Re-cap:

Choosing to face Proteus alone, Maria has lost not only her arm but also her grounding. As everyone prepares for a resistance around her, Maria—

( )

The bells continued to ring at the back of Maria’s mind long after she’d left the Monadic Temple behind. The sound reverberated from the base of her skull, down her spine, through her limbs, and down all the parts that extended out from them. The one area where the trembles did not travel was her left arm just above her elbow. In that area, she only felt a numb prickle. Yes, she could still feel it there—her arm. 

She had stayed awake staring at the dim brown ceiling illuminated by candlelight as Nico’s father had removed it—snip by snip, cut by cut, incision by incision. She had studied the way the shadows danced back and forth, how the light stretched and compressed, how it all blended together. It reminded her of when she’d used to play shadow puppets with Conta  at the orphanage deep into the night. They’d sneak out from their rooms and hide beneath the cloth-draped tables of the dining hall by candlelight. As Maria would make shadows stretch across the makeshift screen with her hands, Conta would chant—

“A golden beast, ready for a feast—”

The surgery wasn’t as painful as Maria thought it’d be—it had hurt a lot more when she’d driven her hand through the wall of Rho’s vitae. Werner was out cold and Jericho’s view of pain was quite different, so they didn’t deal with her pain too much. The others did not cope with the pain too well though. Cadence and Olive agonized through it. Eventually Cadence passed out from the ordeal, while Olive laid curled up and heaving in his private room on his train bound to Ophiuchus.

Maria was quite used to dealing with pain from the others because Jericho was accident prone as was Cadence—for vastly different reasons. What she was not used to, however, was the others taking on her own pain. She rarely injured herself, after all. Having the others feel her pain was not pleasant at all. She figured she could handle it by drawing all of the pain into herself—but she couldn’t. Perhaps it was because she had never had to really do it before. If she had enough practice, she was certain she’d be able to—but getting that ‘practice’ in would mean having to get injured repeatedly. And she was strong so that was impossible. Impossible—

Simply put—Maria didn’t know what to do. 

After the surgery was finished, Nico’s father informed Maria that it would take around a month for the wound to heal and up to a year for ‘the residual limb’ to stabilize in size and shape. There were a lot of numbers involved with it all, but Maria had never been limited by such things. He pressed for her to remain in bed at least three weeks which Maria felt was too long. She felt fine—just a little sleepy. However, the others worried immensely, so she stayed put just for them. 

The first day after Nico’s father removed her arm, Olive came to her bedside, sank to his knees, and bit his lip as he held her gaze. He tried very hard not to cry but in the end the tears leaked out and he buried his face into her sheets.  

Maria was quite surprised by his actions. He made it seem like something truly awful happened to her—which she didn’t think was the case. In fact, she had at first thought he’d come to cry about Werner. It wasn’t until he mumbled—“It’ll be okay. I’ll figure out a way to make things better, Maria. I promise”—that she realized his tears were for her. He had shed tears for her before—for Conta—but this time felt different.

Maria didn’t know what to do.

Cadence’s visit—visits—were a bit more happy. Whenever Cadence came physically, Cadence would go on and talk about things she saw that day or bring Maria a ‘souvenir’ she ‘found’ while outside. When Cadence synchronized from some other place, she would show Maria some wintery scenery or play Maria a song from the piano in one of Francis’s other rooms. 

Cadence was quite talented.  Her sounds were always vibrant, colorful, and happy. No one could play quite like her.

One day, however, Cadence suggested that Maria have a conversation with Gilbert through her. Maria couldn’t quite understand why. Maria did like Gilbert a lot since he was Werner’s,  but she didn’t feel much like speaking to him at all. Cadence seemed sad at this bled thought—which was quite peculiar to Maria.

Maria didn’t know what to do.

Jericho visited her often as well—although she technically visited him before he started visiting her:

It was only two days or so after her surgery that she felt an intense wave of boiling yet chilling  hatred simmer at the pit of her stomach. She knew immediately that it was Jericho and so—despite warning and protest—she swept herself out from her bed and to the room Jericho was holding Proteus and Leona in. Upon entering, she found Jericho straddling Proteus and squeezing his fingers over the latter’s throat. Epsilon was hovering over him, looking faithfully from side to side.

Maria could feel the pounding hatred coursing through her veins—stronger than anything she’d ever felt before—but still she managed to move forward, pull Jericho aside, and hold him in place. Epsilon meanwhile came to Maria’s side and flashed her a smile of relief.

You seem like you are in a bad mood, Jericho, Maria noted as she stared over the man’s shoulder towards Proteus who was staring up at the ceiling without seeming disturbed. Let’s cheer up! 

Maria looked over at Leona who was still bound upright across from Proteus. When their eyes locked, however, Leona’s gaze moved to Maria’s left. Then, Leona made a soft clicking sound with her tongue and shook her head before turning her attention to Epsilon.

“It’s his fault,” Jericho muttered to Maria. “For everything. It is him. All of it. He took everything, Maria. He started everything. ELPIS, the chlorowheat, Ayda, Altair, Vega, Omicron, Francis. Me. You.”  

Bright blips of faded scenes—white on black—flitted through Maria’s mind eye. Proteus, Ophiuchus, Altair, Vega, Mathitís, and everything in-between. With it came Jericho’s burning hatred.

Maria followed the man’s gaze to Proteus and nodded. “He did many bad things, ye—” She shut her mouth and tightened her grip on Jericho’s arm. “He did bad things. I don’t think I will forgive him for it—but I think Werner and Atienna want to keep him alive. He still has my crew and Cadence’s children. We should wait. It is more fun when there’s build up, isn’t it?” Her smile thinned as she stared at Proteus and she felt her upper left arm begin to pulsate.

Jericho frowned.

“But for now we should show mercy, Jericho,” Maria continued. “Mercy is—”

“—is a virtue only the strong hold.” Proteus chuckled. “You’re certainly dazzling, Maria. Every time I see you, I do truly see Leo.”

