The room in the attic is small. It fits Pozza perfectly, and it doesn’t take long for them to get settled in. With the action and excitement of the day, she falls asleep quickly, despite the sun having only just risen.

They wake hours later, as the golden glow of sunset streams in through the window. She makes her way downstairs, and Fig whips up a small dinner/breakfast for the pair of them. The two discuss potential decorations; with most of Fig’s Pack living elsewhere, there’s a lot of space that can still be filled. The novelty coasters from Tricky and Shiny are a good start.

There’s an early start the next day. Pozza wants to learn how to bake, and Fig is happy to teach them. Plus, with the Villain’s defeat, a celebration is being planned in the Heartwood. Fig has been requested to provide some bakes, and they could use the help.

They start off with a simple sponge, with a tried and trusted method. As long as the ingredients are measured out correctly and mixed properly, there isn’t much that could go wrong.

And nothing goes wrong! The cake comes out well, brilliant for a first attempt. The two spend some time decorating it before the taste test. Then, they decide to try a more difficult recipe.

Following the festival, more people come to Fig’s bakery with orders and requests. It can be difficult to keep on top of it all at times, but the two of them manage. Tricky and Shiny even help out from time to time as well, gathering ingredients – both basic and unusual – from a variety of places. They keep true to their word about finding stuff good.

They travel all over the kingdom, meeting up with the other members of Fig’s Pack (although Pozza decides to stay in the Heartwood when Fig visits Pearl). All of them are also talented bakers, with their own unique styles. Which means they each have tips for how Pozza can improve her skills as well. It isn’t long before Pozza has her own unique dishes to take part in the pack get-togethers.

One evening, as the sun sets outside her window, Pozza thinks back to how all of this started. They take some paper and a pencil, wanting to put their thoughts into words.

Not long ago, I passed away
My story I now read
So listen close to hear me say
A tragic tale indeed
While growing up I would amass
A large amount of stone
Some round, some big, some clear like glass
But I'd call them all my own
But then when I awoke one dusk
My rocks weren't at my side
I felt so empty, like a husk
It's true I wept and cried
So I resolved I would set out
To set this problem right
Search high and low, and all about
And onward, day and night
My journey started fraught with fear
As I walked to the Sea
It seemed, as monsters drew so near
That death had come for me
While I left my wounds to rest
I joined a sailing crew
To the mountains on a quest
And I found a stone or two
In the Lizard's Fangs we went
To the mountain's core
I saw the chieftain's death, which meant
The gods had gone to war
I ran away as best I could
To the desert I know well
The day of life used to be good
But here the long night fell
I thought I'd try to fix it all
Be the hero we all need
Here I would meet my great downfall
All tangled in seaweed
So there I died and there I lay
Deep down on the seafloor
Death spoke to me, and It did say
That I could live once more.

– Written by Emma H.

Pozza steps up to do more chores around the house as the years go by, leaving Fig more time to focus on the baking. Even then, they need to take on fewer orders in order to keep up with them. Fig can’t work as quickly as they used to.

The two eat their meals together each day. They talk about nothing in particular, the easiest way to avoid discussing the inevitability of what’s to come. Talking about that would make it real. Neither of them know how to broach the subject.

The silence in the old bakery is too loud. Pozza doesn’t have a destination in mind, but she needs to get away from all of the nothingness. So they walk, ignoring the concerned looks and comforting words of those they pass by. And they keep walking until they stop.

The wind on the clifftop is chilly. The Forgotten Swamp stands behind her, and the Sea of Light stretches far before her, until it comes to a stop at the border of the Mist.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” They turn at the voice. The new arrival raises an eyebrow before he continues. “It’s Pozza, right? We met before, however many years ago.” He doesn’t need to give more details; she remembers her first meeting with Barrow. Somehow he doesn’t seem to have aged a day since then.

She turns back towards the sea, and she has to agree with him. The sight is almost beautiful enough to make her forget the horrors she went through. They stare out at the blue water for a long while.

When she turns back to Barrow once more, he has laid out a picnic basket, and is pouring two cups of tea from a flask. “Why has Fig not returned?” she asks. “How come I was allowed to come back, but Fig isn’t?”

Barrow places the cup he was holding upon the blanket, trying to balance it upon the lumpy ground. “No answer I could give to that question would be satisfying,” he says with a sigh. “I can only make guesses about Death’s intentions. Perhaps It simply decided that your previous death wasn’t your time to die.”

“But what am I meant to do without Fig? How can I move on?” Pozza can feel the tears coming. She doesn’t try to stop them.

Barrow gestures to the empty space on the blanket. “In a way, Fig is still with you. Your memories of them, the stories the two of you lived through together, those things will live on with you. Your life is yours to define. You don’t need to fully move on – I don’t think you can; that’s not how grief works – but you can’t stay in this state forever. Fig wouldn’t want that of you, would she?”

Pozza takes a seat. “But where do I begin? What do I do next?”

“You live, Pozza.” Barrow gives Pozza a determined look. “For yourself and for Fig. You honour them through your words and your actions, and you keep their legacy alive. But you need to live for yourself as well. Save some of your love for the living.”

And so, Pozza lives. They travel the land, going on new adventures and making new friends. She lives through new experiences and new stories. She shares tales of Fig and other old friends, those who are no longer with her.

They continue to bake. When they’re working on a recipe, they feel as though Fig is still there with them. She does what she can to teach others, in the same way that Fig once taught her.

In living, she keeps Fig’s legacy alive. And when the end comes for her as well, she is surrounded by friends.

Pozza finds herself in a familiar hall of pale stone. They see a figure they recognise and begin to approach.

The six-armed statue looms above them, holding its scales, scythe, and quill.

“You have returned.”

Its voice surrounds Pozza.

“You have lived well.”

Pozza cannot see Its face beneath Its hood. They are not even certain It has a face. And yet she feels like It is smiling.

“I am glad you used your second chance well.”

The space seems to shift around Pozza. No longer do they stand in the endless hallway. This new room seems more comforting.

“Come. Let me welcome you to my home. Your friends have been waiting.”