But he saved us. He didn't have to. He could have made a run for it on his own. The demons probably wouldn't have chased him if he didn't have me. He could have gotten away and livedin obscurity. He chose to rescue us. Chose to right his many wrongs. Certainly, that counts for something.
"I am not asking you to forgive him," I say, which surprises them both. "I am asking you give him a chance to fight for his life. To fight for what little honor might be restored to him."
"You want fate to decide?" The General strokes his beard, considering my proposal.
"If he dies, he dies," I say simply. "If he lives, then he is to be kept alive as a tool to end this war."
"The spirit of Enver Sol lives on in you." The General smiles. "I will agree to your terms, but he will fight a creature in the arena for all to see. No weaponry. Just his magic may be used to defend himself."
Although we are coming to an agreement, Bastian's chances of survival are plummeting the longer we speak.
"Agreed," I bob my head. "We will let fate decide."
I walk down into the dungeon where Bastian is being held. He's tossing something against the wall and doesn't look up when I round the corner.
"I take it by your somber footsteps the meeting with General Naziri did not go well," his voice comes out as a barely-there rasp.
He still hasn't dared a glance my way, but I press myself against the prison bars and exhale. I'm not here delivering good news. "I tried to help you, Bas, but –"
"I know you did, Shaye." He finally looks up at me, and I stifle a gasp. His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks sunken. My gaze darts to the plate of food brought to him this morning, and it's not been touched. He's purposely starving himself.
"Bas – "
"What is my sentence?" He interrupts.
I bury the emotions surprisingly flooding me. "You will fight for your life in the arena tomorrow. You will not be granted weaponry, but you will be allowed your magic. Should you win, you'll be kept alive to help us defeat Drogon. Should you lose…"
Bastian nods when I don't finish, understanding clearly what I'm ardently trying to avoid saying. "So," he sighs, "they will leave my future in fate's hands."
"They accused you of war crimes and according to their law – "
"I am guilty of war crimes," he says so calmly it sends a shiver down my spine.
"Bas – "
"There's no arguing against it, Shaye. I'm guilty. I deserve death." Tears well in his eyes, and he swallows hard. "I wish I could say I was not myself when I committed atrocities against countless people, but I can't. I was the ugliest version of myself, and I hate it."
I grip the bars tightly. "Maybe you are guilty, but you saved me and Nyx when it counted most. That means something, Bas."
He scoffs and shakes his head, scratching at the stubble growing along his jawline. "It counts very little in the grand scheme of things. I'm the reason you needed saving. I'm the reason your friend was tortured. I'm the reason you…" He swallows hard, refusing to meet my line of sight. "You think I can be forgiven for my sins?" He rests the back of his head against wall. Strands of blonde hair falls over his forehead. He swallows hard, the ball in his neck bounces. "The truth of the matter is I will die here, Shaye. Better to accept that now."
I frown and smack the prison bars, the sound echoes through the dark hallway. "You will not die here, Bastian. Don't you dare give up. You will fight; do you hear me? You will fight and you will live."
"I do not deserve to live!" He leaps to his feet with unnatural speed. Fury emanates from him to the point a tear stains my cheek. "Fate will find me guilty."
"You are not a quitter – "
"Even if I win tomorrow – defeat whatever horrendous and nightmarish creature they can muster – they will not permit me to walk out of Vashbehtan." He presses his forehead against the bars, and a tear slides down his cheek. I'm tempted to wipe it away and comfort him, but I keep my hands to myself. "I've committed unspeakable evils, yes. But I'm also Midorian. The Naziris will not forgive that," he whispers.
"I will not abandon you here."
"You won't have a choice." His eyes meet mine and my soul shatters. "I would rather die quickly in the arena then rot away in a prison cell until old age claims me." His face is close to mine. He reaches his hand through the bars to swipe a tear from my cheek. Memories of the sweet boy I grew up with flood me and draw a small whimper from me. "Youmust live, Shaye. Get back to Midori. Find a way to undo all the wickedness I've unleashed."
I wrap my fingers around his hand. "I will not leave you. I might not love you the way I once did, but I will not watch you die."
"There's no saving me now," he whispers, accepting his fate. His fingers twist in my hair with a crack of a smile as if fondly recalling some distant memory. "Could you please find it in your heart not to be stubborn about this?" His blue eyes soften.
I shake my head, lip wobbling. "Bas – "
