in which the villain learns about the power of friendship

One of Topaz’s favorite operas involved the demon king, which was why he knew about the legend in the first place. In it, the protagonist wanted to be a dancer, but her parents didn’t approve of it, so she danced alone in the woods.

On a day like any other, she returned to a razed village. Oh, no! The demon king had returned! So long as evil existed, so would he, though he and his army could be temporarily defeated when a chosen one arose to defeat him. Out of revenge, the girl sought to slay him, but the spear that only the chosen could wield did not respond to her. Why? Because she was some peasant nobody. Why would it choose her?

Yet instead of giving up, the girl trained, discovered the power of friendship, and slayed the demon king once and for all. To clarify, she defied fate by killing god. The battle between good and evil was part of the world’s natural cycle: whenever civilization stalled, the demon king would rise; the world would unite against peril; a hero would rise from the ashes to save it. While this brought forth periods of abundance, it left behind a trail of grief. This was, according to the demon king, inevitable, and he was just doing his part. The girl didn’t care and killed him anyway. He had destroyed everything she loved.

And with this, the cycle came to an end. The girl and her comrades became rich and famous. She married the prince. Hurray! Too bad that she’d spent years with nothing but revenge in mind; without the demon king, she was empty. To kill did not bring her loved ones back to life. She was too old, too busy to fulfill her childhood dream.

The play ended with her returning to the woods to dance one last time before… well, that last part was left up to interpretation.

As a child, Topaz had never understood why people cried as the curtain fell. Once, he’d asked a stranger beside him and had received the following response: “You’re too young to be here.”

True—he was probably the only boy in his neighborhood who went to the theater instead of playing in the mud. Then again, could children not grieve? How many had held a parent’s cold hand until they, too, had succumbed to it?

However, he got it now: it was one thing to mourn and another to regret.

He got it now.

“There’s hot water in the shack,” Topaz told Pebble and Alpherson. “Snacks, too. Go warm yourselves up.”

Predictably, neither of them budged. “What will you do?” Pebble asked.

“Piss.”

“No, seriously.”

“I won’t run away, if that’s what you’re trying to get at. I just…”

“Saint Pebble,” Alpherson said. “Let’s give him space.”

And because this was a sensible request, she ignored it. “Until when will you stay here? What will you do with the bodies? What are you planning to—”

“Saint Pebble.”

“...fine.” Still, this wasn’t enough: she placed two fingers before her eyes, then turned them towards Topaz as if to say I see you. No, she did not. She turned around after that, followed by Alpherson, soaked with freezing rain, failing not to show how much she was shivering.

“Ah, right,” Topaz mumbled to no one. “I forgot…”

The temperature plummeted whenever he overused ice magic. He’d long since grown numb to it, and it wasn’t as though his friends could complain, being dead and everything. Dead. Gone. Forever. That was it.

After taking a deep breath and watching the vapor swirl vanish, Topaz went home. It was a quaint little thing, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a kitchen-diner. Topaz had told the family of four he’d killed that he’d take good care of it. (Kidding. He’d bought it.)

“Ow!” whined the god from one of said bathrooms. “Who heated this!? Pebble!? Are you trying to help or cook me!?”

Pebble sat on a couch, hugging a cushion. “Shut up.”

Topaz’s friends stood around the house, staring at nothing, waiting for orders. “Let’s go,” he told them.

Immediately, she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. “Where?”

“None of your business. Is Alpherson with Awawa?”

“Nah. He’s, uh…” she waved her hand at the kitchen, where Alpherson had slipped on an apron to brew tea.

“...well. Wait, so Awawa is alone? In a tub? Did you forget that he was bleeding earlier?”

“Because of you, yeah.”

“Are you stupid?”

She groaned. “He’s a god. He’ll be fine. I’ve seen him regenerate from a single thumb.”

And with that disturbing mental image, Topaz herded his friends out of the house. Hopefully Alpherson would brew tea for him, too.

Due to leftover magic, the incessant rain had turned into sleet. “Great,” he said. “Well, at least that’ll make it easier to find something to dig with.”

Ice pails would break, of course, but chunks of ice were surprisingly durable when mixed with dirt.

“Garnet.”

He gave her a makeshift pail.

“Dig.”

Though the surrounding mines had been abandoned for decades, there was little to no foliage. He had to craft an ice umbrella, then sit on a rock under it. It was as comfortable as it sounded.

“Beryl.”

He gave him a makeshift pail.

“Dig.”

“Dig.”

“Dig.”

Soon, Topaz rested his head on his hand, elbow against his knee, watching his friends for the last time.

“Or I could leave you guys in the shack.”

They dug.

“Like, if I could convince the god to write an illusion talisman, I could place it on the wall, right? And then our home would vanish from view.”

That was all they could do.

“You guys wouldn’t have to do anything aside from wait.”

And wait.

And wait.

And if he were to die…

One of them kept hitting a rock, so Topaz had to tear it off the ground, then adjust her stance. She kept digging even while he did this.

“...or not. I don’t know.” He stood beside her. The sleet stung his face. “It’d be nice if one of you could say ‘Topaz, stop, I’m still in here! I want to live!’, but you won’t. I know that. I know I’m talking alone. I’ve been alone for years. I’ll be alone again. That’s all I’m good for.”

Some of them took longer than others, so Topaz had them work together one last time. It was nice.

“But… yeah. It’d be nice if one of you could talk, that’s all. Just, you know. Say goodbye and stuff.”

Due to the mud, he had to help some of them lie down.

For the last time, he held their hands.

For the last time, he closed their eyes.

For the last time, he saw their faces.

“Just… something. Anything. Please.”

But he was talking alone. He would be alone again, and there was nothing he could do about it.

As he helped Beryl down the place where he’d rest for eternity, Topaz found himself asking, “Hey, can you smile?” but this wasn’t a direct order, so he had to rephase: “Smile. Please.”

Beryl did.

No—his body. There was nothing in those eyes. He wasn’t even looking at Topaz.

“Can you… I mean, look at me.”

Nothing. The concept of ‘me’ implied reasoning.

“...never mind.”

Topaz sat beside him. For a while, he hummed. The original plan had been to sing, but the last thing he wanted was to summon Pebble and her pack of frauds by accident. Then again, they’d help him finish the job.

By himself, he covered Beryl, then Garnet, then had to stop because something warm stung his cheeks. It didn’t matter, though. There was a job to finish, and a life to live, and a lifetime to regret.

Goodbye.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

Those were common parting words, weren’t they?