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Some women spent the whole time of their pregnancy on a chair, but Sorka would have died of boredom. She was a healthy girl, and apart from a few bouts of nausea during a month, she felt good the rest of the time and remained very active. Not as much as she was used to be though. As the weeks went by, she discovered she was getting tired more and more easily, and it took her some time to adapt to her new limits. Sage watched his love trying to keep up with what she was used to do and failed, and he wished she would just take it more easy. But if he could fight dark wizards, he wasn’t brave enough to tell her so. It was something she had to find out for herself. He remembered all too well her reaction when he had found her an apprentice: she had looked hurt and asked him if he thought she was unable to do her job anymore. Pulling her onto his lap, he had explained that they would be doing the boy, one of their neighbors and probably the whole island, a favor, not the other way around. Most of the time, Sorka was just the same as ever, however, on rare occasions, her mood was unpredictable. But in the end, reason always prevailed.

"How can you bear with me when I’m being silly, hon?" Sorka asked Sage one day, exasperated with herself, as his hands were working their magic on her back. She sat cross-legged on the couch. He hit a sensitive spot and was rewarded by a sound like a soft pur. "Hmm… yes, right here."

Sage grinned, because he knew she hated being emotional and regretted losing her temper when she had no good reason to. "It’s our baby, and you’re doing all the hard work," he said, wrapping a hand around her and resting it on her stomach. "And actually, I think it’s kind of cute…" he whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her skin and making her shiver.

"Cute?" Sorka repeated. Seeing her look at him above her shoulder, her eyebrows raised in a silent question, he cleared his throat and quickly added, "Yes, you are only silly when it’s just the two of us."

"And that’s… cute?" She was even more puzzled now. And feeling slightly guilty.

"Relax." Sage playfully slapped her shoulder. "It tells me how much you do trust and love me," he explained, resuming what he had been doing.

It left her speechless for a couple of minutes. Then she shook her head – oh, he would believe that! But he had a point, she had to admit it. She could only hope that she was showing him all her love and trust in more enjoyable ways also. Sighing, she surrendered to his hands again. It was just too hard to focus on anything else for long when they were wandering on her. Sage loved making her feel that way and could tell that she was thoroughly enjoying this massage.

Sorka’s apprentice was Arzyl’s distant cousin, a sixteen year old boy named Pierin. He was eager to learn the fine art of potion making, too eager maybe, because he proved himself rather clumsy during the first tenday.

"I don’t get it," Sorka told her husband. "He’s sharp, but everytime I talk to him or look at him he knocks something over! I’ve never scared any of my students before." She was slightly distraught by the situation.

Sage started laughing and clipped, "You say I don't notice things! He’s not scared, love. I think Arzyl forgot to tell him he would be taught by a young and attractive witch," Sage replied wryly. Then, as if he suddenly had afterthoughts, he added, "Should I be jealous?"

"Yeah, sure," she rolled her eyes. But she blushed slightly, pleased that he thought she was still attractive. So pleased that she didn’t feel like telling him that Pierin would never see her the way he did. He knew it, after all. As well as she knew that she wasn’t the kind of women men gawked at. She was not beautiful in a classical way, but she was in his eyes, and nothing else mattered.

"You’re a goddess, sweetie." He kissed her on the tip of her nose, and she patted her slightly swollen abdomen. "The Mother Goddess, you mean," she laughed.

Pierin was a smart boy and did get over his slight crush quickly. It probably helped to knock her off her pedestal that a couple of potions sent Sorka running out of the room – and that he started to hero-worship Sage. That new ‘phase’ began after he saw him go through a particularly difficult practice.

Sage and Sorka had bewitched the workshop as they had the one in Quill Alley. That day, Sage had conjured walls and columns, some in ruins, and Sorka had conjured ten dummies, that she equiped each with two specific – and nasty – spells. Then she placed and animated them, so he wouldn’t know what to expect. And Sage almost made it unscathed. But the last dummy hit him in the left leg, turning it into a dead weight. He fell hard and had barely the time to roll on himself to avoid the second hex.

"Finite incantatem! Are you ok?" Sorka inquired, a tinge of concern in her voice. She was already off the workbench she had been sitting on and walking towards him.

