Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 5 Chapter 32 The Blood Wraith

 

Chapter 32  The Blood Wraith

Winter consumed everything. The meadow was gone. The flowers were gone. The warm summer wind that once carried laughter across the grasslands had vanished as though it had never existed. Only snow remained. Only silence. Only Nico. The newly born White King stood alone beneath a sky of endless gray. Tall and regal with pale skin like marble, short silver-blond hair, icy blue eyes, white and silver royal armor, crown of living ice,

Glaciers surrounded him. Towering walls of ice that had not existed an hour ago now stretched across the horizon like the bones of a dead god rising from beneath the earth. Frozen rivers wound through crystal valleys. Snow drifted endlessly through the air. The world had become white. Beautiful. Empty. Dead. Nico stood at the center of it all. Motionless. His hair had become white as fresh snowfall. Not silver. Not blond. White. A color stripped of warmth. A color stripped of life. The frozen wind pulled at the long strands while his pale eyes stared toward the distant forest where Moon had disappeared. Or rather where he had been taken. The Blood Wraith. The strange creature born from grief and instinct. The shadow-born guardian that had emerged from Nico's despair. It had carried Moon away. Carried him into the ancient wilderness. Away from the kingdom. Away from Everfrost. Away from Nico. Nico knew it would not last. The thing had been temporary. A construct. A manifestation. A desperate fragment of a shattered soul. Like mist. Like shadow. Like frost beneath sunlight. Sooner or later it would dissolve. Return to the darkness that birthed it. And when it vanished Moon would be alone. The thought should have horrified him. Instead he felt nothing. Or perhaps he felt too much. The distinction no longer mattered. His chest felt hollow. As though someone had carved something out of him and left only cold emptiness behind. Because the truth was simple. Moon was gone. And everything that had once made the world beautiful had disappeared with him. The flowers. The sunlight. The future. All gone. Nico stared toward the forest. And remembered. Moon smiling. Moon laughing. Moon gathering wildflowers beside a lake. Moon reaching for his hand. Moon saying his name. The memories felt like knives. Every one of them.

Eemil approached cautiously through the snow. Even the future Shadow King looked uneasy now. The wind tugged at his dark cloak. Snow collected upon his shoulders. His silver eyes studied the frozen wasteland around them. Then studied Nico. Then studied the distant forest. Finally he asked:

"What was that?"

His voice sounded small. Uncertain. For perhaps the first time in his life Eemil did not have an answer. Nico never looked at him. Because he already knew. Deep down. Beneath the snow. Beneath the grief. Beneath the endless screaming silence inside his mind. He knew exactly what the Blood Wraith had been. It was him. Not truly. Not physically. But spiritually. Emotionally. A fragment. A wound given shape. The part of him that still loved Moon. The part of him that still hoped. The part of him that still believed Moon could forgive him. The part that refused to let go. And suddenly Nico hated it. Hated it with every piece of himself. Because love hurt. Love had destroyed him. Love had destroyed Moon. Love had turned paradise into tragedy. Love had transformed summer into winter. Love had become a curse. His hand moved to his chest. The pain exploded instantly. Not physical. Something far worse. His soul felt torn. Ripped apart. Split cleanly down the middle. Half frozen. Half burning. Half desperate to forget. Half desperate to remember forever. The contradiction was unbearable. Nico screamed. The sound shattered the silence. Mountains answered. Glaciers cracked. The sky darkened. The storm intensified. Snow became a blizzard. Entire cliffs collapsed beneath the force of his grief. Ice erupted from the earth. Frozen towers pierced the heavens. The kingdom of Everfrost expanded outward in all directions. A monument born from heartbreak. A crown forged from sorrow. And then Nico reached into his chest. Not flesh. Not bone. Not blood. Something deeper. His fingers disappeared beneath reality itself.

Eemil staggered backward. Matias stopped smiling. Stopped joking. Stopped breathing. Both stared in horror. Because this wasn't magic. This wasn't power. This wasn't divinity. This was grief made tangible. This was heartbreak becoming real. Nico's face twisted in agony. His entire body trembled violently. The storm howled louder. The world shook. And slowly, very slowly he pulled. Something emerged. Silver. Red. Radiant. Alive. A heart. Not mortal flesh. Not an organ. A soul. His soul. The heart Moon had touched. The heart Moon had trusted. The heart Moon had loved. The heart Nico had betrayed. It glowed softly within his trembling hands. Every heartbeat echoed memories. Moon laughing beside a lake. Moon sleeping beneath stars. Moon gathering berries. Moon brushing snow from his shoulders. Moon whispering his name. Moon saying

"I know."

