…

Manta pulls away. As she reaches out to brush Grey’s cheek, she stops. In her hand is a card, which she looks at with uncertainty.

Grey takes her hand, gently, firmly. The card sizzles away.

“Thank you, Manta. Through your love, I found myself again. And now, I ask you to believe in me, and believe in yourself.”

The young lovers raise their linked hands and turn to the people. Grey starts: “A great change is coming - must come - and with change, risk, fear, confusion -”

Manta continues, looking back, extending her hand towards the stunned kings: “But we will find a way - we will find our way! Through love and trust, we will find our truth.

“It is not wrong to question. Without questioning, we cannot give answers. Without answers, we will not know truth.”

“And through the truth, of ourselves, of that which we love, of that which we hope for -”

The lovers, joined by the old kings, walk down from the altar into the people.

“We will build our world, together.”

In the cheer of the people, the two mermainds look to each other, and see the whole world reflected within their eyes.

It is beautiful.


Victoria walked out of the Vignette and was confused for a moment by the cheers and claps. Her audience had been waiting for her. She saw Lorem, who smiled warmly at her. She spotted Ficelle turning away from her direction, embarrassed, hurriedly wiping away her tears. And on the outskirts of the crowd, two Zenoes stood side by side. They smile at her.

“Are you happy?”

The Muse beams: “I am.”

“Welcome to the award ceremony for this year’s Annual Narrative Vignette Competition! This year’s theme is unending. The stories brought to us have been most varied. From hard realism to flamboyant surrealism, from innocent fairytales to epic tragedies, from a day in a child’s life to the saga spanning generations – our artists have interpreted the theme with great innovation.

“But though the choice is hard, one stands out the most.

“Let us welcome the artist renowned for her work in Decadent Dreams, founder and active board member of TEAR, resident guest to the most popular JoTV programme The Shipping Forecast: Victoria Hugh-Beaumont!”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! But first, before I come on stage, I must insist that they join me – the Impression protagonists of this great tragedy. This story belongs to them, and without their valuable and most intimate input…”

-Live broadcast of an award ceremony of the Annual Narrative Vignette Competition

Victoria can feel it.

Maybe because of her Affiliation with Jo. Maybe just because she’s always had a keen sense for Narratives. She’s not sure, but Lorem confirms her feeling:

The Narrative is drawing close to an end.

It is reflected in Victoria first. She starts Fading, little by little. Her body wilts and her power dwindles. But she is unafraid.

Calmly she lives her life. Joyfully she celebrates every day with her friends.

And today they gather before her bed.

Lorem is sitting right next to Victoria, holding her hand (soft, feeble, golden glow seeping out of the cracked skin), trying her hardest to smile and not to cry. Bet and Brink stand behind her, hands held. Victoria still remembers that first Date Night, when the two sat together at the candle-lit table she decorated herself. Cal is sniffling, but Madam Song gives them a handkerchief and softly whispers to them, while she gently holds their shaking body. Jack is leaning against the window, backlit by sunset, Victoria can’t quite see his expressions. She thinks he’s worried, worried about something big and important, as he always is. She smiles, and knows he returned it. Dave came with him, but said he’ll wait outside as the room was packed already. Victoria wonders whether he just doesn’t want to have people see him sad. Ficelle is like that. But instead of leaving, she leans stiffly against a corner, biting her lips so hard Victoria is worried she’ll hurt herself. It’s not that this isn’t sad… but more than that, it’s also a happy occasion. She wants to tell Ficelle that, but when Ficelle sees that she is looking at her, the proud artist attempts the worst optimistic smile Victoria has ever seen in her long life. She couldn’t help but laugh, which made the artist rather flustered.

Zeno, both left and right, are also sitting beside Victoria’s bed. “Is this how your story ends?” They ask, the voice of the Muse and of the Concept melting into one. Gentle, kind.

Victoria nods.

Using her last strength, she gives Lorem’s hand a little squeeze. As her dearest friend leans down, she whispers her last words into Lorem's ear:

“How lucky I am, to love so dearly that my ending is a tragedy.”