“They found her.”

Octavia was grateful for Harper shaking her out of a nightmare, given how frequently they blighted her. The words he offered in its place were somewhere on the cusp of a dream and a nightmare themselves, for the implications that they came with. It took them a moment to register as she sat up, doffing the covers. Fighting to give him her full, groggy attention took effort.

“Who?”

“The Ebony Maestra,” he murmured urgently.

Octavia’s stomach lurched. “Where was she?”

“Some really remote town in the southeast. I’m amazed they found her at all.”

“And they…brought her back?”

“Yeah.”

That, too, had implications. Octavia was on her feet almost instantly. “Where is she?”

“Selbright,” Harper said. “She’s staying with Mina. It was the easiest option.”

“How’d they get her to agree to come?”

Harper bit his lip. When he didn’t answer, Octavia was almost afraid to ask again.

“Harper, how did they…get her to agree to come with them?”

“It…wasn’t very nice.”

Octavia tensed. “Did they…threaten her or something?”

Harper sighed. Where Octavia had gotten up, he sat down on her bed instead. “I didn’t know this until this morning, but…Josiah apparently gave a message to Briar, and…Briar gave that message to this…Maestra.”

“What did he say?”

The look Harper gave her hurt. “‘If you don’t come with us, we’ll tell the Velrose clergy where you live.’”

Octavia’s eyes widened, her heart dropping into her stomach. Already, she was starting to sweat. “That’s awful! Why would he do that?”

“I know there’s no Velpyre clergy left to hurt them anymore, but I don’t know all the details of how that works. I…imagine getting sent back there wouldn’t end well for her. Not considering what happened,” he said sadly.

“That’s cruel!” Octavia cried. “I don’t understand why he’d do something like that to her!”

Harper shrugged half-heartedly. “It worked. Maybe that was enough for him.”

She struggled to swallow her ire, a Josiah-bound snowball that seemed to grow larger every second she thought about it. “I…what happens now?”

“Now we drag her into this, I guess. I don’t know who’s going to be the one to try to convince her, but--”

“I already know exactly who it’s gonna be,” Octavia spat.

Harper recoiled at her venom. “I…Octavia, I get why he did it, even if it was messed up. He wouldn’t actually do it. You know that. I know that. After everything he’s been through, you seriously think he’d report her?”

Octavia squeezed her eyes shut, exhaling heavily. “No, I…I don’t. I don’t think so, at least. I don’t know.”

“That’s Selena’s mother. He wouldn’t,” Harper said.

“That’s exactly why I’m worried he would,” Octavia murmured.

“Octavia,” he chided sharply, soft as his tone was by comparison.

Even so, she hardly had the drive to apologize. If Harper were to look into her eyes right now, he’d find only the truth of her distrust. She didn’t give him the chance to press. She didn’t want to, going out of her way to give her gaze anywhere except to the boy who could tear it apart.

“Are all of the Soulful in Selbright?” Octavia asked.

He shook his head. “Just the ones that live there. The rest of them came back.”

“All of them?”

Harper’s smile, if nothing else, was welcome. “All of them.”

“Is--”

“Yeah.”

Octavia hoped the way she barely let him finish wasn’t unforgivably rude, although the knowing smile he sustained on her behalf spoke to the contrary. He didn’t object when she sped through the motions of tossing her boots on haphazardly, not so much as caring to formally change out of her nightgown. For now, for at least this moment, being Octavia took priority over the appearances of being the Ambassador. This was too urgent. Her heart couldn’t be placated a moment longer.

She heard him laugh softly at her urgency as she nearly kicked her own door down, the wood slamming with a harsh bang into the wall. She only somewhat regretted the way it probably awoke the rest of her housemates, provided the same news hadn't already awoken them. This news, by comparison, was her own emergency. They’d understand.

Octavia nearly tripped going down the stairs on no less than two separate occasions--an impressive feat, given the small quantity of steps to begin with. The only thing that moved faster than she could was her heart, racing so far ahead of her that she’d surely never catch up again. It had been weeks. Logically, there was no reason to be nervous, and the fleeting thought was almost humorous. It would almost certainly get her teased and laughed at--although that, too, wouldn't be entirely unwelcome.

Octavia never made it outside. She didn’t need to. The only treasure she could desire from the excursion, clad in familiar royal blues and crowned with fluffy satin that had come to stain her eyes, had come home to her instead. Her visage hadn’t changed in the time they’d been pried apart. Octavia’s explosive smile just barely outdid her tears.

