# Another Perspective



# To: Elliot

Elliot,

So, we’ve finally gotten to our story. Are you excited, love? I know I am.

I should warn you. The first part of this tale will be background information, everything that led up to when we first met, and it doesn’t start out…great for me.

I promise, though. I *will* talk about us in the next few hours. I *will* retell the story of everything we did together. Hopefully, since you’ll be hearing it from my perspective, it won’t be too boring for you.

I won’t drag this intro out longer than it needs to be, though, so let’s dive into it. The only other thing I’ll say is that I love you very much, my genius inventor. You have been the light of hope for me in some of my darkest days, so in the coming hours, please remember. I loved you through most of this story’s events, and I love you now, even if everything that’s \]happened might make you doubt that.

I will always love you, Elliot.  
-Zaeden

# Chapter 1: Life Is Good

When King Adelbert of Acrar retired to his bedroom on a fine fall evening in the first year of his reign, Korix and I were waiting for him on his bed. Perched beside one another, we were chatting and laughing with drinks in our hands, a perfect picture of ease.

It was a false scene, of course. Korix never drank while I rarely touched the stuff anymore, and while we might be good at the pretense of relaxed and easy discourse, it wasn’t something that either of us could truly engage in right now.

We’d just finished… cleaning up—I’d call it—after the young king, and while the guilt of this would soon fade to a familiar, nagging ache, it was still raw in this moment.

Even so, Adelbert didn’t know this, so as he entered the room, he let the door fall closed behind him, staring at us, and never called for his guards. Exactly as I’d planned.

For a handful of heartbeats, nothing changed. Korix and I continued chatting as if the ruler of a nation hadn’t joined us, and he couldn’t bring himself to move, probably struck silent by what our presence represented. Then, he hesitantly cleared his throat.

*“Lokke Vitras,* what a pleasant surprise,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting your visit for another few weeks. How can I help you, and... may I inquire about your friend’s name?”

How should I play this? I could behave like a typical Lutovish would, demeaning the king because of my supposed ‘superiority’. Unfortunate as it was, that tactic worked best sometimes. It was what the children of Ibis expected from my people, and if I didn’t conform to the mold, they tended to believe I was humiliating them in some new and horrible way. Or that everything I said was insincere.

Adelbert, however, might be different for many reasons. For one thing, he and I had had few in-person interactions to date, merely the typical, monthly check-ins that I had with all of Ibis’ rulers, and I was always respectful during those meetings. Everything else I’d done to curb the young man’s rebellious nature had been done in the shadows.

And that was the other reason a more honest approach might work best. King Adelbert was one of the most difficult monarchs I’d had to handle in decades. He was constantly undermining Lutov’s control of his people, which I secretly applauded, but his efforts were not only pointless, unfortunately, but also dangerous, and not solely for him. I didn’t like considering what would happen to Acrar if House Vaessa decided to bring it in line.

Given all of this, I’d like to try honesty with him. He wouldn’t like what I had to say, but he might listen to me. It was just in his nature.

So, I cut off the chitchat, turning serious, and rose from Adelbert’s bed to deposit my largely untouched drink on the closest surface. Turning to the king, I bowed before folding my hands in front of me.

“I apologize for disturbing your evening, honored one, but recent events in your lovely home required my attention,” I said. “I hoped that we could discuss how we can prevent them in the future before you get some rest. Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Once more struck dumb, Adelbert slowly closed his gaping mouth.

“Recent… events?” he asked with his voice half-strangled.

“Yes. You know exactly what I’m talking about, Your Majesty. Please, don’t feign ignorance,” I said before waving at a nearby set of chairs. “Will you sit with me? We have much to discuss.”

Over the next hour and a half, King Adelbert and I dug into many subjects with a frank sincerity that both of us seemed to appreciate. I knew that I enjoyed hearing the king rage at me at least once during our conversation, but that was only because the glimpse of his willingness to *fight* gave me hope. Perhaps if more people like him came to rule Ibis during its current generation, its citizens could finally be free of us.

Throughout this, Korix stood in silent support. He was ever my shadow, not once interjecting, and this was exactly what I needed. Once we were finished and clear of the castle, though, he didn’t hesitate to share his thoughts on the meeting.

“Are you trying to foster a rebellion?” he said. “Because that’s what it looked like to me.”

Smirking, I said, “I’m not doing anything intentionally. I promise. I’m only treating the children of Ibis the way they should be treated and providing them with opportunities to better their lives. If that happens to incite certain behaviors that Vaessa doesn’t like, then honestly? So much the better for it.”

I expected Korix to frown at me for that. Even decades after he’d accepted that I’d play the *Lokke Vitras* role my way, I couldn’t help but think he’d disapprove of what I was doing. So, when he smiled at me instead, it set loose several butterflies in my stomach.

“Good. I’m glad the children of Ibis are starting to get what they’ve always deserved,” he said. “Shall we?”

I was also unused to how free he’d become with expressing his political opinions in recent years. Examples of it never ceased to do *certain things* to me. Given that, I was imagining several interesting scenarios that Korix and I could take part in as we made our way through Acova, Acrar’s capital city. Not even the place’s recurring theme—the examples of forced sex all around—could stop this, although they certainly and inevitably dampened my enthusiasm.

Still, this proved itself a blessing. When Korix and I returned to our quarters for the evening, I had the presence of mind to join him in a connection request.

Baely answered first.

“Hey, dad!” they sang as the connection was established. “I’m on a date! Can’t talk for long, ok?”

Chuckling, Korix finished shucking his outerwear so he could sprawl on the bed.

“That’s fine, sweetie,” he said. “We just wanted to say hello before getting some sleep.”

“How’s the date going?” I said at the end of this. “I’m guessing the wife’s happy, huh?”

Baely had gotten married to a lovely girl, Aksha, two years ago, and ever since, she’d been more content that I’d ever seen her before.

With a giggle, she whispered, “She’s ecstatic, and it’s going really well, but you can’t tell her that. I’m playing hard to get tonight, although I think she knows that. How was your day? Too stressful?”

I knew the anxiety that lay behind that question, even if it had failed to manifest in her voice.

“I had your father with me, so no,” I said, “and we didn’t mean to keep you! Like your father said, this is just us, saying hello.”

Again, Baely sang, “Hello!”

As they laughed, I burrowed deeper into Korix’s side, playing my fingers over his chest.

“Have fun tonight, sweetie,” he said. “Stay safe and remember that we love you.”

“I know! I love you too,” Baely said. “Bye, dad! *Per.”*

We said our own farewells before the connection cut, and while waiting for the second one to establish, I looked up at Korix, sneaking my fingertips beneath his waistline.

“Why do you think it’s taking so long?” I said. ‘Leski’s usually quick to accept.”

“Maybe she’s on a date of her own,” Korix said. “Patience, Zae. She can take all the time she wants.”

I knew that, but Mother Time, if I didn’t want to move on to the next part of the evening. When I pouted at him, Korix laughed before leaning down to kiss me, and that was when Leski accepted the connection request.

“Sorry, my loves. I was in the middle of something,” she said. “Have I missed Baely?”

As we pulled away from one another, Korix winced, which had me snorting. Patience, indeed.

“Only by a few minutes,” I said. “She and Aksha are on a date.”

“Oo, how nice! It’s wonderful that they keep the romance going like that, even this long into their marriage,” Leski said.

Smirking, I said, “Wife dearest. I’m sorry, but was that a hint?”

Predictably, Leski started sputtering at me, and I did my best to contain my laughter.

“You know… much as Zae may have been teasing, he has a point,” Korix said. “The three of us haven’t gone on a date together in a while. We should do that when we’re next in the same place.”

“Yes!” Leski shouted.

She’d been so loud with it that I pawed at my ear, making a face.

“It’s a good idea,” I said, “and I could make it happen soon. Maybe even as early as tomorrow, if we’re lucky.”

“You’re finished in Ibis?” Leski cautiously asked.

And I glanced at Korix. He knew how much it pained me that Leski still wanted little to do with my work as the *Lokke Vitras.* Given everything that had happened with House Cerullis’ dissolution three years ago, I could hardly blame her, but that made it hurt no less.

Korix squeezed me, and I said.

“Yes. We wrapped things up a few hours ago.”

“Which means we’ll probably see you early tomorrow,” Korix was quick to add, “unless something new comes up.”

“That’s fantastic!” Leski said.

I could see the grin spreading across her face, even with her halfway across the world from us.

“I’ve missed you two.”

“And we’ve missed you,” I said. “We’d already be on our way home tonight, but considering how busy the last week has been, a good night’s rest is in order.”

“Knowing you two, it’s probably long overdue as well,” Leski said. “Given that, though, I’ll let you get some sleep. Thanks for checking in with me.”

“Of course,” Korix said. “Have fun with your afternoon plans, love.”

“Oh, I will.”

Those two proceeded to say their goodbyes while I impatiently waited my turn. In recent years, they’d gotten sappy with one another, which I, of course, loved, but not when it interfered with my own plans.

Eventually, they said good night, and after I did the same, Leski returned to her activities for the day. As soon as the connection was cut, I rolled on top of Korix, pressing my lips to his, but after a moment, he pushed me away.

“We really should get some rest,” he said. “It’s been a long day, and I could use some good, old-fashioned cuddling right now.”

That was disappointing. Even still. After kissing Korix’s forehead, I leaned my own against it.

“That sounds lovely,” I said.

After we’d gotten settled, Korix and I chatted for a bit, but eventually, he fell to dreams. I stayed awake, staring at him long after he’d entered a deeper sleep stage.

Three years might have passed since the last major upset in my life, but to me, it felt like no time at all had passed. I was still too raw from the damage done, still too broken and unsure of how to change, and this meant I barely ever let myself indulge in something as healing as sleep.

By now, things should have returned to a pseudo-normal. I should be mostly ok with only minor hiccups of instability to disturb me.

Instead, my life had become a private nightmare. Three years, I’d walked on the edge of losing control. Three years, I’d struggled to stay on top of my job while keeping that fight hidden, and somehow, no one had noticed.

Well. Almost no one. Korix knew. I’d told him everything, including every shameful secret that I might have kept to myself before House Cerullis’ dissolution.

So, he knew how little I slept. He’d helped me when I’d cried and screamed myself hoarse after nightmares.

He knew how much I was floundering in my romantic relationships. During the increasingly frequent times when I’d needed to be alone, he’d made enough excuses for me.

Most importantly, he knew how little control I retained over my deep-cover personas. He’d had to drag me free of their influence many times after missions where I’d had to use them.

I didn’t know what I’d do without him, but I was grateful for all the ways he saved me. I was thankful for his love and support and how much they sustained me.

At least I’d made progress in other areas over the last three years. Talira had started including me in Lutov’s politics, and that had been going well. I’d made many allies among the higher-ups, which would be useful when I started making a move toward my long-term goals.

In addition, my tacit support of the people promoting Ibisian rights had seen their numbers swelling more than ever before. By merely existing, those people exerted a certain amount of influence, and every gram of pressure that they applied to Vaessa further weakened Lutov’s control over a continent that we never should have claimed.

Lastly, Leski and I had reached a comfortable neutrality over the last three years. While things weren’t quite the same between us, we both seemed happy with the compromises we’d made and our positions in one another’s lives.

So, at least I had some things going for me.

I shouldn’t be thinking about these things right now, though. I should be enjoying this moment, pressed up against a man I loved as he peacefully dreamt. So, squeezing him closer, I pushed my nose into his back, breathed in, and relaxed. Right now, I was ok. Right now, things were fine. And I could make sure that I appreciated that, damnit.

# Chapter 2: My World Shatters

Korix woke me up with a pleasant surprise in the morning. Not a minute after rousing, I was bucking off of the sheets while pulling him closer, and soon after that, we were tangled around one another. It was a wonderful way to start the morning, one that only got ruined a half-hour later.