"Yeah. But you would have thought it was really alive," Sage huffed. He pointed his wand at his leg, saying the counter-spell, and jumped to his feet. "How was that?" he asked, but his grin wasn’t as cocky as it once was. Their eyes met, and he knew she too was thinking of that day, months ago, in another life…


Sorka linked her arms around his neck and leaned up for a deep kiss.

"What was that for?" Sage asked a minute later, after clearing his throat.

"You asked me a question, that was my answer," she grinned. "Now I could have said I was impressed…"

"The kiss was much better."

"More explicit?"

"Definitely." His arms tightened around her and he wiggled his eyebrows. "I would never have guessed this kind of demonstration could get you all…"

"Not all," she corrected him. When he chuckled she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear, "But you probably know of a few things that could get me closer and closer to… all."



"You were amazing!" Pierin blurted from the doorway. "I’ve never seen anyone fight like that!"

Startled, Sorka and Sage turned around toward the voice. They had had no idea that he was there. But they both recovered quickly and exchanged a quick glance – neither liked the way the impressionable boy was looking at the older man. "Well," Sorka drawled, addressing her husband. "You could probably have done better in the end. It’s the first time that I ever saw a dummy hit you."

Pierin frowned and said indignantly, "But when the two dummies cast spells at the same time… Sage’s save was just brilliant!"

Sage caught her eyes again and she could clearly read his expression: nice try. She almost heard the sigh he didn’t heave.

"It was," Sorka acquiesced. Pierin was just a kid who had never met the likes of them – it wasn’t going to be easy to make him see Sage again as the mere mortal he was.

But the boy didn’t listen to her. He must have realized that he had just interrupted them, because he blushed, stammered something unintelligible and ran out. "If he just had some more self-confidence… Because he was right, you know," Sorka observed.

"The last dummy did hit me," Sage shook his head, feigning to be chagrined. "I thought you would try to cheer me up, and all you’re thinking about is the kid’s self-confidence." He put a hand to his heart and sighed theatrically.

"I said he was right, you dolt," she punched him playfully in the shoulder. "You were truly impressive, love." She slightly tilted her head backward to look at him. "Happy now?" When he nodded, grinning, she sighed in frustration. "At least you had some fun. Try sitting here!"

Sage kissed her pouting lips and held her lovingly. She had had to stop duelling with him, of course. And even if it was for a good reason, and they were safe in Atlantis, after all those years, her instincts told her it wasn’t right, especially now that they were going to be parents.

Since his instincts agreed with hers, he devised a few exercises for her during the following week, so she could practice to a certain extent.

"Our baby will know how to duel and throw knives before he can walk," Sage joked.

"He?" Sorka repeated, raising an eyebrow. But how she loved to hear him say ‘our baby’! Hermione had told her on her wedding day that if it had taken Sage almost ten years to marry her, how many more would she have to wait before he was ready to be a father? But he had proven her wrong once again. Hermione always had the good answers, except when it came to Sage. And it amused Sorka no end.

Sage shrugged his shoulders. "Just a hunch, love… But I wouldn’t mind if our baby is a girl, as long as she is as beautiful as her mother," he added, pulling her close.

"Another nice save, Solon," Sorka laughed lightly, before kissing him. "You’re so lucky I’m too big to jump you here and now," she whispered against his mouth a minute later.

Sage thought that she wasn’t that big… But she was six-months pregnant and it was obvious now. Some women who had never talked to either of them came to tell her about their own experiences – one of them had even stopped her in the street! And he wondered how women still wanted to have babies after hearing those, because according to what they all said, it was a nightmare. But Sorka patiently listened to them. And when he had wondered aloud how she could, she had responded that she felt sorry for them, because her own pregnancy was going so smoothly. Then she had made him promise to hex her if he ever heard her try to scare a poor girl shitless, and he had, laughing.

Sorka looked at him and nodded her head, "I have a hunch it’s a boy too." Then she had that smile he associated with their child, and she took his hand and put it on her abdomen. "What you think? It’s a ‘yes’?" The baby was kicking.

"Can’t be a ‘no’," Sage replied. His big hand lighly travelled down her curvy stomach, then up again. It was another of the things Sorka disliked: when strangers touched her belly. He knew how she valued her space, and it made her feel like that part of her was ‘property of the community’ just because she was expecting a baby. Fortunately, he had found that they didn’t do it when he was close, so she joked, saying he was her ‘belly guard’.