She didn’t care who saw. She didn’t care what conversation the girl was well-engaged in. She didn’t care what companions, around which she was currently comfortable or not, were present at her side. It wasn’t enough to keep her from practically leaping from the steps, tackling the girl with such force that she nearly collapsed to the ground. It was by a miracle that she remained upright, stumbling as Octavia’s weight crashed into her in full. It was all the latter could do not to break down in her arms, relieved and joyful to embrace her again. She was aware of the way her voice cracked as she cried the Soulful Maestra’s name. Once more, she didn’t care.

Viola’s hesitation, born of shock, was temporary at best. She returned Octavia’s embrace, albeit with less overwhelming urgency and more amusement. “I’m gonna assume you missed me, then?” she guessed with a laugh.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Octavia teased through tears she couldn’t restrain.

The feeling of Viola’s bow brushing against her cheek made her heart sing. “I could be wrong. Maybe you liked your alone time. Maybe I should go again. Sorry to intrude.”

Octavia only hugged her tighter. “I’ll chase you down and drag you back here if you try.”

“I’ll just have to be faster than you.”

Octavia scoffed. “You are the absolute last person who could ever outrun me.”

Viola’s laugh, stolen from her for so long, was a miracle to hold close again. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

“Okay, you have to share. We missed her, too, you know,” Harper joked from the stairs, leaning against the wall with a casual smile.

“But not as much as I did, so I take priority. Get in line,” Octavia joked back.

“You don’t get special privileges just for being the Ambassador, you know.”

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. He did the same right back. Viola giggled, still bound in Octavia’s embrace.

Octavia was glad, somewhat, that her frantic descent hadn’t woken up the entire cottage prematurely. That part, thankfully, had already been done on her behalf. She was only somewhat distressed at the way her warm hold on the Maestra suddenly increased from a world of two to three, spirit spontaneously thrust into a mix of soul and heart alike.

“We missed you soooo much!” Madrigal cried, one arm thrown around either Maestra in a way that stole Octavia’s breath. “We were all so lonely without you! We thought about you every day, and you were always in our hearts! We never forgot about you!”

“Why do you people keep acting like I died or something?” Viola asked with another giggle.

“Good to have you back, Vi,” Renato offered with a grin. “Missed ya.”

“Harper, tell me if he’s lying.”

“I sincerely don’t know what I expected.”

There was a part of Octavia that was afraid to look to her left, should she find the physical capacity to peek past Madrigal’s endless squeezing. She knew he was there. She’d heard his voice as she’d raced to Viola’s side, surely having gone straight to business the moment she’d arrived. If she chanced a glance at him, if she broke the spell that came with the warmth of blessed reunion, would the ice in Josiah’s eyes freeze her heart and sting her soul again? She didn’t want to risk it.

Octavia did it anyway. She hadn’t, under any circumstances, expected the faint satisfaction that had settled onto his lips. Even with his arms crossed and his gaze stern, still he found the consideration to smile. It wasn’t warming, but it was more than relieving. She could breathe.

When the moment passed, when Octavia was free once more, the joy in her heart was edged out somewhat by the dread that threatened to take its place. If Viola was here, it was as Harper had said--her return wasn't without reason, and apparently not without success. In the worst way, Josiah was surely satisfied with the outcome. Perhaps she should’ve been, too.

It didn’t make a single word that left his mouth any easier to handle. It didn’t pull Octavia from the auditory threshold of bells or no bells that she teetered on each time he spoke lately. Even now, fresh from the elation of reuniting with her Soulful companion once more, she was right back on that borderline again.

“You were saying, then,” Josiah resumed, a conversation long interrupted brought to life once more. “She’s in good health?”

“She’s definitely not happy, that’s for sure,” Viola muttered.

Josiah blinked slowly. “I can’t particularly blame her.”

“That was a low blow. Seriously.”

“It worked.”

“Are you actually gonna do it?” Octavia murmured, the question still burning a hole in her mind even now.

The eyes that met her were cold enough that her heart pounded. For a moment, she genuinely, truly feared he’d say yes. Josiah's actual answer wasn’t much better.

“I’m not going to tell the clergy. However, I’m going to hold onto that for a little bit longer.”

“What do you mean?” Viola asked.

He sighed. “She doesn’t know I’m bluffing. We’re gonna keep it that way. If we don’t, there’s absolutely no way we’re going to be able to convince her to go down there. That’s to say nothing of actually getting her to form a bond with Seraphim’s Call again in the first place. I highly doubt guilt-tripping would work. Never stopped her before.”

Viola tilted her head. “Guilt…tripping?”

Josiah was silent for a moment. “Nevermind. Just…know that this was the best option, and maybe even the only option. I didn’t do it because I wanted to. I did it because it would work.”