Korix and I were in the washroom, getting ready for the day, when Talira requested a connection. Groaning, I waved for Korix to back off before accepting the request.

“Yes, my *shukusen?”* I said once it had established.

And hell, if my voice hadn’t been frigid. My relationship with my grandmother hadn’t improved much in the last three years, but that never seemed to bother her. I was half-convinced that she regarded me as a child throwing a tantrum, even if I knew differently.

“I have a mission for you, my *Lokke Vitras,”* she said without preamble. “House Zan has asked for help with an *ii* hunt, and since the mage’s last reported location is close to your current coordinates, I want you to handle it. From what I’ve seen, it should be a simple enough mission.”

Great. Here I’d been, thinking maybe I could have a relaxing day for once.

Still, Talira was right. Unless this *ii* claimed one of the more dangerous magic types, hunting them down shouldn’t take too long. Korix and I could still meet Leski for a date later tonight.

…I hated that my life had made thoughts like that possible.

“Of course, my *shukusen,”* I said. “I’ll see it done.”

“Good,” Talira said before pausing for a moment. “Be safe, Zae-zae.”

She cut the connection before I could reply, which only had me rolling my eyes. With me acting so coldly toward her in recent years, I understood why she’d become so careful with her affection, but that made said caution no less annoying.

When I refocused on my surroundings, Korix was already out of the shower, drying off. He handed me a towel after I joined him.

“Mission?” he asked.

*“Ii* hunt,” I said.

Korix winced while I ran a towel over my hair.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said. “Hopefully, we can bring them in alive. Unless you’d rather sit this one out?”

For a moment, Korix considered this before shaking his head.

“No. Send me the dossier,” he said. “We’ll do it together.”

Nodding, I did as he’d asked, and after getting dressed, we left Acova.

Apparently, by ‘near my current coordinates’, what Talira had meant was that the *ii* hunt would begin on the other side of ibis. Korix and I rode the train to the mountains on the far side of Escad in silence, content in one another’s silence, and once it had arrived at the station closest to where we needed to be, we started tracking our target, who quickly led us into the wilderness.

As we moved along, I refused to focus on what I was doing. Unfortunately, this practice, long drilled into me, had gotten rusty in recent years, so my mind kept turning to the mission’s parameters. Mother Time, I was hunting down another person to *kill* them. Maybe I’d get lucky, and that wouldn’t have to happen but…

Around us, the mountain’s hush tried to impart a sense of calm to me, one that only accented what was running through my mind, and hell, if I wasn’t thankful when Korix broke the silence.

“What should we do with Leski tonight?” he quietly asked.

How did he always know when I needed a distraction?

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe we can play a game. Whoever gets her to moan the loudest wins-”

“That’s… not what I meant,” Korix interrupted.

Grinning at him, I said, “I know.”

With a snort, Korix pulled me to him, and wrapping his arms around my neck, he dragged me down until he could kiss the top of my head.

As he released me, he said, “I can never love you, Zae.”

And again, I grinned.

“I know,” I said.

Returning my focus to the forest, I seriously considered Korix’s question, although I quickly came up short for answers.

“I’m not sure what we should do,” I said. “I heard that someone famous was doing a public reading of your book tonight, though. Maybe we should-”

“Please, no,” Korix groaned.

“Thought not,” I said. “That would embarrass you way too much.”

As Korix laughed under his breath, I smiled. Times like this were what I needed: moments when I was reminded of how normal my life could be.

The sound of a snapping twig broke my reverie. With a weapon drawn, I crouched, noting the flare of indicated magic that had splashed into my array. Shit. The mage had almost gotten the drop on us.

Fortunately, my reaction times had barely saved me once more, given how my hair was rustling from something passing overhead, but I couldn’t give the near miss my attention. I darted for the source of the noise, soon picking an anomalous splotch of white out from against a background of trees, and with my target in sight, I threw my drawn knife. The mage ducked, but that didn’t matter. I was in range.

My rifle filled my hand as I punched at my target, but before the blow could land, a random sunray was beamed into my eyes. Or perhaps it wasn’t so random. After all, this *ii* was a Solateer. They could control light.

When my blow missed, I had to trust in instinct, pulling in on myself as I fell into a roll, and the heat of a fire ball seared my back. By the time I’d reached my feet, my vision had cleared, so I aimed for the mage, unsure if I could avoid a killing blow.

Something jolted my arm, sending a released energy bolt into the sky, and as I clawed at the Augnat-created plant life cinched around my wrist, I started cursing under my breath. Where the fuck was Korix? This mage had already been more dangerous than expected, and I might actually need help with taking them down.

Those thoughts got swept aside as gravity lost its hold on me. I managed to grab a tree branch before Fixer magic could send me shooting into the sky.

Hastily, I raised my wrist, still covered in twigs, to block another fire ball, although it also turned my skin bright red. I deadened that arm’s pain receptors so I could get a better hold on my tree branch, and all the while, the mage screamed. They must have maintained their connection to the plant life that had been binding me. I couldn’t imagine the pain its destruction must have transmitted to them.

With a surge of my muscles, I swung to a better position, hooking my feet in tree limbs to keep from drifting away, and shot at the mage again. This energy bolt took them in the shoulder, which summarily has them losing the focus needed for their Fixer magic.

I tumbled to the ground, leaping to my feet once there, and ignored the sun’s glare in my eyes. With my array projecting the mage’s location for me, I was prepared for that source of disorientation this time.

Within two steps, I was close enough to punch the mage in the face, and as they reeled away from me, I grabbed their arm, twisting them. When they fell, I pulled that arm up high, popping it out of its socket, and drove my knee between their shoulder blades.

“Give up,” I panted. “I don’t want to kill-”

They slapped their free hand to my thigh. As blistering heat surged from that spot, I snatched a knife free, slamming its hilt into their head, and they went limp.

Too limp.

Cursing, I clambered off of the *ii,* rolling them over so I could press my fingers to their neck and slumped when no pulse leapt against my skin. They were dead. I wasn’t sure how that had happened, given that I hadn’t swung my knife hard enough to cause fatal damage, but it didn’t matter. Much as I’d have liked to avoid it, I’d killed my target. The mission was over.

And not once had I gotten help with it.

After climbing to my feet, I rested my hands on my hips with my head thrown back, catching my breath, but despite my expectations, no one critiqued my performance or circled his arms around my waist from behind. When I could, I glanced at the mage, shaking my head at the sight of their empty eyes.

“Mother Time damnit all,” I breathed.

Then, I spun on my negligent partner.

“Where the *hell* were…?”

My words piled on themselves at the sight of Korix, lying face-down where the fight had started. He was so still with red soaking the snow beneath him, and I was at his side in a blink. Discolored ice crystals cascaded over us as I dropped to my knees beside him.

“Where’s the wound?” I said, frantically patting him down. “Can I move you?”

He didn’t answer me, though, and I didn’t have time to second-guess myself. Since I could see nothing wrong on the parts of him that were in view—*don’t look at the wet spot on his back!*—I hauled him over, although without him helping me do that, it became a struggle. Every well-defined muscle that I’d enjoyed over the years had become dead weight now, and at the idea that his injuries could have knocked him unconscious, I panicked. Just a little.

After I’d flopped him onto his back, I dug through my pockets for RRD hypos and other forms of first aid, all while scanning Korix. I started at his feet, trailed up his legs, lingered on his waist, and skipped over his chest—*Don’t see the hole there. Don’t see it!*—to his crimson-stained neck.

“What’s wrong, Ko? I don’t see any damage,” I said.

Oh, Mother Time. Had that been hysteria creeping into my voice. I had to ignore it. Had to…

“You have to tell me what’s wrong. You… you have to *say something!”*

But he refused to do as I’d demanded.

My trembling fingers lost traction on my healing supplies, and as hypos and bio gel fell into the sodden snow, I forced myself to meet Korix’s eyes. They were still gray—such a lovely lack of color that had always made me melt—but their ever-present, brown striations were spreading.

And they were empty. Like the mage’s had been.

Something high-pitched and heart-breaking ripped through the air around me, and hazily, I watched myself rest shaking hands on Korix’s face before they drifted down, down, down…

They stopped at the gaping hollow in his chest, the place where his heart should be, and as I dipped my fingers into it, my breathing stopped with my need for air gone. My thoughts circled a single word.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, *no, no, nononononono!*

I brushed a red line over his clothes and a neck that had once begged for my lips, a jaw that had made me smile at its every determined set. I stopped this spread on his cheeks with the bone beneath it pinching his skin to mine.

“Ko?” I breathed. “You need to get up, ok? Leski needs us to come home together. We- we have a date and Baely… Hell, what am I going to tell our-?”

I cut off, waiting for him to reply. Any second now, his weakened voice would pierce through this unbearable silence. He’d… he’d laugh at me for worrying, but the seconds sloshed into seconds, so many of them that I lost track, and as the snow melted beneath my knees, its imparted cold seeped through the protective fabric covering me. It crept up my legs and chest, freezing my heart into an intolerable ache, and words were torn from me.

“Stop it, Ko! This isn’t funny. I need you to-”

Fiercely, I bit my lip, wondering why I couldn’t feel the pinch of my teeth, before roughly shaking my head.

“I love you, ok?” I said. “We’ve gone for decades without me saying it, and you’d force it from me now, you selfish bastard? I LOVE YOU!”

As the declaration echoed around me, something wet spilled from my eyes, washing a trail through crusty crimson after it had hit his skin.

“Are you happy?” I sobbed. “I said it, so please, Ko. Please. Get up.”

But he didn’t, and I stared at splotchy brown, spreading into wide strips of gray, and something snapped. My world became a yawing stretch of forever without him.

And as all of me faced this reality, I roared.

“No!”

I *wouldn’t*. I. would. not. Do you hear me, oh master of my destiny? *I wouldn’t do it.*

Lowering myself alongside Korix, I pulled him to me, rhythmically sweeping my thumb under his eye, and as it steadily changed color with his body turning cold against mine, I didn’t feel it, didn’t see it. Rocking in place, I hummed a song of Leski’s, one half of my home.

Blankly gazing at the other half, now gone.

# Chapter 3: He's Dead

I was still singing to myself when Leski found me. At least, I thought it was so. It was hard to tell, wrapped in my cocoon as I was.

I’d isolated. Retreated. Fallen far into the fog of my mind, deeper than mission mode could ever take me.

The walls between me and my emotions, me and the outside world, me and any other behavioral state beyond containment had snapped into place, but all this meant was that everything that lay beyond the confines of my mind filtered to me as a distant, murky silhouette. A faint representation of what was actually happening.

Snapshots. My world had become a series of snapshots.

*It was the morning after the fight.*

My body was numb from the cold and… other things, and frostbite was steadily killing my extremities. My throat hurt from all of the humming and mumbled, one-sided conversations I’d had, but I couldn’t shut up. Talking was holding something at bay.

Someone I loved was screaming nearby. She pawed at me, checking my pulse before facing me to where I could see the sky, but I just rolled back over, even if it took all of my strength. Hysterically, she talked to no one… or someone, listening through her array. I wasn’t sure which it was.

I wasn’t sure I cared.

*It was an hour later.*

A strike ship had landed within view, and a stranger was trying to pull me away from… from Korix. I had enough energy to throw them off of me, but then, someone I loved… Leski had to help with getting us loaded onto the Packhorse. Collapsed on the strike ship’s floor, I rocked Korix in my arms, softly singing the same damn song, and wished I could help my wife.

She needed me. I knew it. But my pain was too great to acknowledge that fact or how much she was weeping. Maybe that made me the asshole. How I wished I was ok enough to feel guilty for that.

