even if you have no reason to _____

“Lucian…”

Zane took a step forward. “I don’t want you to die.”

“I’m sure many people do, though,” Lucian said. “You know, Vitaism and Xitalism are the biggest faiths in Auliam. But there are smaller ones, too, far smaller.”

He hardly needed to wonder what Lucian referred to. “You mean cults?”

“Mhm. And there was one in Orie that tore this city apart. The Observer—a ‘god’ who watched over humanity like a gentle mother and offered blessings in the form of an avatar. My father led it, and I believed in it. But he didn’t.”

Lucian frowned. “He… never did. But he enjoyed the money he wrung from desperate people who craved a sense of community. By the time he faced arrest, he’d swindled and isolated so many people—and I… as The Observer’s Avatar, granted miracles. All magic, just little spells I taught myself. I believed I truly was the avatar of a god, not once, but twice, and both times it was nothing more than a lie for another’s gain. But one lie ensured I wouldn’t have a home anymore. One lie broke my mother into a shambling wreck of herself. And another hurt not just this city, but you, and Shay, and—so many others. When I learned what I had to do to fix everything, I swore I’d throw my life to the gutter if it meant I had half a chance of healing this world of its pain.”

“…Does it have to be you?” Zane said. Lucian didn’t reply. Zane took another step, hands clenched into fists. “Does it have to be you?”

“Why are you asking!?” Lucian pushed Zane away, who grabbed his shoulders and pinned him to the floor. “It—I won’t let it be you!”

“I’m not gonna fucking kill myself! I don’t want you to kill yourself because your dad made you his scapegoat! So what if he used you! So what if he made you do whatever to whoever because he wanted money! You can’t spend the rest of your life making up for his mistakes!”

Zane hit Lucian in the shoulder. “C’mon. You gotta be better than that.”

“This is me being better! I’m trying to fix something for once!”

“Fix it another way!”

“I can’t! I’ve already abandoned the church, I know what must be done to stop Vitam’s pain, there’s nothing else! There’s no other option!”

“There’s always another option!”

“Why—do you care so much?” Lucian held onto Zane’s wrists, not to wrench him off, but just to keep him there. “Stop—just stop…”

Lucian’s protests petered off, mutterings transformed to weak laughter, resignation. “You’re… you’re exactly the hero I wanted to find. Everything about you is so perfect. You won’t even let something so rotten die in peace.”

“You’re not rotten.”

Zane pulled himself off of Lucian, who laid flat against the rooftop. “You’re not.”

Maybe it was selfish of Zane to think so. He didn’t know much about Lucian’s past other than the man’s (biased, if he deigned to add) perspective. But he saw Lucian’s efforts to help people. Back in Udrefaust, and here, despite all his discomfort.

He had a window into Lucian. Maybe another might changed his opinion, but right now, he wanted to believe in the kind Lucian he’d seen all this time.

…Maybe another, better hero would’ve done differently.

But not Zane.

Lucian’s mouth flapped open, then shut.

The skitter of feet on the rooftop echoed against tin and stole their attention; a spark ran across the rooftop, stopping at Zane’s feet. It let out a loud cry. A moment later, a hook tied to a rope flew by Zane’s head and hitched on the edge of the rooftop. He looked down, Shay scrambling up the side of the building.

“Hey, we can come down,” Zane said. “You really don’t gotta do all that.”

“Shut up, I already got the hook up! You know how spot on your throw’s gotta be to make that happen, kid? You gotta get the angle just right! And even then, if the hold’s not good enough, you’ll go plummeting off the side—”

The hook jiggled, and Shay dropped a bit, screaming. After ten minutes, he managed to scramble up to the rooftop.

“All right, so. What’s the situation?”

“Uhhh…”

Zane looked over his shoulder. Lucian wiped his face and looked down, refusing to meet Shay’s gaze. “It’s a lot,” Zane said. “Something you’d better hear from Lucian.”

Lucian brought his knees close, sitting like a child waiting for someone to help him. Zane dragged him to his feet, and with careful climbing, the three managed to get down. Zane threw his cloak on Lucian, and carefully, they inched back to the inn they stayed at.

A few people hung around the entrance. They turned towards the trio, but Lucian’s mother got to them first—she bashed their heads in and pushed the trio inside.

She pressed the frying pan to Zane’s neck like a knife. “So, which one of you hurt my darling boy’s reputation? If you confess, I promise to make it painless.”

“He didn’t do it!” Lucian jumped between them. “He didn’t—um, sorry, we have to talk—”

Before Lucian’s mom caved their skulls in, Lucian pushed Zane up the stairs while Shay followed them, until they finally made it to the safety of their room. Shay barricaded the door for good measure.

“So,” Shay said, panting between words, “What in the heavens happened with you two? You kids find Effie yet?”

…Oh, shit. Zane put his heads in his hands.

“Uh, no, not yet.”

“Then what the shit were you two yelling about up there!? Was it the weird article someone wrote about Lucian? ‘Cause I tell you, I’ve never seen a bigger load of horseshit in my—”

“Wait,” Lucian said, sitting up, “Article?”

Shay snorted, throwing a newspaper on the table. The headline talked about Vitam’s (now former) Avatar and his buried past—the exact past Lucian described to Zane. “This thing. I saw it on the stand outside. Thought maybe it’d say something about our union business, but eh. Maybe tomorrow.”

“…Shit.” Zane punched the wall, leaving a hole behind. “That’s their game. That was the plan.”

“What? Who’s plan?” Shay grimaced. “You’re not telling me it’s true.”

“It’s—”

Zane’s mouth tasted dry, salty. The more he thought about it, the more he pieced it together, the more he saw her.

“It’s the exact kind of thing Addy would do.” Addison, Vitam’s Sadness—and their newest opponent.