Renato crossed his arms uncomfortably. “Does she…know what she’s gonna have to do?”

Josiah shook his head. “Not yet. I’m going to go talk to her. There’s a non-zero chance she could call my bluff and try to escape. If that happens and she goes somewhere else, we’d have to start over. I don’t want to have to keep catching her and dragging her back again and again.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

The words were out of Octavia’s mouth before she realized they’d left. They were enough to draw the piercing gaze she hated. She met it with her own, resolute for once in defense of a woman she’d never met.

“Like what?” Josiah asked coolly.

Octavia did what she could to glare steel into his soul. “She’s…from the same place as you. She dealt with the same people you did. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

He didn’t budge. “Of course it matters. This matters too, though. We need to be able to get to Seraphim’s Call, whatever that takes. It’s not optional. You know that. I know that. We don’t have a choice.”

“We have a choice to be kind,” she urged.

“Not with this.”

It was in words she wasn’t supposed to hear that Octavia had heard of others’ distaste for Josiah’s coldness in recent weeks. Now, though, they stood silent, seemingly content to let her take control of a confrontation she lamented dealing with at all. “Let me go with you.”

Josiah narrowed his eyes. “You don’t trust me to talk to her alone, then?”

Steadying her breath was a nightmare, the effort of keeping her voice level just as difficult. “I’m…the Ambassador. I have the right to be there. I have the right to be involved.”

Octavia was glad he was Essenced. She was glad he wasn’t Willful, let alone a Maestro anymore. It was a combination that would’ve stricken her down on the spot, for how harshly his eyes speared into her heart and came out the other side. “You want to be involved in planning all this, then?”

There was nothing in her life that she wanted less.

“Yes.”

That alone was a risky answer. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen her break down at least once. If anyone could put the pieces of her rosy puzzle together from context alone, it was him. His suspicions weren’t subtle.

“You’re sure?”

Octavia contemplated modifying her terms. She opted against it, any mentions of making a sole exception or finding a sudden motivation surely a hint at ulterior motives of kindness. If she tried to sneak into his head, she wouldn’t be surprised if he interpreted her intentions as sabotage. That would be an entirely different battle to fight with him.

“Yeah.”

Josiah glared. She glared back, the fire she'd concocted beneath her pupils not quite enough to bore through the ice in his own. Octavia held her breath.

“We’re going in the morning, then. We’re going by ourselves. I remember the way back.”

What should’ve let her breathe a sigh of relief only made her stomach twist into a knot instead. The idea of walking alongside him for roughly twelve straight hours, unfeeling as he’d been, was a misery in and of itself. Part of Octavia liked to imagine he might soften up somewhat. Most of her doubted it.

“What are you planning on telling her?”

Harper’s voice was far more level than her own, calm and composed to a degree Octavia wished she could emulate. It didn’t quite match with the slightest splash of hostility that painted his face.

It hardly rattled Josiah. “It’ll be fast. I’ll tell her that she won’t have to stay for long. She can get this over with and go back to whatever it is she’s doing with her life.”

“What’s your plan for her?”

“We get her down there, she bonds, Octavia guides the Muse in Seraphim’s Call, and we get her out. It’s that simple.”

“If she refuses?”

“Same threat.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this. I know you don’t have anything against her.”

“She has every right to hate us. Believe me, I don’t want to have to do this to her.”

Harper’s eyes widened. His face fell. It wasn’t subtle.

Josiah froze, unable to tear his eyes away from the Willful boy’s own. Each of their gazes flooded with different flavors of pain. The moment he took the bait, he gritted his teeth. Octavia wanted to vomit.

Josiah didn’t give anyone else a chance to process the depth of an otherwise-shallow exchange. It was with far less joy than Octavia’s flight that the bang of the front door rattled the cottage on his way out. It was the most emotion she’d seen him emit in awhile. She almost preferred it this way.

----------------------------------------

Octavia hardly processed most of the twelve hours it took to walk to Selbright once more, regretful not to be in River’s company this time around. It would’ve been far less stressful than walking on eggshells around a lightning bolt waiting to strike, for how on edge Josiah seemed to be. He was dead silent nearly the entire voyage, save for occasional reminders for Octavia to hydrate or insistence that she rest for a while. She was surprised to even receive those, somewhat beginning to doubt the degree to which he'd truly suppressed kindness.

He was unstable, her understanding of a boy she’d spent so much time with quickly slipping away. She thought about making idle conversation, the emotional distance between them driving her downright insane. She summoned the strength to try at least once.

“I wish…Selbright was closer. It’s tough that we have to keep walking back and forth like this.”

“Mhm.”