It was the first time they admited to each other that they believed the baby was going to be a boy. Even the mediwitch had told them to think about girl names.

"Can you ‘hear’ him?" Sage inquired one month later, as they were having lunch.

She nodded her head, slowly. "Yes, I’ve been able to for weeks now, and his emotions and feelings are getting clearer and clearer." Then her face brightened. "Why didn’t I think about it earlier? You can too, through me! He’s awake and feeling very good… focus on my ring!" She took his hand – she didn’t need to, of course, but it felt right that way – and watched his face as his free hand came to rest on her prominant stomach.

Jasen Solon was born thirteen months after his parents settled in Atlantis. Sage stayed with Sorka all along, holding her hand, wiping her forehead with a damp cloth, and above all trying to share some of his strength with her through his presence. Harry and Ron had sent him a letter to advise him to keep all wands out of Sorka’s reach and to ignore whatever she would yell at him as she was bringing their baby into the world – being in labor did that even to the sweetest woman, and if their wives were sweet, each had her own… uh… character. So she wouldn’t really mean it, at least not after she was through. But Sorka didn’t get mad at him or curse him or threaten him in any way. Even when she was clearly exhausted and the pain made her cry out and left her gasping for breath, she kept on gritting her teeth, a look of determination on her face. Sage had never been more proud of her – and he had never felt so utterly powerless.

"Our baby boy," Sorka whispered, smiling at Sage and clinging to his hand, when the baby could be heard for the first time. She was crying, and there were tears in his eyes also, but he didn’t miss the mediwitch’s sharp look as he was bending down to kiss his wife.

"Yes, you have a fine boy," she huffed.

When everyone and everything was clean, the mediwitch gave the baby to Sage, who took him to Sorka. Even though she looked worn out, she smiled happily when she saw him come in with Jasen cradled in his arms. That would be an image she would never forget. He was so tall, and the baby so small. She was feeling so much love at that very moment that she wondered how her heart didn’t burst.

Sage handed her their son and sat on the chair beside the bed. "I’ve never been so scared in all my life," he admitted in an awed voice, stroking her hair with one hand and lightly brushing one of their son’s tiny fists with the forefinger of the other. Jasen was so perfect. And they had created that miracle together.

"Same here," Sorka answered in the same tone and leaned up and to the side to kiss her husband on the cheek. Somehow she believed that she could never have done it without Sage at her side. She had been so not in control that she would have been terrified to go through this alone. "But you were there… And look at him! Wasn’t it the most amazing experience too?"

He nodded. Then he told her, looking at her tired face, "You should rest, love."

"In a minute."

The minute turned into twenty, then Sage watched over his wife and son while they slept. The shadows like bruises under Sorka’s eyes were already fading, and a little smile still lingered at the corners of her mouth. As for Jasen, he was sleeping soundly, exhausted after his first big adventure.

Sorka turned on her side, her hand searching beside her, and woke up with a start.
Then she saw Sage on an chair and her face softened.

"You ok?" he asked her, concerned, leaning forward.

"Yeah, thanks to the potion the mediwitch gave me I don’t feel so much like I’ve been trampled by a hipogryff." She yawned and raised on one elbow. "Why aren’t you in bed?"

"I didn’t want to disturb your sleep."

"You are," she mock scowled at him. "Or do I have to remind you that you promised me I would never have to spend another night alone?"

Smiling, Sage stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jar her, and slid in beside his love. Sorka snuggled to him with a content sigh.

"Oh, I know I was supposed to, but I was kind of busy and I forgot to tell you," she started, trying to suppress the laughter that threatened to bubble in her voice.

"What?" he whispered, holding her lovingly.

"You will never ever make love to me again," she replied in the most serious tone she could manage. Then she couldn’t hold it back anymore and had to stifle her laughter into his chest.



Sorka could see that Pierin was dying to ask her a question, but each time he opened his mouth, he seemed to think better of it and finally kept quiet. It had been lasting for two weeks or so, and it was frustrating, even if she thought she knew what it was about. As they were brewing potions, she took out one wand, than the other, and absentmindedly started playing with them.

"You can use two wands too?"

