In the dead of night, Aurelius rose one step at a time toward Damian who stood in wait on the hill where his house was. In his arms, he carried Amadeus' body wrapped in his black and bloody cloak. Amadeus' face wasn't visible, so Damian might have denied the conclusion from himself, but after Aurelius raised his head and met Damian's gaze, his eyes like shattered glass, he could deny it no longer.

Aurelius didn't know what kind of reaction he had expected, but he was shocked nevertheless as Damian shook his head profusely before backing off and pacing around until finally rushing to him. He reached for the cloak on Amadeus' body, and Aurelius almost stopped him. But in the end, he did nothing. Damian lifted the veil that protected him from the sight only to break further apart.

Blood drained from his face as he stuttered back. Surprisingly the only thing that spewed from his lips was an apology. And another. He wiped his eyes and then looked around like he was expecting the environment to change.

"I was too slow. I should've figured it out sooner. Oh my god, he was there for days." He put his hands on his head before erupting." Days! With Uzbec!"

Aurelius wasn't sure if Damian had noticed Amadeus' legs. He thought it best not to point it out.

Damian turned a full circle before rushing closer to Aurelius with an intensity in his eyes. "Where is he? You killed Uzbec, right? Right!?"

Aurelius mumbled affirmatively, looked down, and sighed. "Go get a white cloth and shovels."

Damian's eyes went wide as he seemed to remember something. "What about the mission?! What about Orpheus?"

"It's handled. Please do what I asked."

Damian didn't look right. Aurelius hadn't expected Amadeus' death to have such a reaction on him. He didn't know what he had expected.

Still, Damian gathered himself and walked off with hollow steps while Aurelius continued onto the top of the hill.

It was windy. Aurelius could barely feel it, but he could very well see it in the sway of the trees that were far and wide. They weren't very tall trees, except for the one at the peak where Aurelius stopped. There he laid Amadeus down to lean on the trunk of the large tree.

He turned in the direction where the wind blew and felt the desire to disappear along with it. But he was not allowed such a privilege. More precisely, he did not allow himself such a privilege.

It was then that he felt a little drizzle. He could!t believe it. He put a hand out cautiously and a few cold little drops confirmed it.

Suddenly he guffawed uncontrollably. He stooped quickly. But then he did it again. Longer that time as the dull, dark gray sky kept drizzling. He laughed until he bent over and put his hand on his knees. His nails dug in as a pour of aggression washed over him. He dug and shook with a climbing roar before he straightened to scream at the whole monochrome world. He felt like shooting a beam of essence into it that would explode the entire world.

He touched his face, but even as his eyes drooped and stung, they remained dry.

He turned slowly to face his failure.

Slowly, he walked back to Amadeus and squatted down beside him. The cloak was set to cover his lower body, but even as his upper body was exposed he existed serenely with his eyes closed. Maybe he preferred it that way.

"I don't blame you for anything." He looked down from his closed eyes. "I just wish you would've let me save you. I could have if... I..." He sighed and dropped down and scootched his back to the tree.

And there he sat next to another dead friend, body loose with helplessness, eyes hollow with despair.

"I don't know where I'm going," he admitted to no one in particular. "Even after Orpheus, I don't know. All I can think of is shoving my hand through where his heart should be." Then to Amadeus. "I know you think I'm great, and I know you think I don't see myself that way. You can have your opinion. I think I understand why you think that way. But I really don't think you're right. And I really don't think I can believe in myself. This me... The person I've become..." He snorted. "The liveD... That name is just an abstraction. A twisted justification for what I do. But there is no justification for what I've done. All the barbarous bloodshed, the hideous cruelty... I'm not sure anybody can ever love me again. If Cade saw the way I am... Well, she might be the only one who could understand, but even she wouldn't like it. I think she always saw me as innocent. From the very beginning, she was honest with me, trusting in my nature." Then he thought of his mother and swallowed dryly as the drizzle intensified. "She can't see me like this. I'm beginning to wonder if I should ever go back. Just let her forget about me. I don't know. Maybe that's selfish. To be honest, I don't know what is and isn't selfish anymore. I don't know anything except that the surface of this planet is teeming with disgusting, infectious, malicious people who need to die, and I have the power to kill them." He looked at his hands covered by his crimson gloves and clenched his fist.