“You need to get your eyes checked then. I am Maria, not Leo.” Maria continued to hold onto Jericho’s arm.  “You took my ship and my crew and my spirit crew’s crew. And now, we’ve taken you. So—where are they?”

“Vengeance, I see….An eye for an eye…” Proteus shrugged. “I’m not with them now, am I? That’s a strange question to be asking someone who hasn’t set foot on that ship in—how long has it been now?” 

Maria thought on it. “You said you know everything, so wouldn’t you know where they are?”

Proteus continued smiling. “You’re holding onto those types of things still—the both of you. Corporeal and incorporeal. Little Maria and Jericho. You’re clinging to each other too.” His eyes fell half-lidded. “Haven’t those things only brought you unhappiness?” His gaze rose to the ceiling. “Leo, you would know, wouldn’t you—what happens when you hold onto something too tightly or for too long? That is a self-inflicted prison. I’m sure you learned that way before me. That is—through whatever happened in the 1600s and during the war. Oh, I mean the latest war, of course.” He chuckled and then looked past Maria towards Epsilon. “Epsilon has certainly brought some things I’d long let go of back into the forefront of mind. The higher the pedestal, the harder the fall. Freedom is so easy to obtain but we’d much rather choose imprisonment. Well, you’re free to listen or to ignore or both—as always.”

Maria pulled Jericho a bit closer and motioned for Epsilon with her head. Then she offered Proteus a thinning smile. “I don’t want to talk with you anymore, so we’ll be leaving now—but I will be back.”

With that, she directed Epsilon and Jericho out of the room through the gate. When they arrived on the opposite side of the gate into another one of Francis’s room, Maria felt resistance on Jericho’s end. She stopped short and swiveled around to face him curiously.

 Jericho—

Are you mad at me? Jericho searched her face. “You don’t feel mad but Cadence said that if someone stops using a ‘nickname’ with you that means they are upset with you.” He looked over her shoulder. “You didn’t say… ‘my dear Jericho’.”

Maria cocked her head.

Jericho slowly returned his gaze to her face. “Intuition: it is something else. Alpha is the beginning. But who you are and who I am: it is ‘shaped’ by something else. For you it is before that ‘beginning’ and for me it is after. I…” He seemed to struggle for words. “Would you like to talk about it?” 

Maria held his gaze momentarily before offering him a smile. “I’m not upset with you, Jeri. You worry too much.”

Maria wasn’t mad at all. She just didn’t know what to do.

* * *

Maria’s visitors did not only include her spirit crew but her ship crew as well. 

Simon was a constant. He had claimed a chair in the room’s far corner as his own and would frequently bring it over to sit by her bedside in silence. Maria would fill in the silence by idly chatting about whatever came to her mind, but at some point, she reached a point where she couldn’t think of anything else to say—a rare occurrence.

On the second day of silence, Maria asked absentmindedly, “Could you tell me more about yourself, Simon?”

“You mean why I joined?” Simon smiled faintly. “I already answered that, Captain.”

Maria shook her head. “No, about you, Simon. Before me. Where did you start?”

The beginning.

“Does it matter?”

“I will know when you tell me,” Maria replied with a smile.

Simon regarded her for a moment before chuckling. “Well, I grew up in Trastámara—that’s a city in central Leo. My father was the head priest of the city, so you can see that I… followed in his footsteps. I didn’t really think there was any other career choice for me, really. It’s not as if the beliefs in Monadism are bad or anything so I had no qualms about doing it.”

“So you are always following something or somebody?” Maria inquired.

Simon placed a hand to his chest. “I suppose you could say that…” He looked at a far point in the wall. “I can’t say I was particularly social, but that made me better able to focus on my Monadic studies. So, I was able to move up within the ranks of the Monadic Temples quite easily. Soon, I was appointed to be a priest at one of the Gloria orphanages.”

“Oh.” Maria cocked her head. “So you could have met Conta and me! Maybe you could have been our priest instead! That would have been fun.”

Simon chuckled. “I’m not that old, Captain. That actually… hurt a bit. I think we’re around the same age…” 

He cast a glance to the side towards Lita and Albatross who were sitting together on the sofa against the wall. Maria followed his gaze and noticed that there was a large gap of space between the two. Albatross was looking in Lita’s direction but Lita was looking ahead at nothing—simply listening.

“I learned about the process of selecting potential saint candidates and what the orphanages were really for during my training for the role. I learned what the saint candidates truly were—in a sense.” Slowly, Simon lowered his head until his eyes met Maria’s. “Believing what you believe because you choose to believe it on your own merit—the pride in that action…? That is what the pillar of victory stands for.” He gripped his chest. “Indoctrination and forcing beliefs. Saying ‘devote yourself’ or be unloved and punished. Obsession… lack of compassion… The children who couldn’t become the Saint Candidate of Leo…” Simon let out a long and quiet sigh. “The priests force them to cut their vocal chords as a vow of silence. Some orphanages require them to remove their tongues. Mine was one like that. That way the secrets stay within closed doors.” He shook his head. “As if they aren’t brainwashed into staying quiet in the first place. That… fervor… it’s… terrifying. Those children become—”

“They become Andres,” Maria finished.

Simon grimaced briefly with a nod before he continued, “I couldn’t handle the guilt of it so I left. I didn’t quite give my two weeks’ notice, Captain, but they replaced me rather quickly. My father actually found me after I ran away just to tell me that I was disowned. Seems archaic, doesn’t it? I figured it was good enough punishment for me just turning tail and running. I didn’t know what to do, who to tell, and I still don’t quite know, Captain. It was awful. I was… desperate for an escape from the guilt. And then… I met you. The moment I saw you and Conta, I knew. You—Maria—were one of those children. But somehow, you’d escaped—freed yourself.”

Escaped? Freed? Taken. Saved.

