Rrillandral Lehibeborn sat in an unpainted wooden carriage, the wood a healthy brown with just a tint of green. It wasn't formed of planks or boards, but rather appeared grown, a single piece without join or seam, as if a tree had simply decided that carriage-shaped was the look it wanted to aim for. Not a single nail held it together.

The wheels were a particularly impressive feat of biological engineering. In order to rotate without the entire carriage spinning or the axles twisting themselves to breaking point, a series of interlocking branches had been carefully intertwined in a fluid-filled sphere.

"Hmm..." pondered Rrillandral. "I'd be concerned taking it off-road, but the flexible undercarriage is plenty good enough to absorb the bumps of inner-city travel. The design is ingenious."

"Thank you," beamed Dreobeth, who was sitting on the seat opposite her, dressed in a carefully tailored suit. Of course, being three inches tall, his feet didn't quite reach the floor, nor his back the back rest. His bum barely touched the cushion. "I'm impressed that your control was good enough to implement it, though. I could never have grown it myself."

"Combining multiple disparate schools of thought often results in interesting outcomes," smiled the elf, who herself was dressed in something closer to native Myllearn fashion than the ankle-length gowns historically preferred in Flinel. The previous month had seen a rather rapid change in fashion, with hemlines creeping upwards almost daily. "I would like to call your thought processes unique, but..."

"But you've met Mystery," snorted the former demon.

"Indeed. So many interesting characters have cropped up recently. I feel an optimism I haven't experienced in a long while."

"That's an alien thought process right there. What sort of race invents something as pointless as boredom? Xander could just stand and stare at a tree for a month at a time. No-one quite like Xander for emotionless staring. It was something about his face..."

"You miss your former allies?"

"Eh. Not really. Xander had his moments of inspiration, but to be honest, you mostly spoilt it for me when you pointed out how bloody stupid we all were."

Rrillandral made a point of not apologising.

"How is that weird little [Hero] doing, anyway?" continued Dreobeth. "It's already been a month since the forest. Has she shown any signs of recovery?"

"Alas not; we haven't heard anything from her at all," answered Rrillandral, frowning. In this case, no news was not good news.

Kellela lay in bed, staring morosely at the ceiling. Hayedalf lay next to her, for a definition of 'next' that at least involved being in the same bed, but so far away they could barely hold hands.

"So, this is our next fifteen years?" he grumbled.

Kellela didn't answer.

"The victory ball starts in an hour. We really should have left already, and you haven't even got out of bed."

"... I don't feel like celebrating."

Hayedalf thought—but took great care not to say—that it was a pity Mystery had never taught anyone [Cosplay]. The spell would have saved vast amounts of time getting ready for any sort of event, but mentioning Mystery's name within earshot of Kellela was currently taboo.

"Come on. The priests said it would take weeks to months for her to heal. It's too early to give up yet."

Kellela maintained the air of someone who had very much given up.

"Perhaps meeting her full magical girl squad for the first time since the demon lord will be enough to rouse her?"

Kellela twitched.

"You know, I'm not sure why, but I have the impression that she really wouldn't want to miss the official announcement of Rose and Grace's betrothal, either," continued Hayedalf, pressing his advantage.

Kellela sat up. "I know what you're doing," she muttered. "I appreciate the effort, but you know that if this doesn't wake her up, I'm just going to end up feeling even worse."

"Then I'll just need to think up something even better for next time," he grinned. "I'm hardly going to leave you alone in your depression."

"You're a [Master Enchanter]. If you're that desperate for sex, I'm sure you can build something."

"A [Magical Enchantress]," corrected Hayedalf. "And besides, I already did. Do you really think I need an ulterior motive to cheer you up?"

Kellela froze. "You what? When we get back, you are showing me. And then I'm burning whatever it is."

"What?" exclaimed a panicked Hayedalf, desperately thinking of excuses to save his magical toy collection. "But you just told me to make something! Anyway, we don't have time for this right now. We need to get dressed."