*It was three days since… it had happened.*

I wasn’t sure where the time had gone or when they’d taken Korix away, but I’d woken up without him by my side, and now, I was wandering through the apartment, calling his name. He wouldn’t answer me, and I couldn’t find him, and *ohMotherTimeIcouldn’tdothis.*

Baely found me in the washroom, halfway through opening another deep cut in my arm—

*He wasn’t here anymore. I no longer had to keep my promise.*

—and they gasped at the blood that was slowly drying on the floor. I tried to hide it, tried to push them out of the room, but they’d gotten strong over the years, and I’d taught them well. They held me down until Leski could come to help, and all the while, I sobbed my apologies to them.

Hell, where had my resolve to be a good parent gone? Where was any of who I’d once been?

*It was a week since my life had ended.*

I’d only fought through the fog because what I was currently looking at had forced its way through to me, delivering a breath of hope. Korix was lying on a raised platform, peacefully sleeping, and for a moment, relief stole my breath.

It had been a dream. Thank Mother Time, it had all been a horrible night-

Flames flickered somewhere nearby, and when I located the noise’s source, lapping at Korix’s clothes, I leapt forward, batting at the fire.

“What are you *doing?”* I screamed. “Stop! You can’t- can’t hurt him!”

Someone took hold of me, dragging me away, and no matter how much I resisted this, scratching and biting and kicking and shouting, I couldn’t escape them.

“Zaeden!” Talira hissed in my ear. “I’m so sorry, but *you need to stop.* You cannot lose it like this at his Dispersal. He wouldn’t want that!”

Dispersal…

That word might have paralyzed my mind, but I could still move my body. Slowly, I scanned my surroundings.

I saw Leski and Baely, collapsed on each other and crying. I saw a vast crowd behind them, staring at me. I saw the fire, determinedly eating away at Korix’s… body.

And as *so much screaming filled my head,* turning all of me into chaos, I went limp. Talira held me up as I surrendered to the fog again.

*It was a year since Korix had died.*

I surfaced from my first deep-cover mission since then, and everything I was, including that intolerable memory, crashed into me again. Mother Time, how familiar had this become? How often had I ‘woken up’ like this over the last year?

As I shuddered on my bedroom floor, I wondered how a year could feel like a few weeks. Why did everything still feel so fresh, like my torn-apart heart and eviscerated guts were as laid open to the world as they’d been back then? Would it ever end?

*It had been… I didn’t know how long since Korix had FUCKED UP and LEFT ME.*

I was sitting in Talira’s office, listening to her berate me. She was saying something about how I was hiding behind my personas, letting them control me too much, but I was only half-listening, reading through my to-do list while I waited for her to finish.

Work was keeping me alive. Why couldn’t Talira or Pheniks or Leski or fucking *any of my loved ones* see that? I needed it, otherwise I would choose to die, stepping into the next energy bolt shot at me, and damn the consequences to Lutov or them.

I loved them. I didn’t want to leave them, but- but it was all *too much.*

Knowing Korix was waiting for me in the Collective. Trying to work through his death and all the havoc it had wreaked in my life. Wishing I could share the burden with Leski or Baely or anyone really, but also remaining well aware that as soon as I trusted someone with that monumental task, they’d get ripped away too. It would be better if I didn’t risk it, both for myself and them.

So, I sat and clung to my lifeline of work while Talira talked, and once she’d finished, I easily smiled and lied to her, much as I did with everyone now.

*Yes, I’ll keep your advice on moving forward in mind.*

*No, I’m not hurting myself anymore.*

*Yes, I’ll reach out if things get too overwhelming.*

*No, I absolutely am NOT furious that you’re only offering me this support now, long after I could have used it to recover.*

*Yes, I know that everything will be fine in the end.*

I was good at selling the lies. Talira never doubted the sincerity of what I’d said, although she seemed unsure about whether I’d follow through with my promises, but honestly? I was fine with that.

After I’d left her office, anger briefly broke through to me, laying a single finger on my mind, and I tiredly said.

“Fuck you, Talira.”

*It had been long enough that when I fought through the fog this time, I’d stopped wondering how much time I’d missed.*

Feena, Pheniks and I had met up for our monthly gathering, and they quietly listened as I recited this month’s report on my life. As soon as I noticed where I was, however, I disconnected, joining them as part of my captive audience, and noted with approval how much enthusiasm I’d injected into my voice tonight.

Hell. I actually sounded alive for once.

As soon as I was done, my siblings broke into grins and congratulations on Baely’s recent jump in Strata, and I mechanically responded as a good father shood. While each of them gave their own reports, I obediently listened and asked questions when appropriate, but soon enough, our meeting ended, and I could say goodbye.

Feena caught up with me before I could escape.

“I don’t want to ask this question. I want to believe that you’re happy again, like you keep insisting,” she said, “but I’ve been told by certain *trusted sources* that this might not be true. So. How much of your behavior tonight was an act?”

Ah, the Chosen and their varied ways of messing with me. I’d love to hate them, but I just didn’t have the resources for it anymore.

“None of it was real, Feena,” I said. “I’m sorry. I wish it were otherwise, but I’m… I’m just tired nowadays. Ok?”

With stretched-thin lips, my sister regarded me for a moment before shaking her head.

“Those Ostium legends about the bloodsong are true, aren’t they?” she quietly asked. “He was the one to complete your song.”

I registered a dull pang of surprise that Feena knew about those old tales before considering what she’d said. As I looked back on my life, I compared how vivid and emotional and *there* I’d been before Korix had died with how much of a shade I was now, going through the motions while waiting to die, and winced.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, he was.”

Twenty-eight years, eleven months, nine days, fourteen minutes, and fifty-six seconds had passed me by, stuck in hell as I was, before Talira dragged me, kicking and screaming, back to permanent residence in the world beyond my mind’s fog.

“I have a new mission for you,” she said. “An *ii* hunt.”

That got my attention. Over the last two and a half decades, *ii* hunts were the only things that could get me fully involved in the outside world anymore. I hated mages now. It was an irrational hatred, I knew, and maybe at one point, I’d have struggled to get rid of it. Now, though, I clung to any positive emotion I could get.

I wasn’t sure when hatred had become a positive for me.

“All right. Send me the dossier so I can get started,” I said.

And I thought that would be the end of it, letting me drift away for a time, but Talira surprised me.

“You can’t kill this one, Zae-zae,” she said. “We need her alive and… well. Just read something about her besides what you need for the fight this time, ok?”

When had my grandmother started referring to an *ii* as something besides ‘it’?

“Is that an order?” I flatly said. “Because I’d rather not learn more about a target than I must.”

There was a pause.

Then, Talira snapped, *“Yes,* that’s a fucking order.”

Damn. She’d bitten my head off with that one. How much did she care about this mage? For some reason, this anomaly tugged at my attention like the moon did with the tide.

Absently, I said, “Acknowledged.”

But I wasn’t listening as Talira wrapped up our conversation. I was too busy with opening a dossier on a mage who’d managed to claw her way in to my grandmother’s affections.

That was quite the feat. If anyone should know this, it was me, and as I read through the *ii’s* background, I let this idea tumble through my mind.

For the first time in decades, I let something distract me from my pain.

# Addendum

I can't. I'm sorry, Elliot, but I just can't. Even with all the work I've put into healing from this, it still hurts worse than almost everything else I've endured, a broken splinter in my heart and soul that tears through everything around it with every disturbance.

So, please. Let's just move on.

# Chapter 4: A Chance to Reconcile

I reached Ibis without incident, although I was curious why mission mode or one of my personas hadn’t pushed their way to my mind’s forefront by the time I’d arrived. Even before losing Korix, they hadn’t been giving me much choice about how and when they took over. The stress of everything had simply made my loss of control more apparent.

Granted, I’d had something interesting to hold my focus while on the way here. The target of my current mission claimed a few mundane magic types. She was an Earthshaker, Vimian, and Vanisher, but she was also a Shade, and that raised some concerns for me.

Shades certainly weren’t the most dangerous of mages. No, that honor went to Truthseekers and their ability to know what someone would do before they did it, but while Shades merely controlled shadows, in the same wa Solateers manipulated light, they were more powerful than most other mages for two reasons.

First, unlike their opposites, Shades could condense the shadows into physical objects. Granted, only the most powerful among them could do this, but the ability to conjure a weapon or tool from darkness alone was a scary one to face.

If that weren’t bad enough, every Shade, no matter how weak or powerful, became invisible while surrounded by darkness, completely undetectable to the eye. On top of that, this ability required such little magic usage that an array usually didn’t pick up on it. The only times this ability would relent was when a Shade was in the presence of someone they trusted, and even then, their invisibility only dropped for said trusted individuals.

Given these advantages, I’d always been grateful that Shades were born almost as infrequently as Truthseekers, maybe once every ten years. Of more relevance, though, of course I was having to track one of them now, during a mission where I’d been ordered to capture my target alive.

I was doing my best to ignore the other details found in this mage’s dossier, namely her age. If I focused on that, I might start to feel compassion for her and…

Well, my hatred of mages had, in some ways, been the only thing keeping me going for twenty-eight years.

When I arrived in Ostiu’s capital city of Zoln, Pheniks was waiting for me, which was surprising. Usually, if he needed to see me for something mission specific, he summoned me like any other *shukusen* would, an annoyance I’d long since learned to put up with. Given that, why was he giving me special treatment this time?

As I stepped out of the tube, he gave me a short bow.

*“Lokke Vitras.”*

Hmm. And he was acting exceedingly formal. What was going on?

*“Shukusen* Pheniks, how nice to see you,” I said. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Folding his hands in front of him, Pheniks said, “I’d like to speak with you, if I may. Privately.”

Privately?

“Of course. I’m happy to speak with you in whatever manner you wish,” I said. “I am, however, working right now, so I may not have as much time as you require.”

“I’m sure it’ll be enough,” Pheniks said.

He strode off without waiting for a reply, and I followed, staring at his back. Again. *What* was going on?

Eventually, Pheniks led me to his office, and as we took our seats, I looked around, taking in his recent renovations. I liked the representation of a night sky that he’d installed in the ceiling.

With a pleasantly neutral smile, I folded my hands in my lap.

“How may I serve, *shukusen* Pheniks?” I said.  
Better to stay formal. At the moment, I wasn’t sure of our relationship’s status. Even before Korix had… died, it had been shaky, and after twenty-eight years of my probable bullshit—

It would help if I could remember more of that. Maybe I should start reviewing my array’s record of it, but that would have to wait.

—I doubted that things between us had gotten any better.

With a soft huff, Pheniks rubbed his face.

“Who am I speaking with this time?” he asked through his hands. “Liyam? That one’s been pretty dominant lately. Or maybe I’ll have some luck for once and get Rylan. He’s the easiest one for me to get along with.”

Umm…

“It… it’s just me, Phen. Your brother,” I said. “Why would you ask who I am?”

Frowning, Pheniks lifted his face out of his hands, and on seeing the look on his face, I winced. Yes, given my recent behavior, that had been a dumb question on my part.

Even still, it had surprised me. I hadn’t taken the time to consider what almost three decades worth of me relying on my personas would have been like for the people in my life. In fact, if I was being honest, I hadn’t been sure if anyone besides Talira and maybe Leski would have noticed.

I’d thought for sure that my original persona, the one I’d created when I was six and who’d mostly run my life from then until my House naming ceremony, had taken over as the… primary person, we’d call it. I didn’t remember exactly when I’d started using that persona’s ingrained behaviors to handle the outside world while my conscious mind had faded into autopilot in the background, but the first time I’d noticed it happening, I’d been content with letting the practice continue. Pre-*Lokke Vitras* Zaeden was similar to me. I hadn’t thought anyone would notice if he was the one handling interactions with other people.

That seemed to have been presumptuous on my part, but even more concerning was that apparently, he wasn’t the primary person as often as I’d thought, given the other personas my brother had named. Well, shit.

Finished with staring at me, Pheniks laid his hands on the desk with his head cocked.

“Zae?” he cautiously said. “It’s really you?”

Hell, my face would be burning if I hadn’t stopped the rush of blood to my cheeks a few seconds ago. This was going to be *fun*.