“I know this is awful of me to say, but I was saved in that moment. I was ready to tell you everything, Captain,” Simon whispered, “but you were searching in an entirely different direction, so I… thought the least I could do was to—”

“Oh, so the reason you stayed in my crew—I made you join but you stayed on your own choice—was because of that?” Maria closed her eyes as she hummed. “You did not stay because I was me or because you wanted the adventure. You stayed because I was a potential saint candidate for Leo. You stayed because you felt guilty.”

“Captain…” 

Maria flashed him a smile again but did not open her eyes. “That is not a bad reason to do something, is it?”

Did his answer really matter? Of course not. The adventure and the experience was all that mattered. She was herself, and that was that. But—did she think like that because she had been taught to think like that? Of course not. She was herself, and that was that. But— 

The thoughts looped in a cycle in her head over and over again.

She didn’t know what to do.

* * *

Lita and Albatross were also almost always there too whenever Simon was. Lita, however, would hover far off in the corner—silent. Whenever Maria called out to her, she would escape through Francis’s gate and Albatross would follow on after her. Maria tried to chase after her whenever that happened, but she could never find which of Francis’s rooms Lita was hiding in. A constant search. Again.

Proteus’s gaze came to Maria after these fruitless searches and his words would echo in her mind. Why was she searching for something—attaching herself to someone—when it hindered her freedom? Why be tied down from her adventure? It was because she had become attached to the children and to her crew and it was because she had become refocused on searching for Proteus that she had stopped adventuring and exploring and having fun. In fact—now that she thought more on it—attaching herself to all of these things had made her lose even more of her freedom. It had made her lose her—

No.

The answer was because it was Lita, and Lita was hers. There was no other reason for her searching. But the idea of ‘things being hers’—Maria wondered if that idea was originally hers to begin with.

That chase aside, the other children—her children and Cadence’s—also visited. Maria enjoyed their company. They were fun and energetic and didn’t look at her with the same sort of sadness that the other five and her other, older crew members did. She would tell the ones who had chosen to stay with Cadence  long tales and stories of her past adventures, and reenact all her battles with vigor. However—despite the children hanging onto each and every word—they would always end the day by staring at the left half of her body. Maria didn’t usually mind it but for some reason now she did.

She didn’t know what to do.

* * *

During the short lapses of time when she had no visitors, Maria would experiment with her left hand—rather, the lack of it. 

Today was no different. 

In the beginning, whenever she would try to wiggle her fingers, she would feel throbbing pain above her elbow where her arm had been severed. There was less pain when she did it now so she was able to focus on the other sensations from the action. Specifically, she was able to feel the tingling sensation that went down her absent appendage. She could feel an itch at the base of her non-existent palm and feel a prickle of pin-needles up the area. Phantom limb, Nico’s father said.

It was quite a funny feeling. Something there but not truly there. Like Conta—

“You changed your style of speaking.”

Maria looked up from her bed to see Conta entering the room through the gate just across from her bed. 

Conta frequented the room often. Actually, she always seemed to be there—hidden in the corner and remaining silent. Whenever Simon or Maria would try to speak to her, Conta would stare them down wordlessly. She only ever spoke to—greeted—Lita who would occasionally hesitantly come to her side. Lita wouldn’t say anything, however, and they often stood together in silence.

“Did I?” Maria cocked her head at Conta. “Well, trying new things out every once in a while is fun, isn’t it?”

Conta stopped a meter away from Maria’s bed before moving to recline against the wall with crossed arms. “This is not trying out something new. This is you trying to cope with your mistake and with what you’ve learned.”

“A mistake? What I’ve learned…?” Maria thought on it and felt a static run up her left arm. “Yes, I… made a mistake. And I have learned some new interesting things too… About Leo, about our orphanage. Mistakes can be fixed, can they not?”

“Fix this mistake? Because you can do everything?” Conta pointed to Maria’s limb. “Can you regrow that limb of yours?”

Maria’s head buzzed and felt her arm begin to throb.

“That Capricornian military officer that’s staying in one of Theta’s other rooms,” Conta continued. “He’s obviously connected with you, and there’s obviously something wrong with him. Can you fix him?”

“I have not tried any of those things yet…” Maria drew. “But maybe it is that all the possibilities have not been tried yet—”

“Do you hear yourself?” Conta interjected, shaking her head and throwing out her arm. “You’ve realized how ridiculous you sound, but you’re not fully acknowledging it. Yes, there’s a possibility that some time in the future things like this can be fixed or solved but you will not be the one to do it.”

Conta was saying unpleasant things again.

Maria tried to brush away the thoughts. “You were very heroic when you carried me out of the temple, Conta. I was very surprised. We switched roles for a moment. Why did you do that—”

“I loved you.”

Maria looked up to find Conta gazing at her without waver. 

“Even in a hot country like Leo, everything felt cold,” Conta continued. “The head priests, the caretakers, even the children who were there with us. The priests said the same things. The children acted the same way. You were different. You were bright.”

Maria blinked before her heart skipped a hopeful beat. “You are Conta.” 

But not really.

Maria pushed the thought aside again and chuckled. “Leo wasn’t so bad, was it? You were very bright too in my eyes. And I also love—”

“No, you don’t,” Conta interjected, crossing her arms slowly. “We were taught to ‘love’ everything and everyone equally—that was probably why I was a failed potential candidate. I showed ‘difference’ in my love.” She shook her head. “Anyways, someone who loves everyone and everything equally truly deeply loves no one.”

Favoring one person more than another and the importance of ‘love’ as a word to Cadence—

“I admired you more than anything else,” Conta continued. “Through all of their adventures across the sea and lands inside and outside of Signum, I found you more vibrant and beautiful than all of the wonders we saw. Being in your presence was more than enough—but you shared that warmth equally with everyone. You would retract it without discrimination and care too—though, I thought that added value to being in your presence.”

Maria opened her mouth but then closed it a moment after.

