Cyrus had arrived at last at the temple of Iris. He could see its pillars vaguely through the thick sheet of ice which covered the top of it. Pausing a moment to recuperate after all the effort he had expended in reaching the place, he blasted it with a tremendous barrage of fire energy. The ice melted away in seconds, and the edifice was restored to its former state.

It was utterly unoccupied, just as Verbena had described. He stepped into the rotunda in between the columns which rounded its circumfrence. In four directions, he could see altars to each of the four other goddesses; they were simple stone triangles with an iconic representation of their associated element.

It was time.

Walking forward onto the dais in the center of the temple, he focused all four of the goddesses' energies at once. The balancing act was a complicated one, but he managed to concentrate all four, and sent off a blast of each towards the appropriate altar. All of them retracted into the ground, and a curious thing began to happen. Just above the dais where he was standing, a circle of some unrecognizable material coalesced into existence and began to descend. Hurriedly, he stepped off of the platform, and the disc completed its descent at a foot above the dais' level. The boy inquisitively stuck his hand out to touch it, and it felt incredibly solid despite its nearly insubstantial appearance. Clambering onto it, he suddenly realized what it was to be used for. It was upon this that he would dream.

Since Iris was in a nightmare of sorts, it was only logical that the entrance to her dreamworld would be to start dreaming himself. This disc must have served as her resting place, where she could connect with all that she was a part of, for not even a mortal infused with the being of the goddess could constantly assimilate the entire world and remain sane. Preparing himself mentally, Cyrus began to gather up as much courage as he had, and lay down onto the surface. Almost instantly, he was whisked away into the void.

Here was no mere absence of things, but a negativity the likes of which the boy had never experienced. A keening arose in the directionless infinity, the agonized cry nearly splitting his head in half. Everything was dark and cold, and his only awareness was of pain. This must be what the goddess had experienced for so long.

Slowly, the continuous anguish began to gave way to a jumbled, incomprehensible series of emotions. He found himself with the inexplicable urge to burst into flower, but stopped once he realized the futility of his effort. Where had the desire come from? Iris, in the absence of her human counterpart, must have reverted to the alien mode of thinking which was common to all plants. He had never before, of course, been so intimately able to experience the sensation, and it was almost certainly one that he did not enjoy.

Iris, as far as he could tell, was now aware of his presence, and was making an effort to communicate. The sensory bursts which he received from her were meaningless to him; the feeling of the sun on the leaves, the sound of a plant's growth, the smell of pollen on the air. At one point, it seemed to him that he heard the clear note of a melody sounding out among the noise, and he frantically cried out "Stop! Wait!" before realizing his folly and attempting to project a clear mental picture of the sentiment.

In response, Iris signaled acquiescence with a nameless feeling of acceptance. Water on the roots. Despite the strange terms, he had been understood and she was able to reply. She began to expand upon the single note which he had heard, playing back the entire melody with a few odd-sounding notes, as if it were something said in a foreign language that she had heard and could just barely repeat, though not exactly as it had been. However, as the mental connection between them strengthed, her communication ability increased.

"Again," he thought. The goddess obliged by repeating the melody, this time closer to what Cyrus imagined was the original. "What?" he inquired. Confounded by this abstract concept, she attempted to show him via a series of pictures, which grew in clarity and definition until it was as if he were watching the scene unfold before him.

A woman, who he assumed was the mortal counterpart which she had lost, was walking in a forest somewhere, singing to herself. The world seemed in balance, and she was taking the time to enjoy the world of which her floral self was an integral part. In her mortal component, she was moved to sing by the beauty that surrounded her, and she had sung for quite some time when she realized that a man was standing there listening to her.

Though Iris' thought-picture was unclear, he realized at once who it was. Saltrio, years younger! But how was it possible? He had no time to speculate, for events continued to pass as he watched.

Enraptured, the man merely stared at her for a time, and she was curious, but did not break off her song. She began to make her way towards him. Her melody was nearing the end of its phrase in any case, and she soon stopped, though the spell was not broken.

