Max stopped at what appeared to be a big statue. It was all worn out by the rain, wind and other nature phenomena, and shroudded in moss.

“Who’s this?”

“It is quite hard to recognize precisely, but I believe it must be one of the Graces. The people’s sculptors used to make lots and lots of statues, mostly for the Graces embarassment. They didn’t like to be viewed as deities. Still, they appreciated those, and scattered them around the Castle to praise their people’s terrific craftmanship.”

“hoho, i could’ve make something way more cool!”

“Please, show some respect, Meryl.”

Max looked at the statue once more. Rather than frightening, it was almost a sad vision. He wondered how happy people must have been, when the Graces were alive. Even if he couldn’t see its face entirely, he was almost certain he could see… a smile.

A serene, gentle smile.

The smile of someone who, despite everything, still kept it together. Someone who could absorve the pain and transform it in beauty.

And he felt warm.

There, at the verge of Destiny. There, where Dark and Tragedy had prevailed.

There, a sad statue made Max feel warm.

He gently placed a hand on what he guessed was the Grace’s hand, and whispered a little pray.

“Please, help me find a way…”

A distant thunder made itself heard.

And they walked away.

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