“It’s me,” I said. “I…”

Hmm. What was I supposed to add here?

“Damn,” Pheniks said, interrupting my thoughts.

When I raised an eyebrow at him, he made a face.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just not used to seeing… *you* when you’re working nowadays.”

…Or maybe my brother hadn’t noticed the deeper changes in me. Maybe pre-*Lokke Vitras* Zaeden had been the primary person, and the deep-cover personas had only gotten out of control while I was on missions lately.

Fuck, if I did decide to stick around, that side of life would be a lot more difficult to untangle than I’d thought.

“Anyway, I’m glad it’s you this time,” Pheniks said. “I’ve got a rather sensitive problem I need help with, and I wasn’t sure who to broach the subject with *them*. I’d worked out this whole strategy of different approaches, depending on which one of them showed up, but it looks like that was a waste of time now.”

He paused before rushing to say.

“Not that I’m unhappy to see you, of course!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at my brother’s awkwardness. Was he still having trouble with social situations, even after this long as a *shukusen?*

“Well, I’m glad to have made your request simple for you, no matter how annoying that might also be,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

Chewing on his lip, Pheniks eyed me for a moment before taking a breath.

“Have you been paying attention to anything that’s happening in Ostiu lately?” he asked.

It was a valid question, if still an uncomfortable one. Yes, it touched on my distinct lack of control over my personas, but it also called into question my ability or lack thereof to maintain the aura of perfection that the *Lokke Vitras* must have, although… I wasn’t sure I cared about that anymore. Even still.

“I’ve paid enough attention,” I shortly said.

Which had probably been a mistake. Pheniks tensed at the tone of my voice, and I hated that. I hadn’t been irritated with him. I’d just been… irritated. It was one of the only emotions that had broken through my numbness over the last twenty-eight years, so my control in the face of it wasn’t as good as it had once been.

Still, Pheniks had heard it, and now, it was one more stone in the wall that had been building between us since he’d become a *shukusen.*

“So, you know that young mages have been disappearing from the capital over the last fifteen months,” he said.

Honestly? No. I’d had no idea. Pheniks didn’t need to know that, though.

“I’d heard rumors,” I said.

Nodding, Pheniks said, “Well, that’s the problem. The Ostiums with their silly worship of their mages have recently established an escape route out of my House’s area of control, or what we can easily control, at least. Whatever has been drawing the *iisen* to the uninhabitable region around the site of the Upheaval has suddenly and inexplicably become irresistible to them… or some of them, I suppose.”

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair while tossing his hands to either side.

“I honestly don’t understand this change, Zae,” he said. “It’s no longer the occasional adult mage who’s running for escape. Now, it’s a flood of their children, left in the mountains by their norm parents. It baffles me. How could a parent expose their child to the elements like that?”

Unfortunately, I understood those parents’ reasoning, even if their subsequent decision also made me cringe. What good parent wouldn’t take a chance to give their child a better life? And given the Ostiums’ horrid circumstances, I could see how leaving a child in the snowy mountains, a place their oppressors had so much trouble with monitoring, might seem like a chance at that. The draw of freedom was just that strong. If anyone among my people could understand that, it was me.

Even with all of that, though, I wasn’t sure what could have prompted the sudden surge of escape attempts that Pheniks was describing, especially with regards to it being children instead of adults. So far as I was aware, nothing had changed in Ostiu’s desolate west, where the Upheaval’s origin point was still causing havoc.

So, perhaps the cause could be found elsewhere. If it could, I had no way of identifying it. Now that my attention had been drawn to it, I could see how deplorable my awareness of recent events had become.

Fortunately, Pheniks kept talking, so I didn’t have to voice any of this.

“Anyway, that’s what I need help with: plugging this new hole in Zan’s hold on Ostiu,” he said, “and I figured I should ask for your help with it now, since your current target’s mother has admitted to using this supposed ‘escape route’.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. Pheniks and his people had captured this mage’s mother? Such initiative was rare for them, and beyond that, my dossier had said nothing about this little fact.

“The *ii’s* mother,” I flatly said.

Pheniks frantically nodded.

“That’s another reason I asked specifically for you on this hunt instead of another *ii* hunter,” he said. “Your target is the daughter of a mage.”

I hadn’t thought anything could make my eyebrows rise any higher, but that revelation certainly did it.

“A… mage,” is aid. “That’s… strange.”

The birth of a mage among even Ostiu’s norm population had gotten exceedingly rare in the last century. In fact, the trickle of them had slowed to almost nothing the last time I’d checked. So, another *ii* being born to a mage now, after almost two centuries absent such a phenomenon, seemed…

Ok. I’d just say it. It seemed impossible, and if I didn’t know my brother better, I’d think he was mistaken.

“Strange? It’s downright unnerving, Zae! Imagine having to interrogate an *ii* about what it’s done with its daughter,” Pheniks said with a shudder. “Anyway, if it’s telling the truth about what it’s done with your target, you could use this *ii* hunt to start gathering clues about the escape route. If you’re up for helping, that is.”

Mother Time, he looked so uncertain right now! I understood why that was happening, given how distant and- and absent I’d been recently. Like our parents, growing up.

Damn. Had I been making him feel like we were kids again, desperately hoping they’d come home to check on us? Had he been reliving those awful moments of wondering whether we’d have enough nutrients to supply the estate’s refectory for another week? Or- or… how about the fear he might have felt from me when our parents had almost forgotten to take him to his array insertion appointment?

No. He’d probably been too young to remember that.

Roughly, I shook my head, pushing back against a swell of something I didn’t want to name. If there was ever anything I absolutely could not think about, it was all of… that. Whatever it had been.

I’d just been thinking about something strange, right?

“Zae? Everything all right?”

Rapidly blinking, I coughed, shaking my head again.

“Yeah. Sorry,” I muttered.

What had Pheniks been asking me about before? Something about… whether I’d help with his current problem.

“I don’t know, Phen,” I said, still a little distracted. “I’ll have to run it past Talira.”

My brother’s face started falling, pulling my attention fully back to him, and damn. I couldn’t, *wouldn’t,* have that. Not again.

“But whatever she ends up saying, I’ll keep an eye out for clues while on this mission,” I added. “Anything I find, I’ll bring back to you with my target.”

I could probably keep that promise, considering Talira hadn’t told me what to do with this mage. She was dangerous enough that I should probably hand her over to ‘our friends in the Eastern Reaches’, but not only did I want nothing to do with the Chosen but I desperately wanted to help Pheniks.

Even if I wasn’t sure if I should. Much as I might hate mages now, I understood and sympathized with their bids for freedom. Plus, shortly before Korix had… died, I’d resolved to start looking for more concrete ways that I could break free of the *Lokke Vitras* role. This escape route could very well be a chance at that.

In the end, though, all of this wasn’t something I should address right now. I should use the time I’d brought by reassuring Pheniks to consider whether I’d help him in truth.

Slumping, my brother said, “I’ll take any help you can give. Thanks.”

I inclined my head in acknowledgment, wondering if with Pheniks’ request in hand, I could leave now. This conversation had brought too much to light, too many things that could keep me attached to the outside world, and I still wasn’t sure if I wanted that.

Originally, I’d only been interested in learning about a mage who’d somehow gained my grandmother’s attention. The mage had warranted enough of that for Talira to protect her, and my grandmother *rarely* asked for me to grant a mission’s target mercy. Whatever had prompted this protectiveness, it seemed like something I could use in the future, and I…

I might be a bit envious too. How had an unknown mage sparked such a protective instinct in someone who hadn’t shown me something similar in decades? Someone who should have wanted to protect me without prompting or more importantly, without restriction.

Damn. That realization stung, and on top of everything else, it was… a lot. I could feel the world going fuzzy, dulling me from my emotions, and surprisingly, I didn’t want that to happen right now.

I needed to get out of the room. Focus on the job. Before I could make my excuses, however, Pheniks shifted in place.

“How- how have you been?” he asked. “If you’re interested, we could get dinner. Talk.”

Oh, no. This might be an opportunity to mend fences with my little brother, something I’d wanted for ages, and I couldn’t take him up on it because-

“I need to go,” I sharply said, only halfway aware of speaking aloud.

That fact only hit me when Pheniks recoiled. Shit.

“I didn’t mean-” I started to say, desperate to fix my mistake.

My brother was having none of it, though.

“I understand,” he interrupt. “I wish you luck on your hunt, *Lokke Vitras.”*

Mother Time damnit all. How I wished that I could scream right now! Instead, I fell back, letting a persona take over, because I couldn’t handle this.

In essence, I was running away from the problem. In a lot of ways, it was what I did best.

“Thank you, *shukusen,”* Liyam said. “I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve finished.”

Then, he got up and marched out of the room, and I had to fight with him to get back into the primary person position. By the time I’d done that, I was outside, and shaking my head, I passed a hand over my face, all while composing a message.

*I’m sorry, Phen. That was rude,* I wrote. *You’re right. We should talk. How about after I get back?*

I was frozen in place until I received a reply.

*Sounds good,* it read.

I didn’t know what to make of that. Was he angry? Had I alienated my little brother even more than he already had been?

It wasn’t something I could change or deal with right now. Like I’d told him, I’d handle it once the mission was done. So, heaving a sigh, I stepped out into the cold, intent on finding my target.

# Chapter 5: Little Song

*Go slowly with this chapter, Elliot. Take breaks. Lots and lots of breaks. And don’t be afraid to put the recording down as soon as you need to.*

*In fact, why don’t you go get Edyth right now? The two of you should listen to this together, ok? I need you to have support for this one.*

It was getting dark by the time I picked up her trail.

I didn’t like this. With trees and the mountains and *so much fucking snow* all around me, this place reminded me of somewhere horrible. The place where I’d lost half of my home.

And it was letting the past keep smacking me in the face.

*Snow flies around me as I reach for him, knowing the entire time what’s happened. Denying it with everything I am.*

No, I wouldn’t let this happen again. I’d spent far too much time in those memories trapped in their—

*—freezing cold. Hell, he’s so cold, and so am I.*

I’d said no! Those memories had to stay buried, tucked away in the darkest parts of me. I refused to think about them or how they made me feel. I couldn’t become that men, not here, where I might accidentally bleed myself dry if I started cutting. My tried-and-true method of distracting myself from emotional pain with the physical. After all, everyone knew the first was worse than the second.

Or maybe that was just me. I certainly had the history needed to make that judgment call, perhaps more so than most other people I knew, and in my extensive experience, even the worst physical pain was nothing compared to—

*—this emptiness is going to kill me, even if that’s not the right word for what’s happening inside.*

*I look at his face, so slack and absent of him, and I can’t breathe. Somewhere deep in my heart and mind, someone’s screaming, so loud and yet muffled, and I know it’s me. It must be, but all I am is cold. Empty. Absent anything but the loss of him, and nothing else I’ve ever lived through, no wound or loved one’s death or defilement of the spark of my soul, can compare to this.*

*And I can’t live with it. How can I continue making the effort to breathe when every beat of my heart reminds me that his is…?*

*My eyes once more catch on the hole in his chest, and this intolerable life I’ve found myself in opens before me, a chasm as empty as I am and—*

—if I was going to stay here, in this moment, I had to put this away. I had to continue in this life, intolerable or not, and the knowledge of these emotions that I was always feeling made that impossible.

So, for the millionth time, I pushed them deep down, but every time I thought I’d won in this fight, something else came along to resurrect what I’d just killed. Every time, their recurrence felt exponentially worse.

Needless to say, I was an emotional wreck, the opposite of my typical internal freeze, when I finally, *finally,* caught a first glimpse of my target.

At first, she was just a blob in my array, a heat signature among the ice, and with purpose, I moved toward her as the source of heat and wrath that she'd become. An mental image of her cold corpse, another spike of revenge to chip away at my grief, was helping to hold the view of another, much-loved dead face at bay.