Suddenly, as she approached, she became aware of his intense love for her. It was a new experience, and she was unsure how to react for a moment. He took away her doubts by simply kissing her, and she returned it without any further hesitation. They remained there like that for an eternity, and the melody of before had turned into a duet taken up by all of the world, seemingly singing along with their newfound joy.

There was an unexpected discord in the harmony, as shouting could be heard from behind them. The goddess could not provide the words, but the sentiment was beyond any doubt. They turned to look at him, proving to be the man that Iris recognized as the Gardener. Her memories of him before that point had been quite positive; he had always tended his Garden well, and , but now he seemed to have changed without any explanation. Cyrus concentrated on the pattern of disorganized impressions, and they began to resolve into a mental picture. The Gardener was the man he had known as Kamril! But why had he become so hateful?

His hatred towards Saltrio was a palpable thing, the abject fury of his anger being the only thing that the goddess could perceive. He began to gather wind energy, but she was so confused and lost that she did nothing. The human aspect, however, realized that he was preparing to attack with a blast of cutting air. Without the slightest thought, she hurled herself in front of the oncoming strike, and the goddess was unable to control her movements for a fatal instant in which the blow struck her mortal half's unprotected body.

A roaring flooded Cyrus' ears, and there was nothing. Then, he felt the beginning of unrestrained grief, pouring out of the goddess and directly into him. Sensing his intense pain in response, she remembered herself and reduced the intensity of her projection until all that was remained was a muted sobbing.

After a few moments of subdued anguish, she resumed the tale, though it was now considerably vaguer since she was interpreting events without a human perspective to provide the necessary understanding.

The Gardener had held his head in his hands, and cried out in remorse. Saltrio remained stunned by what had just transpired, and her only impression was one of shock. He stumbled over to

Iris broke off her picture-narrative abruptly. She was full of alarm, and begged Cyrus to leave her for the moment, for something disastrous was occurring outside. Suddenly afraid, he made an effort to wake himself, and return to the Maiden's temple. When he woke up, the reason for her distress was instantly apparent, and he leapt off the suspended circle to the temple floor below.

Kamril, his eyes burning with twisted delight, was gripping the unconscious Micael by his arm and walking towards Cyrus with a slow, purposeful step. "So, you thought you would save Iris from her own little hell, did you? I have to thank you, really. I would never have been able to gain access to her temple without your timely assistance. And now, I believe your part is finished. But mine... mine is only now beginning!"

"What have you done to him?!"

"Ah, your young friend here." The mage jerked the boy forward, redoubling his grip on the child's arm; his inert body hung limply like a rag doll, and Kamril smirked. "I've just made him sleep for a while. He is really quite useful, you know. His powers of amplification will soon prove immensely helpful, for I intend to take on the oh-so-mighty Iris myself, and destroy her utterly for what she has done!"

Cyrus took a few steps backward instinctively, but realized that he would upset the disc, which was his only way to communicate with Iris. He stopped and waited for what the wicked magician had to say.

"It was her, her and Saltrio that stole my love away from me. They snatched her away before my very eyes!" He choked off, his face a grotesque mask of pain. "I always believed he was my friend. My precious love... he tried to take her... and the goddess was there, encouraging her!" The terrible light returned to his eyes. "I knew then that I had to destroy Iris. She was keeping my love from me, sucking up all of her uniqueness. I loved the woman, not the amalgam! And so it is that Saltrio, too, must suffer for his role in capturing her."

"I thought that he was my friend, can you believe it? I trusted him implicitly. At the time, I even felt guilty for trying to kill him. Instead, my death blow hit my dearest and took her life." He looked utterly dispirited for a moment, then broke out in uproarious laughter. "But it was not her I meant to kill! It was the hateful possession which I wished to destroy. Imagine, that I should feel remorse for trying to kill the monster that had invaded my beloved's body, and drawn her away from my embrace."

"You are wrong! Only you are responsible for her death. Can you even fathom the damage you've caused? Your jealousy will be the destruction of the entire world!"