It wasn’t getting her far. “It’d be nice to get to look around Selbright at some point. We could…put aside a day or two for it. I think that’d be interesting.”

“Not anytime soon.”

Octavia frowned. “I didn’t mean…nevermind.”

Josiah didn’t give her anything to work with. She didn’t bother to try again for several hours, and even that had been fruitless.

“It’s starting to get colder.”

“Are you cold?”

It was interaction, at least. “No, I mean the weather. Maybe we should get warmer clothes.”

“We can put time aside to get stuff in Selbright, if we really need it. Just for that.”

“Do you like cold weather?”

“I don’t particularly care.”

He didn’t particularly care about anything, apparently. “Do you have a…favorite kind of weather?”

“No.”

Octavia gave up again.

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Even if she were to bide her time conversing with Stradivaria, there was little she could think of to say regardless. Her thoughts were idle, passing bursts of negativity that she couldn’t quite quash despite her best efforts. She’d managed, at least temporarily, to calm her pounding heart long enough to get her through dealing with this small facet of her task from Hell.

Octavia wasn’t quite growing numb to the thought of the blossom and the flame--not in the absolute slightest. Even so, her pain was somewhat muted, for now. She was underwater, hopelessly adrift in dark depths through which all was muffled and still. Surely, she would have to come up for air eventually. She wondered if Stradivaria would understand, if she could pull him down with her into that dark place.

Do not trust Stratos.

That, too, was its own dark place.

Josiah’s borderline impatience had led them to flee the cottage while the stars were still burning out against the morning sky. As such, they'd had the chance to cling to a bit more shimmering sunshine than the trip to Selbright usually afforded. She was thoroughly impressed by Josiah’s ability to locate Mina’s house of his own accord, relative to his singular voyage to her home from the opposite direction entirely. Given the frequency with which Octavia and company tended to show up at Mina’s house unannounced, she was beginning to wonder if they were intruding. Apparently, in this instance, Mina hardly minded.

“Well, hello,” she greeted with a bit too much enthusiasm, leaning against the doorway.

Octavia waved, grateful for her first friendly interaction in over twelve entire hours. If Mina’s eyes were anything to go by, it wasn't for her.

Josiah didn’t so much as crack a smile. Still, he at least raised one hand in a quiet wave of his own. “Hey.”

“I can’t say I was expecting company,” Mina added, her voice dripping with something Octavia couldn’t quite pinpoint. The way she twirled a strand of hair around one finger was equally puzzling.

Josiah tilted his head, his expression neutral. “Do you mind having us?”

Mina's grin was different. It painted a picture that made Octavia raise an eyebrow. “Not one bit.”

“Appreciate it.”

“You are always welcome here. Stay as long as you'd like, my Essenced friend.”

For whatever exceedingly low tone Mina was taking with him, Josiah was largely unfazed. “Is she here?”

“Straight to business, then. I respect it. She’s in the salon. Are you in the mood for anything to eat? I can make you whatever you want.”

“I’m good,” he said coolly, practically pushing past her on the way in. Mina rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“What kind of tea do you like?” she called.

Josiah raised one hand dismissively behind him. “I’m fine.”

Mina watched him pass her by for far longer than was necessary. Octavia tried and failed horrifically to stifle a smirk of her own.

Mina wasn’t immune to it, although it didn’t quite quash her grin. “Damn, he’s the hard to get type. That’s kind of hot.”

“You are absolutely shameless.”

“And you dropped him right at my doorstep. One hell of a gift from a friend. Please do that more often.”

Octavia couldn’t keep her smile for long. “We’re…not exactly here for fun.”

Mina crossed her arms, her satisfied grin falling in turn. “I kinda figured. You want me to give you guys some space?”

Octavia winced. “I feel bad doing that to you in your own house.”

Mina rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. “I don’t know if I want to be a part of whatever talk is about to happen. She hasn’t been a bad guest at all. She’s actually pretty nice. I feel kinda weird that everyone seems to have it out for her.”

“You’re really not gonna wanna hear this conversation, then,” Octavia murmured. “Just know that there’s a…reason.”

Mina sighed. “I figured as much. I’ll stay out of your way. If you’re gonna start yelling, try not to be too loud.”

“I’m really sorry about all this,” Octavia said sadly. “It’s one more thing I’m dragging you into.”

Mina shook her head with a smile. “Don’t be. Besides, your little peace offering over there more than makes up for it. It’s gonna be pretty cold out tonight. Tell him the house has poor heating. Tell him my nice warm bed has enough room for two peop--”

Octavia didn’t particularly regret elbowing Mina in the stomach, although the playful blow wasn't nearly as hard as it could’ve been. “Does your dad know you act like this?” she muttered rhetorically.

