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Children of Solomon

Epilogue: Granted

"I wish…"

A sigh sounded within the small cabin. The only source of light was a cheap, old lamp on a desk. The light at its spout flickered, offering a faint light to write and read.

Once, it had held a power that made kings and changed fates.

Prince Shion sat back as he re-read his final line. That was all. There was nothing more to add onto the leather-bound journal he had used to recount his adventures and discoveries. Of course, these were events that technically never happened thanks to his wish and the actions of many.

Shion looked at his ink stained hands and tried not to think of blood and smoke. He tried to think of seawater wind, of Mahrajan festivities, and of hummed melodies. There were so many memories he created here. So many bonds. So many pulled and pinned rubber bands. It was so much more than what he made in the timeline that no longer existed. It must be or what was the point?

Shion glanced at the lamp again. Its dents spoke of how much it went through in his hands as both a weapon and a wish-granter. To him, it was still as magical. A lucky charm. A piece of sentiment of a friend who was long gone.

Djinn did not exist in this world anymore.

Still, Shion ran a thumb over the surface of the lamp and closed his eyes.

"I wish…"

For what? More time? More miracles? …For things to stay as they were?

"I wish…"

The door to his cabin suddenly slammed open. Shion jumped and whirled around to face a red-faced Dinah. Behind her, a firework flew up into the sky and painted it with beautiful colors. Shion's breath caught at the sight and time restarted again, marching forward and leaving everything that Shion feared and fought against behind in the journal's pages.

Then, he laughed. His fears all seemed so silly now. What was he doing? Turning to empty lamps for more wishes. How ridiculous. Everything he ever wanted was outside.

The only direction now was onwards.

"Come on, Shion! It's already starting! Let's go! Let's go!" Dinah impatiently pulled her brother from his chair and through the doorway, slamming the door shut behind her as she led him over to the people he loved on the other side.

The burst of wind from the force of the door should have snuffed the lamplight right out, but, against all odds, it persisted. It shone over the single line that Shion had written.

'The world was burning.'

To those who has been with me in the beginning, joined me in the middle, or reached here far after the end:

Thank you for taking this journey. A story is nothing without its readers and it has been an honor to tell this tale to its end.

Good Night.