As expected from her, as the Vanisher she was, she was blipping around the surrounding area, never staying still for more than five minutes, but that was ok. I had hundreds of hunts for people like her under my belt. I knew how to predict her movement, and fortunately, we weren’t close enough to the Upheaval’s origin point for it to start messing with my tech. I could use my P.I.G. to get a bird’s eye view of everything within her magic’s range.

Besides, I doubted she’d detected me yet. These vanishings didn’t seem like someone trying to escape from me. They were more random, like a child frantically looking for somewhere safe in a dangerous situation. I refused to think about how accurate that comparison probably was.

Eventually, I got close enough for a confrontation, although I was careful with my approach. When fighting a mage, catching them by surprise was always best, especially if they were a Vanisher.

I also had to keep the setting sun in mind. There were already enough shadows on all sides to make me uneasy about confronting her. I couldn’t afford to do this any later, not with a Shade as my target, but I also couldn’t wait until morning to try capturing her. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could persist in this state of internal chaos without surrendering to a persona. It amazed me that I was even logical enough to plan this attack, although it probably helped that the tactics of it were serving as a giant mental defense right now. Best not to consider what I was defending against, not with the pressure of it…

Stop it. Focus on the mission. Only that.

Not the cold. Not the trees all around. Not the snow, threatening to bury me beneath it. Not the little girl, spinning toward me with a quiet yelp.

Oh, fuck. When had I gotten this close? Why was I moving toward my target with my feet crunching so loudly beneath me? I needed to be quiet, damnit! Catch her by surprise, although… I supposed the chance for that had passed.

My target’s mouth parted with something strange moving in her eyes.

“Zae-zae?” she softly whispered.

And I might have been more concerned about her anomalous reaction—

How did she know my name?

—if her bleached-white features hadn’t already placed a stranglehold on my thoughts. If I wasn’t already seeing red.

Something must have alerted my target to my focused fury because she took a step back, swallowing hard.

“Don’t you know me? “she said.

Something about this situation was familiar. Hadn’t a similarly strange interaction with an *ii* happened thirty odd years ago? What had the strange woman back then said?

What did it matter? The source of my wrath and the promise of revenge’s comforting relief was standing right in front of me.  
With a thought, my rifle was in my hand, and as I raised it, my target’s eyes went wide. She, predictably, vanished before I’d taken aim, but my array had already provided me with the direction she’d moved in, and I quickly followed. This hopping chase continued for far too long, well past the day’s eventual surrender to night, but I didn’t care. Something about it was keeping me here, keeping personas below the surface. It was the rush of blood in my veins. The air sharply drawn into overworked lungs. The adrenaline coursing through me.

The ability to fully feel a body I’d been dead inside for decades.

Eventually, though, I got the opportunity I needed. In a patch of brambles up ahead, the mage cried out, and I sprinted toward the sound, bursting through thorns and branches toward an indentation of them in front of me. Right as I reached the spot, clouds moved away from the moon, letting that spatial body’s soft light splash down on us, and I might have been thankful for that and the subsequent, forced reappearance of my target except…

Except…

That was a child, staring up at me with wide, glistening eyes. My hands closed around that little one’s throat, and with how faint the illumination around us was, I couldn’t fully see her features, but even still, I wasn’t about to strangle a mage.

This was a child.

A child, maybe five-years-old. An age long before I’d ever become what I was.

And-

And-

A girl’s features morphed into someone utterly familiar. All the while, something deep in my mind wrenched, letting a piece of the past come blazing through.

*I’m cold and tired, and it’s dark outside. So dark.*

*And I don’t know where I am.*

*I’m lost. Alone. Tired.*

*No one’s coming for me. Why would they? Feena’s in lesson rotation right now. Mom and dad aren’t home again, and Pheniks is probably still crying his eyes out back home.*

*I shouldn’t have yelled at him or pushed him earlier, but I’m so tired and afraid that I can’t keep him safe. Without Feena around to help, we’re hungry all the time. I keep forgetting how to start the refectory, and he’s too young to know how to do it.*

*Sometimes, we eat straight from the refectory’s nutrient supply, but that usually makes our parents sad. They send us to our rooms to think about what we did, and I don’t like being alone in there.*

*If I’m alone, monsters might come. They might get me, and I don’t want to die. It’s scary to think about.*

*So, Pheniks asked me for lunch, nagging me until I shoved him and ran away. I didn’t stop running, and now, I’m lost, and it’s dark and getting cold, and I don’t know where I am!*

*There are trees all around me, which is scary. I’m used to plains everywhere and seeing for as far as I want, but there are shadows here. There are dark places and weird noises, and I keep seeing monsters between the leaves.*

*I just want to go home. Pheniks might be mad and hungry there, and our parents might keep me in my room for a week after this, but it has to be better than being alone and in the dark.*

*Surrounded by monsters.*

*Shaking all over, I hurry to a big tree and put my back to it. For hours, I crouch there, watching the dark. Waiting for someone to come rescue me.*

*But no one does.*

*I am alone and scared and in the dark, hiding from the- the monsters.*

Coughing, I stumbled away from my target, rapidly shaking my head. What- what had that been? I didn’t remember anything like that ever happening to me, and yet, I also apparently did.

Because if I looked for the memory in my array, there it clearly sat, blatantly daring me to access it, and *fuck.*

What the hell was…?

No. No! More importantly, if that memory was real…

And it had to be, even if my array was lying. I vaguely remembered my parents being absent while I was growing up, until I’d turned eighteen or so at least, but it had never- never been that extreme. Or I hadn’t thought it had been, at least.

But like I’d *just been thinking,* more importantly! What monster had I been so afraid of back then? I somehow knew that they hadn’t been something imagined, like what children sometimes did, but- but…

Fuck! My mind was whirling so badly, stuck in that moment of terror and loneliness, and *I needed something to center me.* To get me focused on the here and now, no matter how much my own damn brain apparently didn’t want that…

“Zae-zae, remember what I said,” a small voice whispered somewhere nearby. “We were all once frightened children, shivering in the dark. We’ve all hidden from the monster that’s come to kill us. All of us, Zae-zae. Even you. Even me.”

Even… her?

Slowly blinking, I took in a forest, dark and snowy like so many other horrible ones in the past, and a little girl, trapped in its brambles, and all the while, I considered what she’d said. I’d heard those words before. Where had I heard them? It had been before House Cerullis’ dissolution, I thought. Before Damari’s death and in the strange place that the Chosen called home.

I’d met a woman there. A mage who’d claimed Earthshaker, Vanisher, Vimian, and Shade magic. Just like this girl. Was she…?

No. That- that couldn’t be possible. Could it?

“Sol?” I quietly asked.

And the little girl smiled, just like the grown woman from years ago, before vanishing.

Damnit. She was a mage, and more importantly, *my fucking target.* I couldn’t let her get away like this.

So, I frantically assessed my array’s provided information on which direction she’d taken with her vanishing, only to be given… nothing. In the last five minutes, my target hadn’t used any magic, which wasn’t possible because she wasn’t here.

Growling, I picked my way out of the brambles, plucking thorns out of my clothes once I was free, and considered what to do next. If I couldn’t find the girl, I’d have to go back to Talira and Pheniks empty-handed but-

Like a sudden sunrise, a flare, indicating magic usage, bloomed in my array, but this wasn’t a subtle signal. It was blinding, and shooting my hands in front of my face, I skipped backward, hoping beyond hope that I’d survive whatever magic my little-girl target had used.

I was alerted to how serious the situation was before my vision cleared. In the forest’s deep silence, I could hear someone’s pained gasping as well as the patter of liquid to the ground. Considering I was feeling no pain and no alerts had popped into my array, I wasn’t the one hurt, but still, something about what I was hearing raised my long-defunct survival instincts.

Even with the audible warning, though, I was unprepared for what I saw when my array’s flare faded

My target… Sol was standing in a clearly illuminated patch of the forest, but almost as soon as I’d registered her features, she was reaching to steady the man who’d dropped to his knees beside her. It looked so wrong, that little girl fighting to keep a grown-ass adult from toppling, but it was nowhere near as disturbing as… as him.

He was curled over on himself, clutching his stomach, but the red-stained hand that I found found there was quickly lifted to clutch at Sol, which made sense. The man was using his other hand to keep a deeply embedded arrow shaft in his neck. Blood was oozing from between his fingers, flowing quickly enough that I knew he had maybe a couple of minutes left, even if he had an array, and as his wheezing gasps filled the silence, my heart climbed to a steady perch in my throat.

Then, he lifted his face to me, and if I hadn’t been so completely paralyzed by the sight of it, I’d be throwing up instead.

Something had laid his face open, exposing bone and teeth and all sorts of body cavities that should never meet the air through his once attractive features, but that wasn’t what had me taking slow steps back, lifting my hands to ward off what I was seeing.

No, that was happening because this man, the one who was clearly dying? He was me.

“Hell, I forgot how unnerving this was,” the man… *I* said.

But the words had emerged garbled from him, barely understandable, and groaning, the- the other me swayed in place, nearly toppling Sol.

“Gotta hurry,” he said before meeting my eyes. “I know this is hard, and I’m sorry. Really, I… am.”

Pausing, he took a couple more gasping breaths, pressing his hand more firmly around the arrow.

“But you have to listen to me. To her,” he continued in a ruse. *“Please.* If you don’t, everything we've ever done will have been for nothing. Everything... and Elliot-"

A cough interrupted him, sending blood spurting out of distinctly not-good places.

“Just listen. For now, that’s all you have to do,” he said, “and-”

A greater pain that everything else he must be feeling had his face screwing up, and he slammed his eyes closed.

“And know that Ko would have wanted this,” he hissed.

Something absolutely horrid jolted through me at those words, setting my already addled mind adrift, so I barely took notice when the other me turned to the child in our midst.

“Little song,” he gasped. “Please. May I die now?”

With a sob, Sol rested a hand against the other me’s ruined face, kissing his forehead.

Once she’d pulled away, she solemnly said, “Yes, my most devoted warrior. You can rest.”

With a long sigh, the other me slumped before yanking on the arrow in his neck, and before I could rush forward, desperate to help, both he and Sol disappeared.

And I stopped short. And for the longest ten seconds of my life, I simply stared.

When another flare blinded me, it came as a relief, and as my vision cleared, I wasn’t at all surprised to see an older version of Sol, the one I’d met years ago, standing in the blood-soaked snow. She said nothing, merely folding her hands in front of her, and when it seemed feasibly possible, I cleared my throat.

“Did I…?”

Hell. Never thought I’d be saying something as impossible as this but-

“Did I just die?” I hoarsely asked.

In answer, Sol lifted a hand toward me.

“Come with me,” she said. “I’ll explain everything.”

I shouldn’t do as she’d said. I should *get the fuck* out of this dangerous place, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Maybe a thirst for answers was keeping me firmly pinned in place. Maybe it was everything in me that wanted to die, finding relief in what I’d just seen, despite the shock. Despite the fear.

Maybe it was what the other me had said about Korix. I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was that I took Sol’s hand, and as soon as our skin made contact, the world *twisted* around me.

# Chapter 6: Learning My Fate

Because I’d been a passenger of a Vanisher’s magic before, I was prepared for the change in scenery once the world had resettled around me, but I still stumbled a step, leaning on my knees to catch my breath. Vanisher *liiaresim* wasn’t like the molecular transport of going through the Terminal. During it, you weren’t broken down into your subsequent atoms. Instead, the world broke around you. To an outside observer, this might seem like a minor differentiation, but to the one involved in the Vanishing, it could be disorienting, no matter how well-prepared for it you were.

Add to that what Sol and I had just left in the woods and well… I thought it made perfect sense that I was desperately looking for a chair or somewhere else to sit. Fortunately, I quickly found a stool, even if it was a little wobbly and starting to rot.

