Octavia didn't descend the bell tower alone, granted. It wouldn't have been the first time. Still, there was a comfort in coming down with another acolyte in tow--for once. Her steps down weren't as shaky as she would've expected, although she recognized the degree to which she was thoroughly numb on her last foray downwards. There was, to the credit of those who had insisted on it, a comfort that came with knowing she would never again have a reason to scale the bell tower. For once, it wasn't her top priority. Her heart had already fallen, shattered, and scattered along every last step of the staircase.

She didn't want to know where Josiah went. It wouldn't have been the first time the truth of the Ambassador's privilege burned someone she loved. She wondered if she'd just made the same mistake twice. She wondered if it was what he'd needed to hear. She was thankful, more than anything, that the Velrose Acolyte respected her sorrow. Even quiet as it was, she knew her hitching sobs were echoing somewhat off every wall. It was enough to make her the slightest bit self-conscious.

Octavia--

She physically shook her head, her braids beating against her tear-stained cheeks. Please. Not right now. Please!

Stratos didn't press her, nor did he offer a reminder of his presence. Octavia didn't have the strength. She didn't have the energy. She didn't know what she needed, nor did she know what she wanted. In that way, perhaps her descent wasn't so dissimilar to that of last time, after all.

Octavia was hardly lucid for the majority of her return, by which she reached the foot of the staircase with relative calm. "Calm", to be fair, was subjective, given the way she still wanted to vomit for a thousand other reasons. She raised one hand to her throbbing head, biting back another round of sobs that came with the mental image of Selena's smile.

"Octavia," she heard a tiny voice offer.

To face Allison, distraught as she was, was a nightmare. It took everything in Octavia's power to keep herself together as she spoke. "Yes?"

The Velrose Acolyte fidgeted shyly, regardless of what little attention round, inquisitive eyes could offer. "Thank you for letting Valkyria go home. Thank you for helping. I'm…really happy I got to meet him. I'll be happy about that for the rest of my life."

For that, too, Octavia wanted to cry. She stumbled over her words. "T-Thank you for…being there for him. And…thank you for helping us with everything. We couldn't have done any of this without you."

Allison took her gratitude with little more than a nod. "I'm happy I could do something to help. I don't…think I understand all of the Ambassador stuff, even if I get most of it. Still, I'm glad I got to be helpful to you. I hope I…did a good job."

Octavia took the little acolyte's hand without hesitation, squeezing gently. "You did amazing. You're wonderful."

"I don't know if they're gonna be happy that Valkyria is gone," she confessed. "I think they're gonna be mad at me."

"We can talk to the clergy, if you want. We can tell them that it was for something important. If they really cared about Valkyria that much, they'd understand."

That was a lie. Knowing what she knew of Velrose and its origins, Octavia strongly doubted the explanation would suffice--genuine or otherwise. More prominently, the idea of interacting with the clergy of her own volition was nauseating in and of itself. It was an empty promise, although it would be more than possible to pass to someone else. She'd already berated River. She'd already broken Josiah. There weren't many options left.

"Do you think they'll still want me to be the acolyte?" Allison asked timidly.

It wasn't a question Octavia could answer. "I…don't know. I-I would think so. They love you. The whole city loves you."

"They love the acolyte that's a Maestra," Allison corrected. "They love the acolyte that rings Valkyrie's Call for them. Without that, will they still want me at all?"

Octavia sighed. "If…they let you leave, you can always come with us, you know. You don't have to stay in Velrose."

Allison shook her head. "I want to be the acolyte. This is…the place mommy loved, and Sonata, too. I want to be able to protect it for them, however I can."

Octavia couldn't help the way her hand found Allison's head, an instinctive gesture of comfort that she only noticed well after it happened. "Remember to be Allison. You're not just the acolyte. You're more than that."

Allison didn't give her a smile in return. The pressure of the girl's body against her own was more than enough, her embrace as hesitant as it was feeble. For as small as she was, her little face pressing up against Octavia's torso was briefly startling. "And you're not just the Ambassador," Allison murmured. "You're Octavia."

