Crow trailed off after describing the man’s disappearance, his eyes coming to rest on the ground directly at his feet. Astra found herself wondering why his head was lowered so. Was it mere discomfort at revisiting such an event, or shame at how he’d acted as it unfolded.

A great, boiling mass of shame began to sizzle in her as she realised that in either case, it was her own demands which had led to it. She stomped it out quickly. Astra had been treated like an idiot for a year, she wasn’t going to apologise for getting sick of it.

Suddenly aware of the thick silence, she found herself speaking.

“Thank you, Crow.” She said, staring at the top of her brother’s head and silently willing him to raise his gaze.

Instead, Crow nodded slightly and murmured out a response.

“Whoever that man was, he killed Galad. And he killed all those other people… and he saw them as insects.”

The disgust in his voice was clear, and for the first time in minutes he looked up- revealing a face twisted with hatred.

“I’m not going to let someone like that continue walking around,” he snarled. The savagery of his expression stunned Astra, it felt so out of place on Crow’s features. So wrong. And yet as he spoke more, she came to realise just how worn a fit it was.

“Now I’m not as smart as you are, any of you, but I’m not an idiot. I know that I can’t fight someone capable of magic like that on my own, so I’m going to get an edge before I take him on. Only one I can imagine making much difference is the Eclipse’s Nectar.”

Another curtain of quiet met those words, broken seconds later by the Gemini.

“But you don’t need the Eclipse’s Nectar to do that,” she tried weakly. “You’re one of the most talented mystics I’ve ever met, you’ll probably be an Immortal in five years.”

Crow frowned at that, and Astra was sure she matched his expression.

“Where are you getting that from?” She asked Gemini, not quite able to hide the frantic tone in her voice.

The girl looked shocked as she answered.

“You’re both absurdly talented, isn’t it obvious? God, look at your magic. You haven’t entered your golden years yet and you’re already Sages. I’ve met maybe ten mystics with that much raw power before, and I’ve met almost every mystic of note in Mirandis.”

Ignoring the clear note of pride in the girl’s not-so-subtle brag, Astra found herself suddenly overcome by a feeling of claustrophobia. How could she be so powerful, yet fall so easily to Amelia? She wanted to leave and pummel a punching bag while processing what she’d been told, and it was only her need to hear everything Crow planned that kept her.

“How long do you think it’ll be before I could do something like that man?” Crow asked, a little bit too quickly. The Gemini hesitated before answering.

“Judging by what you described,” she said slowly, “that man was an Avatar level mystic at least. He’s incredibly strong-”

“How long?” Crow repeated, firmer. After a few seconds, the girl answered him almost reluctantly.

“It’s hard to tell exactly, I heard of someone who ascended to Immortality at around twenty…” A sudden apologetic expression overcame her. “But he didn’t go from Fable to Avatar until he was about fifty.”

Astra noticed the intense disappointment on Crow’s face, she imagined it would have been impossible not to. Likewise, however, did she see the utter lack of surprise.

“I don’t have three decades,” her brother said absently. Then, hesitantly, added. “That’s why I need to make sure I win the Nectar, and to do that I can’t afford to miss any more credits. Not a single one.”

“To save everyone the handful of seconds it’d probably take you to notice the obvious, the moron’s planning on taking part in every single one of our tasks from this point onwards.” Unity growled, Crow’s story proving an inferior mitigator for the contempt dripping from his mouth.

The effect his words had on the room was fascinating. The Gemini’s face twisted from pleading to anger, her features creasing as she leaned forwards and reared up to speak. Xeno, on the other hand, simply stared, utterly agape as though she were witnessing some sort of accident.

Unity lay back into his seat, apparently content to watch, and Astra had the sudden urge to scream at her brother all over again, even in spite of what she’d learned. She didn’t, though. After a year he’d finally shared exactly what she’d asked him to, and she wasn’t simply shaken by finally knowing there were no secrets between them.

For months Astra had hated Galad, convinced he’d fled to leave Crow to his fate. It was the unique kind of loathing that could only be mustered to a former hero. He’d never been as close to Astra as he was to Crow, and she’d come to terms with being their uncle’s second favourite years prior, yet finding out the man had abandoned her brother- even after years of seeing his love for him- had filled her with a burning, toxic abhorrence.

Could her hatred have been based on a lie? Astra wanted to believe that it was, or at least part of her did. The part that remembered Galad teaching her how to make sparks with magic as a little girl.

And yet it seemed too simple. Too perfect. A year of needling Crow for answers, and she received one that fulfilled a dream she hadn’t let herself realise she had. Surely the real world didn’t work like that.

In spite of all the evidence, the knights’ report, the confessions, the fact that the only contradicting word came from a traumatised child, she found herself believing that it did. Something about Crow’s eyes, his voice, made her see little room for doubt.

“That’s suicide,” the Gemini said at last. Astra, pulled from the depths of her thoughts, looked up to see Menza’s glare still fixed on Crow. It had lost none of its intensity, if anything the fire behind her cyan eyes had redoubled.

“Only if I get too badly hurt.” Crow countered.

Astra beat the Gemini in answering his statement.

“Of course you’ll get hurt, why in God’s name wouldn’t you? Are you banking on exclusively being sent to compete against the weakest contestants in the Sieve from here on out?”

Crow’s face suddenly began to colour, the light pink his baby-like skin always seemed to have deepened, rapidly approaching bright crimson.

“Well,” he practically muttered, “I think you could all keep me in one piece.”

If it weren’t for the heart-melting sincerity of his proclamation, Astra may have punched him for its naivety.

Even if she had, it would have been a waste of effort. The mocking cackle that Unity let out seemed to have just as much effect on Crow as a fist to the face.