It was more tempting to stay with Mina, joking and teasing where applicable, than it was to face the weight of the confrontation she knew awaited beyond the threshold. True to her word, Mina did give them space, content to depart down the hallway without objection. The distant sound of a door closing gently left Octavia sealed in a sizable room that felt far too small. Two embers of a flame that had long since raged and died had already locked eyes, inseparable and unmoving. He stood. She sat. Neither blinked.

The woman delicately placed her teacup atop the salon table, not daring to peel her eyes away from Josiah’s as they pinned her in place. “Hello,” she offered, her voice soft.

She didn’t sound like Selena. She didn’t particularly look like Selena, either, the long locks of her hair that challenged the night sky perhaps the only thing that aligned the two acolytes. She was mature, composed, graceful in her own way--even under the crushing pressure of the boy who stared her down.

Her eyes were different, more like the deep forests of Josiah’s than Selena’s own. She wasn’t Selena. For the absolute force with which Josiah's gaze sought to tear the woman down to her soul, he wouldn’t find the fallen acolyte. They’d never met, Octavia realized. She watched him try anyway, wordless and utterly fixated on her face alone.

The woman averted her eyes, desperate to escape his intrusive glare. “I-I…I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We’ve never gotten the chance, no,” Josiah said quietly.

For the briefest moment, Octavia caught the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

The woman’s best efforts to break the loaded silence between them were respectable. “I’m…Celestina,” she tried.

Josiah didn’t blink. “I know who you are.”

The way those fingers became fists wasn’t quite as subtle, nor quite as fleeting.

The discomfort on the woman’s face was substantially more visible than Josiah’s, a different flavor than the boy’s own. Even in the face of his apathy, she still strived to offer peace. “And…you are?”

“I was your daughter’s best friend.”

The words didn’t leave his mouth calmly, low as his voice was. They rattled all the way out, tailed by shaky breaths that Octavia watched him fight to suppress. That, too, wasn't subtle. Either this woman took no heed willingly, truly didn't notice, or Octavia simply knew the boy too well to dismiss his invisible ire. She feared for whatever would leave his mouth next.

“I’m Octavia,” she interjected quickly, desperate to steal the former acolyte’s attention. “I’m the Ambassador. It’s…nice to meet you.”

There was a relief that came with those soft, confused eyes upon herself instead of the boy whose glare threatened to tear her to shreds. It didn’t make her feel any better about drawing Josiah’s silent hate towards herself instead. Octavia shuddered under the sensation of the daggers spearing into her back.

“Likewise,” the woman reciprocated. “The…Ambassador, you said?”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean?”

Octavia bit her lip. She’d forgotten they were starting from nothing, the former Maestra’s understanding of the world she’d left behind undoubtedly close to zero by now. There were gaps to be filled. They weren't small. She wondered how much she could trust Josiah to offer his wisdom in a neutral manner, although the way his shoulders still rose and fell just a bit too fast made her fear for his impartiality. She took the lead as best as she could.

“There’s…something I…need to do to help everyone. We need your help with part of it, just for a little while. Has anyone told you anything?”

Celestina shook her head sadly. “I don’t understand any of this. I don’t want to do this.”

“It’s not up to you.”

The violence in Josiah’s words was venomous enough to sting Octavia’s blood, and the hurt that filled Celestina’s eyes made her feel sick. Octavia returned his glare, even with his vicious attention no longer upon herself.

“Have I done something wrong? Is this my punishment?” Celestina pleaded.

Josiah closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. It did little to steady the waver in his voice. “We don’t intend to keep you here. We need you for one task and one task only, and then you can go back to the life you were living. It won’t take long, and you’ll be protected. No harm will come to you. We’ll make sure of that.”

“What are you talking about?” Celestina asked nervously. “Are you going to put me in danger?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“You abduct me and you threaten me,” she spat, “and you won’t tell me if you plan to hurt me?”

“We don’t plan to hurt you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Josiah gritted his teeth. “Then don’t believe me. It’s still the truth. Do the one thing we ask you to, and we’ll let you go.”

Celestina narrowed her eyes. “And if I refuse?”

“You know what’ll happen,” he hissed.

No longer was this woman meek and timid as she’d been upon their arrival, now meeting Josiah’s deadly glare with fire in her own eyes. It was befitting of the flame she’d once been. It wasn't lost on Octavia, the way she seemed to bite back as hard as Selena--at least from what she’d gathered in the brief time she’d known the ill-fated acolyte. That, if nothing else, they seemed to have in common. She couldn’t help but wonder if Josiah noticed the same, or if her observation was even slightly accurate in the first place.