Octavia pulled her close, doing what she could to avoid smothering the Strong child. She was content to let silence do the talking. At the foot of the bell tower, with so little for the acolyte to show for her title, it was the Ambassador who was to blame. Even so, not a drop of hostility fell from Allison's lips.

To be comforted by a child well under half her age was disorienting. It didn't matter. She was as warm as the bronze she had attended to so lovingly in the sunshine a thousand times over. Of those cursed to play at an age so tender, Allison was one that Octavia wondered if she'd truly saved in the wake of her responsibilities. Theirs were incompatible.

There were, at least, some actions the Ambassador could still take responsibility for in Velrose. She didn't necessarily need to leave the church.

It wasn't a long walk, although she felt badly for leaving the little acolyte behind in the process. As to what was left for Allison now, her primary objective quite literally having vanished into thin air, Octavia couldn't imagine. Her knowledge of the Velrose Church and all that came with its practices left many, many gaps she didn't wish to fill. It was more so the acolyte's place than her own to navigate the world in which she'd been raised--for better or worse. Octavia had seen enough of the rules and customs she'd needed to see through three sets of eyes, and only one set that she could truly claim as her own.

She halfway wished she would've paid more attention to the layout of the actual church, for whatever that was worth. Wandering by herself, even for relatively short distances, was unsettling. She knew where she was going, somewhat. Part of her wished she didn't have to.

The quarters they'd been graciously provided were largely adjacent to one another--both a blessing and a curse, in terms of noise control. It wasn't as though anyone was particularly loud during the evenings, when the time came, and Octavia was grateful that the vast majority of the Maestros had the common courtesy to practice well outside of their rooms. It still left stragglers, sometimes. She wasn't immune to the speckled handful of stray notes that slipped beneath at least two different doors on her way to the only room of interest.

Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, unfortunately. Each muffled song was at least a slight offset to her approach. She had that much. It was enough of a distraction that it took her a moment to remember exactly which room, for how excitedly its Maestra had disappeared within on the eve of their perilous descent. Octavia would've rather have heard her notes in passing, soft as they'd surely be, versus anyone else's. She'd be lucky if she heard them again at all anytime soon.

She knocked, praying that her guess sufficed. It was the second time she'd worried about searching for the same girl in the wrong place, and the thought was ironically nostalgic. Octavia held her breath.

"Come in. You don't have to knock."

Her voice was weak, heartbreakingly so relative to the spunk Octavia had long since grown used to. The Ambassador didn't shirk the invitation for a moment, anxious as she was to cross the threshold. Where she could only find the tiniest wave, the Maestra whose temporary shelter she intruded on offered her far too soft a smile.

"Hey there, Heartful. Took you long enough."

It was all Octavia could do to try to return the same, unstable and wobbly as her own smile was. "H-Hey. How are you…feeling?"

Mina's grin, feeble yet true, was much more welcome. "Never better."

Her words were doubtful, given the way she struggled just to sit up in the bed. With her glasses folded neatly atop the nightstand, her hair devoid of the cute clips Octavia had come to appreciate, and devoid of a grin so vibrant, she could've passed for a different person. Never since they'd met had she seen Mina so frail and vulnerable, even as her bold words sought to boost what her fragile voice couldn't. Octavia wrung her hands together, resisting the urge to wince at the sight.

"Are you in…any pain?" she asked nervously.

Mina shook her head. "Not really, just tired. It's annoying. Sick of bein' stuck in this stupid bed. I wanna get the hell out of here already."

Octavia's heart chuckled on her behalf. "You and me both."

"Tell you what, though, we kicked some ass down there," Mina continued with far more satisfaction. "It felt real good to get to fight like hell for once. Hate to say it, Heartful, but it was fun. Well, like, some of it. Not all of it, obviously."

Octavia bit her lip. She hesitated to bring it up. She figured the topic would arise eventually, and she was correct. Of her own accord, Mina mentioned it herself, flopping her head back against the pillows with mild exasperation.

"Never almost died before, so that was new. I…guess I got carried away. That was my fault. Probably deserved it."

