Raizia woke up surrounded by darkness.

She sat up—but didn't make it very far. Her forehead slammed into something hard.

"Ow!" she cried, reaching up to rub her head—but then her hand brushed against something.

It took her a second to realize she was in a very small space, and another second to recall the last thing that had happened to her.

We were in the graveyard... We banished the dark spirit... And then there was chanting...

Suddenly she realized what was going on.

"No. No, no!" she said, hands reaching out in front of her, tracing the hard box she had been placed in. She banged on the wood, but it didn't budge; if anything, a few specks of dirt trickled in through the tiny cracks at the edges of the coffin.

I'm being buried alive. Buried alive.

Her heart started racing. Her breaths came quickly, one after the other—but she forced herself to slow down.

Easy. I can't waste oxygen by hyperventilating.

It was so dark that she couldn't see a thing. But now that she had calmed herself down, she realized she could hear something.

She turned, pressing her ear to the wood, helping the sound from the above-world transmit.

After a few seconds of listening, she realized there must be a large crowd of people above her. She couldn't make out individual voices, but instead heard a cacophony of sound.

A gathering to witness my execution. Of course. Wonderful.

Suddenly, she thought of Aris. What had happened to him? Had he been captured as well? Was he also being punished, forced into another box in the ground?

No. Aris is too close to the King, and too high up in the leadership. They wouldn't do that to him, even if he had been consorting with a necromancer.

Raizia clenched her teeth. She needed to get out of this coffin. Otherwise, she would be dead—and unlike the other two times, this would be permanent.

"Come on, magick," she whispered, placing her hands on the coffin lid. "I've practiced with Aris all this time... please tell me I can do it on my own now."

She focused on her greatest desire—getting out of this coffin—and began to form the words of a spell. "Leshae... mytae... ooloo... viate..." She felt her magick well up inside her, warm and ready to be used. It traveled through her chest, snaking down her arms, through her wrists, into her hands—but then it stopped, refusing to flow out.

No, come on, she urged, focusing harder, chanting more loudly, pressing her hands against the wood with more of her strength. Destroy this coffin. Get me out of here. Get me out of here!

Yet despite her frantic pleadings, her magick still refused to come out.

Raizia's hands fell to her side. The chant died on her lips. And her eyes welled with tears. Shit, she thought. This is it. This is how I die.

Despite the fact that she had died before, she had never dwelled on the thought of eventually dying for good. It seemed far away, the curse of being young. She had once assumed that over the years she would slowly crumble away, losing pieces of herself with rogue spells, until she was nothing but a husk anyway, ready to enter the darkness that came after a long life of necromancy.

But now, for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like an empty husk. Her life had started to mean something again. She had something—and someone—to live for.

She closed her eyes, thinking of Aris. It was hard to recall the soldier who had first come into her life a few weeks ago: a mix of nervous energy and oddly-placed stoicism. And then she thought of the man she had gotten to know, the one who made her laugh, and her skin tingle, and helped her use her powers when she thought she would never be able to cast again.

Too bad he's not here, she thought, wishing she had his hand in hers. Then she would be able to cast. Then they'd be unstoppable.

Raizia paused, a hiccup caught in her throat as an idea crossed her mind. What if...

She wiped at her tears, replacing her hands on the coffin lid. One more time, she thought.

She re-focused her mind, not only on the wood beneath her hands, but also on Aris, the man she had fallen in love with.

She re-started her spell. "Leshae... mytae... ooloo... viate..." Only this time, as the words flowed from her mouth, she thought of Aris' face, his warm arms, the way he kissed her neck and smiled over a shared cup of tea after a long day of casting.

She thought of him and willed her magick forward.

Fifteen minutes had passed since the necromancer had been buried, and the crowd remained, waiting for her to die.

It was an odd atmosphere. Most of the gatherers in the crowd chatted amongst themselves as they waited, as if this were a festival instead of an execution.

Aris meanwhile felt numb. He couldn't do anything except pray that Erran was right—that perhaps this would be a quick, painless death. He glanced to his right; the king was reclining in a seat on the stage, staring at the burial plot, keeping vigil along with the rest. His skin glimmered in the sunlight, reflecting the protection spells woven around his thin frame.

Aris turned his gaze back to the burial plot, and the fresh dirt just a few feet below him. I'm sorry for failing you, Raizia, he thought to himself. I'm so sorry.

Suddenly, he felt something well up inside of him. At first he thought it was a strong emotion—perhaps a biologic response to the grief that had been plaguing his mind for the past hour. But then he recognized the feeling: magick.

Raizia's magick.

How...? Aris thought, then realized what was happening. Raizia's awake in there. And she's trying to cast something through me... to set her free.

They had never tried something like this before. Every time Aris had cast with her, not only had they been holding hands, but Raizia had given him specific instructions: focus on this, do this hand symbol... Now she wasn't here to tell him what to do. And yet her magick was pulsing through his blood, giving him the opportunity to do something. And he couldn't pass up on this opportunity.

He looked at the burial plot. I know what I want, he thought. He didn't have a spell. He didn't have a hand symbol. But he had brute will. And he knew what he wanted.