“But then I became Beta. Or I became Conta.” Conta unfolded her arms. “The directional flow doesn’t really matter as time bleeds on—on this subject, I do agree with Theta.” She paused, gaze trailing to the gate across the room before returning to Maria. “After becoming who I am now, I came to a realization: you’re just a byproduct of their folly. Just as I was a byproduct of their folly as Conta. I was one of millions, and you were one of thousands.”  She looked to the side briefly. “I have no idea what Leo was thinking—developing a system like that. Perhaps it was a way for them to escape imperfections or a way for them to be distant from the people they called theirs…?” 

There was a long lapse of silence.

Maria finally said quietly, “I didn’t save you in time back then, Conta. Lo siento. Lamento. You had to experience, see, and remember many unpleasant things because of that. I was your captain, but I did not rescue you properly. I did not rescue Lita and the other children properly. I could not rescue Werner properly either nor Talib nor Benì—even though they are important people.”

Conta didn’t respond.

“Do you… not love me anymore, Conta?” 

“I don’t love you anymore,” Conta concurred, nearing Maria’s bed and looking down at her. “Not in that way and not because of your failures. If anything, I pity you. And through that pity”— she lifted her hand and left it hovering by Maria’s cheek— “I care for you. You saved me back then and I feel indebted as a result. So much so that your status as a True Conductor is almost pardonable. You didn’t choose to be one, after all—just like you didn’t choose to be a child raised to be the next Leo.”

Maria stared.

Conta dropped her hand. “Even though we have Alpha, more obstacles continue to be in our way. The syzygy seems inevitable at this point and yet we’re still being so selective in our path… So, I ask now that your eyes have been opened a bit wider, do you have any solutions, Captain?”

* * *

It was shortly after this that Werner finally came to visit Maria again. He did not come to her often because whenever he did come, an intense wave of pain would radiate out from them both and into the others. 

Werner was kind in this respect, Maria thought—always thinking for the others and his crew. He had been hurt rather badly recently—in a way that was more than physical—and Maria was beginning to realize she had exacerbated his pain. Her stomach churned when she thought about it—

Still, she was pleasantly surprised when he reached out to her out of the blue on some pretext of acting on the concerns of the others. She was even more surprised when he moved forward to cusp her cheek and delivered to her gentle words instead of a reprimand like he usually would.

In that moment, as he held her cheek, she saw him radiating clearly—the things that he had been given since he’d been younger: the shape he had molded himself at the expectation of others because appearances were everything and what he had been imposed upon him by Scorpio. Things given to him—yes—just like everything that had been given to her. It was a bit different, of course, but Maria understood what he meant. ‘It was not bad if it was not yours to begin with’ was what he was saying. Many things were built upon aspects of other things and improved upon further from that blueprint.

“Maria,” he said in the end, “I still find your unpredictability problematic—especially in high-pressure and delicate situations—but these are aspects that I associate with you and you alone. Your positivity and optimism are important to the morale of this group, and I admit that at times those things have given me the drive to continue forward in moments of weakness. You have made these characteristics your own.”

His words were quite kind and reassuring. But when she looked into his eyes, all she could see were the things that she could not prevent and the things she could not do. Being able to do anything and everything: perfection—nearable but impossible to obtain. And also with all of that—the necessity of an anchor. Not a chain to freedom but an anchor to hold steady. A necessity for any ship.

Maria stared into his eyes afterwards. “I love you, Werner.” 

Werner stiffened.

“I do love you, Werner, don’t I?” Maria pressed. “You can feel that I love you?”

Werner regarded her for a moment before letting out a breath. “I’m unable to answer that for you, Maria, but I do feel affection through our connection.” He continued a beat after, “I can tell you this with certainty: you have the ability to control everything within your vicinity and within yourself. This is a valuable characteristic to have. However, that being said, in general it is very difficult to control external factors. You can account for them and set up preventive measures, but you cannot stop them. Impossible—within your current ability and limits—is a possibility. Even you cannot escape this law. In fact, it is through acknowledging this that you can better adapt to the implications of the impossible.”

As his words and touched slowly seeped into her, Maria finally admitted it—she could not do everything. Not everything was within her grasps. Some things easily slipped through. And when they did…

Maria didn’t know what to do.

* * *

It was two weeks afterwards that Maria was finally able to catch hold of Lita. It was when Maria was waking from a deep slumber that she found Lita and Albatross snoozing side-by-side and resting their heads on her bed. Upon seeing them both, Maria hesitated for just a moment before placing a hand on top of Albatross’s head then on top of Lita’s. The latter stirred before stiffening and tensing and then pulling away. Maria released her and did not give chase. This gave Lita pause.

“Lita, why do you always run from me?” Maria asked as Albatross lifted his head. “I may be the Golden Beast, but I do not want to feast on you. We haven’t spoken in almost a month now. I do miss speaking with you.”

“Captain,” Albatross mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He perked up, gaze fliting from Lita to Maria. “Captain, you have to understand. Lita—”

“I-I can say it for myself,” Lita stammered, balling her fists. She turned in Maria’s direction. “I’m sorry about avoiding you… I…I know you’re going through things, Captain.” Her lips trembled slightly but she pulled them thin. “And I know what you’ll say after I tell you what I want to tell you—that I’m still me—but it’s more than that and I… don’t want you to think that I’m weak or leave or that I’m dirty—”

Maria reached out and touched Lita’s arm. “Your vitae is white now, Lita?” 

Lita’s face crumpled and she followed Maria’s extended hand and arm to her bed. Then, she buried her face into Maria’s shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry, Maria… I…”  Lita took a deep breath. “Some of the others—Maria, they… I don’t know how t-the man did it but they… Maria, they agreed to bleach their vitae.”

Maria felt something in her chest sink and then burn brightly with indignation and fury. 