Octavia shook her own head viciously, kneeling down at the girl's bedside with little hesitation. "Don't say that! You didn't deserve anything that happened to you. There was lots of Dissonance, and you did your best. You were amazing. I saw you fight, and to know you were fighting on my behalf was…incredible. You weren't even the only one who got hurt! There was another--"

"I screwed River over pretty bad, didn't I?" she mumbled.

Octavia's eyes widened. "I…"

Mina sighed. "You don't have to sugarcoat it. I already know what happened. Never thought I'd be on the receiving end. I don't really remember it that much. I wonder if he regrets that he had to do it."

Octavia bit her lip. "You know him. He's stubborn. He really thinks it's what he was born to do. I don't think he regrets it at all."

Whether or not Octavia wished for River to carry at least a sliver of pain over the weight of his decision didn't matter. It wasn't relevant to Mina's well-being. She opted not to think of it right now, lest her anger compromise her concern. It was an issue for later.

"Yeah, he's stubborn, alright," Mina agreed. "He's one hell of a Spirited, though. I could almost see him being something else. Heartful, maybe. No offense, of course."

"Why would that offend me?"

Her grin was stronger, somewhat. "You really want a guy like that as a legacy sibling? He can barely pull himself down from the damn clouds, sometimes."

Octavia couldn't fight the way the corners of her mouth turned upwards involuntarily. "I wouldn't mind. River makes choices I don't agree with sometimes, but he's…nice. I like being around him."

Mina scoffed. "My God, does lightning bug know you talk about him like that?"

"What?"

"Geez, Heartful, leave something for the rest of us," she teased. "If you want River so bad, the least you can do is hand over what you've already got. I'll take good care of him."

The urge to smack Mina's arm was a reflex, injuries or not. It was enough to make the Maestra laugh, and Octavia nearly did the same. It was much more like her, and much more like what Octavia had hoped to see upon finding her face again.

When she calmed once more, Mina's tone was softer. "Don't tell my dad I almost died, alright? I think it'd kill him instead."

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"I have no reason to tell him."

"He didn't want me to be a Maestra in the first place," she said quietly. "I don't blame him, after what happened. He probably thought that would be me, someday. I mean, that wasn't exactly how it went down, but here we are anyway. If he knew that this is what almost did me in, the one thing he didn't want me to do, I think it would…hurt him more than all of this hurt me."

Octavia watched as Mina's hand slipped carefully into the lining of her cardigan, weaving between blankets for the sake of something so small. She managed to capture both pieces carefully with only five fingers to work with, sparkling as they were in the soft natural light. Up above, the sunshine that streamed through Mina's window did much more justice to the little curves than the dim candlelight below. For once, Octavia was appreciative of at least some aspect of Velrose. The rod and the iron itself dangled delicately from Mina's fingers, swaying gently in the open air as she held them aloft.

When she extended her hand towards the Ambassador in the slightest, the gesture came with a half-hearted smile. "I've had my fun. I did what I wanted to do. I paid the price for it, yeah, but at least now I know what this world is really like. I hope I got you somewhere you needed to be, Heartful."

Octavia only stared at the glistening triangle. "Are you…sure?"

Mina averted her eyes. "I…think so. I'm pretty sure. You've gotta do it eventually, right? There's some days I think it'd be fun to be a Maestra forever, and there's some days I think I'd rather be anything but. I want to be proud of what I've got, and it's gonna be trickier to take pride in something that I've got nothing to show for. Even so, I…think this is what's best. I think Raisare deserves a break, anyway. She kicked ass just as hard."

Octavia patiently awaited the return of Mina's gaze, stilling her words until she had the chance. "You can…still be proud of being Essenced, even if you're not a Maestra anymore. It doesn't just go away. Josiah's still Essenced, you know, and he hasn't been a Maestro for awhile. That'll never change. You'll always have a part of Raisare with you."

Mina rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, my sweet little Heartful, what am I going to do with you? And lightning bug owes me lunch for leading me on like that, anyway. Guess we're gonna match. It'll be a good conversation topic."

Octavia giggled, at least briefly. "As long as you're…sure that this is what you want."

