Epilogue for September 2026

There is a quiet joy in the work they are doing. The tucking of pages away into books and those books into boxes as the space that was once central to a small village is changed. There’s no more need for these pages that document the misery and desperation of generations, but neither can they be rid of their history. So Cecelia, the last Covenant Keeper, stores away the contracts and records that once were hers to keep.

Their superstitions may never truly fade. It could be generations before a card reader is not quieted or an eyebrow not raised at a free drink, for shadows in corners of eyes not to be met with cries of “Monster!” or sporting competitions to spark joy instead of dread. Just as there are still parts of their story to unravel, pieces of Agnes’ meddling to be undone so fragments of their history are not lost. So too will Aberglyme need to unravel the practices that serve them and the ones born of old fears.

At a desk, by a window, Saige reflects on the lessons she has learned and what the future may hold. How she escaped Agnes’s dealings, fought monsters, entered a witch’s lair, and survived it all. How there is so much more to learn and see and maybe she will when Aberglyme is settled. For now she puts ink to parchment, not in fear and desperation, but in thanks:

 I hope this letter finds you all well. I do not know where to start to offer my thanks, for there are so many of you I will continue to carry with me. It is strange how a village can change so quickly and feel so much more like home. The woods are brighter now, I hadn’t realized how quiet they had been. And the ground no longer tries to swallow our boots. While none of it diminishes the losses we have suffered, we are no longer afraid and that is a victory. So thank you, Travance. You may not have saved the world when you saved Aberglyme, but you have given us back our hope, our history, and our peace.

• Saige Reed

No longer do the woods loom over Aberglyme with threats of dark promises or deals to be made. The Women of the Woods slain by the heroes of Travance. Heroes who have done grand, world changing things, so willing to also come to the aid of a village that is no more than a scratch on the map. 

The ground of the woods begins to dry. The murk and muck becomes more solid ground, though the essence of swamp remains. Over the weeks discussions are had but it is Cecelia and Saige’s voice that carry weight. Voices that speak of how history, both good and bad, is so important and it is decided that the well that once held Halcyone is not destroyed. The mark she made on the town is not to be erased, but never more will she be a threat lurking and slumbering just beneath the surface. 

The story will be carried through their history, another verse added to the child’s bedtime rhyme:

The Women of the Woods, the mighty crones,

Promised the River ever more would sleep in her bed of stone.

But on silver tongue was promise made

And over years did their magic fade,

Until all it took was a well-intentioned, tragic nudge,

To stir Halcyone from her slumber and awake her grudge.

Such loss and anguish became the next step,

For hag machinations, an ancient web.

But so too was it, for one, the first spark,

Of a journey all her own, from which she’d embark. 

There were folly and misstep, but so were there Heroes to find,

And by their side, was Aberglyme’s fate redefined.

With heroes clever were ties and bonds untwined,

The Coven falling to shields, magic and might combined.

Through Halcyone’s Prison did they next fight and descend,

Until, once and for all, she met her final end. 

No longer at the threat of a flood of hate and brine.

No longer at the mercy of a clever crone’s design.

Through heroes’ deed did they win, 

Leaving free the fate of Aberglyme.