#hollyoak

Featuring: held prisoner, prison cell, elf whumpee, fantasy whump, magic whump

Taglist: @whumperofworlds @melpomenelamusa

Prompt used: “You can feel it, can’t you?”

Part Four | Masterlist | Part Six

Hollyoak, Part Five

If nothing else, the Summer Elves' prison was at least on solid ground. Well, not on it so much as under it. Only a narrow ribbon at the top of the cell looked out on the grassy forest- barred from Kelyn's reach by the sturdy roots of the oak tree that formed the prison. The rest of the cell had been scooped out from the hard earth underneath. Some enchantment had been laid on it- Kelyn had tried digging a hole in the wall, just to see what would happen, and it had instantly sealed itself back up again. There was no way to tunnel out.

The cell was quite bare. Aside from the trapdoor that led into it, there was only earthen walls and the tree-root bars running round the top of the cell- no furnishings of any kind to make the cramped space less difficult to bear. Kelyn had had trouble with his antlers- the cell had obviously been designed for a Summer Elf, who all had small, stubby horns. Kelyn had nearly a full rack of antlers to contend with. If he tried to turn around too fast, they scraped irritatingly against the packed-earth wall. And there was not enough space for him to lie down- he had had to sleep sitting up with his head on his knees. His back ached from that.

His heart hurt from the accusation. And, surprisingly, for Adaire. He'd spent some time last night imagining how angry and frightened and sad he would be if King Cyprian fell senseless at a feast. Adaire was feeling those same emotions, except in his case it was not an imagination.

Kelyn had heard someone outside his cell say that King Aritz was not expected to live; the magic had infected him, slowly creeping towards his heart. "You can feel it, can't you?" he'd heard them murmur to their companion. "Summer is dying almost as soon as it began to live."

It made no sense. Summer Elves could not wield death magic just as Winter Elves could not touch life magic. If it truly was death magic that had struck King Aritz, a Winter Elf would have had to have cast it. But Kelyn was the only one in the Summer Realm, and he had no idea how to perform death magic, much less the desire to kill Adaire's father!

Is Adaire in danger, too? Kelyn wasn't sure why he cared, exactly. Adaire had had him arrested. The Oak Prince clearly hated him- but Kelyn couldn't find any hatred for him in return.

He was feeling something, though. It had taken him a long time to notice it. But he had noticed it at last, and it was beginning to worry him.

In his room in the Summer Realm, and Adaire's in the Winter Realm, enchantments had been carefully woven in. Adaire's room was much warmer than the rest of the Winter Realm, to make sure the Oak Prince was comfortable during his six months there. Likewise, Kelyn's room in the Summer Realm was kept much cooler than the rest of it. It was always a relief to come back to the slight chill after spending some time in the heat of the Summer Realm. The magic at Kelyn's core would keep him from overheating, but it wouldn't necessarily keep him comfortable, so the enchantment helped greatly.

No such enchantment had been set on this cell. It was underground, so at first it hadn't felt too bad. But as time wore on, the heat was beginning to increase. Kelyn could feel it. The magic deep inside him struggled to keep up. His dark hair was damp with sweat.

He had tried calling out, but there seemed to be no one around. If they could hear him, they were ignoring him. It had been nearly a full day already, and still no one had come. The trapdoor had remained securely shut and bolted. He hadn't so much as heard footsteps on the floor above his head.

Does that mean King Aritz has died? Kelyn wondered. If the Summer Elves were busy with funeral preparations, it stood to reason that he would be forgotten about- or deliberately ignored. But if the king had died, it would inevitably mean war.

King Cyprian was old. The Winter Realm was a hard one to live in even for the Winter Elves. And with the Summer Elves spurred to anger by the death of their king and the leadership of hotheaded Prince Adaire...there would be no formal declaration. They would simply swarm over the border and attack.

If it came to war, the Winter Elves would be defeated. There was no way around it. Unless they were warned, and could retreat into the safety of their high mountains, the Summer Elves would take the victory.

And, likely, my father's life. His own was forfeit already; Kelyn had no doubts of that. But the thought of King Cyprian's death hurt to even imagine.