The question brought her back to reality. The boy’s eyes had widen. "Yes, Sage has always had the odd habit of fighting with two wands, and I asked him to teach me," Sorka smiled at the recollections, knowing it was true in both timelines. Then she immediately realized that she had said the right thing.

It was all the encouragement Pierin needed. "So he taught you how to duel?" he inquired eagerly.

She had known for a long time that that moment would come – since the day Pierin had witnessed Sage’s practice. "Well, before I met him, I could duel, but not like I can do it now, obviously. Sage did teach me most of the things I know. And we’ve been improving together for years now." She grimaced inwardly when she saw the teen’s dejected expression. "I’m sure you didn’t expect this to be easy, Pierin."

"No, no, of course not." He thought during a moment, adding an ingredient. Then he asked. "Can you do that too?"

"Do what?"

"What I saw him doing that day." Pierin blushed. "I saw you animate the dummies and I was intrigued." When Sorka looked sharply at him, he added quickly, in a tone of excuse. "Yeah, I was there. But I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything! I forgot the potion I had made for my mother and the door of the shop was still open…"

Sorka held up a hand and chuckled. "I guess we should have closed it."

"I didn’t tell anyone about what I saw that day, I swear!"

"Not even to your friends, the two young men I’ve seen with you a few times?" she teased him.

"No, not even to them." Pierin’s tone was very serious. He was a good boy… man, really, because he was now seventeen and of age. "You didn’t answer my question," he suddenly added. "Can you do what Sage was doing that day?"

"Yes, I can."

His face brightened. "Then you can teach me!"

That was an unexpected turn to say the least. "Sage is far more experienced than I am. You should ask him…"

Pierin shook his head. "I can’t do that! He’s just too good, he wouldn’t…"

"Well, thank you very much," Sorka said tartly. And when she saw him flush and start stammering an excuse, she interrupted, "Sage is good, that’s why he’s the best choice." Then she added, winking at him, "Of course, that last dummy wouldn’t have hit me."

Sorka saw Pierin frown, then Sage’s voice said, "You don’t know that, love."

"Yes, I do," she stated. "Because if I had not known where the fifth dummy was, it might have done the trick for me," she admitted, sighing.

Sage had done something like that during their last dueling practice before she discovered she was pregnant and had had to ‘rennervate’ her.

Her husband nodded. "I know, and knowing it, I was expecting one of them to act like it did."

"Ah, am I so predictable?" Sorka asked.

"No, I’d say that I know how your mind works, even if paradoxically you surprise me all the time."

They became aware that Pierin wasn’t missing a word of their conversation. Right on cue, Jasen started to cry. "I’ll take care of this," Sage said, and the next moment he was gone.

When Sorka could finally join him upstairs, Sage had a wriggling six month old Jasen in his arms. The baby looked fed and happy. Sage wasn’t afraid of bottles, diapers or even of getting up in the middle of the night to rock his son. He wanted to be a true father to Jasen. And Sorka had never doubted that he would be – and a good father too. She knew of course that his own father had waited till Sage was old enough to help him make his experiments to show any interest in him, then had quickly given up on him when he had proven that he wouldn’t follow in his footsteps and dabble in the dark arts. But she knew also that Sage didn’t have to fear to ever become that kind of father to their son. She had seen him with Spartan, and he was just amazing with kids – and even more with his own.

Smiling, Sorka watched the two loves of her life from the doorway. They sat on a couch, Sage with his back to her. He was showing Jasen a toy that he had crafted and bewitched. "What ya think?" he asked the baby, who gave out a short laughter for an answer. Then Jasen saw his mother and called her. He used two different sounds, one for each of them. Sage turned his head towards her, and when their eyes met, Sorka felt her heart beat faster and made her way towards her husband and her son.

"Are you two having fun without me?" she inquired, leaning down to brush Jasen’s soft light brown hair with her lips. He tried to catch a fistful of hers, and she held it out of his reach with one hand, the other lingering on his small shoulders for a few seconds, just above Sage’s.

"Nah, we would never do that," Sage assured her, freeing an arm to wrap it around her as she was sitting beside him. He gave her a light kiss, and Sorka leaned her head against his shoulder. They watched Jasen trying to put his whole fist into his mouth during a minute, then Sage cleared his throat. "I would have thought Pierin would have gotten over it by now."