The former acolyte backed down first, the unbearable tension between the two forged in the same Hell gently lessened. “What are you asking of me?”

Josiah didn’t hesitate, his voice harsh and cold. “Come with us to Velpyre and become a Maestra again. It’ll be brief. You’ll be freed of that role for good in less than a day. It’s like I said. We need you for one thing and one thing only.”

It was the name of the Cursed City, ultimately, that seemed to strike fear into her heart at last. Celestina’s eyes widened, flooding with terror. “You’re…going to make me go back there?”

Josiah paused. “There’s nothing left down there anymore.”

Celestina’s terror was, momentarily, stemmed by the confusion that trickled in. “What are you talking about?”

“There is no Velpyre left,” he said. “There’s no one. There’s nothing. It’s a hellhole filled with nothing but Dissonance. There’s…no clergy.”

The way his biting tone seemed to soften somewhat upon his final sentence wasn't lost on Octavia, either, relentless as his other sentiments had been thus far. For how Celestina’s horrified eyes softened in turn, it seemed to alleviate the fear that hung unspoken in the air.

“There’s no acolyte.”

Those words, at least, were absolutely dripping with poison. Octavia couldn’t bear to look at Josiah's expression. She had a feeling she knew exactly what she’d find.

It was a reflex, somewhat, that Octavia searched for the same reaction on Celestina’s face that Josiah surely hunted for. She looked for shock, grief, perhaps the heartrending depiction of indifference and unfeeling. She found only muted surprise, averted eyes, and a moment of silence that challenged the boy head-on.

“I…how?”

“It was too much. She took everything down with her. She had every right.”

“Selena?” Celestina murmured softly.

“Not that you would know.”

Josiah's venom took hold instantly, seeping into the woman’s bloodstream with such fervor that the hurt in her eyes nearly burned Octavia. He was going too far. It wasn’t her place to intervene. She needed to. She couldn’t.

“Is she…”

“She suffered all the way until the end, alone, with no one she could share that burden with. You have…no idea what she went through. You have no idea what she was left to deal with. She was a child.”

Whatever discussion was to be had regarding Seraphim’s Call had been left by the wayside. Octavia’s heart was pounding. Josiah’s voice was rising. He was shaking.

“She was a child. She could hardly walk. She couldn’t even reach the friggin’ keys. It was sick. Sometimes they had to physically hold her so she could play, because her little body couldn’t handle the strain of pushing that hard every day.”

Josiah’s words were wavering, the white-hot fire in his eyes wrathful and lethal in equal measure. His fists had clenched so tightly that Octavia sincerely feared he might lose circulation. Celestina didn’t dare breathe, pinned by his rage.

“You want to be afraid of the clergy? I know with certainty you had a family. You had people there. You had support. What did she have? She didn’t have a mother. She didn’t have a father. They were all she had. I was all she had.”

Celestina, too, was trembling. “I--”

“I hope your freedom was worth it, because she never got hers--not for a second. Never in her life did she get a shred of peace. She never had a single moment where she could truly, sincerely live without the fear that someone was going to hurt her again. Keep her name out of your mouth.”

“I’m--”

“She hated you,” Josiah growled. “She despised you. You left her there. You got out. She didn’t. You didn’t care.”

The former acolyte’s eyes swam with tears. “Please--”

“She said she wished you’d never given birth to her. She loathed that you had the audacity to bring her into a world like that.”

“I never meant to hurt her,” Celestina whispered.

“Don’t lie to me!” he finally screamed. Octavia jumped.

“I’m not lying! She was my dau--”

“She was not your daughter!” Josiah shouted, slamming his fist against the wall. So heavy was the blow that the house practically shook, the bang of his fury undoubtedly enough to garner Mina’s attention somewhere. “You lost the right to call her that the moment you stepped into the sun! She is not your daughter! She will never be your daughter!”

Tears dripped solemnly down Celestina’s cheeks, her hands gripping the hem of her skirt for dear life. “I didn’t want to live like that anymore!” she sobbed.

“You think she wanted to? You sincerely think she wanted to? She was a child! She was a friggin’ child! What the hell kind of mother lets her child take the fall like that? It should’ve been you!”

“Please!”

“Maybe I should turn you in! Why the hell do you get to taste freedom? Why the hell did you get away with it when they broke her spirit every single day?”

“No!” Celestina begged, her desperate eyes wide with horror.

“Josiah, stop it!” Octavia pleaded. Her hands were aloft, hesitant fingers stilled on the way to his shoulders as she contemplated pulling him away. The distance between the two Velpyre survivors was startlingly close, and she couldn’t guarantee with 100% certainty that the boy wouldn’t take physical action. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to touch him.