Gonna

Pass

Featuring: false accusation, magic whump, fantasy whump, arrest, elf whumpee

Taglist: @whumperofworlds @melpomenelamusa

Prompt used: captive

Part Three | Masterlist | Part Five

Hollyoak, Part Four

Gentle lute and harp music filled the central treeroom. Plates of colorful, carefully crafted food waited on shelves conjured out of the trunk itself. Wine made from every kind of fruit and flower flowed freely, and the Summer Elves wore their best. Adaire was the center of attention, surrounded by a ring of his people, laughing and talking and waving his hands so wildly that several times he came perilously close to knocking over a pitcher or bowl. King Aritz sat close to his son, the Crown of Two Realms gleaming gold on his brow, just beneath his horns.

At the other end of the tree was Kelyn. He could not help but notice that none of the Summer Elves had been seated by him. He sat alone, isolated.

Fitting.

He hadn't felt much like eating, merely picking at the feast that had been laid out. It always took him several days to adjust from the Winter Realm's food of nuts and bread and warming stews to the Summer Realm's fare of fruits and green things and cool dishes. But this year he just felt too uncomfortable to eat. It felt as though all the Summer Elves were watching him, whispering about him. Kelyn hated feeling so paranoid.

If he were in the Winter Realm, he'd track down Duff and go for a long ride along the nearest winding cliff trail, ending at the overlook by his favorite frozen waterfall. He could picture the route and the ride so clearly it almost hurt.

But there was no icy cliff road here. No reindeer either. If Kelyn wanted to go riding, his options were the bears that terrified him or the deer that were terrified of him. And he wasn't sure the Summer Elves would let him do it, anyway.

Neither he nor Adaire had ever had a reason to try and escape the rival realms they inhabited every half-year. Kelyn had always been treated decently by the Summer Elves, and he'd never seen any of his people be unkind to Adaire. Even when they were both younger, they'd known the importance of what they were doing. This trading of sons between kingdoms was a show of trust, the two enemies sacrificing what they loved most so that peace could flourish instead of war.

King Aritz rang a little copper bell that hung from a vine near his place, and the conversation fell silent. Everyone stopped eating; Kelyn did the same.

"As you all surely know," King Adaire proclaimed, "the purpose of this feast is to celebrate the return of our beloved son Prince Adaire." How does he do that with his voice? Kelyn wondered. King Aritz had the sort of booming voice that echoed around the trunk of the tree, sounding both majestic and a little frightening.

Adaire was beaming across the room- a real, genuine smile this time, not the playful smirk Kelyn was used to. He's as happy to be home as I am sad to leave mine.

King Aritz turned his head aside to cough briefly into his sleeve. "At long last, the magic has been returned to us. Death and darkness cannot stand long before the light and life, and so we must protect what we have reclaimed. We must...we...excuse me. My apologies." The king turned, coughing deeply. He braced his hand against the nearest column, dragging what looked like a shaky breath into his lungs. Kelyn frowned. Is he ill?

King Aritz shook his head, clearing his throat. He looked back up at his people, smiling half to himself as if to say What a silly interruption. Now where was I?

Then he pitched forward, like a tree cut down, and lay still on the floor of the hall.

Stunned silence was king for a moment. Then there were screams of shock and horror. Adaire vaulted over the table, sending dishes flying in his wake, and fell to his knees beside his father. His hands glowed with power, green melting into gold at the edges, and he whispered words Kelyn could not hear. Magic words. Life magic. The special skill of the Summer Elves. Kelyn had never seen it practiced before.

A mage took Adaire's place, but the Oak Prince stayed by King Aritz' side. The rest of the hall was motionless, silent, watching in disbelief.

"He is alive," the mage said at last. Their face was grim. "But I do not know for how much longer. This is no sickness; this is death magic."

"Who did this?" Adaire snarled.

The mage hesitated. "Death magic is impossible for Summer Elves."

The implication hung heavy in the hall.

There was only one Winter Elf in the Summer Realm.

Kelyn.

Adaire found his gaze and held it. His green eyes were daggers, sharp and pointed. He looked nothing like the boastful, jovial prince Kelyn knew.

He looked like his father.

"Arrest him," Adaire ordered.

What could Kelyn have done? He was alone in a realm not his own, surrounded by elves who very suddenly seemed to have become his enemy.

"I didn't do this," he said, his voice coming out much weaker than he had wanted it to.