"Are you tired of being the hero, love?" Sorka gasped, her eyes wide and innocent, feigning to be shocked.

Sage poked her playfully in the ribs, and she cracked up. "Those Atlantean kids should really spend at least a year in the real world," he muttered, reminding himself that he had to be thankful that the kid had only seen him practicing. It would have been truly embarassing if he and Sorka had been making love that day. Needless to say that they had been very careful since then.

"I think I found a way to help him grow out of this bad habit of his," Sorka declared. "Pierin asked me if I could teach him how to duel. I replied that I wasn’t the duelling teacher, you were."

Sage shook his head. "I won’t teach that kid how to fight and get himself killed," he stated flatly, gritting his teeth.

Sorka sighed and took his face in her hands, "Of course not! You’re going to teach him how to protect himself and the ones he love. How to stay alive in the world outside, far from his sheltered life, because I have the feeling that he will want to see it now that he met us." When he cocked his head to look at her, Sorka’s gaze caught his and she poked him back. "If someone can teach him the difference, you’re the one, hon."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, sweetie," he smiled in spite of himself.

"Well, you’re most welcome."

"One of my students became a murderer," Sage reminded her, sobering.

"You taught Damien Greene during two months, and you weren’t the one who turned him into a bad guy – his own father did and paid the price." She stopped, thoughtful. "Hm… Well, no, he didn’t, not in this timeline." Frowning slightly, she added, "Anyway, Pierin is not Damien. He won’t turn into a bully just because he can. And your lessons could save his life, one day."

"Like it saved Spartan’s? He was my friend and he ended up dead because he thought I had taught him how to protect himself."

Sorka closed her eyes a second, then she pulled back and said, "Spartan was a target before he met you. He would probably have died earlier, if you had not been there for him. He would never have learned to trust another wizard. He would never have made friends and loved." She cupped his right cheek with her left hand. "Spartan was a good boy, and he was brave. And above all, he knew the risks, that night. One thing he wasn’t was a pampered teen."

"He saved my life," Sage whispered.

"So you could save mine and we could be here, tonight?" Her eyes bore into his.
They remained silent during a moment, then Sage sighed, "You had to put it that way, eh?"

"There is no other," she shrugged. "If Spartan had not chosen to follow you that night, if you had not chosen to help me save Harry, neither of us would be here."

"And Jasen wouldn’t be here either," he nodded. "All right, I see your point."

Sorka's face brightened a bit and remarked, "You know, Spartan could very well still be alive in this time line."

There was another silence during which only Jasen sucking on his hand could be heard – he was slowly falling asleep in his father’s arm, his parents voices like a soft lullaby to his infant’s ears. Then Sage took a deep breath. "You're right... I know you are. But maybe he'll be better off without my help this time around. As for Pierin, his father is an Auror…"

"We both know that the worst an Atlantean Auror has to deal with every now and then is those dark art objects that some people inadvertantly bring on the island. And most are just jinxed items like those they deal with in the British Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."

They had spent hours reading books about their adopted homeland at The Atlantean Magical Library. The Dark Arts had been banned from Atlantis long ago. The island ‘disappeared’ after a war during which a Voldemort-like wizard tried to take over the Ministry. Since then, any Atlantean witch or wizard who was caught performing dark magic was arrested and emprisoned in a place that by comparison made Azkaban look like a seaside resort. There, instead of being driven to despair, the prisoners could feel their powers being slowly drained. When an Atlantean couldn’t resist the call of the Dark Arts, he or she generally left before they were caught.

There was a drawback to outlawing the Dark Arts though: the Atlanteans would never be able to deal with a powerful dark wizard anymore. It was a good thing so many wards protected the island, among which one particular spell that prevented any of them to reach it.

It didn’t mean all the Atlanteans were good. They were like any people, or there wouldn’t have been so many seemingly absurd laws. For example, Sorka had been warned against brewing love potions. It was a crime to make one, and even more so to use it, especially to seduce a married person. As a matter of fact, any magic that deprived a person of their own free will was outlawed.

Sage put the baby to bed while Sorka started to make dinner. "I hope you’re right and dueling practices will help Pierin grow more self-confident," he said, entering the kitchen.