“I knew it was wrong but I…. I couldn’t think of how to convince them to stop, so I….” Lita swallowed and sobbed. “I made a deal. I thought I was being smart like Cadence. That man treated me like I was someone important, so I… I asked him if he would stop letting the others go through that if I did it instead.” 

Another defeat. No, more than a defeat. This was not about her but about Lita.

Ah. Maria felt her heart crack.

Albatross dipped his head, distraught lines folding across his face. 

“Lita, I would never think you were weak or dirty because of something like this,” Maria drew after a stretch of silence. Placing a hand on top of Lita’s head just as Werner would, Maria pulled Lita closer and tucked her beneath her chin. “This is not your fault. I… I did not get to you fast enough. I’m… sorry.” 

“Maria, it feels wrong,” Lita whispered. “The man… he talked about cycles and returning to them and not returning to them. Will I not return to the cycle now? I-I’ll be gone—”

“You will be fine, Lita,” Maria interjected. “I will make sure of it.”

Lita fell silent.

Maria felt her lips pull tight. Maybe this was… another thing she could not conquer. 

Not alone. 

“You know the peacekeeper who speaks a bit strangely sometimes?” Maria drew. “You saw him when we found you, I think.”

Lita nodded. “From Capricorn.  He…” Her brows touched. “He said some really weird things when we met again, but…”

“He is Jericho,” Maria told her. “He is someone very, very important to me—important like how you are to me. He is a treasure, and he has gone through something similar to you. I think he will be better at talking with you about something like this than me.” She thought more on it. “Maybe you could help him too.”

Lita nodded slowly before reaching an uncertain hand forwards. She reached, reached, reached, until she finally touched what was left of Maria’s left arm.

“Maria, it’s…” Lita’s face crumpled further. “… gone.”

Pale and with a faint expression of disbelief, Albatross looked away. 

“Yes, yes, it is.”

* * *

Sometime later Maria received an unexpected but exciting visitor. It was Andres accompanied by an unusually serious-looking Jericho. She recalled from Jericho’s end of things that Andres had been kept in another one of Francis’s more furnished rooms alongside Dominic. Jericho had visited them every so often to bring them food. During these visits Andres had always asked about whether the other orphanage children outside of Dominic had been found and about Maria herself. Dominic meanwhile would always act feral—as Cadence put it. The first time Jericho had come to the two, Dominic had lunged at him. However, because Dominic was still affected by Alice’s vitae particles, his movements were slowed. And so, Jericho had reflexively punched him right in the face. Jericho had apologized afterwards but ever since then Dominic had kept away from the man. Cadence reasoned Dominic was intimidated by Jericho— “Must’ve never been punched in the face before then. Probably was humblin’.”

Now as Andres approached her with Jericho just a step behind, Maria found herself wondering what exactly he was coming here to her for and… why he hadn’t come earlier.

Andres pulled out a notepad from his robe pocket as he approached and scribbled something down on it. Once he was at Maria’s bedside, he flashed her what he’d written—

I’m deeply, deeply sorry. 

Maria merely laughed. “What are you sorry for?”

Andres wrote, Your arm.

Straight to the point. That seemed to be the focus of everyone’s attention. Her arm. Her loss.

Andres scribbled some more on another page. Dominic is not yet the saint candidate of Leo and yet I caved into him. He’s someone that I need to save, not follow. I apologize for not helping you. I know apologies do little, but I truly am sorry. I also apologize for coming with this apology too late. He flipped to another page before continuing to write— For waiting until now to apologize. Claire visited me physically—Andres smiled briefly—and made me realize keeping away is not the ideal solution. I’m sorry. You are an ally and I should’ve treated you more as such. 

Apologies? Not helping her? But needing help was a sign of…?

“I would have rejected your help at the time anyways, Andres,” Maria drew slowly with a faint smile. “I rejected everyone else’s help, after all—even the help of people who were closer to me than you. But! I accept your unneeded apology anyways!”

Why?—at the same time Andres wrote this and showed it to Maria, Jericho also thought the same question. Why did you try to do it alone?

Jericho detached himself from behind Andres and came to Maria’s bedside.

“I wonder…” Maria murmured, staring off into the distance. “I think I wanted to show Proteus—no, I wanted to prove to myself—that I… That I am me. That I could do anything and what was mine was mine and no one else’s. But if I feel the need to prove to someone that I can do it then…”

—but you are Maria. There is nothing to prove. Jericho glanced briefly at the gate on the wall. I spoke to Francis recently. About Alpha. About Leo. The candidates and ELPIS. Francis said we are fragments. Of vitae. Like glass. Made up of things given to us by the people who came before us. Not made of original parts but the final image we make is original.

Maria stared at Jericho and for a moment she caught a glimpse of a memory in his mind’s eye—a memory that matched one of her own: the stained-glass windows of the Monadic Temple she’d frequented during childhood. Shards of blues, reds, greens, yellows—fitted together to form one image. 

Slowly, Maria turned to Andres. “And how about you, Andres? Why did you follow what Dominic said to begin with? Because of his potential saint candidacy? Is following fun? You know what the saint candidates really are.” 

He believes he has no other purpose, Jericho answered. He believes this path is the right one. There is nothing else.

What other purpose do I have? They are greater and more noble than us, Andres wrote, confirming Jericho’s thoughts. He paused, flipping over his notebook and writing quickly on the same page. When he flipped it back over to her, the second line had been scribbled out and a new line had been written: The others in my circle have said their peace. I see their perspective, but the pillars give me comfort. I don’t want to abandon it. It’s what I’ve always known. 

Jericho peered at the man’s notebook and nodded. “You are trying to understand. Other perspectives. The truth. You want confirmation. To see it with your own eyes. I understand.”

Andres turned to meet Jericho’s gaze and returned the nod.

Maria thought on the two men for a moment. They were a bit alike, but went in opposite directions. And—she could not prevent what had happened to them either.

Andres turned to Maria again and wrote, You were also raised in a Gloria orphanage like me?