The memory nearly destroyed him. Because Moon had known. Known he was loved. Known Nico's heart belonged to him. Known every secret Nico never spoke aloud. And still, still he had trusted him completely. The White King screamed again. Louder. Louder than the storm. Louder than the glaciers. Louder than the world itself. Frozen mountains rose from the earth. Entire valleys crystallized instantly. The landscape transformed into a monument dedicated to heartbreak. A kingdom built from regret. Nico stared down at the glowing heart. For one terrible moment he considered crushing it. Ending it. Ending the memories.

Ending the pain. Ending the love. His fingers tightened. The heart pulsed weakly. Alive. Desperate. Refusing to die. Then a voice spoke. Softly. Gently. Inside his mind.

"Nico."

Moon's voice. The White King froze. Instantly. His fingers loosened. The heart continued beating. Because no matter how much winter covered the world he could not destroy the part of himself that loved Moon. He simply couldn't. And realizing that broke him more completely than anything before. The heart slipped from his hands. Falling into the snow. Silver-red light erupted outward. The blizzard stopped. The wind died. The world became still. Perfectly still. The heart cracked. Not broken. Opened. Like a flower. Like a cocoon. Like a birth. And from within emerged a figure. Tall. Handsome. Terrible. A young man dressed almost entirely in black. A crimson cloak flowed behind him like liquid blood. Golden-blond hair. Blue eyes. The same face. The same soul. The same man. And yet not. Where Nico radiated winter this being radiated burning longing. Where Nico carried cold despair this being carried warm devotion. Where Nico froze everything around him this being burned with impossible love. The figure opened his eyes. And immediately looked toward the forest. Toward Moon. Toward the place where the celestial had vanished. Then he smiled. A sad smile. A gentle smile. A loving smile. The smile Nico had forgotten how to make. The Blood Wraith had been born. Not a temporary construct. Not a shadow. Not a spell. Something real. Something alive. Something eternal. The White King stared. Unable to look away. Because he was staring at the part of himself he could never kill. The part that would never stop loving Moon. Not after betrayal. Not after centuries. Not after kingdoms rose and fell. Not after the end of the world. The Blood Wraith turned toward him. Blue eyes met blue eyes. Winter met love. For a long moment neither spoke. Words were unnecessary. Both understood.Then the Blood Wraith smiled sadly. And whispered:

"I'll find him."

Nico's breath caught. The Blood Wraith looked toward the forest again. Toward Moon. Toward spring. Toward everything he had lost. Then he reached upward. Black cloth wrapped around his lower face. A hood rose over his blond hair. Concealing everything except his eyes. The same eyes Moon loved. The same eyes Nico could no longer bear to see. Then he turned. And walked away. Step by step. Into the trees. Into legend. Into history. Into destiny. Leaving the White King behind. Alone. Or so he believed. And thus Nico's soul divided. One half became Winter. One half became Love. One half ruled Everfrost. One half searched endlessly for Moon. One half became the White King. The other became the Blood Wraith. One became a king. The other became a ghost. And neither would ever truly know peace again.

Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 5 Chapter 33 The Tower of Tears

 

Chapter 33  The Tower of Tears

Moon should have died. The stake had pierced his heart. The betrayal had shattered his soul. The blood loss alone should have ended everything. Yet Moon still breathed. Barely. Weakly. Like a candle moments from extinction. The Blood Wraith carried him through the forest. Through snow. Through darkness. Through grief. The black-clad figure moved without rest. Without hesitation. Without purpose beyond one simple truth. Moon must live. Nothing else mattered. Not kingdoms. Not gods. Not immortality. Only Moon. 

The forest stretched endlessly. Ancient trees towered overhead. The snowstorm raged behind them. Everfrost was growing. Expanding. The birth cry of the White King. But far from the frozen kingdom Another tragedy wandered alone. Johannes. The chosen boy whose touch brought decay. The boy who no longer wished to fight. The boy who had accidentally harmed those he cared about. Johannes walked through the wilderness in silence.