Once my spat of dizziness had passed, I glanced around, curious where Sol had taken us. The building around us was strange. Not only did its architecture fail to match anything I’d seen before, landing somewhere between Ibisian and Lutovish design, but I could see evidence of neglect everywhere. There was a layer of dust throughout the place, caked onto every surface, and one of the walls had partially collapsed, exposing us to the outside air.

Considering how grimy the other walls’ windows were, I was grateful for the building’s state of disrepair. The hole in it let me see the dense fog swirling in the street outside as well as the vast lake on the other side of it. At least, I assumed it was a lake. I could see waves on it, but they weren’t nearly as tall as the ones found on the sea.

“Where are we?” I eventually asked.

Because I had no fucking clue where that might be, and my array wasn’t pinpointing my location. In fact, it was acting rather sluggish, barely responding to any of my requests, which was concerning.

Why had I followed this strange mage again?

“This is Amriav, not that I expect you to recognize that name,” Sol said. “Several centuries ago, this is where scientists from both sides of the water came together to combine matter and spirit, creating the first of my kind as a result.”

She expectantly looked at me, and… wait. I knew this story.

“You’re talking about the experiment that caused the Upheaval,” I said. “We’re near that anomaly’s origin point?”

That would explain why my array was misbehaving and why I didn’t recognize anything around me.

When Sol nodded, I swallowed, slowly scanning my surroundings once more. Besides the occasional *ii,* no one had tried to breach the mist that surrounded this place in centuries, since shortly after the Upheaval, actually. That low-hanging cloud, covering most of west Ostiu, had a propensity for eating anyone who entered it, and of the people who’d managed to escape it, not many had been very cognizant after reaching safety. In fact, they usually found a way to join the Collective soon after their rescue, to most people’s dismay.

Death might be a choice, but when someone killed themselves in the grip of such panic, it made the average person fairly uneasy.

Even if I were to dismiss the mist, slowly undulating outside, as a threat, though, I’d still have to contend with my proximity to the site of the damn Upheaval, a place and phenomenon that no one in Lutov, scientist or otherwise, had ever been able to explain.

As one might expect, I didn’t like this. Back in the day, the creation of the Upheaval’s origin site was what had torn Lutov and Ibis apart! In essence, what I was sitting so close to had led to the two landmasses’ current circumstances, which was just…

As if moving through sap, I rubbed my hands together, trying to hide how much they were trembling.

“Why are we here?” I asked.

“For two reasons,” Sol said. “First, I wanted to make sure this conversation wasn’t overheard. Considering how isolated this place is and how much it messes with tech, including your people’s arrays, it seemed like the best place for that.”

When Sol paused, I nodded.

“Makes sense,” I shakily said.

She wanted isolation. That could be dangerous. Again. Why the hell had I followed this mage out here?

“And the second reason?”

Making a face, Sol said, “That’s more complicated. Suffice it to say that not only is this place the most comfortable one in the world for me, but how close I am to it correlates to how long I can maintain my hold on this time period.”

For a moment, I merely blinked at her, blankly staring.

“What?” I somehow made myself say.

Which only made Sol sigh.

“Look, you know the thing that you lot call ‘the Upheaval’s origin point’? It’s actually a hole in our world’s reality, one that reaches down to the layer where Mother Time resides,” she said, “and yes, I know that’s only confused you more. I’ll answer any other questions you might have about it in a moment, but first, I need to grab a few things. You can chew on everything I’ve already given you while I do that.”

But I didn’t want to think about any of it yet! If I did, I’d- I’d-

Before I could raise a protest, Sol had vanished, and I fell onto my hands, propped on my thighs. Oh, my head hurt right now. I could swear someone was pounding on the inside of it while a distinctly unpleasant sense of pressure had been growing behind my right eye since… since I’d remembered that thing I’d remembered.

So much had happened in the last twenty minutes. Too much!

And I couldn’t afford to slow down now. If I did, I’d have to consider… what I’d seen. What I’d remembered. And everything it meant for me.

I didn’t want to do that yet. I needed some sort of explanation before I could even begin to contemplate it.

Fortunately, Sol popped back into existence before I could get too lost in my head. Briskly, she threw the blanket she’d been holding over my shoulders before resting a music player on a filthy counter. While it started playing one of my favorite Maliva compositions, Sol did another vanishing act, and when she returned, she shoved a steaming cup of… of… was this Ostium tea?

She gave me a mug of tea and a pastry, one of the cinnamon knot breads that could only be found in Ostiu. Two of my favorite foods.

…How had she known about that?

Lifting my hand for me, Sol made me tap the pastry against my closed lips.

“Eat,” she said. “You’ve experienced just about the most traumatic shock that any human can have. We need to get you truly calm, not this false veneer of it, before we can have another stressful conversation. While that’s happening, you can ask me anything you want to about the Upheaval, but everything else is off-limits until I say so.”

She had a point. Grudgingly, I tore off a chunk of the cinnamon knot bread, glaring all the while, and Sol chuckled.

“Well?” she said.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I said around my mouthful. “Maybe… Mother Time? What did you mean by that?”

For a split second, Sol went very still, but before I could analyze what that might mean, she broke into a grin.

“I’m not sure why you’re asking about her,” she said. “From what I understand, you Lutovish practically worship her. Or maybe you just curse her name. I can never keep those two straight.”

And I nearly choked on my food.

After a moment of coughing, I sputtered, “She’s real?”

Again, Sol froze, which really should bother-

“In a way,” she said before I could finish that thought. “It’s more that in our reality, we gave time a physical manifestation, what with our experimentation on spirit and matter. From what I understand, time shouldn’t have consciousness, or it didn’t before the Upheaval, but here and now…”

Breaking off, she clicked her tongue, as if frustrated with her explanation, while I stared.

“The Upheaval made the construct of time into a person,” I dully said. “That’s what you’re saying.”

“Among other things, yes!” Sol chirped. “But don’t worry. Outside of this specific place, she can’t alter things. That’s why I can be here right now, though, or at least, it’s why I can be here as I currently am.”

That change of subject had probably been a distraction but…

“You mean as an adult?” I said. “A long time ago, Feena mentioned that the appearance of a time traveling mage founded the Chosen. Was that you?”

Softly smiling, Sol said, “You always were a clever one. And yes.”

Hmm. I let that sit for a few minutes, absently chewing on my food, but once I was done contemplating, I shoved a finger toward Sol.

“So… explain that,” I said. “What’s time travel like? Is it uncontrolled jumping around in the time stream or…?”

“Yes, I can move around in the stream of time, although it’s certainly not uncontrolled,” Sol said. “It does take a lot out of me, though, especially when I’m younger.”

When she was younger? I didn’t even bother with voicing that question, simply gesturing for her to continue, and with a heavy sigh, Sol crossed her arms.

“This part is hard for me to understand, so I’m not very good at explaining it,” she said, “but I’ll certainly try.”

She crouched in the dust, casually brushing her fingers through it.

“At some point when I was very young, I had a… brush with time, we’ll call it,” she said. “I don’t know exactly how or why or even when this happened—besides it possibly being part of a *davashri* Zan experiment—but whenever or however it happened, I saw all of my life at once. Every bit of it along the many time periods I would eventually influence, and once it was over, the experience stayed with me. In a way, it changed my consciousness, even if I wasn’t aware of that until my body got older."

“In essence? When it comes to my sense of time, my mind and body are quite literally disconnected, although saying it like that isn’t quite right. It’s like my consciousness is contained somewhere else, on another plane of reality. So sometimes, my mind as an adult is trapped in my body as a child and vice versa, even if that’s not always the case."

“Combined with my ability to walk through time and my continued awareness of my lifetime—past, present, and future—I’ve had what I presume is a strange life experience, even if I have nothing to compare it to.”

Hell, she was looking at me with such yearning on her face, obviously hoping for something specific from me, but I didn’t know what that could be or even how to respond.

“…Interesting,” was what I eventually settled on.

Snorting, Sol rose from her crouch, and wandering to a corner, she faced away from me. Apparently, that hadn’t been what she’d wanted from me.

“You could say that, yes,” she said.

Having no other words, I let the music floating between us ease the tension in the air, all while finishing my tea and bread, and the entire time, I was working through everything Sol had said. By the time I’d licked the last crumb off of my fingers, I knew where we should go next.

“So, basically, you’re a ridiculously powerful mage who has a better view of the future than any other human could hope for,” I said. “Given that, why are you talking to me?”

Much as I’d like to, I wouldn’t try to claim I was insignificant or a nobody. With my position in Lutovish society and a long trail of other people’s comments on my worth following me, doing something like that seemed silly. Like I was denying something obvious, and I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time with such a thing. Not when it came to this, at least.

Still, I vainly hoped that Sol would turn around and laugh, telling me she’d only needed a conversation partner or something equally as easy. I very much did not want to know why she’d shown me that dying version of myself. Even if it was also what I badly needed.

“You sound more centered,” Sol said. “That’s good. Maybe we can truly begin now.”

Taking a deep breath, she faced me.

“Which truth would you rather hear first?” she said. “The one you already know and can’t bring yourself to admit? Or what she brought you soon thereafter?”

*Two* truths?

Licking my lips, I said, “How do you know about… that first thing?”

Sol looked down her nose at me.

“Zae-zae. I’m a time traveler. How do you think I know?” she said, rolling her eyes. “You told me about it when I was younger, of course.”

“Oh,” I said.

That made a weird amount of sense, I supposed.

When I failed to continue, Sol gently said, “And I think you might be trying to avoid a difficult topic. Don’t you agree?”

Wincing, I nodded and scrubbed my face. Which of the exceedingly painful subjects that she’d mentioned did I want to discuss first? The one centered on my origins or the one about my end?

“The- the first, I guess. What I remembered,” I said. “Please. Make me acknowledge what I already know.”

“All right.”

With her hands on her hips, Sol hung her head before meeting my eyes through the fringe of her hair.

“Zaeden, you had a horrible childhood, and you don’t remember most of it. Your array may have kept a record of it for you, but *you* don’t remember it,” she said. “I don’t know much about what happened to you, but what I do know is… enough, to put it lightly."

“And I won’t tell you any of the details that I do know. Learning about them, if that’s what you want to do, is up to you, something you should take at your own pace if you choose to confront it."

“But you do need to accept this fact right now. You need to understand that when you created your first persona so many years ago, it wasn’t done solely as an attempt at gaining freedom from the Lutovish House system. You were trying to escape from your life and every awful thing you were living through."

“In the end, that desperate attempt kept you alive. Your personas have been saving your life since you were at least six, and they were doing it for a whole hell of a lot more than deep-cover missions alone. They have shaped your life just as much as Korix or Leski or Baely have. Just as much as your childhood did."

“Hear this, Zaeden of no House, and accept your life’s truth now. No more denying it. No more avoidance.”

*No more avoidance,* she said. Just like my hallucination of Damari had, decades ago. Did either of them understand how impossible their demand seemed?

“I’ll… try,” I croaked.

And wondered why my mouth had gone so dry.

“I can’t guarantee that doubt won’t creep up on me sometimes, even with the blatant evidence of this truth that I’ve always had, and I most certainly won’t break a centuries-long formed habit overnight,” I continued, “but I will do my best to accept my life as it is, without sugarcoating or denying it.”

And… if Sol was right about my personas’ purpose in my life, maybe I should be less annoyed about how out of control they’d gotten lately. Maybe…

And this felt super weird to be considering for a mental construct, but maybe…

Maybe I should thank them.

Hell if I knew how to do that, though. It was something I’d have to consider for a while. Not right now, though.

The blanket over my shoulders tightened around me, and with a gasp, I flinched away from Sol, who was suddenly in my face.

Grimacing, she said, “Sorry. You were crying. I was trying to help.”

Numbly, I reached up to pat the skin under my eyes, and my fingers came away wet. When had that started happening?