Maria cocked her and nodded.

But you are neither the star nor the night sky, Andres wrote.  My intention isn’t to be rude, but: if you are neither of those, then what are you?

* * *

Atienna synchronized in frequently with Maria, but whenever she did there was something in the atmosphere that Maria could call ‘tension.’ Maria had heard Atienna’s rather angry thoughts regarding her choice to face Proteus alone—like served her right among other things. Maria admitted that she’d felt a sharp pang in her chest when Atienna’s thought had flowed on down to her, but Atienna always went away whenever Maria was prepared to ask her about it.

Atienna’s synchronization visit this time shortly after Andres’s visit, however, felt a bit different. She sat quietly at Maria’s bedside with a book in her hand and with her Cancerian surroundings faraway and distant.

“I think you know why I’m here, Maria,” Atienna said quietly. 

Maria glanced over at her and nodded. “You finally can talk about what you’ve been thinking this entire time?”

Atienna studied her for a moment before averting her gaze. “Werner won’t say it because he feels responsible for it, so I suppose I have no choice but to say it: you put everyone in danger by pushing us all away like that. You are responsible for what happened.” She folded her hands together. “Werner as well in his own case…. There is a thing they call ‘tempting fate’. Paired with denialism it can be a very troubling thing—especially when in the mind of talented and powerful individuals…” She clasped her hands together. “Maria, you always charge so recklessly into things, don’t you think? Your confidence is something  is unmatched. ‘As expected’ as Werner says—that’s what this outcome is. It would’ve happened at one point or another…”

Maria remained silent.

“We’re opposites, so… it’s very easy for me to condemn you like this. The distance…” Atienna studied her hands. “I wonder if you’re following in Leo’s footsteps after all—folly, a star falling, disappointment—”

“I am not Leo,” Maria interjected.

Atienna looked up in surprise before her face softened with sympathy. “I know it doesn’t seem like it with everything I’ve said and thought, but I do care about you, Maria. Deeply. If you hadn’t moved me to act when we first met, I would still be in Virgo. And…” She reached forward abruptly and gripped Maria’s empty shirt sleeve. “That’s why—why did you do such a stupid thing?” 

A dull throb pounded at Maria’s chest.

Atienna pulled her hand away, averted her gaze for a moment, before shaking her head and meeting Maria’s eyes again. “I’m… concerned now. I know it is contradictory of me when I say this, but your recent behavior—this shift in the way you speak and your perspective—is… cognitive dissonance. Everyone faces this at one point or another… however, the way you’re acting is… I wouldn’t have expected this…” Her lips pressed thin. “And I’m worried, Maria. What is wrong? What’s really wrong? Is it… what they taught you at the orphanage? Even if who you are is built off from those founding blocks, you are still you.”

“That’s what everyone’s been saying… but you are the first to ask me that question,” Maria noted, brows raised. She contemplated the question for a moment before she felt her brows furrow. “Atienna, you don’t know—just as you always say. It’s more than that. The reason why I push things aside easily as you say is because I believe I can overcome anything. This is who I am. This is who I have always been. I am strong. But all of it is… ” She turned to Atienna, searching her face. “If I say it for what everyone sees it as then…” 

Atienna’s brows knitted.

“Werner said to make it my own, but making it my own would be acknowledging that this wasn’t mine to begin with.” Maria pressed a hand to her chest. “It is mine. Because if it is not mine, then what is?” 

Atienna’s eyes widened a fraction before she drew nearer to Maria. She remained silent for quite some time before saying, “You’re… at a definitive crossroads, Maria… It’s certainly ironic for me to talk about this topic, but… usually when a choice needs to be made… there is the need to find the right question to ask pertaining to the path to be chosen. I don’t mean to sound egotistical but I’m rather practiced at finding this question—” She let out a breath. “—I’m just terribly at answering it…”

Maria looked down at her left hand—at where it was supposed to be, at where it was not—and acknowledged that it was gone. Gone like Conta’s love. Gone like the feeling of being able to do absolutely everything. Gone like that feeling of endless freedom.

Reality sank in. The hill loomed ahead—

—but there was value in realizing the ephemerality of things.

“So—what makes you different from all of them? Different from all of the others? Why does Epsilon think you’re Leo and not Leona herself?” Atienna murmured, slowly taking hold of Maria’s only hand and squeezing tight. “Those are the questions that you want to have answered, don’t you think?”

Oh? What made them different?

* * *

Moved by this question, Maria decided it was time to face Oros once again. But she did not intend to face Oros alone. She swung by the room containing Andres and Dominic and invited them along for the journey. Andres hastily accepted the invitation while Dominic brushed her off. So—without much ado—Maria and Andres bound the boy quickly and brought him along with them.  

Halfway through traversing through the gates to the room where both Alpha and Leona were kept, however, Maria encountered El who stumbled into her path out from a gate. Maria saw El every once in a while, but had requested El to spend her time caring for Morandi—which she’d abided by. Needless to say, Maria was surprised by her arrival.

“I heard from Andres about what you’re planning,” El explained, breathless. “I can’t explain myself properly because of my situation, but I am Leonian and I-I’d like to know. It’s my country so I… can I also be a part of this?”

Maria was quite curious about El’s reasoning but allowed El to join her without forming that curiosity into a question.

Collectively they entered the room where Proteus and Leona resided. Jericho was not on stand-by as usual but Epsilon was. Epsilon perked up at Maria’s arrival and waved wildly as she approached him with the others. 

Proteus smiled and said nothing before looking away with disinterest, while Leona evaluated them with a sharp eye. Maria studied the former and tried to catch his gaze—but he would not meet it. 