"For friendship and justice, demon slaying magical girl Lotus Pink, transform!" chanted Kellela, who suddenly looked ten years younger. "There, I'm dressed."

"Seriously?"

"Magical girl dresses are perfectly acceptable attire these days, whether the wearer is actually transformed or not," shrugged Kellela.

"Fine," said Hayedalf, the pitch of his voice raising as he transformed himself to match. "I know when to cut my losses. At this point, I'll accept just getting you out of the house."

Hayedalf helped Kellela into a carriage, but, of course, the spell wore off long before they arrived, at which point Hayedalf spotted the ploy he'd fallen for.

"You're still wearing your nightclothes," he pointed out.

"Well, yes. Obviously. Did you see me get changed?" asked Kellela. "We'll just have to make sure we're home before our mana runs out."

"At least you're saying 'our', so you'll accept a recharge or two from me."

Kellela flashed her husband a look of confusion before shifting her gaze downwards.

Hayedalf followed it, the visible flesh below reminding him that he hadn't got dressed before transforming either, and that he generally slept naked.

"Yes. We're definitely coming home before our mana runs out," he agreed.

In Grace's royal dressing room, a palace maid attempted to tame Rose's unruly hair. Not exactly having far to go to the ballroom, and already dressed in the same blue ballgown as last time, she wasn't worried at all about the time.

Nevertheless, when Grace walked in yawning, still wearing nothing but a nightie, she couldn't help but feel the [Magical Princess] was cutting things a bit fine.

"Aren't you dressed yet?" Rose asked. "We're supposed to assemble in half an hour."

Grace looked down. "For friendship and justice, demon slaying magical girl Jasper White, transform?" she asked, as if the spell was a question. Jasper White looked back up.

Rose stared.

"You're going out like that? In public? Deliberately?"

"I've been watching the stream of arrivals from my bedroom. Believe me, Jasper White is quite a modest design compared to some of them. There seems to be a rumour going around that skimpier outfits result in stronger transformations. And I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the way dresses suddenly seem to be acceptable clothing for men, even when not transformed."

"Don't see why not," shrugged Rose. "Why should whether someone has a penis or not affect what clothing it's fashionable to wear?"

"It's not the penis that's the problem. It's the lack of breasts; it completely changes the shape," pointed out Grace, who realised her mistake mid-sentence, but had unfortunately already been committed and didn't have the leeway to abort.

Rose looked down at her flat chest. A chest that hadn't grown at all over the past month, and thanks to [The Final Cycle], probably wouldn't change significantly for years.

"I mean, on someone young, it's fine!" exclaimed Grace, digging a hole for herself at record speed. "It couples well with the lack of height. You're very cute!"

"... Cute?"

"Ma'am?" chimed in the maid, finally done with Rose's hair. "If you'll forgive my impudence, may I humbly suggest that you stop talking?"

Grace humbly took the advice of the maid and stopped talking, despite wanting to complain at Rose for wearing the same dress twice in a row. Wearing the same dress to two balls was not something that was done. It was considered lazy and cheap.

She knew Rose's opinion; that the first time didn't count because she was too nervous to experience it properly, but that was hardly an excuse nobility would accept.

Instead, she smiled silently at Rose as she stood up from her stool, and then offered her a hand.

Rose giggled and took it, giving Grace a quick peck on the cheek as the pair left the dressing room and headed towards an antechamber at the back of the ballroom.

"This feels a lot different to when we were last here," she said. "I'm not nearly so terrified."

Grace didn't answer.

"... You are allowed to speak, you know."

"I know," laughed Grace. "I was just busy burning that kiss into my memory."

"Wow. Leaping straight from legendary ranked hole digging to a mythical charm offensive."

The pair waited patiently until the door opened again, revealing Rrillandral with Dreobeth sitting on her shoulder, greeting the pair with a polite nod.

"Long time no see," greeted Rose.

"Long time?" asked Rrillandral, tilting her head in confusion. "Oh, I suppose that for a human, a month could indeed be considered a long time. I look forward to seeing how your mentality has changed a century or two from now."