Mina nodded, extending her arm the slightest bit further. "Yeah. Rai, what do you think?"

It was crowded, somewhat, with a relatively small space for the Muse in question to greet Octavia's eyes. Nonetheless, her full splendor was every bit as strikingly beautiful and illustrious as always. Her golden glow, overpowering as it was, put the sunshine to shame. Every sparkle that graced Savior's Resplendence as it dangled quietly was a silent spark that tickled Mina's fingers in turn. If Raisare's luminous presence was enough to sting Mina's eyes, she gave absolutely no indication. Instead, she opted only to offer a grin that warmed Octavia's heart.

Raisare bowed to the Ambassador once more, despite their prior meeting. "If you would have me, Ambassador, I would be most grateful for your assistance."

Octavia smiled as best as she could. "You two were--are--amazing partners for one another. I know you'll always be together, somehow."

Raisare cast her gaze down to the girl below her. "I do not disagree," she affirmed, her tone laced with warmth.

Mina waved her free hand dismissively. "Ah, knock it off, both of you. Don't go gettin' me emotional."

"I speak what I mean," Raisare said.

Again did Mina roll her eyes. "You were one hell of a troublemaker, you know that? Still, I…appreciate you stickin' it out with me. Thanks for giving me a chance, for whatever it was worth. It was good to have you."

"And to you, my child, it is as the Ambassador says. Take pride in your blood, with or without such power in your hands," Raisare offered gently.

Mina chuckled. "Whatever you say, Rai."

When Mina's eyes drifted to Octavia's, her fragile smile served as permission. "Take it away, Heartful."

Octavia nodded, although not without a soft smile of her own. She relished the occasional ting of Savior's Resplendence clinking as it dangled, a sweet sound she regretted halting. Her bandaged fingers did an injustice to the little triangle, soaking up the sparkle she hoped to savor until the end. Instead, ever so gently, she cupped her hands around the metal, cradling both precious fragments with caution.

"I have borne witness to your pain," she murmured, "and my light guides your passage from the depths of my heart."

Mina watched along, and so did she. There were no tears to be shed, as Octavia had almost expected to find. Instead, in the wake of Raisare's gorgeous departure, challenging the sun's rays with every flickering shimmer, the speckled stars she left in her wake were met only with a grin. Mina was silent, drinking in a spectacle she'd seen Octavia bless her eyes with several times over by now. Surely, at least, to bid farewell to her own partner was a different experience entirely. For as fatigued as she was, content or otherwise, she took it with grace. Octavia could feel her palms closing inwards as the cool iron escaped her skin, a somewhat unwelcome departure of its own.

"Not half bad, Heartful, not half bad," Mina teased as she saw the deed through to the end. "You've got this down, at this point. And look, now you got rid of three of 'em while you were here. You got a bonus one, so you're welcome for the compensation prize. Thank me later."

Octavia giggled once more. It wasn't in the slightest that she'd taken any satisfaction in sending Seraphe or Valkyria home, for what trials their guidance had necessitated. It was by the same difficulties that Mina was even bedbound in the first place, and the thought still made her feel ill. Her heart raced when she thought of the Muses that had awaited her both so high above and so far below, the strength of sound shaking her to her core without the need for so much as a single note. Instead, with her feet on the ground, she could take comfort in the essence of lightning as it flashed its vibrance before her.

Even without Raisare, even without fingers that could dispel agony itself with the most relentless of bolts and sparks, Mina sparkled just as much. Her grin was just as electric. That smile was the one and only sliver of happiness Octavia found in Velrose that day, and she prayed for it to strike her heart again and again.

Octavia had dreaded sleeping. She'd had absolutely every reason to. Every suspicion she carried with her that would follow the path of her head to the pillow was correct.

She'd procrastinated, largely. Octavia wondered if she'd driven anyone insane with the sound of her boots echoing up and down the hallway so late in the evening. She was driving herself insane, at least, and the fear that ate away at her heart over the simple idea of surrendering to the darkness only made it worse.