For an instant, fleeting as the lightning he carried in his blood, his eyes struck her down with the same. The fury he harbored shocked her to her core, just as she’d feared for so long. It mattered not that it was misplaced. For just a moment, she was afraid of him.

“You want to deal with this? You deal with it, then! To hell with the clergy! If she doesn’t go down there, I’ll kill her myself!”

“Knock it off!” Octavia snapped. It was empty hostility, the waver in her voice more than audible.

Celestina’s whimpering was enough to reclaim his rage, by which that unforgiving lightning struck at her heart again and again with his gaze alone. Octavia inched closer to him, particularly given the way one of his feet slid threateningly forward. She was becoming seriously convinced that he might lunge at her.

Even with his volume lowered somewhat, his wrath was unrestrained and raw. His voice shook with the effort of leveling his ire. “She’s not here to hate you anymore. I will give you all of her hate until the day I die. If I had my way, I’d drag you down and drown you in it. You deserve that. It shouldn’t have been her. It wasn’t meant to be her. I hope you choke on that hatred every day you’re alive.”

“Stop!” Octavia growled. This time, she couldn’t help but put her hand on his shoulder. It was instinctive. It was a poor decision, and his head snapped to her instead. So, too, did she earn the same scorching lightning once more.

“This is your problem now. You wanted to be here so badly? You do it.”

Somewhere, in the depths of his hatred, he was kind enough not to hurt her, to not meet her physical touch with violence. It wasn’t enough to still him in full, and he launched himself out of her grip instantly. He more or less sprinted, the slam of the delicate door to his graciously-lent room once again enough to nearly rattle the house. She heard at least one additional bang that followed, mysterious in its own right, from much the same direction. She made a mental note to apologize profusely to Mina later on behalf of his highly-audible aggression.

“I’m so sorry.”

The former acolyte and her quiet sobbing took priority, eyes cast upon the carpet in shame. The sight was pitiful. Octavia didn’t hesitate to settle in beside her, although her hesitation managed to creep well into her words.

“It’s…okay,” she lied. “Just…leave him be.”

For all of Octavia’s distaste with Josiah’s rage, she couldn’t apologize on his behalf. She couldn’t bring herself to undermine his pain. In the worst way, he hadn’t been entirely, completely, 100% unjustified, and the knowledge sat like bricks of lead in Octavia’s stomach.

“I didn’t know,” Celestina whispered, her voice cracking.

“Most people…don’t,” Octavia offered softly. She wished she didn’t, either.

“The…blossom?”

Residual as it was, the echoes of Josiah’s wrathful cries were somehow louder than the bells. It was a deterrent she loathed. “It’s the same. The clergy really is still there.”

“Please don’t tell them where I live,” Celestina pleaded through her tears once more. “Please. It doesn’t matter that they can’t send me back down there. They’d still punish me on their behalf.”

It was the least of the vengeance they’d take, surely, given the manner by which the flame had burned the blossom to a crisp. Octavia wasn’t cruel enough to make the woman’s suffering any worse right now. She didn’t lie so much as she did deflect. “If you help us with this, there won’t need to be a Velpyre anymore. No one will ever need to go down there for anything again. There…really is nobody left. We’ll make sure no one hurts you.”

Celestina sighed, her breath rattling all the way out. “That boy. He’s…of the flame as well?”

Octavia nodded. “He got out. He’s the only person left alive who did. He was…telling the truth about your daughter--about Selena. I don’t know very much about their relationship, but they grew up together, from what I understand. They were really close. She…meant a lot to him.”

Celestina wiped her eyes as she calmed. “Then I’m…glad Selena had such a person by her side. Did you know her, as well?”

Octavia couldn’t look her in the eyes. She felt dizzy in the slightest. “A little bit. I-I didn’t know her for very long, and I didn’t get to know her very well. I can count the conversations we had on one hand. It would’ve been…nice to get to know her better.”

She was grateful when Celestina didn’t fight for her attention, content to fold her hands in her lap instead. “Then I’m glad for what you did offer to her.”

There was a part of Octavia that desperately wanted to pry, partially on Josiah’s behalf. She wanted to know why this woman had chosen to abandon an innocent child to such a horrific fate, or whether or not she was regretful. She wanted to know if this woman would’ve made the same choice over again, knowing what she knew now.

It wasn’t what she was here for. The tables had turned, and it was now she who was entrusted with the responsibility of calm and logical reasoning. It was Josiah, rather, who was out of sight, battling emotions she couldn’t begin to fathom.