"Silence!" Adaire shouted, and then quieter, "Just- just don't. I don't- I can't." He bent next to the mage, adding his own magic to theirs. The green glow almost hurt to look at now, although none of the Summer Elves seemed affected.

Death magic. It was, technically, the reach of the Winter Elves. The Summer Elves could wield heat, make things grow, heal, and use life magic in moments of crisis. Winter Elves wielded cold, called down storms...and used death magic. No one had used it- or had been supposed to use it- since the war.

Kelyn didn't even know how. He'd never seen death magic put into practice even by the elders who knew the secrets of it. And yet someone had used it. Someone- and Kelyn had been blamed.

How is this happening to me?

To their credit, the Summer Elves serving as guards seemed to hesitate. "Well?" Adaire barked, his voice drawn sharp by fear and anger.

Kelyn stood, gripping his staff tightly. "I'll go with you," he said, and watched as the guards visibly relaxed. As if he was some sort of danger. Kelyn raised his voice. "But I want everyone here to know that I did not do this." He fixed his gaze on Adaire's furious eyes. "I did not do this, Adaire."

Adaire angrily gestured for the guards to take him away.

One of them reached for Kelyn's hands. The other guard- and now he recognized them, they were the elf he had sat behind on the bear- seized her wrist and shook their head. "We don't need that," they said firmly, and offered Kelyn an apologetic glance.

Kelyn inclined his head to them, relieved. With his hands bound, he wouldn't have been able to use his staff. An ungraceful fall to the floor of the Summer Court's banquet hall was the very last thing he needed tonight.

The hall, for its part, was still very quiet, the Sunmer Elves dumbstruck by the sudden fall of their king. Adaire had turned away, bent over King Aritz again.

The guard on the right grasped his arm; the guard who had been on the bear took his left, and didn't take hold of him. Kelyn appreciated that, since he needed that hand free to use his staff. Its tip clunked in an ominous, echoing fashion on the wooden floor of the hall.

Featuring: elf whumpee, royal whump, homesickness, emotional whump

Taglist: @whumperofworlds @melpomenelamusa

Prompt used: “This is hopeless.”

Part One

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Twelve Days of Whumpmas Day Two: Hollyoak, Part Two

When King Cyprian let go, it was reluctant. He pressed his lips to the top of Kelyn's dark hair before he finally let his son pull away.

"It's only six months, Father," Kelyn said quietly. He had to swallow hard before he spoke.

The Holly King only shook his head, reaching out to tuck Kelyn's cloak further around him and adjust the silver circlet he wore on his brow. "Be well, my son," he said, and then more softly, "I love you."

Kelyn had done this cycle five times before, it was hardly new, for him or for his father. They should have been used to it by now.

But he always rode away to the Summer Realm with tears blinding his eyes.

Now it was Kelyn's turn to feel awkward, seated behind one of the Summer Elf guards on the back of a brown bear. The rolling gait of the bear felt nothing like the smooth trot of a reindeer, and the saddle had no place for him to put his staff. He had to hold it, which meant he only had one hand with which to hold on to the bear. And the bear did not seem to like him holding onto it.

Adaire- riding a stag, which seemed to come a lot more natural to him than a reindeer- came up beside the bear. "You look like you're about to fall off, Holly. Vidar, take his staff, will you?"

The guard offered Kelyn an apologetic half-smile, turning around to take the staff. Kelyn immediately felt better when he could hold onto the coarse fur with both hands. The guard seemed easily able to direct the bear with just one.

That was the thing about Adaire. He was immensely helpful, but in some strange way it always seemed condescending. Even when he meant it earnestly. The Summer Elves all knew about Kelyn's leg by now, but somehow Kelyn felt as if Adaire had pointed to it and shouted out to them all. Was it his imagination, or was there a trace of smugness settling on Adaire's lips as he rode back up to the front of the line?

Six months with the Oak Prince was going to feel like a very long time indeed.

The sun had begun to sink when the procession reached the center of the Summer Realm where the palace was located. The Winter palace was a lodge built from logs, and in some ways the Summer palace was much the same...except the logs hadn't been cut down.

Summer Elves, Kelyn had learned to his shock the first time he had spent half the year in their court, lived in trees.

Adaire sprang from his deer the moment he saw the oak grove, with its bridges and ramps leading from one tree-room to the next. Some of the trees had been hollowed out to hold multiple levels of rooms, others had their rooms built right into the canopy. Adaire flung himself at the ladder to the central, largest tree, scrambling up with speed, if not very much grace.