His eyes were hollow. His hands remained hidden. Because everything they touched died. Flowers. Animals. Even people. The power terrified him. The loneliness terrified him more. The young man wandered without direction. Without purpose. Without hope. Until he found the roses. Roses should not have grown there. Not in the wilderness. Not among snow. Not in a battlefield. Yet hundreds bloomed. Thousands. Crimson petals. Silver petals. Endless roses. Their thorned vines twisted across the meadow. Protecting something. Guarding something. Johannes approached slowly. Curiously. The flowers parted. Not from fear. Recognition. As though they knew him. As though they understood sorrow. And there At the center of the rose garden Moon lay sleeping. The Blood Wraith knelt beside him. Silent. Watchful. Devoted. The sight stole Johannes' breath. Moon looked unreal. Beautiful. Fragile. Like a prince trapped inside a fairy tale. White robes stained with silver-red blood. Long black hair spread across the flowers. Pale skin glowing softly. A sleeping beauty guarded by thorns. And protruding from his chest The wooden stake. Johannes immediately understood. The weapon remained lodged inside Moon's heart. The source of the wound. The source of the suffering. The source of everything.

The Blood Wraith looked toward him. Blue eyes. Ancient sorrow. Neither spoke. Words felt unnecessary. Johannes slowly knelt. The roses did not stop him. The Blood Wraith did not stop him. Moon remained unconscious. Breathing weakly. Barely. Johannes reached toward the stake. His hand trembled. Because his power only destroyed. His power only ruined things. His power never healed. Never saved. Never helped. Yet for the first time He wanted to try. Slowly. Carefully. He wrapped his fingers around the wood. And pulled. The stake slid free. Silver-red blood erupted from the wound. Moon gasped. Coughed violently. His body arched. And a spray of blood struck Johannes directly across the face. Across his lips. Across his eyes. Into his mouth. The world exploded. Silver light. Red light. Moonlight. Dreams. Memories. Love. Pain. Johannes screamed. His power reacted instantly. Decay erupted from his body. Black mist exploded across the forest. Trees withered. Grass died. Flowers blackened. The earth itself seemed to rot. Yet something else happened. Something impossible. Moon's blood entered him. Divine blood. The blood of a future Moon God. The blood of a celestial beloved by countless beings. And Johannes changed. The decay did not vanish. It evolved. Darkness swirled around him. The mist became heavier. Stronger. Alive. The corruption obeyed him now. Not perfectly. But enough. Johannes fell to his knees. Tears streamed down his face. Because he could feel Moon's sorrow. The betrayal. The heartbreak. The loneliness. The love. All of it. For a brief moment Johannes understood. And that understanding changed him forever. The future Dark King had been born. Moon slowly opened his eyes. Weak. Confused. Alive. The celestial looked toward Johannes. Then toward the Blood Wraith. Then toward the ruined forest. Moon said nothing. His eyes already carried enough sadness. Johannes could not bear it. Not after everything. Not after seeing what love had done. Not after feeling Moon's pain. He stood. Wiped his eyes. And made a decision. A simple decision. If Moon could not return to the world Then the world would come to Moon. Johannes raised his hands. Decay answered. Darkness answered. Stone answered. The earth trembled. The forest shook. Mountains groaned. Roots split apart. And from the ground A tower rose. Black stone. Twisted spires. Countless thorns. Sharp enough to pierce the heavens. The structure climbed endlessly upward. A monument to sorrow. A monument to grief. A monument to the sleeping celestial inside. The Tower of Tears.

Its highest chamber overlooked endless forests. Its gardens bloomed with impossible flowers. Its walls protected Moon from the world. Protected him from hunters. Protected him from kings. Protected him from destiny. For a little while. 

When the tower was complete, Johannes returned to Moon. The celestial was still weak. Still pale. Still trembling from the wound that should have killed him. Moon tried to stand. His legs failed immediately. Johannes caught him before he could fall. For a moment neither spoke. Moon looked up at him. Those dark eyes carried exhaustion deeper than sleep. Deeper than grief. Johannes felt his chest tighten. No one should have suffered so much. No one. Without a word, Johannes carefully lifted Moon into his arms. Like a bride. One arm beneath his knees. The other supporting his back. Moon was frighteningly light. Far too light. As though sorrow itself had hollowed him out. His long black hair spilled over Johannes's arm like liquid midnight. The white robes draped softly around him. Moon blinked in surprise. But he was too exhausted to protest. Too tired to resist. Too tired to care. 

