She sat in a dark room, heads buried in her hands, with the smell of damp straw and the sound of dripping water assaulting her senses. A mass of tangled brunette hair framed her ragged face as she breathed, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as she did so – feeling everything. From the tiniest scratch on her cheek to the agonizing pain that travelled through her left arm when she moved, Lilja felt it all. She felt the forces of grief and turmoil weigh down heavily on her shoulders, like a burden that could never be removed, and wondered if eventually she would be crushed into nothingness by the heaviness of her heart.

Her mother had once told her that the key to a successful life was to be "the kindest girl that you could ever be." At the memory of her mother's words, Lilja wanted to scoff, but the dryness of her throat prevented her from doing so. Kindness hadn't prevented Chanel, Surmyr, and Alyra's deaths. Kindness hadn't prevented the country of Castre to be ravaged and destroyed by seemingly ceaseless wars. Kindness hadn't even secured her own personal safety – for though she had signed her loyalty over to Vaxon in return to save Visaraenar's life, Lilja had discovered that the evil dictator who had tormented her for so long was finally dead. She had received the news with mixed emotions – on one hand, there was a sense of justice finally done in Vaxon's demise, but yet on the other, there was a feeling of worry about what would become of her and Visaraenar. Technically, she was a traitor. Thus, was currently being held in a cell until the Supreme Council of Magi – or the SCM for short – decided her fate.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps from outside of her tiny prison caught Lilja's attention, and she turned her head to see a guard standing outside of the heavy metal door, peering through the bars. Judging by his uniform, Lilja hypothesized that he had once been a man loyal to Vaxon, but had surrendered to the Magi once the castle was taken. Despite herself, her battered heart softened at the sight of his wan face – perhaps he had been forced into a situation much like hers, given the choice to either yield to the Magi forces or lose a loved one.

As Lilja stood and the door opened, the girl squinted at the harsh ray of light that shone through the doorway. After spending at least four days – after the fifth day, she had lost count – in the darkness of the cramped cell, the sight of sunlight stung her unaccustomed eyes. in a mediocre attempt to make herself look more presentable, Lilja soothed down the wrinkles in her tattered dress and raked a hand through her hair – only for her fingers to get stuck in the numerous stubborn snarls. With a start, she realized that she couldn't even remember when was the last time that she had a bath of some sort. Was it before Vaxon had kidnapped them, back at camp? That had been...what? Six? Seven? Eight days ago? Lilja attempted to do the math but failed, for whenever she tried to think back, the days blended into one big blur of scattered memories.

"Lilja Svana," the guard stood erect, head lifted as his electric-blue eyes stared deep into Lilja's weary, tired brown ones. "Your presence is requested at the Court of Law, established by the Supreme Council of Magi, governed by His Royal Majesty Kyren Asherex of Castre. He will be accompanied by his faithful and loyal judges, Magi –"

"Stop," she lifted up one hand weakly, letting out a series of breathy laughter as she did so. The guard cocked his head at her, clearly confused about why she was laughing. In all honestly, Lilja was too. Yes, she had known for a while now that Kyren Asherex had been made King of Castre until the siege from the remainder of Vaxon's army ended. She knew she should have felt anger and perhaps even fear, that the one who plunged the tip of his sword into Surmyr and Alyra's bodies was now going to be the one that determined what would become of her.

Perhaps the thing that made her laugh the most was because there was an underlying sense of irony in the situation – Kyren had been the antagonist of the fight, the "bad guy", and now he was the most powerful man in the kingdom. Lilja, on the other hand, was on the side of angels – the "good guy". And here she was, sitting in a cell, awaiting to fear if whether or not she would be executed for treason. Oh fate, she thought. How it loves to play games. She focused her attention on the guard again, and softly said, "Please just take me to the court."

The guard visibly hesitated, considering her words, before giving the scraggly girl a nod and ordering, "Follow me." Without a word, the man turned and marched out of the room and stopped at the hallway. As Lilja exited her cell, still trying to get used to the sunlight, she noticed how his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. She was tempted to tell him that there was no need for that – she was malnourished, wounded, and wouldn't be capable of running more than two meters. She may be a traitor, but she wasn't an idiot. Lilja knew that following the guard quietly would be in her best interests – and that was exactly what Lilja did. She walked, rather shakily, beside the guard as he led her up from the musky dungeon and through countless twisting, turning corridors.