Kelyn's guard broke off from the rest, steering the bear to a tree at the back of the palace. Kelyn slipped off the bear's back- as quickly as he could- and accepted his bag and staff back.

This tree had been outfitted for him the first half-year he had spent in the Summer Realm. Most of the entrances to the Summer palace could only be accessed by ladder. Kelyn's had a lift that carried him up to the door- once in the trees, he could manage the bridges and ramps with the assistance of his staff, but a ladder was nearly impossible. He sat down on the lift, tucking his staff under his arm, and waited for the magic to activate, slowly carrying him up to the entrance into the tree.

He knew from past experience that it would take awhile for him to become accustomed to the heat of Summer. Even the nights were warm here. It wouldn't hurt him; he'd been left enough magic to keep his core cold. But it would feel strange until his body grew used to it.

Both princes had quarters in the other palaces, and Kelyn's lay just beyond the entrance tree. He made his way across the bridge, glancing down once at the ground far below.

His rooms were one of the hollowed trees, and the top room held a bed. Kelyn collapsed on top of it, letting his staff clunk to the floor. He took off his cloak and tossed it across the end of the bed. That feels a little better. The heat of the Summer Realm was always the hardest thing to get used to.

Someone rapped on the door, and Kelyn sat up. "Come in."

Adaire's familiar green face poked around the doorway. Kelyn immediately wished he would leave. That he could tell him to leave, but he was supposed to be an ambassador from the Winter Realm- he could not be so rude to their prince. The fragile peace between their kingdoms rested on his shoulders for the next six months.

"What do you want?" he asked instead.

Adaire shrugged. "See how you're settling in?"

Kelyn raised an eyebrow.

Adaire invited himself in, dropping into a woven chair in the corner of the room. "I actually came to apologize about the guard you were riding with. I should have told them to be careful about your staff." The corner of his lip quirked up. "You were clutching Ula's fur so tight I thought you would rip out a handful, and then there would have been some fun."

"Well, the deer seem to hate me, so the bears are my only option." Kelyn lay back on the bed with a sigh.

"It's the antlers."

"It's what?"

Adaire appeared in Kelyn's field of vision, leaning over the bed. He tapped his small round horns. "They don't mind ours, but they see a Winter Elf's antlers and think you're a stag. The other stags think you're a challenge and the does and fawns think you're a threat."

"Your deer...think that I am also a deer."

Adaire nodded, grinning. He had an infuriating sort of grin. Cocky. Smug, almost, although it didn't seem to be an on-purpose sort of smug. Adaire just seemed to be...like that.

Kelyn wondered what the Oak Prince thought of him. Does he think me too cold? Reserved? Stiff? Does his court think I am strange? He glanced to where his staff waited. Do they think I am weak?

Adaire had gone when Kelyn finally broke himself out of his thoughts. Kelyn hadn't even heard him leave, and the Oak Prince wasn't exactly quiet.

The Summer Realm always felt so different. He heard birds chirping and the soft rustling of leaves instead of whirling wind and the rattle of pine needles. The air smelled like green things and sunshine rather than the crisp smell of fresh snow. A little brook tumbled along just past the edge of the grove- Kelyn could see it from the far window hewn into the trunk of his tree. In his own realm, it would be frozen over, the water hidden underneath a layer of ice thick enough to stand on.

"This is hopeless," Kelyn whispered. "I will never get used to this realm." The homesickness always struck him hardest for the first few weeks, but this time it felt as though it was piercing him more sharply than before. Six months had never seemed so long.

Someone knocked on the door again. Kelyn sighed and slipped off the bed, picking up his staff as he went to the door. "Adaire, I really just want to be-"

The words faded like a flicker of smoke in the wind.

Featuring: elf whumpee, royal whump, tense and awkward conversations, fantastic racism I guess? Is that what I’ve done? Whoops

Taglist: @whumperofworlds @melpomenelamusa

Prompt used: fire and ice

Part One | Part Two

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Twelve Days of Whumpmas Day Three: Hollyoak, Part Three

The first time he had been taken to the Summer Realm, Kelyn had been much younger, and he had comforted himself by imagining that he could see something of his father in the lines of King Aritz's face. The two could not be more different- King Cyprian had warm brown skin, flowing white hair, no beard, and large antlers long since turned white with age. King Aritz had skin nearly the same shade of greenish-brown as his son if a bit darker, a red-brown beard curling over his chest, and small round horns that were still deep brown. But when he was younger, Kelyn had truly believed that he could make out the same gentle expression in the Oak King's eyes as he always saw in his father's.