She feared confiding in another, just the same, for how they would surely try to coax her into accepting unconsciousness regardless. She'd expressed to them her struggles with toll nightmares before, sporadic and interspersed with her more regular plague of bells and broken light. Octavia longed for a good night's rest, if not just once more in her life. She was aware that it was wishful thinking, given what more still awaited her in the future.

Are you alright?

And when she ended up in her bed, it was Octavia who was confided in first. She resisted the urge to groan, casting her eyes aimlessly at the ceiling rather than at his case across the room.

Not especially, no, she admitted. It was her first acknowledgement of his words in some time. Still, she didn't apologize.

What ails you?

Octavia rolled her eyes. He was almost being insensitive. What doesn't?

If there is something on your mind, you are always free to confide in me.

Stratos sounded identical to her companions. It wasn't exactly endearing, in his case. I don't really want to talk about it.

I see. Know that I am here, nonetheless.

I know.

Even unspoken, it came out sharper than she meant for it to. Octavia almost regretted it. A part of her hoped it would make him uncomfortable. As to why, she had no idea.

You have…done remarkably.

Octavia sighed heavily. "Please stop saying that," she begged aloud.

I only speak what is true.

"I don't want to keep hearing about it!" she snapped. "Stop reminding me that it happened and just…let me forget about it already!"

If…that is what you wish, then I will not dwell upon it. We may simply look to the future instead.

Octavia squeezed her eyes shut. Volume control was getting difficult. She did everything in her power to inhale and exhale at least once, shaky as her breaths were. I just want to go back to Tacell. I don't want to think about anything else for the rest of the time I'm here. I don't want to do anything. I'm tired. Please, just…let me have this. Haven't I done enough for now?

Of course. I…did not mean to pressure you.

She resisted the urge to admit that his words were doing so, regardless. I'll deal with…whatever comes next when we get back. I can't do anything else right now. I have nothing else to give. I don't want to be here, so just let me get that over with. Please.

Stratos paused. I understand, he offered at last.

Octavia didn't particularly believe him.

As to when she fell asleep, she had no idea. She wouldn't have known that she was asleep, anyway. It was a roll of the dice, when she left the waking world, as to whether she kept her own eyes. At the onset of her task, her pool of potential masks to wear and shoes to don once more in her dreams was relatively small. She'd relived several specific tolls multiple times over in the past, particularly prior to her voyage to Tacell. Steadily, the little settlement had sent a steady stream of fresh material trickling into the pond from which she fished for her next nightmare.

Sometimes, she played them straight, a clean shot from start to finish of a life fully lived. Sometimes, they were twisted and repackaged, with elements added or removed like the sickest of puzzles. Already, before, had she imagined her mother in place of Mina's. At least once, Octavia had found her father where Harper's had fallen. There was a time, disgusted as she was to remember, where Drey's tear-stained blade had pierced her own heart rather than Priscilla's. It was material she hated to work with, a storybook she couldn't close. Try as she might to tear out the pages, every toll was yet another written in its place.

Where Tacell had offered her a stream, then, Velpyre now flooded her with the sea.

Even in the depths of a different Hell, up and down as she'd gone, she was well aware of the way every face that met an untimely demise would follow her long after. It was impossible to memorize over 14,000 lives lived in one sitting, and yet there were more than enough that stood out. There were those that, as she feared, found her fingers coated in the blood and pain of another. There were many, many hands that were laid upon the innocent, a single sacrifice that now screamed vividly in her dreams. Her collection of the acolyte's agonized cries paid off in the worst way, and she had her pick. It was a recipe she couldn't stand to cook. The way by which she was forced to devour the sights and sounds of the Cursed City's suffering for eternity left her cursed just the same.

Octavia couldn't prove that she wasn't dead. She wondered if it would matter. In silence, in the regretful peace that was the privacy of the church quarters, there were none of the comforting sounds she associated with the places she'd come to call home. Between herself and the Velrose Church, perhaps a bell wasn't the only sound that could tear her apart. No sound at all but those she could string together was equally as torturous.

Click.

When something had the chance to wake her, it usually did.