Sighing, I dried my eyes, fighting to shake off what had just happened. I wasn’t brushing it under the rug again! It was more… I was getting re-centered.

Because Sol was far from done with me.

“Thank you,” I told her, genuinely meaning it. “As painful as that was, I badly needed to hear what you said. So, truly. You have my thanks.”

Squeezing my knee, Sol said, “You’re welcome. And like you said, that must have been painful. If you’d like, you can take a moment before we continue-”

“No!”

Roughly, I took my head.

“I may need to stop avoiding certain things, but it and other coping mechanisms have kept me alive *and sane* over the years, especially when something’s about to hurt me, and whatever you’re about to say might be necessary, but I know it’ll also hurt,” I said. “So, don’t give me time to process right now. Let me compartmentalize everything, and once I’m somewhere much safer than this damn place—”

I waved at the building and mist around us.

“—I will truly think about what you’ve shared. But don’t give me that chance now. Tell me everything.”

For a moment, Sol doubtfully eyed me, but apparently, she saw how much I needed her to do as I’d asked.

Nodding, she said, “I can do that. So. The next bit is about what- what my child-self brought you in the woods. I’m so sorry-”

I couldn’t handle her apology on top of everything else.

“You showed me an older version of myself. Presumably, it was me right before I die,” I interrupted. “So, tell me. How will that happen?”

From what I’d seen, it would be painful, but maybe, if I knew what had happened to the other me, I could figure out how to prevent-

“You can’t stop this, Zae-zae. I wish it were otherwise, but I truly cannot let you do that.”

Her words jolted me out of my thoughts, and judging by how stiff she’d gone, she must have picked up on the threat of violence I’d become. After all, she’d basically said that she’d see me dead, if she could help it.

“You’d better explain that,” I said in a clipped tone. “Quickly, if you want this to stay pleasant.”

With a sharp nod, Sol said, “Of course. Simply put, if we’re to save the world, your death is necessary.”

She paused for a moment, as if to assess my reaction, before forging onward.

“Can I more fully explain that without you wanting to kill me?”

My lips were tight as I said.

“You’d better.”

“Ok.”

Sol plopped to the ground.

“I’ll give you more details about this at a later date, and you’re welcome to ask any questions you might have about it now,” she said, “but first, I must tell you a story of the future, one I’ve pieced together after placing the events of my multiple-time-period life in order. Here is what I know about your part in it."

“In six years, a rebellion will begin in the nation of Crinas, built on the bones of a revolt that began four years before that. Unlike the other rebellions that have come before it, this one will be vastly different for three reasons."

“First and foremost, it will be successful. After so many years of suffering and struggle, Ibis will finally be free of Lutov. This will be possible, in part, because it will be led by what your people call the five saviors.”

She looked to me for a response, and I had to clear my throat, already sent reeling by what she’d claimed. Ibis, free of Lutov? The thought of it spawned so many emotions in me, most of them good—

Mother Time, how I’d always longed for it, always secretly… identifying with the children of Ibis, which was just horrible. And selfish. Ugh…

—but some of those emotions were less nice.

“You’re talking about that children’s story, right?” I said. “The one about the negotiator-”

“Who is Edyth Bexley, of Crinas,” Sol interrupted. “Right now, she’s seventeen and still mourning the loss of her father, sent to war years ago. She has no idea that he’s still alive, waiting for her in Ostiu.”

After a moment of blank blinking, I filed those facts away for later use.

“The warmaster,” I cautiously said.

And Sol obligingly said, “Victor Rothschild, also of Crinas. Twenty-six. Currently, he’s the unthinking instrument of King Wilfred, although that will soon change. In fact, this shift will happen when he starts the revolt that will spark Ibis’ final rebellion. When you two eventually meet, he’ll be a thorn in your side for years.”

Good to know.

“The legislator,” I said.

“Dorian Danvers, of Escad. By far the youngest of them, at thirteen,” Sol said. “Not much to say about his current life but trust me. He’ll start kicking up dust soon, right after he meets the niece of Escad’s king.”

Wow. These people’s lives were already complicated, and they were supposed to lead a rebellion?

“The spymistress?” I said with an eye half-closed.

Given what had already been revealed, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear more.

“Beatrice Rowe, of Acrar. Currently fourteen,” Sol said. “That one’s a complicated mess of a woman. Her parents abandoned her to the leader of Acrar’s resistance when she was young, and that man is unabashedly an abusive asshole so…”

Complicated. Yeah, I could see why that might be the case.

“But the most important of the five for you is the last one,” Sol continued. “The inventor.”

When I raised my eyebrows, she mischievously grinned at me.

“Elliot Lockhart, of Flosari. Fifteen right now,” she said. “Has a job in Flosa’s Travel Center, where he’ll soon start picking apart that place’s beacons. More like you, mentally, than you’ll ever truly appreciate, and quoting from you several years from now, ‘One of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon.’ End quote.”

…What?

At my befuddled expression, Sol laughed, flapping a hand at me.

“Don’t try to process that now. It’ll only make your head hurt,” she said. “Instead, let’s return to the point.”

Everything she’d said was only making the pounding in my head worse but…

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The third reason this rebellion will succeed,” Sol said before turning deadly serious. “In fact, this last reason is essential if Ibis is ever going to be free. The five saviors are strong, the same as all children of Ibis, but they’re still lacking the last piece they need to tip the balance.”

Pausing, Sol leaned forward, as if expecting me to know what she was implying, but I was still stuck in the revelation of the legendary five saviors’ identities. After a moment, I prompted her for more information, the only thing I was capable of right now.

“Which is?”

Sol’s face fell, but she answered me regardless.

“They need an inside man,” Sol said. “After so many centuries spent putting them down, you’ll finally be able to aid one of Ibis’ rebellions, Zaeden.”

For a moment, my thoughts stuttered on themselves, continually circling one question. Had she really just said that?

“I’m sorry. Back up a second,” I slowly said. “Like you said, I’ve been putting down revolts for years, all because I thought I couldn’t choose otherwise. Any means of help that I could offer Ibis would never be enough to change things, and I wasn’t about to get myself killed or hurt my loved ones by helping a lost cause. How on earth would that be any different with this rebellion?”

Folding her hands together, Sol said, “For starters, you resolved to stop using excuses like that after Cerullis’ dissolution. They can’t hold you back anymore. Plus, be honest, Zae-zae. Any lingering need you once had to protect either yourself or your loved ones died years ago, with Korix.”

And I was on my feet, barely stopping myself from punching a knife through Sol’s face.

“Don’t you *dare* bring him into this,” I said.

If my voice had been ice there, Sol didn’t flinch from it.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true,” she said, “and you know it. Everything changed once he left you behind.”

Oh… I was going to fly apart. This was officially too much.

What had happened in the woods… What Sol had shared… I couldn’t handle it, and as if in response, my brain started automatically pulling me back into it. I could feel a persona switching places with me in my head, and only Sol’s hand in mine—*like Korix used to do*—stopped that from happening.

“Sit down, Zae-zae,” she softly said. “Breathe.”

As ordered, I collapsed in my chair, forcing air into my lungs.

When I could, I said, “Just get it over with. Finish the story so I know my role in it.”

Grimly nodding, Sol pulled her hands back into her lap.

“The five saviors will start a rebellion in Ibis, and for the first year and a half of it, you will keep them safe from every subtle plot that Lutov throws at them, all while pretending to stay loyal to the *Lokke Vitras* role,” she said. “Once they’ve established a safe haven for themselves, Elliot will go to Ostiu, and there, you will betray him, even as it tears your spark of a soul in two. Because of that betrayal, though, he will learn how to fight the *iisen,* knowledge that the saviors will need to win their war."

“Once he has that knowledge, his metamorphosis will come. The mages will transform him in a crucible of torture—physical, psychological, and spiritual—and you will be left to pick up the pieces, which you will do well. Your experiences with Korix will allow nothing less. Lastly, right as he’s begun to heal, you will die, leaving him as bereft and vulnerable as I will need him to be, and as a secondary consequence, you will irrevocably change the warmaster in the process."

“There’s more to it than that, of course, and over the next few months, I’ll tell you everything else you’ll need to know, but that’s a high-level explanation of what I expect from you."

“As for your next question, you will do all of these horrible things for two reasons. Because of your impact on Elliot as well as everything else he will endure, he will become the *xeecaz,* the destroyer of all mages. Through your impact, you will start the warmaster on the path of peace, saving the revolutionary in the process, and because of these two shifts in their character, we will eventually gain the one weapon we need to save the world from fiery destruction."

“We will gain August, the most powerful mage who’s ever lived and a better servant of Mother Time than I will ever be.”

Finally, this impossible woman stopped beating me over the head with her truths and…

My head was so… *loud,* and I was most definitely in shock, but- but-

…had to stay *here*. I had to stay here and listen to this woman because the other me had said I should. Because Korix would have wanted it.

Because I was on my last leg right now, so close to voluntarily joining the Collective that it scared me.

Because I’d always wanted to see Ibis free of Lutov, even if I never, in a million years, thought it was possible.

Because I *had* to get out. I had to escape the role of the *Lokke Vitras.* I had to use everything I’d learned to help people, for fucking once, instead of harming.

Because Sol was, in a very tangential way, offering me a chance at my own freedom, that effervescent concept I’d spent my whole life seeking.

I had to stay here, even if I wasn’t sure about the necessity of what Sol was saying. Even if I didn’t know what this ‘fiery destruction’ she was talking about could be.

I had to stay.

But I also had to know exactly what… or who, I supposed, I’d be giving my life for.

“Ok. Let’s say I’m willing to go along with this *for now,”* I said. “I want one thing from you. Right now.”

Something soft and infinitely sad came to light behind Sol’s eyes.

“You want to meet him?” she quietly asked.

Nodding, I said, “Him, as the man he’ll become. You can do that, right? With how you brought the other me here, I just assumed…”

“Yes, I can take you to him, exactly when you need to see him. When both of you do, actually,” Sol said. “I should warn you, though. This meeting won’t exactly be… pleasant.”

Without thinking too hard about that, I stuck my hand out.

“Just do it,” I said.

Sighing, Sol slumped for a heartbeat, but then, she was on her feet, taking my hand.

“All right, Zae-zae,” she said. “One trip through time, as requested.”

Oh… shit. I hadn’t thought about what meeting Elliot would entail. As if reading my thoughts, Sol squeezed my hand with a wry grin.

“Hold your breath,” she said.

And we were gone.

# Chapter 7: A First Encounter and a Reunion

*Hi, love. I know I’m interrupting again, but I feel that this chapter might need an explanation and a warning before we get into it.*

*First of all, yes. What I’ll be describing here is a piece of your future. I’ve been hesitant to include it in this narrative because I thought doing so might change things in some way. From what Sol has told me, though, you won’t be… stable by the time you reach this point in my story. She says that including my perspective on what was, to me, our first meeting will bring you some measure of comfort, but unfortunately, your grasp of time at the point when you listen to this chapter will be… fragile.*

*I’m not trying to shame you by saying that, love. Please know that. By now, I think you might see why I was able to so fully help you after… Kalaski. I understood what you were going through then and now more than you could know because I struggled with similar things throughout my life.*

*But anyway, that’s why I’m including the contents of this chapter. Sol has told me it’s safe. As you listen to this, however, please try to remember where I was coming from at this point in my life. I DID NOT know you, and I am SORRY for how distantly I acted during a moment when you needed me to be so much more. I hope that in some way, reading this will soften the blow of that when you eventually reach this point in your own timeline.*

*Even still, I must advise you to proceed with caution. I believe you’re strong enough to hear this and that it will bring you comfort, but given how often I’ve been wrong about things like this in the past…*

*Well. I’ll just leave it up to you.*

I won’t even try to describe my trip through time. Some experiences were outside of language’s capacity to convey, and this was definitely one of them. All I will say is that it was long and also a weirdly exhilarating and yet, terrible trip.