He had soon learned better.

Featuring: elves (not the Santa kind), emotional whump and angst (it’ll get physical later don’t worry), magic whump, magic rituals, fantasy whump, my attempts at worldbuilding

Taglist: @whumperofworlds wanted to be tagged, and this is a brand new story, so. You are my taglist, you’re my taglist, boogie woogie woogie-

Prompt used: candle

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Twelve Days of Whumpmas Day One: Hollyoak, Part One

From the doorway, Kelyn watched his father put on the Crown of Two Realms. The silver half, with snowflake shapes worked into the metal, King Cyprian positioned so that the tallest central point reached up just between the base of his antlers. The golden half- engraved with sunbeams- faced the back of his head, its tallest point turned downward. When the Oak King took the crown tonight, he would turn it over and place the golden half upright and forward, while the silver half faced back and down.

"Is it heavy?" Kelyn asked.

The Holly King turned around, and attempted a smile. "Not on most days," he replied. "But today, yes. It is very heavy."

Kelyn slipped into the room and put a hand on his father's shoulder. King Cyprian sighed deeply, and his voice trembled. "It's a hard thing, you know, Kelyn. For half the year I am not a king. And that I could stand. But for half the year, I am also not a father."

"I'll be all right, Father." Kelyn forced cheer into his voice. "It's only a formality, really, there's never been any trouble. The Summer Realm isn't all that far. Don't worry about me. I'll be enjoying myself exploring the forest and seeing if I can make friends with the deer this year."

King Cyprian chuckled. "Still won't let you near them, eh? Flighty things. Not like our reindeer." He fastened his fur-trimmed cloak around his shoulders. "Speaking of the reindeer, we had better get them going soon. If we're not at the Tree by midnight-" The Holly King didn't finish his sentence. He opened the door of the royal lodge, and the two of them stepped out into the clearing.

The procession was a fairly small one. Not all the Winter Elves could come to witness the exchange of magic- most imitated the ceremony with their own families. Still, there was a small herd of reindeer saddled and bridled, and a dozen or so guards mounted on their white bears. There could be no weapons at the Tree, but the guards came anyway.

Three reindeer waited patiently at the front of the procession- one already had a rider. The Oak Prince, Adaire. He sat somewhat awkwardly on the reindeer's broad back, clutching the reins. His bag had been strapped behind him.

Kelyn's heart twisted a little at the sight. Adaire was going home tonight, while Kelyn was leaving it. The Summer Realm was only a day's journey away, but in that moment it felt like it was much too far.

Kelyn shook himself. You've done this before. It'll be all right. He tucked his staff underneath his arm and whistled softly to his black reindeer, Duff. The handsome bull blew a gust of air out of his nose and knelt down, letting Kelyn climb onto his back. Kelyn's own bag had been tied behind the saddle, and as Duff stood up he placed his staff in the special holder that had been made for it at the side. At the head of the herd, King Cyprian clicked to his own reindeer, and the procession began the solemn march to the Tree.

The Elves called it the Tree, but really it was two. An ancient oak, heavily laden with mistletoe, and a young holly, their roots intertwined with each other. It stood on the border between the Winter and Summer Realms, and that was where all meetings between the two kingdoms took place.

The most important of those meetings were the Solstices, winter and summer, when the crown and the power passed from one kingdom to another- and when the prince of one realm spent the next half a year in the realm that was not his own. In the old days it had been a hostage law, but now it was considered a show of trust and solidarity between the Oak King and the Holly King.

Kelyn stole a glance at Prince Adaire. His small horns and green skin marked him obviously as not belonging to the Winter Realm, and he looked strange on the back of a reindeer. But soon enough, he would be home among his people, and it was Kelyn who would be the outsider.

"Hmm," King Cyprian said softly, just loud enough for Kelyn to hear. "They're impatient tonight."

