The peace was real this time. The Dramaturg, now a reformed (and slightly less dramatic) editor in the Great Library, became a valuable ally, his deep understanding of narrative helping to guide the fledgling realities that the Librarians discovered. The multiverse was a bustling, chaotic, and mostly harmonious place.
Nox and Serian lived their quiet life. They grew old. Not in the slow, graceful way of their previous life, but in the real, messy, and beautiful way of mortals. They had children, and their children had children. They were surrounded by a family that was a mix of their own blood and the thousand different souls they had welcomed into their valley.
Their story was reaching its quiet, gentle end.
One evening, as they sat on their porch, watching their great-grandchildren play in the fields, a new visitor arrived.
It was not a god or a cosmic entity. It was a child. A young girl, with eyes that held the infinite, starry wisdom of the multiverse.