Kamril laughed again, this time with a vicious bent. "Then let it be so! I care not for the sufferings of others, for mine have been without equal! Why should everyone not feel my pain?"

"You won't escape the consequences of Iris' death! If you destroy the goddess, everything, even your own existence, will end!"

"What matters such a trifle to me? My existence has already ended!" He sobbed briefly. "I failed to uphold my oath as a Gardener, failed to accomplish the task I had been set to... and I was utterly cast out from the first day I set eyes upon the poor woman Iris chose as her priestess!"

"She was beautiful, you know... so beautiful. Her eyes were of every hue I could imagine, and she peered out with the most joyful expression, as if the entire world were her delight. Her form was so slender, so delicate. I watched her for a long time, always from afar, never being able to come near, for a Gardener did not dally in that way with mortals. I knew a few of the Accademians, but no one else. I thought until then that only the wise men were suitable to associate with. But how wrong I was."

"She sang -- oh how she sang, such a melody as would make your heart burst with happiness. It was that kind of song that she sang that day. It belonged to everyone, for it was made of everything, but in my mind I knew that she meant it only for me."

"Yet then, Saltrio, my dearest friend, the one who would never betray me, came into our special place. He listened to her song, and had the audacity to fall in love with her! He profaned her with his foul lips, in the most gruesome way possible! I had no alternative. You understand, don't you?" he asked, almost pleading. Cyrus made no reply.

His manner turned harsh once again. "I need no justification. I was right! I have always been right. Now," he said, hoisting Micael's prone form onto his shoulder, "it's time for me to rectify this little injustice." He went the remainder of the way to the disc in rapid strides, slinging the child to the ground again like a sack. "Move, boy! I have business with your dear little Flower Maiden."

Cyrus assumed a defensive posture. "I won't allow you to go any further!"

"It's far too late for you to stop me. No one can come to your aid now. I've... taken care of Saltrio. It was quite a simple matter to daze him, in fact; the people in your little Norven had no idea how to break the spell. What a shame that no one tried to contact him from the Accademia. Why, they might even have been able to restore him! But he has remained trapped there for months, and all the while you never even suspected that not all was well."

Saltrio incapacitated! This devious wretch had conquered even Master Saltrio in his underhanded fashion. The boy had to try very hard to restrain his anger and prevent himself from lashing out in a blind rage.

"In any case, there is no way that you could best me, even if you used all the powers at your disposal. For I possess the boy Micael, and he will be powerless to resist me once I wake him from this slumber. You see, I have the power to muddle men's minds, and the limit of my power is only set by their strength. Arturo did not succumb to the more insidious of my control, but no one has ever resisted my daze. In any case, the little brat's confidence has only recently been boosted. He's lived all his life as a forgotten little boy; one little success won't be enough to give him the power to resist."

"It can't be!"

"Ah, but it is. Observe!" He waved a hand over the child's head, and he stood up slowly, his eyes the same as when they had first met; forlorn and despairing as ever. His movements were stiff and jerky, as if he were a puppet. "He is mine, now. Come, Micael. It is time for you to give me the power for which I have waited so long. Do it now!"

The little boy looked blankly at Cyrus, making no movement. It seemed that some memory was struggling to resurface in the poor child's mind, but he was still incapable of breaking out of the trance.

"Don't listen to him, Micael! You've got to break free of his trap, I know you can do it. Don't let yourself be taken in by his deceitful tricks! You are not Kamril's thrall."

Slowly, the youth began to speak. "But... Mother..."

"That's right," Kamril said in an irresistibly compelling voice. It was hard to doubt the owner of the voice, but Cyrus was not taken in for an instant. In a hypnotic monotone, he whispered, "You killed her, you were too weak to take care of her, you never gave her what she needed..."

A tear slipped from the boy's eye. "Mother..."

"He's lying, Micael! Kamril killed her, not you! He was responsible for putting you out, you weren't at fault at all! You mustn't listen to him any more!"