And as Lilja walked, she thought.

And as she thought, she remembered.

She remembered the dull thud that reverberated around the clearing when Surmyr's majestic body hit the ground. She recalled the brightness of the blood that spurted from Alyra's neck. She recollected the way her arms had strained underneath the weight of Chanel's corpse, and how cold her sister's skin became after death stole her soul away.

She remembered how she'd failed every single one of them – how she'd failed her family.

The guard came to a halt at a pair of elegantly crafted mahogany doors that stretched high upwards to the ceiling, which Lilja guessed was the courtroom where her trail would take place. She expected that the guard would lead her in to make sure she didn't escape, but to Lilja's surprise, the man did not say a word and just heaved open one of the heavy doors. What she saw in the courtroom made her jaw drop open in shock, for instead of a typical courtroom with the judge before her and the persecution and witnesses on the side, there was an oval-shaped room that was dimly lit by a number of flickering torches. In the center, a large wooden table sat, its polished surface never invisible to Lilja's eyes because of the numerous scrolls, ink bottles, pens, and books that lay scattered over the tabletop. However, the contents of the room were not the most surprising feature. No, it was the eleven – twelve including her – battle-scarred Magi surrounding the table that had Lilja looking around in confusion.

"What's going on?" She trembled slightly underneath the twelve pairs of irises that flickered her way at the sound of her voice. "What's happening?"

"Lilja," someone said from someplace behind her, in a deep, gravelly voice that she knew all too well. As Lilja whirled around, she stood staring deep into the pale blue irises of Kyren himself, and once more visions of him murdering Surmyr and Alyra flashed through her mind. Her breathing hitched and she clenched her fists – though when Lilja did so, a sharp pain shot up her shoulder when she moved her injured arm. She winced, and noticed how Kyren looked her up and down, taking in her ragged appearance. He did not say anything, but Lilja could sense something there – a subtle emotion of pity for her. While her blood boiled in anger, Kyren turned to the guard and said in a collected voice, "Thank you. You may leave."

The guard nodded and did as he was told, scurrying out of the room like a mouse from a cat.

As the door slammed shut, the entire room was engulfed in complete and utter silence. She scanned the room and saw Eiridian and Jaeyria standing side by side, with Kalix sitting on a chair next to them, head in hands. Aelia leaned on the walls in the corner, arms crossed as she glazed at Lilja, dark blue eyes filled to the brim with hurt and betrayal. Lilja could practically hear the accusation in her voice. Why did you not help us? Why did you betray us? Why did you surrender to Vaxon after all that he'd done?

She wanted to reply and explain her actions, but her words were stuck in her throat. However, the intensity crackling in the air was swiftly broken when Kyren walked forward to the head of the table and took a seat. He was still dressed in his battle gear, with his sword hanging by his side – dirt and grime was smeared on his face, and dark bags hung underneath his eyes. Indeed, Kyren had also suffered from the after-effects of the battle with Vaxon, but though he was on their side now, Lilja could not find it in her heart to forgive him.

As she watched, unmoving and still, Kyren cleared his throat and gazed at the Magi around the room before stating, "I've called you all here for a very important reason. As you all know, Vaxon is..." he paused and swallowed hard, as if a couple of thorns were stuck down his throat and preventing him from speaking. "Vaxon is dead. However, Komesen is still under siege from Vaxon's loyalists, and I need all of your help as to how to end the war. All of you," Kyren repeated, and Lilja felt his gaze shift to land on her. "No matter what choice you made, I need all of your support."

Every word that left Kyren's lips were nothing but a meaningless mumble to Lilja's ears – things that she heard but made no sense. In her mind, the bodies of Surmyr, Alyra and Chanel flashed before her on repeat, and before long her vision was tinged with red. It was only when Visaraenar's body joined the rest when something inside of her snapped in half – the rope that restrained her broke, and left the fire inside of her to rage unattended.

As Kyren was asking around for some suggestions, two words left Lilja's lips in the form of a disgusted snarl, "You murderer." Her eyes blazed with fury as the room immediately lapsed into silence again, but this time, instead of squirming underneath her fellow Magi's gazes, Lilja stood up straighter and took a step forward closer to Kyren. "You fucking murderer."

Never in her life had she remembered herself swearing before – cussing had always been Chanel's department – but since kindness and goodness had done nothing but cause grief in her life, Lilja was ready to throw it all away. Maybe in a way, Vaxon was right. Maybe, in some cases, evil was the better choice.