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In oblivion, as he was most lost, the only guide he had was violence against the deserving, so that was what he would follow.

Right then Damian appeared with two shovels and a large white cloth.

They got to work straight away.

It was fortunate that the soil was good, as they used no essence in the effort. Damian didn't question it. He had already figured since Aurelius could've materialized a shovel for himself but had him bring one anyway.

"How'd you do it?" Damian asked grimly as he thrust his shovel into the soil.

"Stomped on his head until his bone structure was damaged so thoroughly his skull was almost nothing but a shape of shattered pieces," Aurelius explained, voice monotone and old. "Then I kept stomping until my foot met the ground."

"Quicker than he deserved," Damian grunted as he kept digging.

Aurelius didn't take his eyes off the matter at hand. "Then I suppose you would've wanted to do it."

Damian was quiet for a long while after that. He was deeply hurt. Perhaps more deeply than Aurelius himself. Why, Aurelius did not know. The time after they figured that Amadeus had failed had taken a toll on both of them, but Damian had blamed himself even more intensely than Aurelius. Even after the matter was settled, Damian stayed spiteful because he had not expressed his rage like Aurelius had done so many times and once again. Damian had likely remained feeling helpless throughout.

That's why Aurelius didn't oppose him when he muttered, "Wouldn't have been your first time torturing someone."

Aurelius kept shoveling. He heard Damian halt for a second as he realized his words, but after he went back to normal, Aurelius answered, "No, it wouldn't."

Damian didn't apologize, but his utter silence told the story.

Aurelius hadn't wanted to talk about it? But now that it was out in the open, he was drawn to a confession to someone alive. "I have a history of moralism. For a long time, I spent so much time thinking about what kind of person I was. If I was good or kind or strong or admirable. I wanted to be all of those things. It was all I really wanted. To be like my father. The Hero of Zalfari." There were no emotions with those words like there once had been. No worship or pride. They were just words that had become less and less meaningful to Aurelius as time passed. "I've only ever had a few people who I'd call close friends. Two of them I've held dead in my arms. Both were my responsibility. Both died because of me. You don't even know."

Damian kept shoveling quietly as did Aurelius. For a moment, Aurelius considered talking being a mistake. Then Damian mumbled, "Yeah."

So Aurelius continued, "Many have died because I didn't accept what I was. I realize that now. And now... I exist only for suffering. Mine and anyone's who makes this world what it is."Aurelius stepped into the pit and kept shoveling, grunting between sentences as he threw dirt out." I am not noble. I don't even think about what I am anymore. In the past year, nothing good has happened." He let those words sink in, as much for himself as for Damian. "I have no hope for myself anymore. I'm not getting better. I'm just moving. Doing what I have to do."

They shoveled in silence for some time.

"Orpheus," Damian reminded suddenly, his shadowed eyes downcast, his figure drenched in rain.

"Visiting the king tomorrow," Aurelius answered, the day having changed, sunrise only hours away.

As Damian knew Aurelius left no witnesses, he didn't ask if the news about the branch would affect Orpheus' meeting. The news would take time to confirm and relay, and by that time, Orpheus would have already gotten on the move.

They talked no more.

They simply dug until they decided wordlessly that the grave was deep enough. Then they wrapped Amadeus' body in the cloth. By then, Damian had of course noticed the legs but said nothing.

The cloth got wet in the enduring drizzle as Aurelius lowered him gently to the bottom of the grave. A droplet fell on Amadeus' left eye and Aurelius could see it clearly through the cloth. He truly had a beautiful soul. Aurelius crouched down and thought about what to leave behind. Then, almost out of instinct, he gripped a chunk of his hand, and with a swift motion of his hand as well as a flash of essence, he cut it off.

He placed it on the cloth above Amadeus' chest. It took a long moment to sink in before he could get himself out of the grave. Damian said his farewells too before they laid the dirt over Amadeus.

As the last of Amadeus was covered up, Aurelius realized why he had left the hair behind. It was a part of him and it died with Amadeus.

At last, Aurelius wondered if he would ever have such a friend again.