It was disappointing, Maria realized. She had imagined what her reunion with Proteus would be like for years. After learning who he truly was, what he had done, and what he believed, she found that he no longer matched up with the mysterious, grandiose, imposing image she had of him in his mind. Her curiosity had been replaced with something she couldn’t quite describe. Pity? Maybe not. Hm—

Maria wondered if this was what Conta had felt towards her after becoming Beta. She wondered if this was why Atienna didn’t want to know everything. Curiosity was fun, but truly discovering was…?

“Leo, Leo! You’re up! Are you alright to be walking around?” Epsilon crowed, pulling Maria’s attention away. “Jericho and Theta brought me some newspapers yesterday. Did you see that they’re renovating something called the Dioscuri Bridge in Gemini?  Apparently, they’ve gotten more ley-lines there to direct more vitae from the reservoirs to it so that’s why they can renovate it—” His face fell for a moment. “I don’t think that’s very good for our goal, but it still is something, isn’t it?”

Oh, Epsilon. He treated her the same as always. It was quite refreshing.

Maria beamed him a smile. “That is amazing! I will take you some time to see it if you want! Before that…” She tapped him on the chest. “Could you do something for me?”

Epsilon stilled, nodding seriously. “Anything.”

Maria lifted her finger and pointed to Leona. “I want to see what Leona remembers about 1600s. Anything from around that time.” She gestured to Andres, El, and Dominic. “I want you to show all of us.” She met Leona’s widening eyes. “I want to know the difference between me and you, Oros.”

Leona paled—a peculiar sight. “Epsilon, don’t you dare.”

Epsilon glanced at Leona for a moment with a frown before he turned back to Maria with a slow nod.  “Okay, whatever you want.” With that he began approaching Leona with his conductor-gloved hand extended.

Leona pulled back away from him but he successfully made contact with her temple and reached out for Maria who closed the distance between them. As soon as Maria touched her temple to his other gloved hand, a warmth shot through her entire body—

Maria was pulled abruptly out from the memory, and it took a moment for her to recollect herself. Andres stood stiff beside her, while El and Dominic sat trembling on the ground. Andres quickly aided El up to her feet and then Dominic. With El, he cast a hesitant look at Epsilon and Leon.

Andres’s brows furrowed as he studied the two before he put a hand to the pendant hanging at his neck. Meanwhile, Epsilon pulled his hands close to his chest and studied Leona with a tight, pale frown. Leona held the man’s gaze.

“You…” El managed. “Slaughtered ou—your own people.”

“You were weak…” Dominic whispered before he shook his head. “No, you were strong.”

Leona remained stiff. “They proved that they were no people of mine. Even after that, they created the Gloria Houses as an attempt to prevent a so-called atrocity like that from happening again. It was a means to control the next candidate. It’s ludicrous. As if they could control me. It wasn’t even worth tearing down, so I allowed it and approved of its continuation. I don’t want to be baptized into someone of lower qualities anyways.” She narrowed her eyes at El.  “And you? What do you do but run like a coward away from your people?”

El took a step back.

“I know who you are.” Leona chuckled after a beat and looked in Maria’s direction. “This is where the myth of the golden beast truly originated, Maria. That tale certainly isn’t yours. It was mine from the very beginning. You truly are a pirate—plundering and stealing what isn’t truly yours.” Briefly, she cast a glance at Epsilon.

Maria felt something uncomfortable churn in her stomach at Leona’s words but she continued to think on what she’d just seen.  “You could not save Stelleona,” she drew. “You could not save Leonce. You’re people turned against you. You were proud of them for everything they accomplished, but then things changed. You thought they were no longer your sparkling treasures. You were ashamed of them. No, you were ashamed… of yourself because you viewed them as yours. Ownership…. responsibility?”

Leona regarded her. “How did you feel when your crew mutinied against you after everything you’d done for them? Your leadership was inefficient and sloppy—obviously—but you still offered them a place to stay and protection. They threw all of that away and continued to ask for more: for forgiveness. Pathetic.” 

“…I was angry—but I don’t think I understood that at the time,” Maria admitted. “I was… very angry. Like how I was angry at Beta for taking Conta. Like how you were angry that they took Stelleona. And then I was disappointed…”

Leona’s gaze narrowed again.

Maria thought of Olive and Werner. “People who take their disappointment in themselves out on themselves are very sad to me.” She then thought of Cadence and Atienna. “People who take their disappointment in themselves out on other people are… people who have a moment of weakness. I don’t know how to feel about them in those moments, to be honest.” Finally, she thought of Jericho. “People who  are still discovering what it is to be disappointed in themselves are people I can understand. They are like me. Like you.” 

“I’d rather not be held in comparison to someone like you,” Leona responded evenly. “You are a mere tool necessary for the syzygy—”

“You have taught many things, Leona,” Maria continued. “You really did love your people. But they were not yours—not really. Like these things were given to me, those people were given to you… yes? I am starting to realize that things can get confusing if you keep thinking things are ‘yours.’”

Leona offered only a mirthless, dry laugh in response. 

“Cadence speaks of pedestals quite often. She speaks of people falling off of them specifically. I think I have fallen off a couple pedestals now—like you.” Maria thought of Conta briefly as she went over everything in her mind. “But once they are off and on the ground, why is the choice to just be disappointed in them? To turn away from them? Why is the choice not to help them back onto their feet?” 

There was a stretch of silence.

“I… know the difference between me and Leo now.” Maria nodded definitively. “I showed mercy. And I don’t—I will not—give up even if I am disappointed. Yes, I can’t do everything, but there are others who can fill in the parts I cannot do.”

Leona remained silent and merely looked away.

“I will continue to show mercy,” Maria decided, looking away from Leona and toward Proteus. “And I will continue to make it so everything that you, the priests, and everyone else has been kind enough to give me truly become mine.” She nodded in affirmation. “Yes, so thank you.”

Proteus was no longer smiling and instead gazed at her with an unreadable expression.

Maria now had an idea of what to do.

“Oh, I believe dear Olive has a plan,” Maria continued, turning to face El and Andres. “So, we should increase the size of our crew for this! We… don’t want to lose anything else, so let us be a little bit more cautious this time around…. yes?”