The Tree stood in front of them, only a little distance off. The Summer Elves already filled the edge of their half of the Circle surrounding it, dismounted from their mounts of brown bears and much smaller deer. At their head stood the Oak King, Adaire's father, King Aritz. Adaire leaned forward to wave at him and nearly fell off of his reindeer.

Kelyn wasn't looking forward to spending six months with Adaire in the Summer Realm. The two of them had been together in one court or another since they'd turned twelve, and had never quite gotten along. Kelyn was quiet and preferred to be by himself; Adaire loved the company of others and could talk for hours on end. And he always seemed louder and more boisterous when he was in his own kingdom.

The Winter Elves lined the edge of their own half of the Circle. The glances that passed between the two realms were tense, but not hostile. The exchange of power did its job in keeping the peace, but Kelyn suspected there would always be unease between the two.

He whistled to Duff, and climbed down from the reindeer's solid back, slipping his staff and bag from the saddle. He patted Duff's soft nose. "See you in six months, my friend," he whispered.

Adaire now stood on the other side of the circle with his father, and Kelyn moved to join King Cyprian, leaning on his staff more than usual because of the rocks that jutted up from the ground. The Circle and the Tree could not belong to either realm- it remained in a perpetual state of spring thaw or fall freeze, Kelyn could never tell which.

The elders waited under the Tree, one Winter Elf and one Summer Elf, their inside wrists tied together with a cord. King Aritz stood in front of them. King Cyprian gave Kelyn a glance that said everything, squeezed his shoulder, and took his place beside the other king. The two elders moved as one person, bending down to light a white candle that had been implanted in the ground. As they lit it, tiny blue candle flames sprang up at the feet of each Winter elf. Kelyn bent down to brush his hand through his- it was cold fire, magical. It clung to his fingers as he pulled it away.

"We are well met," began the Summer elder, his voice deep and sonorous. "Upon this Solstice Eve, when dark passes into light, when Winter gives way to Summer."

The Winter elder took over. It was always mostly the same speech, but who began it depended on whose solstice it was. Kelyn always liked to see the Winter elder, for she too leaned on a staff with her unbound hand. Hers was to assist blind eyes instead of a weak leg, but it made him feel better anyway. Blind or not, she seemed to be looking at Kelyn as she spoke. "We relinquish our power, to keep the peace between us hale and healthy. It is a sacrifice that we make freely, and await in peace the days when we will receive our magicks once again."

The Summer elder bowed to her. "We accept and acknowledge," he said quietly. "King Cyprian, King Aritz- the Crown of Realms."

The two kings stepped forward as one. Kelyn saw his father shift, straightening his back and lifting his head, before he knelt. King Aritz remained on his feet, his expression impassive.

The Summer elder moved behind King Cyprian. Kelyn braced himself, digging his staff more firmly into the ground. I hate this part.

The elder spoke words of magic in the secret language only magicians knew, and then lifted the crown from King Cyprian's brow. As he did, the Winter Elves collectively gasped, and a few cried out with the shock. The blue candle flames sputtered and died with a gust of wind like a last breath. Kelyn gritted his teeth and stayed silent, feeling the magic drain from his body. He couldn't explain how he felt it, he just felt it. It didn't leave fully- that would kill an elf, having their magic drained- but the spell left them just enough to keep them alive. Not enough to use any longer. For six months, there would be no winter magic. The snowstorms and cold would fade away as the magic sustaining them died, replaced by green leaves and sunshine.

It had to be this way. Kelyn understood that. But he hated it all the same.

King Aritz accepted the crown from the Summer Elder. Kelyn watched him turn it over in his hands, flipping the sunbeams upright, before he placed it on his head, golden half in front. The Summer Elves sighed almost as one, and a ripple of energy coursed through them as their own magic returned to them. Flames sprang up at their feet- hot golden flames, shimmering like the blue ones had, and Kelyn saw Prince Adaire reach down to touch his just as Kelyn had. The Tree shivered, and the grass in the Circle seemed to grow just a little greener.

"The wheel turns again," both elders said together, and ended the ceremony.

Kelyn breathed out, once, twice. Now was the part he had been dreading most of all.

This story is for the Twelve Days of Whumpmas event! It’s basically me putting Celtic mythology in a blender, dumping in worldbuilding, and pressing the milkshake button. It’s got elves- not the Santa kind, magic, royal whump, fantasy, and my favorite of all- messy relationships/weird dynamics.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five