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“If you had the chance, would you try to find her?”

Watching the stars pass in Tartaria, Elyas pondered the question. A few months ago, the answer would have been a resounding yes, and to hell with the consequences. But now he found the resolve to be false, the desire quenched. He had been blaming this woman for most everything to have happened to him since he first attempted returning to Aberddu. For a few moments, he had even blamed her for his change in personality and memory as they sought the staff of the Phoenix shaman, before realising how foolish it was; she was half a world away if not dead, and had nothing to do with the troubles the Guild had faced. The desire to kill his party had been strong, and it reminded him of his time as a mercenary with her, murder for the sheer joy of the blood and gold; when it had passed Elyas had felt shame not just over the deception he had been under, but the anger he had felt for almost a year.

“If you had the chance, would you kill her?”

Not anymore. Elyas knew that since he had wandered into Blackwall Prison, he had become a different man to the one who had followed her out of Albion with the promise of gold and more. The man he had been, the man his father had tried to make him would have murdered her without a second thought for her betrayal. The man he had become under her guiding hand would have done the same. But the man he was now was something else. Elliot Machera had failed so many times in his life. He had failed his father, his master, himself. Elyas was no longer that man; Elliot had died the day her blade had slid between his ribs, as her cronies’ clubs had descended upon his skull, as he had fell into the dirt to watch his life blood pool on the road. But his body had lived on, and his soul had been given another chance by the name of Elyas, and whomever had healed his wounds on that day was owed a great deal of gratitude. Shouldering his leather pack and blanket, Elyas set off walking in a vague, easterly direction.

“If you had the chance, would you forgive her?”

He paused, realising he couldn’t answer this final question. Elyas wished that he could, but no matter how he imagined a meeting with her occurring, he could not imagine the outcome, one way or another. He could forgive her. He could arrest her, though her crimes were also Elliot’s’. He could kill her, or be killed, but that wouldn’t solve anything. He could simply walk away. Considering everything that had occurred while they had traveled and fought together, none of these solutions seemed like a decent conclusion. Elyas sighed. Whatever happened, it would be an interesting day when he looked upon Lydia’s face again. Whatever happened, Elyas resolved to deal with it, as a Law follower should. Everything else was up to chance.