Johannes carried him toward the tower. Slowly. Carefully. As though carrying something sacred. The Blood Wraith followed behind them. Silent as ever. The great doors opened on their own. Black stone parted. The Tower of Tears welcomed its first resident. Johannes crossed the threshold carrying Moon in his arms. Like a knight returning with a wounded prince. Like a guardian protecting the last star in the sky. Like a lonely boy trying desperately to save someone he could not bear to lose. 

The halls stretched endlessly around them. Dark stone. Silver roses. Moonlight pouring through towering windows. Beautiful. Melancholic. Lonely. A reflection of its creator. Johannes climbed the winding stairs. Step by step. Never once loosening his hold. Never once allowing Moon to stumble. At last they reached the highest chamber. The room overlooked all of Elyria. Forests. Mountains. Rivers. Kingdoms yet to be born.

Johannes gently lowered Moon onto a bed woven from silver vines and moonlit flowers. The celestial sank into the cushions. Exhausted. Safe. For the first time since the betrayal. For the first time since the stake pierced his heart. For the first time in what felt like forever. Moon closed his eyes. And rested. Johannes remained beside him. Watching. Guarding. As though afraid Moon might disappear if left alone.

Johannes looked upon the tower. And understood that he would never leave. Not truly. This place would become his kingdom. His prison. His sanctuary. His curse. The future Tower of Tears. The future Tower of Fangs. The future home where centuries later

A blond boy named Toivo would arrive. And fall in love with the same moonlit god. Without ever realizing that the tower itself had been built from heartbreak. Built from betrayal. Built by a lonely young man who once saved Moon's life.   And carried him like a bride into the tower's heart. And as the first moon rose above the black spires The Dark King watched over the sleeping celestial.

While deep within the tower Moon dreamed. Of blue eyes. Of summer. And of a boy who had broken his heart.

Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 5 Chapter 34 The Ice Earl

 

Chapter 34  The Ice Earl

The Northmen lost. Not a small defeat. Not a setback. A disaster. Snow covered the battlefield. Broken shields littered the ice. Axes lay abandoned beside frozen corpses. Men who had survived wolves, giants, monsters, and war now stood trapped forever within crystal prisons of ice. The mountain valley had become a graveyard. And at its center The Ice Earl stood victorious. He was enormous. Not as large as a Frost Giant. Yet somehow more terrifying. Ancient frost covered his armor. Blue-white runes glowed across steel and bone. A crown of living ice had fused into his skull centuries ago. Snow swirled endlessly around him. The blizzard obeyed his every command. He was winter given thought. Winter given hatred. Winter given a throne. And before him Toivo struggled to stand. Blood stained the snow. His blood. The Wolfskin Cloak hung torn around his shoulders. His axe trembled in his hands. His body ached. His ribs were broken. One eye had swollen shut. Frostbite crawled across his arms. Yet he refused to fall. Again. And again. And again. The Ice Earl struck him down. Walls of ice erupted from the earth. Frozen spears rained from the heavens. Glaciers shattered mountainsides. The Northmen could do nothing. They were warriors. This was a force of nature. Nearby Gret struggled to rise. The giant warrior looked nearly as battered as Toivo. His Ironheart Form had protected him from death. Not defeat. Not exhaustion. Not despair. The Ice Earl raised one hand. The storm intensified. A mountain of ice appeared overhead. Large enough to crush an entire army. Toivo looked upward. For the first time He felt helpless. Not afraid. Helpless. The feeling tasted bitter. Because he remembered another battle. Years ago. A tower. A god. Moon. Back then someone had always protected him. Moon. Kev. The daughters. Someone. But now No one would save him. The mountain of ice began falling. 

