the path Deet has taken with unrestrained vigor. “Come on!” he barks at Rian. “Before she gets too far!” 

Rian is shaken out of his dumbfounded, horrified state. He frantically grabs his knife from his belt, shaking fingers fumbling to get ahold of it. He takes it to the vines as well, sawing at the same section as his father. 

The plants are thick as ropes, and it takes longer than Ordon can stand to break through them. As the moments pass, their movements become more frantic, desperate. He cannot shake the feeling that if they lose Deet now, they will lose her forever. 

Finally they saw through one last vine to create a large enough space for them both to slip through. It’s a tight fit, and they both receive multiple scratches for their efforts, but they pay it no mind and immediately sprint in the direction Deet went, following the path of the Darkening. 

They call her name, frantically. 

“Deet!” Rian shouts. “Deet, stop! Let us help you. It’ll be alright!” 

Ordon yells, with all the breath in his lungs, “Deethra!”

Chapter Text

They follow the trail of wilted vegetation and barren trees at top speed, stumbling over dead vines and choking on the stench of death that permeates the air. The woods have gone silent, the usual chirps and squawks of Thra's creatures absent. Ordon and Rian's breathless calls for Deet are the only sounds that pierce the air, ringing out eerily in the silence.

Suddenly, Ordon trips on a gnarled root, which sends him sprawling to the ground. He can't help but let out a yelp as his hip twinges.

Rian, a few feet ahead, stops short and scrambles back to help him up. "Are you alright?"

Ordon tries to catch his breath. "Yes, yes, fine! Keep going!"

Rian keeps his arm around his father's shoulders, like he's afraid the older gelfling is going to tip over. "I'm not even sure we're going the right way. There's no—"

Ordon hears a faint sound and reflexively reaches out to clutch his son's shirt. "Sh!" he commands.

His son goes quiet immediately, and the two hold their breath as they listen, ears cocked in search of what Ordon heard. After a moment, Ordon hears it again—the distant but unmistakable sound of horrible, gut wrenching sobbing.

Rian hears it too. "Deet," he breathes, and he wrenches himself out of his father's grasp, tearing off in the direction of the sound, Ordon close behind.

It's only a few moments before they turn a corner in the path of decay and see Deet, collapsed to her knees in a blighted clearing. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her, fingers clutching and pulling at her dress as she doubles over weeping.

"Deet!" Rian yells. The Grottan's head jerks up, her sob catching in her throat at his shout. Her eyes widen, tear tracks shining among the trails of purple veins that snake down her face.

"Rian!" she cries, clearly horrified.

Ordon's son clambers over a downed tree and into the clearing. "Deet!" he cries again. "Deet, it's okay. It's going—"

She throws her hand out in his directions, open palm out. "Rian, stop! Don't come any closer!"

Rian obeys, raising his own hands in a placating manner. "Alright, alright."

Ordon takes the opportunity to slowly ease himself over the same fallen log, his hip protesting again. A twig snaps when he lands, and Deet's eyes dart over to him wildly.

"Ordon—" she starts, chin quivering before she seems unable to go on.

"It's alright," he says. "We're here to help."

The Grottan shakes her head frantically, braids swinging. "You can't! It's the—it's the darkening!"

Rian takes a little step forward, hands still raised in supplication. "We will figure it out, Deet. Augrha is in Stone-in-the-Wood. She'll know what to do."

Deet sobs. "No, it's not safe!"

Rian takes another step. "It's going to be okay, Deet."

She sobs again, hands tugging at the fluffy white strands of her hair. "The trees, Rian! Look at the trees!"

Rian takes another step and gestures to himself and his father. "I know. But look—we're right here. We're fine." He steps closer again.

Ordon reflexively reaches out toward Rian, torn desperately between wanting to help the Grottan girl that has becomes so dear to him and keeping his son safe. "Rian—"

But Rian bravely steps forward again. And again. "You're not dangerous, Deet. You are the most kind, gentle hearted gelfling I've met. You would never hurt a creature of Thra if you could help it." Deet sobs again, covering her face with her hands, but Rian continues on. "It's the darkening. But we can fix it, alright? All of us, together."

Rian kneels down—reaches slowly for Deet's hands. He gently, carefully takes them and pulls them away from her face. Ordon can't breathe.

But nothing happens. There appear no signs of Ordon's son withering and dying like the rest of the plants and creatures around them.

Rian holds Deet's hands in one of his own and reaches up to cup her cheek with the other, wiping at her tears with his thumb, even as his voice becomes wet with his own tears. "I promise, Deet. We will stop the darkening, I swear it."

Shocked out of her tears from Rian's proximity, Deet inhales sharply and shakily before throwing herself into his embrace. He returns it desperately, both overcome with emotion.

Ordon can feel the tears on his own face. He rushes forward without another thought, wrapping his arms around both gelfling, kissing both of their heads.

In that moment, as they cling to each other, Ordon makes himself a promise as well. He will do everything in his power to give Deet and Rian—and Hup, and Brea, and Gurjin, and all the others—the bright future they deserve together. They will defeat the Skeksis, and heal the land, and reunite the Clans.

He doesn't yet know how, but they will.