"Don't pay him any attention, little one. Your mother died because of you, and it won't be alright ever again unless you give me more power. If you do, she'll come back to life for you! Can't you just see her standing before you? She's calling you now, telling you to help me, and then she'll come back. She's waiting," he whispered in a voice smooth as silk.

Cyrus spoke, and his words slashed through Kamril's murmurings like a knife. "Your mother would have wanted you to stand up for yourself, not give yourself over to the treacherous scheming of such an evil man. You're not just a tool to be used, you're a person of your own! Now stop this madness and do what Elena told you to: be strong!"

Suddenly, it was as if a chain had snapped. At the mention of his mother's name, Micael had started to look up and travel out of the haze into which the mage had placed him. Now, he had regained full control of his body. He ran over to Cyrus and hugged him fiercely. The older boy patted him on the back, and stood up to face Kamril directly.

The wicked magician spat at his feet. "Curse you! It makes no difference. I will defeat you here and now, and the little boy will be helpless but to obey me in your absence. Prepare to die!"

He began to concentrate a massive blast of wind energy, intending to slice him in the same way that he had Iris' lamented priestess. Cyrus wasted no time, however, and directed as much power as he could into hurling him backwards by the force of the earth. Unexpectedly, he redirected the wind into creating a shield around him, deflecting the earth blast harmlessly.

"Did you really believe that I would be so weak as to be destroyed by what little you can harness of the Maidens' powers?" he asked tauntingly. "Try again, boy. If you can!"

Kamril directed the cutting wind towards the youth, and it was now Cyrus' turn to defend himself against the oncoming thrust. He emulated the wicked mage's method, blocking the wind with a wind shield of his own.

"I'm not so weak as you would care to think!"

"It doesn't matter. My wind barrier can deflect anything you send at it, and your power is much less than mine in any case, though you may have a few more tricks to perform than I do. This fight is already decided, my young friend."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Micael's on my side."

The boy grasped his arm, and willed for him to have as much power as possible. He began to feel the current of it surging through him, and he was imbued with tremendous energy in an instant. The boy fainted from the exertion, unable to deal with any more challenge that day.

"Micael!" Yet seeing the boy sleeping peacefully, he could not bring himself to wake him up the poor child, and tucked him safely away into a niche by one of the temple's pillars, before returning to the matter at hand. Now, the playing field had been leveled quite nicely, and he prepared to take on the wicked mage.

"It's time to fight in earnest. Get ready!"

He soared towards the wicked mage, tackling him in a blow whose strength was increased tenfold by the application of earth energy into his fists. Kamril was knocked backwards onto the temple's steps. and struggled to his feet with no small difficulty. He wiped a bit of blood off his chin and smiled.

"So you want to be serious, eh? Well, come and have a taste of what a real battle is!"

The mage rose up into the air on a gust of wind, and assumed a fighting stance. Cyrus did the same, and they rushed at each other with immense speed and force, each trying to knock the other into submission. After several passes which were misses on both sides, they faced each other in the air, breathing heavily from exertion and watching their breath like fog before their faces.

"So, you can match me at that game. But will you be able to counter against this?"

Kamril made a series of intricate gestures, and a sphere of wind began to collect around him and close in to crush him. This was the kind of technique that Westinia had taught him during his stay at the Accademia, and he knew precisely how to counter it. Seeking out the pathways of energy which the man was manipulating to create the crushing sphere, he made a few deft alterations in their flow and all of the slowly collecting energies were spread out uselessly in all directions. The mage cursed him before retreating slightly to reconsider his strategy.

Cyrus did not grant him the reprieve that he desired. Coming forward to close the distance between them, he prepared another strike, this time utilizing his water energy. The massive ocean and ice floes which surrounded them due to the polar location provided plenty of raw material for him to draw on, and he had soon collected a sizeable quantity of water. His plan was simple; distract the mage by throwing ice needles at him, then hitting from behind with a fire blast.

He put the first part into action, hurling the frozen droplets at his front in a torrential gust. This had little effect, however, for the mage had extended his shield forward and blocked all of them well before they had a chance to reach him. The fire behind him similarly failed to penetrate the wind shield.

