“We have lived here in this kingdom for the past five hundred years together, reliving day after day with the same routine. For my alchemists, it’s just making potions and experimenting with them to help King Odette’s wizards. And for the past five hundred years, there has never been a shortage of conflicts.” He said, “Avery was separated from her sister, Emily. Both of them had no parents and no way of making money. When Avery travelled to Sun-Glint all those years ago, it was to become a good healer. Sun-Glint, as the Kingdom of Luxury and Wealth, was a great option for one as talented as she. So when the curse happened and she was separated from Emily, she was full of anguish. What was going to happen to her sister? Was she ever going to see Emily again?”

I stared at him openly, shocked, “Are you sure it’s alright to tell me this? Isn’t this – ”

“Avery’s story to tell? Yes, but it was the first story that was shared amongst us in all this chaos.” Despite the sad tale, he smiled. “On the first years here, fights sprung up no matter where you went. Complaints to the kings, to the nobles, the mages, the alchemists, the common folk – all pointing fingers about how one side was not working as hard as the other. Avery, perceptive as she was, saw that while everyone had a point – nothing was changing. And her love for her sister, her goal, trumped every other argument she had with anyone.”

I watched as his smiled widened ever so slightly, eyes softening in a fond sense.

“I will never forget the day she called for that meeting with Tanva, the way Tanva stood upon that roof in the plaza and screamed at everyone to shut up. How Avery followed suit with her passionate speech, her story – her love for her sister. I was so proud, and still am, to have called her an alchemist in my care.” He continued, “Perhaps for the next year after that event, nothing changed much. But I saw differently, people were more careful in what they said and it seemed they truly did consider the possible situations others were in. Even the kings stopped their useless quarrels, especially that between King Stevather and King Jude.”

“I see,” I said, feeling like a moth drawn to the warm candor in his voice, a kind of genuine affection you’d find difficult to find in many people. I could only wonder what the kings might have to say.

“As these 500 years have passed, we have all gotten to know each other better and have confided in one another. For no matter what our differences are, we all want one thing – and that is to have the curse broken. But the curse cannot be broken if we do not understand one another and hold each other up, the magic that has trapped us cannot be lifted by one sandman’s actions alone.” He paused, “So we are here for you, Lavy.”

‘Not in a way that would matter.’ I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.

There was a part of me that wanted to say yes to this, but a bigger part of me still felt like everything was wrong. On one hand, I wanted to go back to feeling happy. On the other, I didn’t feel like I deserved their comfort because I knew forgiveness needed to precede that. Forgiveness for my existence and the grievances I had caused, carried over from my time on Earth. Only then did I feel like a person worthy of kindness.

And the only person who could ever forgive me was gone, anyways. So I wondered what the point of this was, what even was the point of giving a second chance to live was when I couldn’t spend it with the one I loved the most.

“Thank you,” I said. “Really, I appreciate it.”

He looked at me sadly, stopping before two large evergreen mahogany doors. “I hope one day it goes beyond appreciation. I hope one day you will take it.”

“Maybe, one day.” I said, not even sure I’d live to see the day the curse would break.

“Until then,” he said, pushing the doors open. “I hope the gardens shall bring you peace."