“Eclipse, look at your teammates, Crow.” The artificial jeered. “They can’t even keep themselves in one piece!”

To add emphasis, or perhaps merely cruelty, to his words, the grinning boy gestured to Gem and Astra. She felt her face burn at the sheer callousness of it.

“Why don’t you try and look on the bright side?” She asked. “We gave far better than we got in our match with team Fate, didn’t we? If you keep that performance up, we’ll run out of people to compete against.”

It wasn’t something Astra would have said to most people, and even through the fog of her rage there was an uneasiness about her as she spoke the words. But it wasn’t until she’d finished spitting them out that she felt real guilt.

And even then, it was only the sight of Unity Eden practically flinching at the accusation that drove the feeling home.

Before either of them could say another word, Astra was saved by the Gemini.

“Crow, I’m sorry about what happened to your uncle, and I really hope the bastard responsible gets what’s coming to him, but you’re putting a lot of faith in yourself, us and, frankly, pure chance.”

“I know,” he answered solemnly. “And I wouldn’t, if I had any other choice. But I don’t. Galad was my friend, more than that. I’m not going to let his killer get away without facing justice.”

The intensity in his gaze shocked Astra, and frightened her. Cautiously, she began to speak.

“I’m sorry Birdie, but I won’t let you kill yourself.”

“I think he should be allowed to.”

All eyes turned to Xeno, who turned her gaze to meet each of them in turn- revealing an unyielding focus not far from Crow’s.

“If he gets too injured, we can always pull him out, and if he does luck out then… Well, that’ll be great.”

“So what you’re suggesting is putting him in as many as we can until such time as his limbs fall off, neat. And what if we want to actually win?” Unity snarled. Unusually, Xeno didn’t blink in the face of his vitriol.

“I’m suggesting that this isn’t all or nothing, there’s a middle ground and I don’t see what we all have to lose from taking it.”

The artificial scoffed acidically at that.

“Well, I know you stand to gain Crow’s gratitude.”

At the sight of a bright blush exploding across Xeno’s face, his grin widened.

“There it is,” he continued. “You were planning on getting Crow on your side by supporting his dumb idea, so he’d feel too guilty not to go along with your own. Fucking classic.”

“That’s enough.” Gem snapped, voice as severe as a schoolteacher’s. “Can we just stop pretending like any of us can change one another’s minds and hurry up to the vote? I have far better things to do than watch you all squabble and try to bite one another’s throats out.”

“I think we should take some more time to discuss this,” Astra tried. She was quickly spoken over by Unity.

“Fuck that, let’s just cut to the chase and nip this numb-headed idea in the bud. I vote against it.”

Before Astra could attempt to further argue, Xeno chipped in.

“I vote in favour,” the girl mumbled.

“I vote against,” Gem sighed, almost reluctantly as she glanced at Crow. “Sorry.”

All eyes turned to Astra, and she realised that the final decision rested with her. If she sided with Xeno, it would be two in favour and two against. Crow, of course, would push that up to three for allowing his plan.

Meeting those green, pleading eyes, Astra swallowed, felt her knuckles absently tighten on her knees and spoke perhaps the hardest words of her life.

“I’m against it.”

She turned away from Crow, unable to make herself face his response so shortly after denying him. He would either look at her with justified disdain, or calm understanding. Astra was hard pressed to decide which would be worse.

“Please reconsider,” Crow said. There was an undeniable feebleness to his voice, as though his team’s decision had acted as a suffocating blanket for the fire he’d shown earlier.

“We already voted on it,” Unity barked. “The answer is no, if you want to kill yourself you’ll need to find some other method.”

There was a crack in the artificial’s tone as he finished speaking, and when Astra glanced up at him, she caught a single glimpse of his face before he turned it away from everyone’s sight. It was enough that she held no doubt as to the presence of the glistening tear in his eye.

“Is this you trying to be better?” Crow asked, suddenly stern as he faced Unity. Though the artificial didn’t meet his eye, his words carried every bit the challenge of getting to his feet and staring.

“Yeah it is. Good people don’t let their friends die for no reason, right?”

Crow fell silent once more.

***

As he watched his teammates get up and begin to move away, Crow found himself overcome by an irrational urge to call them back. To try and further reason with them, make them understand the importance of his task.

He couldn’t bring himself to. Not after they’d all sat down and listened to him go on and on. Not knowing that they’d all voted the way they had for his own good.

Lying back on the sofa, he closed his eyes for a moment. Hours of anxiety as to whether or not his story would be able to convince them had evaporated in an instant. In a way it was oddly relieving, even if it was all over because of his failure.

Of course, there was still a certain tension in his gut. One he knew wouldn’t go away, no matter what.

For all his talk of honesty and trust, he’d still lied. Nothing he did would change that. Perhaps his team’s refusal to agree was some karmic retribution, doled out by the Teary Eyed God. Sighing, Crow straightened back up, his moment of rest ruined.

No. Whether he was facing bad luck, a consequence of his lie or some divine punishment from above, he couldn’t tell Astra the truth. No matter how much he wanted to, how much the memory of those swirling crimson clouds, his uncle’s glowing cyan eyes and whispered warning not to follow seemed to eat away at him as he kept them to himself.

Galad had been taken from him, kidnapped by that bastard. His will bent against itself, his body no longer under his own command. Crow couldn’t imagine a worse fate than that. And he had no intention of leaving his uncle to it.

Nor did he have any intention of letting it reach the ears of anyone else.

He thought of Astra, the warm smile she’d shown upon finally hearing what she thought was the true account of Serasis’ events. The thought of letting her know that her uncle was trapped and in danger broke Crow’s heart.

He would die before seeing her forced onto the same path as him by obligation to a loved one.