The Northmen screamed. The world turned white. And suddenly Silver light erupted from Toivo's chest. The Angel's Egg. The pendant Moon had given him years ago. The silver cage glowed. Brighter. Brighter. Brighter. Until no one could look directly at it. A tiny crack appeared. Then another. And another. The sleeping cherub inside opened its eyes. For the first time. The little angel yawned. As though awakening from a pleasant nap. Then spread tiny wings. The battlefield fell silent. The cherub floated free. Small. Adorable. No larger than a bird. then it grew into a size of a little infant The Ice Earl laughed. Until the angel looked at him. Then the laughter stopped. The tiny cherub lifted one hand. A sphere of silver light expanded instantly. A perfect dome. The falling mountain of ice struck it. And shattered. Millions of frozen fragments exploded across the sky. The Northmen stared.  The cherub gently clasped its hands together. As though praying. Then began singing. A beautiful song. Simple. Soft. Ancient. The melody drifted across the battlefield. Frozen warriors gasped. Wounds closed. Broken bones mended. Frostbite vanished. Blood returned to pale faces. Men moments from death stood again. The song healed everything it touched. Toivo felt warmth spread through his body. His injuries disappeared. His strength returned. The Northmen roared. Hope returned. For a moment. Only a moment. The cherub's light dimmed. Its wings fluttered weakly. Then it returned to the silver cage. The Angel's Egg closed. Silent once more. The Ice Earl's eyes narrowed. For the first time He looked concerned. Then angry. Very angry. The frost king raised both hands. The sky cracked. A true blizzard descended. Ice dragons formed from storm clouds. Frozen tornadoes ripped across the valley. Entire glaciers awakened. The mountains themselves joined the battle. The Northmen screamed war cries. Charged forward. And were thrown back. Again. And again. The Ice Earl was too powerful. Toivo pushed through the storm. Axe in hand. Step by step. But every advance was halted. Every attack blocked. Every effort shattered. The Ice Earl smiled. Cruel. Confident. Victorious. Then The Angel's Egg pulsed again. Once. Twice. Three times. The silver cage exploded open. A beam of moonlight erupted into the heavens. The clouds split apart. 

The sky opened. Stars appeared above daylight. And something descended. A figure. Radiant. Immense. Beautiful. Terrifying. An angel. Not a cherub. Not a child. A true celestial being. Its wings stretched across the entire valley. Thousands of feathers made from light. Eyes like silver suns. A spear forged from starlight. The Northmen fell to their knees. The giants fled. Even the Ice Earl staggered backward. The angel raised its spear. And struck. A single sweep. A single motion. A single divine attack. An entire army of frost giants vanished. Reduced to light. Reduced to memory. The valley shook. The Ice Earl roared. Charging forward. Winter against heaven. Frost against moonlight. King against angel. The clash shattered mountains. Glaciers exploded. Avalanches thundered down distant slopes. Neither side yielded. The angel's light illuminated the world. The Ice Earl's frost tried to consume it. For several moments The battle seemed equal. Then the angel turned. Its gaze settled upon Toivo. Silver eyes. Ancient wisdom.And a voice like a thousand bells.

"Toivo."

The Wolf of the North froze.

"Finish what was begun."

The angel thrust its spear.

A beam of light struck the Ice Earl directly.

His armor cracked. His crown shattered. The storm faltered. For the first time The Ice Earl was vulnerable. Toivo moved. Not as a boy. Not as a wanderer. Not as someone chasing Moon's shadow. He moved as a warrior. As a leader. As the Wolf of the North. The snow exploded beneath his feet. His axe blazed with runic light. The Wolfskin Cloak snapped behind him. The Ice Earl tried to raise a wall of ice. Too slow. Toivo leaped. Higher than any mortal should. The world slowed. One heartbeat. Two. Three. Then he swung. Everything he possessed. Every lesson. Every wound. Every loss. Every memory. Every dream. All of it. Into one strike. The axe cleaved through the Ice Earl's chest. Cleanly. Completely. The frost king froze. His eyes widened. The crown shattered. The ice armor crumbled. The storm died. And slowly The Ice Earl fell. The moment his body struck the ground. Winter broke. The blizzard vanished. The clouds parted. Sunlight returned. For the first time in days. Silence covered the mountains. Then came cheering. Thunderous cheering. The Northmen roared. Axes lifted high.Voices shaking the sky.

"WOLF OF THE NORTH!"

"WOLF OF THE NORTH!"

"WOLF OF THE NORTH!"

Toivo stood alone amid the melting snow. Chest rising. Heart pounding. Victorious. Yet his gaze drifted north. Far beyond the mountains. Far beyond the horizon. Toward someone who would never see this victory.  Moon.