“We…need to get rid of Seraphim’s Call, once and for all,” Octavia explained, doing what she could to suppress the deep discomfort in her soul that trailed each word. “You’re the only person in the world who can help us.”

“That boy said I…must become a Maestra once more, then,” Celestina murmured.

“A Maestra, yes,” Octavia said firmly, “but not an acolyte. You don’t…ever have to be an acolyte again.”

Celestina eyed her with silent sorrow. It hurt.

“You don’t even have to play,” Octavia offered gently. “You just…need to be there. We’ll do everything else. No one will make you play.”

“You’re certain?”

“I swear.”

“If that boy tries, then?”

“I won’t let him.”

There was no reason she needed to, logically. To force her into such a position would be cruel and unnecessary. Even if Octavia hesitated to defy Josiah in most aspects of his planning, it was one caveat she refused to let slide. She’d stand up to the lightning that struck her down where she stood, if it came to that.

“She has…every right to hate me,” Celestina said softly.

“Selena?”

“Yes.”

Octavia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, weighing the possible cruelty of the words that sat in weight on her tongue. It felt almost manipulative. “Maybe this is…a way you could make it up to her.”

“What do you mean?”

Octavia still couldn’t make eye contact. “You’d be getting rid of the one thing that caused her the most grief. I think that would…mean something to her.”

Celestina was almost inaudible, her voice tiny. “Do you really think so?”

Truthfully, even Octavia wasn’t certain if it was entirely a lie. “I do.”

Celestina hesitated. “I…”

“You don’t have to do this out of fear,” Octavia said. “You could do this out of love.”

It really did feel manipulative, and the sensation made her stomach churn. Still, Octavia couldn’t fully disbelieve her own words. It was almost a sick comfort, hastily woven along the way. She hoped Selena wouldn’t hate her for it.

“I’m afraid to go back there,” Celestina confessed.

“We all are.”

That was no lie.

“When…would we go?” she asked.

Octavia fiddled with the hem of her dress. “I don’t know. Soon, I think. It’s not up to me. That boy, Josiah, he’s planning most of this. He would know.”

“I fear he may kill me before we get there,” Celestina said, her words bitter.

Octavia frowned. “I won’t let him hurt you, either. Don’t be afraid of him.”

She was a hypocrite.

“Josiah,” the former acolyte echoed gently. “That’s a lovely name. I know I deserve his hatred, but to know he’s from Velpyre as well is…comforting, somewhat. Is that wrong?”

Octavia shook her head. “I don’t think that’s wrong at all. You guys are the only ones left.”

“Would he be going down there again, as well?”

She nodded. “Not just him. Myself, and…a lot of other Maestros. We’re gonna fight our way through, if we need to. You won’t be alone. Like I said, we’ll protect you.”

Celestina was quiet for a moment. Eventually, she closed her eyes.

“I’ll go,” she murmured. “For this, and not for a moment longer.”

Where Octavia should’ve breathed a sigh of relief, she still found her throat dry and her heart lodged firmly within it. It was almost too good to be true. Part of her knew Josiah would strangle her, instead, for offering gratitude. Ultimately, she was the Ambassador. It was her right. “Thank you,” she said.

“Consider it my final obligation to that wretched flame, provided you can assure me it will never torment another soul in that manner again.”

Again did Octavia nod. “With Seraphim’s Call gone, there would never be another reason, I don’t think.”

“Good.”

She hesitated to press, to further skirt the line of innocent questioning and malicious manipulation. “Are you…doing it for Selena, then?”

Celestina didn’t respond immediately. She tangled her fingers together loosely in her lap. “Perhaps…not just for her alone. Perhaps I owe it to others I have wronged in my absence, as well. I…wish only that I could see her face. I wonder what type of girl she grew up to be. Was she beautiful?”

Octavia lost her breath. “She was.”

The first smile she’d ever seen grace Celestina’s lips came at the expense of her own lucidity. “For such a beautiful flame to burn in such an awful place…I’m certain she was a gift.”

Octavia counted every last one of her blessings that Celestina’s eyes were once more closed in quiet repose. She was somewhat grateful that the image of her daughter unseen was bringing at least a fragment of peace to the former acolyte’s heart. It didn’t help the way Octavia’s blood bubbled, her heart pounded, her stomach twisted into knots. It didn’t help the way the bells, faint as they were, echoed somewhere far off, just as they had the day that flame was snuffed out.

It shredded her soul to pieces to imagine what this woman would feel knowing exactly how her daughter had perished. Octavia resolved to guard that horrid truth with her life. This time around, she couldn’t shake the concept of the Ebony bloodline truly dying by her hands.