Author's Note: This was a project I wanted to keep under wraps until it was a little closer to being finished but since I've been struggling with it for a few years now and it isn't any closer to done there's no point. This fic was concocted shortly after finishing Twilight of the Spirits, not knowing there was going to be a sequel (and I still haven't played it), and basically continues from the end of the game. I have no intention of steering it towards what the sequel intended, so you can consider it an AU.
I'm still in love with the fic and the fandom, I just can't work with it as well these days. ::sigh::

Disclaimer: I make no claims to either the characters or the series of Arc the Lad in this chapter or any hereafter. I just have fun with them from time to time. Also, I make no money from publishing this little piece of fiction.

Prologue – The End of the World as we know it is not really the End.

Cragh Island

The sun was just beginning to peek over the watery horizon before the last embers of the fire finally died down. Wide-eyed villagers, who had celebrated so enthusiastically when the remnants of the floating castle had sunk into the sea, had finally succumbed to exhaustion and trudged back to their wooden huts for a few hours of sleep before the sun rose in earnest. The Slothians who shared the village had barely roused at all during the activity, only waking long enough to enjoy the offered food, and they had long since settled back into slumber.

The only ones still awake were the small group strangers who had washed up on the beach shortly after the castle had started to fall. Each kept a silent vigil over the dying fire made by the villagers, lost in their own thoughts and memories. Anywhere else, the strange scene would have been unthinkable, Human and Deimos sat side by side in an almost companionable manner. For this one night, the past had been forgotten in the face of an enemy, and they had emerged triumphant where they had been almost sure to fail.

Even if they had not been sitting by their worst enemies, each group would have been considered unusual by their respective races. Mercenaries sat shoulder to shoulder with princes, scientists to warriors. Drakyr, Lupine, Orcon and monster, each huddled in the cool morning air, wondering what was to come.

Tomorrow, this peace would be broken. The two groups would separate to do the best they could to help their respective species. The rest of the world was most likely in chaos now. The moment they Spirits had departed, they tiny blue stones that had provided energy for everything, from magic to kitchen stoves, had lost their power and turned to dust. There was no more power for the humans, no more magic for the Deimos. Their old way of life was gone forever.

Tomorrow, they would be enemies again. As soon as they left this island, the lines would be drawn once more, Humans on one side, Deimos on the other. Things would return to the way they had been for centuries, and sooner or later both groups would cross paths and have to clash once more.

But all that would happen tomorrow, so for this one night they could all pretend that tomorrow was still a long time off, and that the fighting was truly finished.