"You know I am." Sorka turned toward him and linked her arms around his neck. She knew that after Spartan’s death, it had been hard for him to live in a school, be surrounded by teens and keep on teaching. It wasn’t as if he had failed to prepare a student for an exam – no, if he had, he would have learned from his mistake and tried to do better the next time. But there would be no second chance for Spartan. If not for her, Sage would probably have resigned and left Hogwarts. He had stayed to help and protect her, but after the time change, he had been rather relieved not to be a teacher anymore. However, he was good. She had never met anyone who understood how dueling worked the way he did, and he had it in him to know just how to explain it to other people. "But if you really don’t want to, I’ll talk to him…"

Sage wrapped her in his arms. "I do. You’re right, the kid is smart and just needs a little help to become the man we can both see under the surface. If he had been born in our world, he would have grown up more quickly. But he was born here, on this… uhm…" he cleared his throat, "'esthetes’ island."

It was true the Atlanteans liked everything to look clean and brand new. Thousand year old buildings seemed to have been built the day before. In any wizarding enclaves Sorka and Sage had visited, the houses and shops looked magical because without any magic, they would never stay upright. Here, magic was used to preserve beauty. There was no missing chips in the stones and the murals weren’t fading or peeling.

Sorka laughed, her fingertips brushing up and down his spine, "They do like everything to be perfect and in good order," she acquiesced, rolling her eyes. At first, she had thought so much perfection beautiful, but now she found it a bit disturbing.

All the more so that the people were like their buildings. They had just let their spontaneity and their creativity go dormant. Of course, it was one of the reasons why Sorka and Sage were so successful in their trade, but at times they felt like they were suffocating and they needed to take a deep breath.

They needed to reassure themselves that they were still the same and Atlantis wasn’t slowly lulling them to sleep.

"Sometimes I have to give in to the urge and do something no Atlantean would ever think of doing." On those words, Sage kissed her. It was a lover's kiss, full of hunger and passion... and promises. What her hands had been doing was giving him some ideas of his own.

"They don’t kiss?" she inquired playfully, trying to catch her breath.

"Who said I just want to kiss?" he answered with the look in his eyes that made her legs go weak.

"Our dinner is going to burn."

"Let it burn."

His lips saught hers again and he pushed her gently against the counter and lifted her up to sit her on it. Sorka wrapped her legs around him and held him close. He framed her face with his hands, and she licked her lips under the intensity of his gaze, making them glisten irresistibly. He leaned into them again, his hands founding their way under her shirt. "Let’s just have dessert," he whispered against her mouth, and she nodded. Then he pulled back slightly and, his face breaking into a grin, he conjured a honey dispenser and cream.

Sorka’s eyes grew slightly wider as she was feigning shock. "No Atlanteans would…"

"That’s right," he answered with a roguish smile.

They took off each other’s clothes among kisses and caresses, then Sage gave his soulmate a little push onto the counter and she lay down under his burning eyes that swept her body, making her melt. He wanted to memorize again every curves. They were slightly softer now than they had been when she was seventeen, and he loved how the girl had transformed into a woman. He raised his eyebrows and grinning let a drop of honey fall from the dispenser.



After two dueling practices with Sage, Pierin had stopped stammering and blushing but respected the older man even more.

"Do you have dueling classes at school here?" Sage asked the Atlantean.

Pierin shook his head. "No, we learn only the theory."

Sage grimaced. "I’d like to see you against one of your friends…" He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth, but it was too late.

"Oh, I’m sure one of them would love to be your student too!"

When Sage told Sorka about it, she couldn’t help but laugh. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Nah, with you, love," she snorted. "You’re going to find yourself teaching half of the teens on the island, you know that?"

Sage made a face, but he had to admit she was probably right.

The next time Pierin knocked at their door, he was with four of his friends, two boys and two girls.

"Well," Sage commented, seeing the boy blush. Sorka was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. Her husband slid an arm around her waist and looked at her. "Looks like we have a few more students."

"We?"

Sage nodded, very aware that she had been dying to take a part in this.



Authors' Note: Some more pieces have clicked into place. l must admit I wasn't comfortable with all the clichés associated with pregnancy, but we couldn't just ignore them, so we decided to have some fun with them. We hope you enjoyed that part and meeting a new character, Pierin. What do you think of our Atlantis, so far? 

And check out our Halloween story, "Wishing Upon A Halloween Night", if you "ship" Sage/Sorka. :D

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