* * *

Comientzo, Leo

Morandi was awake when Maria entered his hospital room. His face was much fuller compared to when she had last seen him, but his hair was much grayer too. As soon as he laid eyes upon her, his expression brightened but then became pained. He shot up immediately to a sit, but El, who had returned to tending to him at his bedside, pushed him back down.

Maria felt an uncomfortable pang in her chest at this sight—a pain she could not prevent, something else she could not do. In fact, she was the cause of it.

“Captain, I was worried for you,” Morandi said as she drew nearer. His eyes sauntered to her left—her empty sleeve. “I see you’ve…” He reached out and gripped the sleeve and shook his head, eyes watering. “Maria…” 

Maria sank to her knees and rested her head on his lap. “Morandi is a very nice surname, dear Morandi. So… Can you give it to me?”

Morandi at first stiffened at the action and stiffened even further at the question. His next words were, however, spoken in a gentle tone, “Captain, what’s gotten into you?”

Maria didn’t answer him. After a long while, she felt a hand warm her head. 

“Please get better, dear Morandi,” she said to him quietly. “And then we can talk a lot more. And then I can get to know you better.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve discovered recently that adventure is not limited just to physical things, yes…? You can adventure through things you cannot touch too. That is freedom too. I would like to adventure through those things with you. If you want, of course, dear Morandi.”

A pause.

“Of course, Captain.”

* * *

Hapaira, Pisces

Maria was eager to find Veles and knew exactly where was. Rather, Jericho had some intuition on where he might be. And Jericho was quite good with intuition, so she followed it without question.

Entering on through one of Francis’s gates with Andres and Albatross accompanying her, Maria made her way to the familiar old surfboard shop that she had first met Lita in. She barely entered the shade of the store before a familiar rumbling reached her ears. Upon turning, she spied the canals spider-webbing through the town in the distance. They were beginning to pulsate with purple light. In the blink of an eye, those waters burst out from their containments and hurtled down towards them—rising, rising, rising with each crashing wave.

Albatross took a startled step back, while Andres remained steady.

The taste of the sea and the brush of the ocean breeze graced Maria’s senses before the towering wall of water loomed before her. She greeted the rumbling wave with a wave of her own and was not surprised as the wave stopped short only meters away from her.

A faint mist rained down as the moving mass groaned and lurched, and Maria wiped her face clean of it as she looked back at Albatross and Andres. Albatross was trembling while Andres appeared impassive. So, Maria reached out and offered Albatross a squeeze on the shoulder and a reassuring smile.

“You dare stand before me again?” Veles’s deep voice abruptly boomed all around them as the waters glowed and shook. “After you have dared to betray my trust? Without bringing before me the one I demand?”

“There are some things I cannot do,” Maria shouted back, cupping her hands around her mouth, “and understanding people easily is one of them. I got better at it but I failed to continue getting better at it, so I am sorry for not understanding you! Beta took your people from you and hurt your guild members! I would also be very upset if that happened to me—I would be more than upset. I would be furious! Having people taken from you is not a good feeling!” 

The rumbling stilled and the water itself stilled—so much so that it more resembled a wall of ice than anything else.

“And having a crew member or guild member not understand that and brush that away would make me very sad!” she continued. “But you were kind, yes? You showed mercy! By not going after Conta after you saw how important she was to me! I am sorry for not realizing!” 

The waters parted like a curtain and out from the newly formed gap stepped Veles. He looked the same as ever.

Maria brightened at the sight of him, and she could see him brighten too before a seriousness eclipsed his features.

“Your apologies are heard and accepted because—as you say—I, Veles, am merciful,” he declared, nodding as he neared her. “So I expect that you are coming here to announce that you will bring Beta’s head to me.”

“I’m sorry, dear Veles, but another thing I cannot do is hand over Conta to you,” Maria replied. When Veles’s gaze visibly darkened, she pressed. “What I can do for you is to make it so Beta never returns again.”

“What?”

“Beta is an ELPIS Leader,” Maria explained. “The only reason Beta is here is because of the saint candidates and this syzygy, yes? You learned more about it through your people near the Aquarian-Capricornian border, no?”

Veles’s eyes widened a fraction, and he opened his mouth to respond before startling abruptly. He rushed towards her and took hold of her armless sleeve. “Your arm…!” He pushed his face into hers and studied her. “Impossible. How could this happen? Did you do this out of your own volition? You had to have. You are only one step below my own prowess, so it’s impossible for you to be injured like—”

“I lost,” Maria admitted, heart sinking again. 

Veles regarded her in stiff silence. “You lost…?”

Maria nodded. “And because I lost, I know I cannot do everything on my own. I am strong, but even I cannot do that much, yes? You probably heard from the others—like I said—about the situation with the saint candidates. But I  know you are different from them, so I wanted to apologize to you and ask you directly. You deserve as much, no?”

Veles slowly released her sleeve. “Yes, I’m glad that you realize my significant difference from those around me and my individual greatness…” His brows furrowed. “‘Ask me directly’—you say? Ask me what?”

“I know you have helped me a lot already”—Maria beamed— “but, dear Veles, can you help me again?”

---

a/n: this was almost 17k words. also day 160000 of regretting using colored text in this story because it takes fifteen years to format coloring. the next chapter will probably be out next wednesday and another chapter maybe that sunday ((not saturday because i’ve been invited to a wine festival with a friend))

anywho anhow–thanks for reading. we’re almost at the end of this part–yeehaw im dead inside. oh late chapter because work + i’m doing an online bootcamp thing but i think i’m going to set the bootcamp aside to just write + work until p4 is finished because my priorities are straight. so hopefully back on track version 1000

O->–<

oh i also wanted to thank the people who’ve been supportive to me on twitter recently!! i really appreciate it even though we don’t talk much!! i shall remember you forever!!!