"Urk..." muttered Rose, taking a heavy wound from the second reminder of how delayed her growth was going to be.

"Dreobeth?" asked Grace, not entirely comfortable with the idea of a demon as an ally, even if his official race had apparently changed. "Why are you here?"

"Where else should I go?" he asked. "Where do you think I belong now?"

"The demonic forest?"

The dark pixie and the elf shared a look, Dreobeth giving a small but noticeable shudder. "No," he stated flatly. "That is very much no longer a place to which I belong."

Grace raised a questioning eyebrow.

"We paid a visit last week to check up on its state," explained Rrillandral, stepping in for the apparently traumatised nephalem. "I can confirm that the white egg is as yet unhatched, and has not been communicative, and the forest no longer gives rise to monsters or demons. However, in the place of monsters, it's full of... things."

"Things? What sort of explanation is that?"

"An explanation is difficult. But if you decide to venture in to see with your own eyes, I recommend you bring treats. The new denizens seem especially fond of cake. Should you get surrounded, throw one into the air and run in the opposite direction."

"The heck?" asked Rose.

Dreobeth gave another shudder. "They just wouldn't shut up... No matter how much I begged, they would not stop..." he muttered, all light gone from his eyes.

Rose and Grace looked at each other.

""Mystery..."" they agreed, just as the door handle clicked.

"Hello?" called Rose when it didn't open.

Grace opened it to reveal Kellela standing behind, shaking. Hayedalf was behind her, face in his palm.

"... Oops," said Grace, while Rose winced. "We really should start using a codeword instead of her name."

"Seriously?" moaned Dreobeth, lifting off from his perch on Rrillandral. His white wing left a trail of glitter in the air as he flew, an effect he hadn't been able to get rid of however hard he tried, and the reason he'd taken to spending so much time sitting down. "Again? Is this going to happen every single time you hear the word 'Mystery'?"

Kellela flinched at the second mention, and an aghast Rose made a grab at Dreobeth, who evaded in a burst of sparkles.

And then he slapped Kellela.

"Snap out of it, woman! That daughter of yours saved countless lives, permanently slew one of the world's greatest enemies, and earned two mythical achievements in the process. She isn't just a [Hero] but a hero. A proper one, willing to put her life at risk to fight for what she believes in. Yes, what she believes in is a bit... off... but that in no way detracts from her achievement. And even if she was injured, she survived! She'll recover. You'll meet her again, whether it's tomorrow, a year from now or a century from now. Maybe she'll remember you, or maybe you'll have the joy of discovering each other all over again. But either way, you will meet again, and when you do, do you really think she'll be happy to find you spent the intervening time sulking? No, she'd want you to be happy! She'd probably also want you to spread the magic of love and friendship or some such crap, too, but I'll be perfectly happy if you ignore that bit."

There was a moment of silence as the room attempted to process whatever the hell had just happened, and then Rose started applauding.

"What he said," agreed Rrillandral. "Except possibly a little more politely, and without the physical violence."

"He did raise valid points," nodded Grace.

Kellela floundered for a little, then looked down at herself, taking in what she was wearing, and how deeply she'd grown used to it. The influence of Mystery was hard to miss, and it was certainly true that her unborn baby was still living and in good health. But human brains are never great at behaving logically, and emotions couldn't simply be switched off. Telling someone depressed to snap out of it was rarely a good solution, but it was obvious the entire group cared about her well-being. They were all good friends. Even the little half-demon.

And if there was one point Mystery had tried to drill into them all, it was that friendship was magical.

"Sorry. Let's go celebrate Mystery's victory," she declared, managing to do little more than wince at using the name of her daughter. "And then let's see if we can get [Magical Girl Transformation] to work on Dreobeth."

"... Even think about trying that and I swear I shall devote the rest of my life to resurrecting the demon lord."

"You should have worried about that before slapping me," smirked Kellela as the group lined up, waiting for the announcement and fanfare that would be their signal to enter the ballroom.

And as the fanfare started, Hayedalf smiled at seeing Kellela more lively than she had been in weeks.