Acasiana’s hand didn’t tremble. Her grip was as strong as iron. I could see her faltering. Whether it was about her believing my words, abandoning her post after so long, or just going back to Staura society in general, I didn’t know. But I knew what someone looked like when they were struggling with a titanically important decision.

By giving her the choice to join me, I’d made her an accomplice in potentially dooming everyone who’d been hurt by Dylan. She cared about that. It was an amazing sign for her as a person, but for right now, it was dangerous. I could feel Keratily and Moricla straining against whatever The End’s power was doing to keep them from wiping us off the face of the planet, and if Acasiana didn’t make a choice soon, it wouldn’t matter.

She’d reset, and I wouldn’t remember a word of this.

{Seb? What in the abyss is going on?} Inopsy asked with blatant confusion. {Why can’t I move? Why aren’t they killing us? And what’s with this aura you’ve got to you? It’s scaring the ever loving shit out of me.}

Okay, maybe he didn’t remember what I did in the oilsea. He was a little blinded by rage back then.

{Long story short, I’m inviting Acasiana to join something I’m not a hundred percent sure what it is. If it works like I think it does, she’s going to become something like Mortician, but… maybe not? Jun didn’t change, and I’m pretty sure she’s a part of it.}

Inopsy didn’t answer right away. {You know, for a lot of words, I didn’t catch anything like a real explanation in there.}

Fair. {Okay, long story shorter then. I’m The End’s chosen, Mortician is one of The End’s people, and I’m trying to make Acasiana into one of them too.}

{Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?} Inopsy laughed and flopped down to sit cross-legged. {Figures you’re some kind of super-special person. Or not special at all? I don’t really know how all the primordial stuff works. And… just making sure… you already told me some of that before I started fighting Keratily?}

{I did. And now I’m trying to get Acasiana out of a cycle that she’d probably keep repeating until the end of time, making herself insane in the process.}

{You’re going to be hated for that. And I might not even remember it.} Inopsy shook his head and his laugh took on a somber tone. {Looks like I’m starting to lose myself again. Don’t hesitate to put me in prison and take away my armor if I start saying horrible things and trying to hurt you, yeah?}

I opened my mouth to say something, but only then did I realize that Inopsy had freed himself from the influence. And that Acasiana hadn’t moved one single but since he started talking to me. The world around me was surrounded in a veil of harsh darkness, only burning red outlines showing the facades of the people I knew were there. But if I didn’t focus on it, I didn’t see it. And when I didn’t see it, Acasiana and the others moved about as well as they used to.

Inopsy didn’t move at all. Whatever he’d done… it was enough to break through The End’s influence. But he wasn’t powerful enough for that. So what the fuck just happened?

“I…” Acasiana began quietly. “People will die. I can’t let that happen again. Not when I have the power to stop it.”

I pushed the confusion away and filed it as a thought for Nia’s inheritance. If I couldn’t find any answers in there, then maybe Okeria would have some.

“There will be other ways. More difficult ways, surely, but they will come in time. You yourself have the power to preserve them–to return them to a state where they are not healthy, but where they have not yet passed on.” I gripped Acasiana’s hand a little tighter. “If we can’t do this here, then the rest of the world will fall to Endra. She will gain control of all the Staura, and then who knows whether that will sate her desire for conquest. Other species might fall to her whims.”

Acasiana looked down and shook her head ever so slightly. “There are other powerful Staura. Like Keratily, Inopsy, and Okeria. Even more so in a lot of cases. They will stop Endra before things get too out of hand. I… I’m… I’m not…”

Her voice hitched. A quiet sob escaped her, so thick with shameful desire and loneliness. “You don’t need me.”

“No.”

She glanced back up at me. Her visor locked on mine, and I could feel exactly how all this time had taken its toll on her. The fact that she’d spent so long trying for a perfect scenario–a scenario that was perfect for me–spoke of her loyalty to her people. In that scenario, she didn’t get what she wanted. She got stuck here for the rest of eternity with Moricla.

I didn’t let go when she tried to pull back. “We don’t need you. Somehow, we would carry on without you. But that doesn’t fucking matter. You’ve done your time. And I’m going to be as selfish as I fucking want. This is my decision, and I’m doing it to save as many people as possible. No matter how many people curse my name when I tell them they’ll have to keep praying for a miracle to save their loved ones. No, we don’t need you.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“We want you.”

The floodgates shattered. A complex mess of emotions poured from Acasiana into me, so many that it was almost overwhelming to try and comprehend. But I’d already accepted Mortician. Nothing could compare to the emotions they’d carried.