She'd ended up as somewhat of a light sleeper over time, something Octavia could count her blessings for in the face of what panic haunted her routinely. Any opportunity to escape the crushing silence that kept her bound to an unconscious Hell was seized, no matter how small. Even so, in this place specifically, the sound that awoke her with a jolt was more akin to a curse that led her mind down a path far too dark. Any threats in the waking world, within the walls of the church, were perhaps almost equally as severe as those she endured in her nightmares.

Octavia actually needed to catch her breath for several seconds the moment her eyes popped open, struggling to adjust to the dark. Her attempts to scan the room frantically with such low lighting were feeble, and her first reaction was fear. Stradivaria was too far to reach from the confines of her covers. If something was in the room with her, she'd be defenseless, briefly.

It took an unfathomable amount of willpower for her to crawl out of bed, still hardly able to stand in the wake of her exhaustion. Her only option for inspection was feeble candlelight, which she nursed to life at her bedside quickly and desperately. A precursory glance around the small expanse of her quarters was, at least, momentarily comforting--isolation, still intact as ever, was hers to claim. The paper on the table was new.

One entire edge was semi-serrated, as though torn with great caution and care. The rest was well-intact, small as it was. It fit comfortably in her hand. Beneath the oppressive flicker of candlelight, the fresh, wet ink that she struggled not to smudge with her thumb was bleeding through the paper somewhat. She recognized the handwriting, vaguely. She couldn't quite place it.

Octavia, her mystery letter began. She took it back to the bed, setting the candle delicately atop her nightstand.

There aren't enough words in the world to thank you for all that you've done for me. The lengths you've gone to for people you've never known are nothing short of extraordinary. If you weren't the Ambassador, you'd be an angel. Maybe you can be both. You're surrounded by people who love you and will fight with everything they've got to support you. I've seen the things you've overcome, both obvious and inside your heart. You're stronger than you know, and you should be proud of every step that you've taken. I know how hard it can be to move forward when the world is ripped out from under you.

Octavia couldn't help the way she gripped the paper just the slightest bit tighter, her fingernails digging into the flimsy material. She strived to be gentle.

Everyone has somewhere they're meant to be. For me, it was with you, and with all of the people you introduced me to. It was a family I didn't deserve, but I loved all the same, even if I didn't show it well. There are times when I've wondered what would've happened if you'd refused to accept me after everything fell to pieces that day. I wouldn't have blamed you. I spent a very long time trying to figure out where I was supposed to belong after that. I found my answer, and I thank you for that from the bottom of my heart.

Her eyes widened. She was starting to recognize the way each S curled ever so subtly, the gentle tilt that each letter carried along every stroke of black. The handwriting was finally starting to click. Octavia was on her feet once more, largely out of confusion.

Recently, there's somewhere else I've realized I'm supposed to be. It's somewhere I should've been for quite some time, and it's somewhere I've thought of going before. Just like you refused to leave me behind, there's someone I'm not meant to leave behind anymore, either. This isn't a choice I make lightly, and this isn't an impulse. I've thought about this long and hard, and I've decided this is what needs to be done. You didn't do anything wrong. None of you did anything wrong. To you, most of all, be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself for things that were beyond your control. Please know that this is what I want, and please believe me when I say that this is entirely my own decision. I'm not afraid. I wish you the best of luck with everything, and I know you'll see all of this mess through to this end with great success. You'll always be my Ambassador. I'll see you again someday, hopefully not anytime soon. I'll wait patiently. I love all of you.

Stradivaria was on her shoulders before she even made it to the last lines.

I'm sorry.

She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was run, the door to her bedroom slamming behind her so loudly that it echoed down the hallway. She didn't care who heard. She didn't care if she woke anyone up. Already, Octavia could hardly see through the ocean that besieged her eyesight. Every step was staggered. She wanted to scream.

With love, now and forever.

This place had stolen everything. This horrible, horrible city and the one that lay beneath it had taken far too much from the world. Even salvaged, even freed of otherworldly agony, the mortal agony that it still harbored was inexplicable. It couldn't steal anything else away from her.

Josiah.

It absolutely could not steal one more precious piece of her heart away from her.

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