If he could not defeat Kamril with physical contact or diversionary tactics, it was time to return to his roots. Earth magic was irresistible, and could easily penetrate through any form of protective barrier. But how to get him to return to the ground? He thought feverishly while the mage taunted him.

"What's this, boy? Your little plan failed? How sad. A pity you couldn't put up more of a fight than that."

Feigning rage, the boy rushed at him, but instead of striking from the side he flew above and forced the mage downward with a powerful wind blast, which took him by surprise enough to knock him down momentarily. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Cyrus summoned up a tremendous quantity of earth energy, and directed it in one forceful blow towards the downed magician in the form of a seismic disturbance. The earthquake smote Kamril's body like a collision with a brick wall, and he was for the first time in the battle injured by the boy's efforts. He attempted to stand up, but fell again and laughed hysterically.

"Is that it, then? How ridiculous. I've been bested by a mere child. But I'll still have my revenge!"

The boy walked over to where the magician lay, and regarded him gravely for a few moments as he continued ranting incoherently. It would be so easy now to end his life and make him pay for all the suffering he had caused. But no. In a way, his entire life had been suffering since he had made the fatal mistake of falling in love with the wrong woman. There was no hatred in his heart towards the man, only pity. He made restraints using his earth powers, and ensured that he would remain stationary while he tended to Micael.

Walking over to where he had placed the boy, he attempted to rouse him gently. "Micael, wake up, please." Opening his eyes, Micael smiled gratefully at Cyrus standing over him.

"Thank you, Cyrus. It's because of you that I was able to realize my true strength."

"I thank you more than all, because you taught me something important. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, but all that we can do is try to make them right. I never told you, but I knew a boy like you when I was younger. I never did anything to help him, and I could never stop feeling guilty for letting him stay so alone like that. I guess you were my second chance... but there's one more thing we need to do. Iris is still in trouble. Will you help me? It could be dangerous."

Micael nodded emphatically, grinning. "And what you just did wasn't?"

They both laughed, but grew serious as he explained the situation with Iris to Micael.

"So you want me to go into her dream, and see if I might be able to help her?"

"Yes. I did it before, but she'll need someone to join with permanently. I... I can't ask you to do this. It's too much."

"You want me to join with her?"

"I wanted to, but it's not something that I have any right to decide. It comes down to you."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Just lie on the disc there, and try to sleep. You'll be connected with her. But listen, if you get scared or decide you want to stop, just wake yourself up. I'm sure she'll understand."

He nodded, and clambered up onto the disc, closing his eyes.

"Good luck," Cyrus said softly.

Everything around him was darkness. Yet within it he could sense the movements of a vast, mysterious being, her many thought-pictures flickering at him through the void.

Iris? he asked wordlessly, in a manner as natural as thinking to himself.

Yes, she replied. Why is it that I can understand you so easily? Everything has become clear to me again. With the other, it was very confused.

I think I know how you feel more, is all. Cyrus hasn't really lost anyone before.

Ah... I am sorry about your mother.

Don't worry about it. I think she'd be happy to see me as I am now.

Would you be... agreeable to... but I suppose it is highly irregular...

Become your counterpart? Sure.

It would be the first male to join with one of the flowers.

There's a first time for everything. Besides, you can see how easy it is for us to talk. It's like how it was with Maria.

You know, that is the first time I have been able to think of her without suffering. Perhaps we both need each other. Am I to be your Elena, and you my Maria?

Why not?

Cyrus was growing anxious, wondering what precisely was occurring in Iris' vast dreamworld. Unexpectedly, Micael arose from the disc looking curiously different. Cyrus peered at his eyes, and realized that they had turned into fantastic gems of infinite colors. He cried out in wonder upon seeing how the boy had been transformed.

"How can this be?"

"Both of us decided that we'd be better off together. We are now Iris. Ah, it is so wonderful to be together at last! It seems now that neither of us were really complete without the other." The youth who was no longer a youth stepped down off the disc with an air of regality, and it descended swiftly into the dais below it.