He felt the magick in his hand, tickling his fingers, making his flesh glow. He extended his arm towards the burial plot below him. As he did, the King glanced at him—and then his eyes widened. "Aris!" Erran shouted, scrambling to his feet. "What are you—"

But it was too late. With a loud bang, the coffin shot out of the ground, flying into the air, sending a spray of grave dirt out with it. And then the coffin shattered as if it were made of glass, shooting splinters of wood out in every direction.

One splinter struck the king in the face, drawing a thin line of blood across his cheek, but Aris didn't have time to pay that any heed. His eyes were on Raizia, who had managed to break free from the coffin, and was standing on the grass unharmed. He jumped off the stage, running to her.

People in the crowd screamed, and the rest of the commanders sprung into action, following Aris. But Aris didn't hesitate. He grabbed Raizia's hands. "Magick!" he shouted. Raizia's eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, but in a split second, she was able to do what Aris had asked, channeling her magick into him more strongly. Aris raised his casting hand, and with the strength of his will, black smoke poured out of his palm. Within seconds, the whole crowd and stage was covered in thick, black smog.

Aris dragged Raizia through the darkness. They bumped into several people in their pursuit, but no one could see enough to know it was them. Aris dragged her all the way to the edge of the park, where the air was only marginally clearer, and together they paused, hiding behind a fountain to catch their breaths.

"Raizia," Aris said, drawing her into a fast, hard kiss. "Gods, I thought I lost you. I really did."

"I can't believe that worked," Raizia said, looking out at the smokey park. "Quick thinking with the smog."

"Thanks, but it won't last for long."

"Here," Raizia said, squeezing his hand. "Let's cast a glamour. Change our appearance so we can get past the guards and out of the inner city."

Aris nodded. He had never cast this before, but right now, he felt invincible. Raizia muttered the incantation, and he focused on the changes. When they were done, Raizia's hair was blonde, and she was wearing a long white dress. Aris couldn't see himself, but he had given himself red hair, blue eyes, and a ton of freckles—he hoped he would be unrecognizable enough.

"Come on," Raizia said, pulling him to his feet.

"Hold on," he said, slipping out of his Commander jacket. Once the black fabric was off, he tossed it into the fountain, and together they left the park.

They wound their way through the inner city streets, all the while trying to look as innocent as possible. Some of the people walking by apparently hadn't heard yet that the necromancer and one of the commanders had gone rogue, but Aris had a feeling that would change soon. Any second now, there would be a proclamation throughout the city, and a price placed on their heads.

Raizia chewed her cheek, and Aris watched as her brows furrowed in worry.

"What's wrong?" Aris asked. "You don't look anything like yourself. They won't catch us."

"Aris, we can't keep a glamour up forever. We have about an hour, max. What are we going to do when this wears off? We have bounties on our heads—you too now, since you helped me escape. We can't hide forever. They'll find us, and they'll kill us. And I doubt they'll choose a pleasant death for us."

Aris was silent for a moment. He had been thinking about this, and he knew there was only one solution. "We're just going to have to leave."

"Leave?" Raizia asked, unable to hide her incredulous tone. "Leave and go where?"

"Anywhere," Aris said. "Just far away from Taaz."

"Aris, you sound ridiculous. We can't just flee. Do you know how hard it will be to start a new life in a new country?"

"Raizia," Aris said, and now he paused and took her hand. "You out of anyone I know should want to leave Taaz. You're a necromancer. You have a rare gift, and you're treated like trash. But there are other places in this world—places that have different customs. And I saw them when I was in the war. In Zirhag, necromancers were revered. They were considered just as important as the priests. We can go there, and we can be happy."

Raizia scrunched her face. "Necromancy... revered? That sounds like a fantasy."

"It's not," Aris said. "I saw it on the battlefield. They worked with the medics. When someone was too far gone to save, the necromancer would come over, help to usher the bodies back to camp. Apparently after the battle, they would bring the soldier back to life, so their living comrades could say goodbye and thank them for their service and sacrifice."

"Zirhag..." Raizia said, tasting the word on her lips. "I never thought of going there... Or leaving Taaz for that matter."

"Or we could go somewhere else. There are other lands, you know. Other places to start anew."

Raizia frowned. "It's just, to leave everything behind... I know I didn't have much here, but Zaidi..."

"I know," Aris said, thinking of his brother, and even—oddly—Erran. "It won't be easy. But if we want to live, we can't stay here. And I think Zirhag is our best bet."

Raizia closed her eyes. Aris could see tears forming in the corners, but then she nodded. She grabbed his hands, leaned up, and kissed him hard on the mouth. He paused, holding her tightly, realizing how ecstatic he was to have her, here, alive, in his arms.

Finally she pulled back. Her eyes, dark and lovely, contrasting against her newly blonde hair, were set. "Okay," she said. "New life. Together. Starting now."

And hand-in-hand, they exited out through the city gates and never looked back.

Tada! That is the end of Broken Pieces. I hope you enjoyed the ending :) I'll probably go back in the next few months and make a few tweaks here and there, but for now, this is where our story ends.

Thank you so much to everyone who has gone on this adventure with me--it's been tough trying to write a novella under a time crunch while working my current job, so I am very proud that I made it to the end. All the votes and comments made me feel so supported, and also pushed me to finish this book on time. So from the bottom of my heart: thank you! This novella is for all of you!

<3 Bdicocco