A small smile touched his face.

"I did it."

The words vanished into the wind. Soft. Almost embarrassed. As though speaking to someone standing beside him. Someone who wasn't there. 

And high above the battlefield The Angel folded its wings. Returned to light. And disappeared back into the silver cage. Leaving only silence.  And a warrior who had finally become a legend.

That day the Northmen gained a hero. That day the giants lost their king. That day the Angel's Egg awakened. And that day Toivo ceased being merely a boy chasing the moon. He became the Wolf of the North.

Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 5, Chapter 35

 "True love waits, or so ive been told"

"In the future with you 

My heart beats there too"

Chapter 35  The Road Forward

The world did not end. For a long time Moon wished it had. The pain would have been easier. The silence would have been kinder. The darkness would have hurt less. Yet the world continued. As worlds always do. The sun still rose. The wind still moved through trees. Flowers still bloomed. Birds still sang. And somewhere beyond the walls of the Tower of Tears Life continued. Without asking permission from the brokenhearted. Moon survived. That fact alone changed history. Had he died upon the roses The White King would have become something far worse. The Blood Wraith would have wandered forever. The Dark King would have drowned completely in despair. Entire kingdoms might never have existed. Entire ages might never have begun. Instead Moon lived. And because he lived Everything changed. The Tower of Tears rose. The White King froze the North. The Shadow King gathered wolves. The Reaper King embraced death. The Dark King ruled corruption. And the world slowly marched toward a future none of them could yet see.

Moon spent many days asleep. Many weeks. Perhaps months. Time blurred. The wound in his chest healed. The wound in his heart did not. Some nights he stood upon the highest balcony. Looking toward distant forests. Toward distant horizons. Toward memories. Toward blue eyes hidden behind a black hood. Sometimes he remembered laughter. Sometimes he remembered dandelions. Sometimes he remembered a ruined church. Sometimes he remembered a promise. And sometimes When the night became too quiet He remembered the stake. He puts his hand in his chest to feel the pain. "my heart"  Then he would close his eyes. And wait for dawn. Because dawn always came. Even after the longest winter. Even after betrayal. Even after love. Especially after love. Far away Centuries later Another young man stared into the night.

Toivo stood atop a frozen cliff overlooking the northern wilderness. The stars stretched endlessly above him. Cold. Beautiful. Ancient. The same stars Moon once watched. The same stars that had witnessed every story. Every loss. Every reunion. Every promise. Snow drifted quietly around him.The Wolfskin Cloak rested across his shoulders. The northern wind tugged at golden hair. The mountains slept beneath moonlight. And in his hand He held the Angel's Egg. The silver pendant glowed softly. The tiny cherub slumbered peacefully inside. Waiting. Growing. Dreaming. Toivo stared at it. Then lifted his gaze toward the heavens. Toward the northern sky. Toward wherever Moon might be. The pain remained. Of course it did. Some wounds never healed. The White King had taught him that. The Dark King had taught him that. Life itself had taught him that. The ache in his chest never truly disappeared. Moon's absence still hurt. His smile still haunted him. His voice still lingered. His memory still made Toivo's heart race. But something had changed. The heartbreak no longer controlled him. The despair no longer owned him. The loss no longer defined him. Because now When Toivo thought of Moon He did not think about what had been taken. He thought about what still remained. Hope. The promise. The future. The road ahead. He was no longer the frightened boy who had cried beneath a sunrise. He was the Wolf of the North. A warrior. A leader. A man. And one day Their paths would cross again. Not by accident. Not by fate. By choice. By determination. By the strength he continued to build with every battle.

Toivo closed his fingers around the Angel's Egg. Silver light glimmered between them. The northern wind carried his words into the night. A promise. A prayer. A vow.

"Wait for me."

"In the future, with you my heart.."

"my heart beats there too"

The stars seemed brighter. The world seemed wider. The road stretched endlessly before him. And for the first time Toivo smiled. Not with sorrow. Not with longing.With certainty.

"Next time, I will stand beside you."

Above him the northern sky shimmered. And somewhere far beyond the horizon The moon shone quietly over the world.

End of Volume V — The Wolf of the North

Some wounds never heal.

They simply become part of who we are.

But

Time Heals all Sorrows