No, Lilja! What are you thinking?! Are you an idiot? If you're supporting the dark side, then you are a real traitor!

I don't care.

What are you talking about? Think of Chanel. Think of Surmyr and Alyra. They died for the sake of good. Supporting evil would have caused them to die in vain!

Kyren killed them. Kyren killed them all.

But –

"You killed them all!" the words tore itself from her throat in the form of an animalistic wail, as Lilja threw herself forward despite her injured arm at Kyren. Almost immediately, the spell of silence and motionlessness that had been casted over the room was broken, and several Magi rushed forward to restrain her. She, however, had gained the lead by a second or two – and a second or two was all that Lilja needed.

The two of them crashed together with the force equivalent to that of a freight train, and one that was going at full speed, that is. Needless to say, both of them toppled to the ground like a set of dominoes, Lilja hitting the floor first and baring the blunt of the blow for Kyren, who fell onto her with a surprise grunt. Briefly, her vision swam and ears rang with birdsong, until her good hand latched onto Kyren's mass of hair and began to yank his dark brown curls this way and that, shrieking all the while.

"You killed them!" She screamed, "You killed Chanel! You killed Surmyr! You killed Alyra! You killed everyone!" She felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and begin to drag her off of Kyren's body, where she was held in an iron grip as Lilja wailed and howled and cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. As her vision blurred, she saw someone help Kyren to his feet – a brief feeling of satisfaction flared inside of her at the sight of a trail of crimson trickling down from Kyren's nose. Like a wildcat plunged in water, Lilja thrashed in the grip of the person holding her back, continuing to scream in a scathing tone, "You murderer! You killer! How dare you call yourself King?! How dare you, Kyren Asherex!" She kicked out with both of her feet blindly, and though she was drastically off-target, the pained look on Kyren's face acted as an incentive for her to continue, "Answer me that!"

"We should take her back to the cells," she heard someone whisper in a worried tone. "She's gone mental."

Have I? Am I mad?

Frankly, Lilja didn't care about that any more. She didn't care about Castre or the Magi or Kyren or the future of the world. She didn't care about herself, or even Visaraenar – if the colt was even still alive. Lilja hadn't heard anything about the young Pegasus she had tried so desperately to save. Although many times, in her cell, she had injured about Visaraenar's wellbeing, no information was ever delivered to her.

He's dead, isn't he? Her throat constricted with emotion at the thought. He has to be dead. That's why they aren't telling me. He's dead. Visaraenar's dead. Surmyr's dead. Alyra's dead. Chanel's dead.

"They're all dead," she whispered softly, as more hot tears prickled the back of her eyes. "They're all dead..."

"Lilja," the hands that were previously holding her released her, and she dropped into a crumbled heap on the ground, no energy left inside of her to stand. A murmuring crowd gathered around Lilja's trembling body, but only one actually knelt down and looked deep into her pained eyes, and that was Kyren Asherex. Despite his bleeding nose, his dark eyes held so much grief and loss that it matched hers, and for the first time in her life, Lilja Svana looked up at Kyren Asherex with something else rather than hatred in her heart. "Lilja," he repeated, and his voice was so soft that only she could hear it. He took her hands in his and murmured, "I lost my loved ones too." All at once, she was reminded of how Kyren's wife and son were also killed by Vaxon – but instead of surrendering like she had, he had stood firm to his faith. He had lost those he loved too. He also carried a burden.

As she realized that fact, Kyren continued, his gaze never wavering. "But we have to help others. We cannot let innocents suffer the same pain as we, do you understand?"

Chanel.

Surmyr.

Alyra.

Visaraenar.

One by one, their faces flashed before her eyes, but this time they were not covered in blood and instead, were all alive and well. Chanel's beaming smile as they ate an apple in the wheat field. Surmyr's wisdom and grace that he always radiated, and Alyra's curt words and sharp tongue. Visaraenar's soft nicker, and his gentle brown eyes.

I love you.

"Lilja," said Kyren, and for the first time, Lilja truly looked at him back, full in the face. "You have to stop running."

This time, there was no hesitation from her end, as Lilja nodded her head in a meek reply, whispering, "I'm not going to run."

Far away, in the distance, she thought she heard four combined voices reply in harmonious sync:

We love you too.