Chapter 50: 50. Reparations

“Do you think that is likely?” She asked.

He was silent.

“Tell me that you think I will probably change in time, that I can become one of those soft women. Tell me that you think it’s likely.”

His silence was damning. “So you’re refusing to help me with the one path that I found while hoping for an equally unlikely one. I thought you loved me. Has that gone away in just a few years? Or was it all a lie to begin with?”

He seemed offended.

“Maybe the path I chose is difficult. But it is all I am certain of. I’m not stupid. Every fork on that path required me to choose something I would never naturally do. I know that, by myself, I would never naturally achieve that ending. That’s why I need you. But you would rather see me suffer?”

Achi sighed in irritation. “Haven’t I helped you already? I’m still trying to help, despite your stupidity.”

“I could have been her, right?”

He froze at Aria’s change of topic.

“In the right circumstances,” she said. “If I had that divine spark that they took from us. I could have found my powers early. My parents would not have forced me into Garo’s service. I would have been a different person. But now, you’re going to die because you can’t live without her.”

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly firm. “You did not change; your circumstances did. There are many people with similar childhoods who ended up better than you. All your circumstances did was show who you are at your worst. So, you could never have been Ovi. She is pure no matter what she grows in. So, she was always only a dream.” he shrugged. “These things happen.”

Aria stepped closer. “But in a sense, I am still her, just different from what you thought. And you still love me, even if I’m not your match. So, you are going to help me. And I am going to help you. When I am strong enough, I’ll be who you need me to be. I’ll become her and bring you back.”

The pathfinder had not shown that, but Aria was not going to let a ring constrain her dreams.

Achi smiled sadly. “For a second there, I almost believed you, that you will try to become a - how did you put it - soft woman.” He chuckled. “So, thank you for that hope.”

“All we can do is try,” Aria said. “Those are your choices. Give up now, and the only woman you could ever love will spend eternity in a tiny cell being used for whatever Garo does with those poor souls. Or help her, help her as best as you can and hope that with our combined efforts and a bit of luck, there’s hope.”

She fell silent. Those words, delivered as best as she could remember, came from the pathfinder. And in the vision, they had worked. Whether they would work now was anyone’s guess. She felt an urge to pray to Evera, but stifled it.

Achi sighed. And sighed again.

“I die, anyway,” he said. “This is just faster.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Aria clenched her fists to keep from speaking and breaking the spell. She wanted to promise him that she would revive him, but the pathfinder had not shown her that statement.

“And without my help,” Achi said, “you would probably end up with the worst outcome.”

He sighed again.

“Fine, Aria,” He looked like a man sentenced to death. “I’ll help you. I already told you that it won’t turn out the way you saw, but you’re determined to ignore the wise choice. So, I’ll help.” He forced his features into calm acceptance. “Choose the path with the wine.”

Aria watched him leave with still clenched fists, her heart pounding. When the door closed and his footsteps finally faded, she sank to the floor in exhaustion. There was no joy; his discouraging words still haunted her, but she would survive the night.

When she rose again, guilt was her foremost feeling. There was no way to sugarcoat it: she had manipulated him. And while she typically found that acceptable, using it on Achi felt like kicking a kitten. There was enough of Isei in his features - that sweet, kind, selfless boy - that the memory of her words tore at her chest. Of course, he had folded when she mentioned Ovi. He still had that dream of love. She intended to follow through with her promise to give him love: if not with her, then with someone else. That guilt would not leave until she kept the promise.

While Achi returned to the feast hall, Aria headed back to the kitchen. There, she retrieved a new pitcher and filled it with wine. The workers were too busy to watch her, but she found a secluded corner anyway.

She spit into the pitcher twice, the same number that she had seen in the maze, and stirred it with her finger. A kiss - or its substitute - from a woman he loved but who did not love him. Diluted in the wine, it was enough to kill him - but not quickly. More importantly, it would make Garo save her for Tivelo’s justice, getting her out of the palace that night. Tivelo would lock her up in his dark dungeon, an experience that, while difficult, would provide her proving ground while keeping her hidden from Garo’s eventual attack. Achi would provide the rest of the requirements - enough ambient magic for her to gradually absorb, and the tools for her eventual death and metamorphosis. She did not know how long it would take. It would probably be centuries in that dark place. She would probably go mad. But the end would be worth it.

She wiped her finger on her shirt, confirmed once more that no one had seen her, then strode confidently back to the feast.

Despite the knowledge from the maze, she worried. Worried that someone would stop her, worried that she would be diverted. Worried that Achi would change his mind.

She need not have worried.

He met her eyes once when she entered the hall, but did not linger. Garo, too, gave her a murderous look but did not keep her from resuming her place. When she filled Achi’s cup, and he reached for it, she heaved a sigh of relief. There had been no reason to doubt him. Scold her as he might, Isei was kind. Even if he saw no path forward for himself, he would not deny her hers.

His hand brushed against hers as he took the cup - only momentarily. Then, she realized that she was looking at his face. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

Why was she looking at his face?

He took a sip, swallowed, and remained still for a moment, his lips still wet from the drink.

Then, he fell.

As the memory released her, Aria was gripped by a whirlwind of emotions, foremost among them horror. With every bit of power left, she reached for the reality she had shed, hoping to find a thread back to life, cursing herself and Achi and every other person responsible for this fate.

Fortunately, living was as easy as dying had been. She found a wisp of the power she had just discarded and forced it back into herself. Then, she found more and grabbed that as well. She kept pulling more and more, desperation itself, until there was no more to be found. Her eyesight returned, and she found herself prone on the sandy beach, staring up at the sky in relief and gratitude.

And then anger.

“That bastard, incapable of following simple instructions.”

And now, she couldn’t die; he had killed himself to help her. While she was scheming to become a goddess, he was trying to save her from Garo’s afterlife. And if she died without repaying him, what would that make her?