Loneliness was at the forefront. Of hundreds upon hundreds of years playing the pacifier to an unstable god. Of abandoning her city to ensure it survived. Then there was the guilt. At killing her own people for the good of those who remained. For those that remained without a leader, and not knowing what would happen to them. Whatever was left of her life before Endra was so little of her memories that I couldn’t even make it out through the deluge, but when everything had washed me over, I felt a sensation so alien compared to everything else.

Hope. All from one person who’d shown up and offered the one thing she desired more than anything. Then crushing despair when she realized what it meant. That she would be doing everything again, yet this time, she would have to be overwhelmingly selfish. So instead of vocalizing her twisted desires, she packed them away. And away. And away. Over and over again, through so many resets that she never lost count of.

Sometimes she got close to the idea. Keratily was on her last legs. Moricla delivered the final blow. Everyone was excited beyond belief that they’d gotten everything they’d hoped for.

She reset. Every single time. Guilt wracked her soul as she truly realized that she could never let this chance go. Her one justified option of freedom. At the cost of everyone else.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She whispered through a throat thick with emotion. “I’m not a good person. You don’t want me. We already won perfectly so many times. But I… I just… I can’t. And I’m so sorry for what I’m going to do.”

The crest on her chest started to shine.

“I promise… one time… I’ll get over it.” She sobbed. “Maybe after a few hundred million times I’ll finally be able to consign myself to the abyss for the rest of eternity. But not this time. Not to you. Not to the one person who actually tried to remember me. Please… even though you won’t remember this… please forgive me.”

My hand crushed hers. She screamed out in pain. Emotion bubbled out of my throat, unimpeded by words, and I couldn’t say anything. I understood exactly what she was going through. She was broken. Beyond saving. Forgotten and tossed aside by history as a footnote’s footnote if even that.

“Can you tell them?”

Acasiana tried to get away. She couldn’t. I wouldn’t let her.

“Can you look them in the eyes, tell them that you’re the reason their loved ones won’t be waking up any time soon?” I pulled her closer and grit my teeth. “Because that’s what a leader has to do. They sacrifice everything for their people, but not all those sacrifices are personal. Sometimes there isn't a good option. Sometimes there is, but it’s not what the leader wants. What you want. Can you tell them to their faces that you’re more valuable than their loved ones?”

“Of course I can’t!” Acasiana cried. “I already gave everything for my people. If I was selfish enough to go through with it, I wouldn’t have reset all those times I got what I wanted!”

“So what are you going to do?!” I screamed and gestured at Moricla and Keratily. “Keep resetting a trillion times until your mind gives up on you and we don’t get any outcome at all? Make your choice! Live with the consequences! That’s what life is! What you’re doing here… it isn’t even living!”

Her demeanor shifted. Her crest dimmed. My heart fell. Did that mean I’d failed? Were we about to reset?

Words shifted to the tip of my tongue. They were different from the ones I’d said to Mortician. Because those words didn’t have the right meaning for Acasiana. I grabbed her hand with both of mine, realized she’d made her decision, and prepared myself to live with it. For all of us to live with it.

“Matria Acasiana Rambola. Your world has forgotten you utterly and completely, regardless of all you sacrificed for it. I am here to share your decisions. To help you shoulder the responsibility you will carry to your grave and far beyond. This time, you will not be alone. We will be with you forevermore, until the stars die out and the last something becomes nothing.”

I felt her acceptance. It was full of guilt and remorse, but also hope and joy. All as one. Unified in the mind and body of the newest member of the Ossuary.

“You will need a name. It will not replace your own, but you will see why.” I said as a multitude of options rolled over my mind until one firmly cemented itself at the forefront. “From now on, you are Acasiana Rambola. You are also Gardener, sower of fresh seeds and winnower of rotting flesh. Your selfish actions will shape the Staura, and I will shoulder every burden along with you. We all will.”

Something snapped in place. The influence disappeared. Inopsy sprang to his feet while Keratily and Moricla both decided to turn on Acasiana. She took a deep breath as she died.

“I’m free.” She whispered, full of emotion and blood as her body rewound to perfect health.

Keratily and Moricla jumped back, no longer at each other’s necks, but also not united against us. All of us were enemies, and it didn’t look like any of us were going with the whole ‘enemy of my enemy is my friend’ thing.

Acasiana Rambola, also known as Gardener, turned to me and gestured at our enemies. “I understand what my freedom is going to cost. And I also understand if you hate me for what it took to get here.”

Keratily’s wounds reopened. She screamed in pain, her armor working to repair itself as she was continuously damaged. Moricla charged Acasiana, her blade at the ready, but it simply clattered to the ground when she took another step. She looked down at her hand in confusion, then up at Acasiana. But it was too late.

“Keratily Keratily, you have cleared the hazard.” Acasiana said with as much pride and disdain as she could manage. “For your prize, I grant you everything you deserve.”