Epilogue

The next few days were spent trying to return to something resembling normal life.

I met with Amberleigh, Crowhurst, and Iriandor to tell them what we’d found beneath the mine and what had happened there. We still didn’t have a real solution for the Weeping Gallows, but they needed to understand that whatever remained of the Covenant of Mercy could still use them as portals to Earth.

I hoped the spread of the Gallows would slow now that the Shepherd was gone - or at least forced into hiding.

I still struggled with my altered Faith.

Was I the god of enduring bonds now? Was I still the god of belief in the absence of proof? Both? Neither? Something else entirely?

Myrrakai had said my Faith had something to do with family. Looking back, I could see the path it had taken. Maybe it had always been heading here. Maybe I'd just been too blind to notice.

The problem was that my insides felt like a tangled ball of string someone had thrown into a woodchipper. I was more stable than I'd been before the mine, but I understood my Faith less than ever.

The Shepherd hadn't been entirely wrong - my Faith changed people. I infused them with it in ways that should never have been possible. It strengthened them beyond mortal limits. It gave them emotions, instincts, and connections they otherwise never would have possessed.

And that was dangerous.

But emotions were dangerous regardless of where they came from. Love was dangerous. Loyalty was dangerous. Compassion was dangerous. Trust was dangerous.

They were also beautiful. Not just for me - for them.

Elementals didn't love. Bloodchildren didn't feel compassion. Most dragons never felt vulnerability.

What I'd given them wasn't control - it was choice. Understanding.

The certainty that there would always be someone who cared for them. Someone who would come when they were needed. Someone they could be completely, unapologetically themselves around without fear of rejection.

Maybe that was what family really was. Not blood. Not obligation. Not ownership. A bond that endured because people chose to make it endure.

My love had never been conditional. Neither had my Faith.

It wasn't a leash. It wasn't a cage. It wasn't a control structure disguised as kindness. It was support. A hand reaching back when someone stumbled. A promise that they wouldn't face the darkness alone.

And whatever else my Faith became in the future, that part of it would never change.

I spent most of my time helping Naevira navigate her new Faith. It turned out she was now the goddess of refuge, which suited her almost perfectly. Like mine, her demesne was entirely new - meaning there had never been a god quite like her before.

She had a lot to learn.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t exactly qualified to teach anyone how to be a god. Still, we’d figure it out together. And maybe, if we were lucky, we’d find people wiser than either of us willing to help along the way.

I made one final trip to Earth the following week.

I called Jenkins and Donnelly before stopping by to see them in person. Several people connected to the list had disappeared suddenly the week before, though the authorities were still trying to piece together exactly what happened.

I told them about the mine collapse - or at least the parts they were likely to believe. Told them to stay alert. Told them the Covenant leadership was hurt, but not gone.

I didn’t tell them about the mana now spread thinly across Earth. Or the Faith humanity had unknowingly begun generating. There wasn’t much of either anymore - not after it dispersed across an entire planet. It would probably take a few centuries before the first Earth-born gods ascended. Maybe longer. And if magic ever appeared naturally there, it would likely take generations before anyone noticed.

Before leaving, I bought a handful of burner phones, an e-reader, several power banks, and a dozen solar chargers. Then I loaded them with as much music and as many books as I could manage. Mirri, Lilae, and Elise would lose their minds over those.

And I mailed my divorce papers.

I’d already read them, which meant a copy existed in the library inside the demesne. With any luck Jennifer still lived at the same address.

Either way, that part of my life was over. Completely.

When I returned home, I handed out gifts before heading to see Grams.

I’d picked up a few books for her during my second trip to Earth, and it was about time I delivered them.

I didn’t know whether she’d enjoy them or not. But they were part of her history. Stories her father had told her years ago.

The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.