When it eventually ended, I performed a repeat of my behavior from the hour before: scanning my surroundings. This time, there was no building around me and Sol, just the fringe of a scraggly forest in front of us and a dusty road leading into the distance on either side. Out of habit, I checked the date and my location, and my array politely informed me that not only was I almost a decade ahead of when I should be but I was also on the other side of the continent, near the border between Escad and Acrar.

“I can’t keep us here for long,” Sol said.

I thought that had been directed at me until I noted that her gaze was pinned on something directly ahead of us. When following the line of her gaze, I found myself staring at a man, firmly secured to the base of a tree. Despite his restrained state, he didn’t look uncomfortable or in too much distress, even if tears were filling his eyes, but in the gloom of night, it was hard to make anything else out.

“Zae?” he cautiously whispered. “Are you… are you real?”

And I frowned. He already knew me? When I glanced at Sol, she nodded.

“This is Elliot,” she said. “Elliot, the Zaeden you’re seeing has never met you. He’s from years ago, and I’m sorry about that. I know this isn’t the most ideal way for you to try and find closure, but it truly is the best I could do. And again, we don’t have much time.”

I was so lost, but apparently, the stranger… Elliot had followed what Sol had said. His face set into grim lines as he sharply jerked his head in a nod.

“I understand,” he said. “Thank you, Sol. Would you…?”

“Give you a minute?” Sol said. “Of course.”

She vanished, leaving me alone with a tied-up stranger in a future I still wasn’t sure existed. For a couple of seconds, Elliot merely stared at me, running his eyes over my body.

“I never thought…” he started before shaking his head. “Would you come closer? Please. I know you probably don’t trust me, but I would never hurt you, Zae. I couldn’t. Plus, I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

He shrugged against the ropes holding him to a tree, which… why was he restrained like that? Whatever those reasons were, his relative helplessness broke me free of what had rooted me to the ground, and I edged toward him, as requested.

I froze when I noticed the body lying beside him, but when he saw me stop, Elliot merely chuckled.

“Don’t worry. V’s sound asleep,” he said. “We’ve had a rough week with little rest, so I doubt you could wake him up, even if you weren’t in mission mode as you are.”

…He knew about mission mode.

“Please, Zae,” Elliot said, patting the ground beside him. “I promise I won’t bite. This time.”

He flashed oh-so-white teeth at me, apparently enjoying some private joke, but I couldn’t analyze what that meant right now. Damn. He’d been right. I was in mission mode. When had that happened?

When I sat down, Elliot stretched his fingers to where they were brushing against mine, and frowning, I glanced between our hands and his face.

Wryly smiling, he said, “Sorry. Had to make sure you were real and not- not another hallucination. Those have been happening so much lately.”

With a sharply indrawn breath, he slammed his eyes closed, curling his fingers into his palms, and it didn’t matter that I didn’t know this man. I knew his distress all too well, both for myself and for Korix… when he’d been alive.

Gently, I touched his shoulder.

“I’m real,” I said. “I’m actually here.”

And with his breath momentarily hitching, Elliot started sobbing. I glanced at the other man, sleeping nearby, but Elliot had been right. The stranger never stopped snoring.

“I… I am so sorry, Zae,” Elliot gasped. “I know this isn’t a good first impression, but I’ve missed you so damn much. *Avan*. I thought it was going to kill me.”

With a nervous giggle, he met my gaze while wiping his eyes on his shoulder.

“So, we were… or will be close?” I said.

Hell, this time gap was already making the conversation confusing.

Snorting, Elliot said, “Close doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Ok. That was good to know, if also vague.

“Look. I know you’re probably feeling unsure of yourself and me. Awkward as hell, basically, and I know that tends to make you close off, *which is fine,”* Elliot continued, rushing through those last few words, “but I… I badly need to say some things, ok? It’s been destroying me, knowing I’d never get the chance. So, please. Can you let me have that?”

Feeling *awkward?* He thought he knew me, did he?

“I don’t see how that could be a problem,” I said. “I’m just here to meet the man I’m apparently dying for, after all.”

As Elliot’s face went slack with the life leaving his eyes, I winced. Yeah… I could have phrased that better.

Then, Elliot snarled at me.

“Yes, let’s talk about that, shall we?” he growled. “What were you thinking, Zae? I fought so damn hard to keep you safe for those last few months, and you just waltzed right into the middle of a *fucking battlefield,* despite everything I’d said and without your damn array. I know you have a giant death wish, but *avan,* fucking damnit, Zae! You intentionally got yourself killed, left me when I fucking needed you, and never even said goodbye! Not properly at least. Just… what the hell?”

So, whatever else this man might be to me, my death had upset him. Greatly, in fact. I’d better calm him down.

“In answer, I’d say that I don’t know why I did those things, not at the moment at least,” I said, half-smiling. “Sol mentioned something about saving the world, which honestly? That doesn’t affect me much. I’ve ‘saved the world’, or at least, done so for Lutov, a few times now. The idea has lost its appeal. But…”

Pausing, I looked away. I wasn’t sure if I should say this. If I did, it would reveal a vulnerability to a man I barely knew.

Given how he was acting, though, that wouldn’t always be the case. So, why not tell him, especially if it might, as Sol put it, give him closure?

“But that terrifying mage also said that everything I do in your rebellion, including dying for it, is needed if Ibis is to be free from my homeland,” I said before meeting Elliot’s gaze. “I badly want that to happen. It’s a desire I’ve always had, one so deadly for me that I’ve only recently been able to acknowledge it, and I think-”

Sighing, I passed a hand over my face.

“I think in some horrible way, helping you free Ibis will be my futile attempt at freeing myself too. Freeing myself from the House system. From my long and sordid past. From whatever horrible things happened to me as a child to give me this unreasoning need for freedom.”

Oh… fuck. I- I got it now. I understood why that other me had been so desperate for me to listen to Sol.

Numbly, I said, “In almost every way, doing everything I must to help you free Ibis will be the culmination of my life’s work. Every struggle and all of my chaos can find its resolution in your fight, and I- I absolutely need that, Elliot. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but whatever is asked of me on this quest, I have to do it.”

Even if it meant dying as a result.

“Oh, no,” Elliot whispered. “I’m the one who…”

Trailing off, he shook his head before smiling at me, even if it seemed forced.

“That’s beautiful, Zae,” he said, “and I think I finally get it. I still hate it, and I will never stop believing that you’re a fatalistic idiot, but… I understand.”

I didn’t know why that relieved me as much as it had but…

“Good,” I said. “Now. What did you need to tell me?”

After the gift he’d given me, I’d listen to anything Elliot might have to say.

“Fuck,” he coughed. “You never could give a man a moment to think, could you?”

Softly laughing, he leaned his head against the tree.

“What I need to say,” he whispered, as if to no one.

Before meeting my eyes.

“What I need to say is thank you,” he said. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you for keeping me alive. Thank you for every small thing you’ve ever done, even if you didn’t think it was a big deal. It was huge to me. You were my everything for a while, Zae. My family helped, but you were it, and I will miss you forever. But still, I thank you. I could never thank you enough.”

Well, fuck. How was I supposed to respond to that?

Snorting, Elliot broke into another laughing fit, and all the while, I watched the stranger, sleeping in our midst. Was he a hostile? Also, why was Elliot restrained like this? Better to focus on that than on how his words had made me feel.

As Elliot fell quiet again, I said, “Well, you’re welcome in advance, I guess. I’m happy I could help you as much as I apparently have.”

Cautiously, I rested my hand over his, curling my fingers so I could squeeze him, and he drew in a sharp breath.

Ignoring that, I said, “Now, I’m not sure why I’ve delayed with asking this for so long—probably shock or something—but do you need any help now? I can’t help but notice you’re in an *interesting* situation.”

When I tilted my head at the rope around his chest, Elliot grinned.

“No, thank you. This is fine,” he said. “It may not have been by choice this time but trust me when I say it was needed. We can’t have me wandering off now, can we?”

“I… guess not,” I said.

What had he meant by ‘this time’?

“So, if you’re meeting me for the first time, you must have questions,” Elliot said. “Is there anything specific you want to know about me?

I looked at this man and already know everything I needed to. My hesitation to follow Sol’s plan, I realized, had never been specifically about him. It had been about what he represented to me, and I’d already seen more than enough to know what I must do.

So, I said, “No, I don’t think so. This first meeting may have been unconventional, but now that it’s over, we should do this naturally. Let me get to know you as you are, within the confines of our growing relationship, whatever that might be.”

With a cough, Elliot mumbled something unintelligible, and I raised an eyebrow.

“What was that?”

Sighing, Elliot said, “I think that might be wise. *Avan*. I know I’ve already said it a lot, but I really have missed you, Zae. I’m so glad I got to see you, one last time.”

I hesitantly smiled.

“Happy to oblige.”

But I didn’t know what else to say. We sat in awkward silence for a while, or that was how it seemed to me. Elliot never took his eyes off of me, constantly running his gaze over my face, and for once, this fed the needy part of me that I’d thought was long dead, the one that craved another person’s distant admiration, instead of making my skin crawl.

Fortunately, Sol soon returned, clearing her throat to break the silence.

“I’m sorry if this wasn’t enough time,” she said, “but we need to go.”

Nodding, I started getting to my feet, freezing when Elliot shot a hand up.

“Just-” he started.

When we both looked at him, he huffed, looking away.

“Would you please let me…?” he said.

He lifted both arms as far as his bonds would let him, and the pose was so similar to ones I’d held that I knew what he wanted. Even uncomfortable as it made me, I straddled his legs, leaning down so he could reach my face, and gently, he pulled me forward, tilting my head so he could press his lips into my brow. After lingering there for a moment, he relented.

“Goodbye, Zaeden,” he said with tears in his eyes.

I couldn’t help myself.

Smirking, I said, “See you soon.”

And as he laughed, I got to my feet, striding to Sol as quickly as possible. I took her hand, and she pulled us away from the future before the man I’d, in part, die for could stop enjoying my joke.

On the other side of this trip, I heavily dropped to the ground, not even bothering with finding a chair.

“Mother Time,” I whispered. “I’m actually going to die.”

It was my turn to start cackling, although after only a few seconds, it sounded manic on the edges. Collapsing to my side, I clutched at my stomach, ignoring how much I couldn’t control myself, couldn’t keep quiet. Ignoring when my laughter started to resemble sobs.

Crouching opposite me, Sol reached out, and I curled my fingers through hers, grateful beyond words for her compassion. I couldn’t imagine going through this alone, not after the many times I’d had to do that before.

Shit. My life really had been hell.

That thought only made me laugh harder.

Eventually, I got myself together, and as I sat back up, Sol eyed me.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Do I have to do anything more to convince you?”

“I think…”

Sighing, I rolled my head back, falling onto my hands so I could see the stars. Damn. Where had Sol landed us?

“I think you need to see Talira,” I said. “If I’m to have any hope of playacting as the ‘good *Lokke Vitras’* for any amount of time, we’ll have to include her. Otherwise, she’ll know what I’m doing almost immediately, and I’ll be of no use to your saviors if I’m constantly fighting off House Kolb operatives. Will you be able to get her on our side?”

I didn’t find that likely. My grandmother was ever unchanging and fiercely loyal to Lutov, and I couldn’t see her signing off on me doing something that she’d consider a betrayal of the homeland. Sol, however, confidently nodded.

“Don’t worry, Zae-zae,” she said. “I’ve already done that.”

“Wha-?” I started.

But she was gone again, and clicking my tongue, I waited for her inevitable reappearance. That didn’t take her long, but when she returned, she was much shorter and warily watching me. The child version of her, in body and mind.

“It’s ok,” I said. “I’ve agreed to your plan. Now, we need to reach Lutov.”

Relaxing, Sol grinned at me.

“Oh, Zae-zae,” she said, “with the two of us working together, that part will be easy.”