"Now, it's time to put right all the damage we have caused."

Closing his/her eyes, the dual entity focused intently on the entire world at once, reverting to the primeval awareness which Iris favored for such efforts.

Gently drifting clouds overlooked the green, vibrant and thriving earth. All of the energies that Iris had blindly consumed in her lost state, she now restored to the globe in the form of a soft sparkling mist which came from everywhere and infused itself with all life on the planet. The immense quantities of sunlight that she had drawn away from her grandmother, she now returned, and the bright flow of a starry river flowed outward from the planet towards the glowing globe of the sun, restoring her to her former potency and brilliance. Relieved at last of the terrible sapping of her energies, the mother resumed her part in the dance with even greater delight than before, and everything felt overjoyed at this new event.

Returning to the present, Cyrus gawked as he could actually see the sun regaining its former strength. He was immensely gratified that at long last, the mission which he had worked so hard to accomplish was achieved, with the help of all those he had met along the way.

Noting a new presence approaching, the new Iris peered with his/her marvelous eyes towards the south, and remarked, "Someone is coming to see you," smiling mysteriously.

"Who?" he asked in bemusement.

"You'll see," he/she said with a grin.

Anxious to see who was arriving, Cyrus rushed outside to look on. Approaching through the maze of ice floes, he saw the hermit from the Ilesian forest who had revealed the secret of his music box. He hailed the man down, and met him at the edge of the frigid waters.

"Cyrus! Oh, Cyrus. I was coming to help you, but it seems that I am already too late," he chuckled. "Your friend has merged with Iris, I see. Then all the tasks have been completed, it seems. Except for one, which is my own."

"I... you remember how I told you of the woman I left so cruelly? After I met you, I decided that the time for cowardice was over, and returned to apologize to her as best I could. I arrived to her village to find that one of the Accademians had been stricken with some kind of strange enchantment, from which I freed him. But later, when I met her, she told me that she had borne a son. My shame doubled again, but she forgave me immediately, glad that I had at last come back. But my guilt remains, for the one person whose forgiveness was even more important wasn't there to judge."

"The forgiveness of that son... you. My son," he said, savoring the taste of the words he had never before uttered.

Cyrus was completely stunned. He was at a loss for words. His father? He had been without one for all the time he could remember. His eyes were stung with joyful tears.

"I forgive you, Father. Oh, you are pardoned a thousand times!" he exclaimed, embracing him tightly.

"I think that, at last, it is time for both of us to go home."

Cyrus went back one last time to hug the child who was not a child, and bid farewell to him properly.

"You're happy this way, both of you?"

He/she smiled. "Of course. It is an experience which has already made both of us greater in stature. We thank you for all that you have done to bring us together."

"It was the least I could do. But I almost forgot! What will you do with Kamril?"

Iris regarded him where he lay unconscious on the ground with a compassionate expression. "We will make him forget all the suffering he has undergone. In time, he will be suitable to become the Gardener for Rallia once again. In the meantime, go! Be with your family. All will be well from now on."

"You know how much it's meant to me. Farewell!"

"You'll have to visit sometime," Iris said slyly. "Or, perhaps we will visit you. We are, after all, everywhere."

"Good bye!"

He boarded the boat, and the two set off on the long trip home. But it would not nearly be as long as the trip they had taken going out. Any adventure, it seemed, was always much longer than one intended it to be.

Upon his arrival back in the village of Norven, Fiella was in the yard of their cottage stringing up the washing to dry in the summer sun. The sweet scent of the air reminded him of the very different day in autumn when he wanted so desperately to leave. Now, however, there was no place he would rather be in the whole of the world. His mother turned and saw the pair of them, dropping her bundle and rushing towards them with joy. He thought he heard a child's voice singing high and sweetly upon the wind, but it was gone in an instant, yet there was no regret in its passing. As the sun shone merrily upon their embrace, Cyrus was at last glad to be home.