A Second Tyranny

The Journey

WHIT

Wisty and I were in our best travelling clothes, carrying a rucksack on our backs. We stepped onto the front porch of our old house. The door opened before I could ring the doorbell and we were greeted by our parents.

"Mom!" cried Wisty.

I shouted, "Dad!"

We flung ourselves into their open arms, Wisty at Mom and me at Dad, and then Wisty at Dad and me at Mom.

"Sorry for not seeing you in so long," Wisty sobbed. "Things were really busy lately."

"We should've visited you more frequently," I acknowledged.

Dad said patiently, "That's all right, Whitford and Wisteria, we understand." He put an arm around his wife and rubbed her shoulder. "Your Mom and I are safe and fine."

Mom sniffed, "I've missed you, my darlings!"

Sadness washed over me. I was about to say goodbye to my parents. I didn't know if I could do this or whether or not I would do it right. I didn't want to leave them. Wisty and I had already lost them to The One Who Is The One, we only brought them back from Shadowland not so long ago, and now that we were going to be parting ways with them again, I wasn't sure if I was ready for another long-term family separation. What if this time it was permanent?

I took a deep breath to steady my heartbeat and began, "Mom, Dad, we have to tell you something..."

"There is no need," Mom said, shaking her head kindly. "We know."

Dad gave us a smile only a loving father could give. "You two are so valiant, so altruistic and kind. You sacrificed and did so much for the good of this City, and grew up to be exactly the son and daughter your Mom and I hoped you would be. You are willing to risk your lives to help the sisters of Arendelle even when they have not done anything for you in return, and I am deeply impressed by your dauntlessness and generosity." He looked at my Mom, who nodded. "We both are." He addressed us again. "Just take care of yourselves for us, will you?"

"We will," I assured him, and then added, "The non-magic-makers in the Council are in charge now. Wisty and I have appointed one of its members, Greg, as Speaker."

"Until you return," said Mom.

"If we return," I corrected.

Mom said in disapproval, "Don't say that, Whit."

But I wasn't going to let her tell me off, so I pressed, "Seven thousand magicians set off to do battle, but not all seven thousand will come back. People will perish. Not everybody will live to see the dawn. You can't change it. You can't prevent it. That's the way it is. My sister and I are either going to win or we die trying."

Wisty asked, "Have you got any last pieces of advice?"

"I have one." Mom took a step forward. Her expression was strong and determined. "Win," she said.

They pulled us into a big group cuddle, and we hugged one another with warmth and tightness like never before, as if we didn't ever want to let go.

"This isn't going to be the last time I'm seeing you," Dad said.

Wisty's voice was higher-pitched than usual. "I hope it won't be."

We broke apart. Our parents' faces weren't streaked with tears but dry. I was glad they were not crying. Crying would imply that they didn't believe us or have enough faith in us, and that was the last thing I'd wish to carry with me when I depart.