Octavia could still remember the first night she'd cradled Stradivaria in her arms. It seemed like one thousand years ago. She didn't believe the true span of time it had actually been, too short to be reasonable. She could still vividly recall the snowflakes that had scattered onto her bedsheets, much the same, and she would cherish that memory for the rest of her life. Octavia had hoped that she could cherish the former. She still faltered, even at the very end. It hurt.

She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't have a choice.

It was sobering to consider that they were the last of their kind in the world--and not for long. She, technically, was not, sharing her light with one and one other alone. There was no relief in the thought, nor was there jealousy. She didn't particularly want to confront him, either. Really, her legacy had been tainted by deceit, and it was Mixoly alone she lamented losing. Octavia hadn't spoken to Ramulus, let alone been involved with him in any capacity, since guiding the forsaken Muse. She sat somewhere squarely between fear and confidence, for how there was so little he could do to counter the Ambassador. The Lord of All needed her. That was a fact, Mixoly's freedom be damned.

Hey.

Octavia couldn't be bothered to greet him by name. If her words were tainted with disrespect, she didn't care. Stratos was lucky she held him at all, gently aloft in her hands as he was.

I am here.

And for how his tone was as deceptively gentle as ever, her disdain almost felt unwarranted. Octavia swallowed the faintest thought of an apology. After all, he'd lent her his light against Faith. He could very well have declined--possibly. She'd never quite figured out how that worked. The idea of stealing it from him instead didn't bother Octavia as much as she'd thought it would.

What's left?

She'd given them three days. It had been enough. For how many times Octavia had seen the same question unspoken in their eyes, it was an obligation to ask. It was a question for the Ambassador alone to offer up.

He awaits you, once your task is through.

Somehow, she'd almost forgotten. She'd wanted to, so desperately. Perhaps that, too, had lingered in their eyes, and she kicked herself for being too dense to notice. I have to do that first?

It is how it should be.

Octavia paused, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She felt sick, mildly. For all she'd done mentally to prepare, it was still unfathomable. It was surreal. I can't…do it later?

I have told you of his rationale.

Octavia sighed heavily. Can't he make an exception?

He could not, then, guarantee their safe passage.

I did all of this for him--for you guys. Can't I just have that much?

This is how it should be, Stratos repeated.

She was silent for a moment. What about you, then?

I shall accompany you.

Octavia rolled her eyes. Of course you get special treatment.

Do you detest me?

It was a question she hardly knew how to answer. You lied to me. I have a feeling you're still lying to me, even if I don't know about what. How am I supposed to believe anything you say? How do I even know you're telling the truth about how to do this?

I would not lie about this.

Because you're already lying about other stuff, right? she argued internally.

Octavia, I would not--

"What are you doing?"

She outright jumped, for how suddenly she'd been interrupted. Octavia wasn't sure exactly what possessed her to reflexively try to conceal Stradivaria. It wasn't as though she was necessarily doing anything worth hiding him for, simply holding him as she was.

"N-Nothing," she stammered.

Viola raised an eyebrow. "You were making faces."

Octavia flushed. Silent arguments had visual consequences, apparently. "I-I just…sorry."

"Are you okay?"

She sighed. "Honestly? Not…really."

Viola didn't press. For a far longer moment than was comfortable, Octavia, too, didn't speak. When Viola's eyes found the carpet instead of her own, she missed them immediately. She hated their sorrow.

"We're going to have to do it eventually."

Octavia couldn't bring herself to nod. "I know."

"When…do you--"

For how long she'd awaited the question, she stuffed it back down Viola's throat as quickly as was possible. "I'd really like to do the other one first."

She tilted her head. "I thought you said the last Muse had to go…well, last."

Octavia groaned. "I mean, that's what Stratos said, but I really wish they'd just make an exception. I mean, I'm the Ambassador. Shouldn't I get a say?"

"Tell him that."

"Tried."

Viola thought for a moment. "And you can't just bring that Muse here instead?"

She shook her head. "I have to go to them. They're going to call for me."

"What does that even entail?"

Truthfully, she didn't know.

It had only happened twice--once on the cusp of death, and once more on the cusp of truth. It wasn't voluntary, and Octavia had gathered that much already. She was almost fearful she wouldn't get a say, falling asleep only to awaken upon that distant shoreline once more. If Stratos had his way, four obstacles would bar her path to a place she still hardly understood. Octavia could stall forever, if she wished. She would be no better than River, in that way.

"To be honest, I don't…actually know. I think I know where it is. I've been there before."

Viola blinked. "Been…where?"

She hesitated to even say. Whether or not the place Rani surely awaited her constituted part of the spider web, Octavia was unsure. It was risky just to admit. To be fair, she was already in this deep. "To the place where that Muse is. He's…somewhere special. I don't think it's anywhere I could travel to myself. He's called me there before, and I've gotten to see it. I've…gotten to meet him."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, are we talking about the same Muse? You've actually met their Lord of All?"

She nodded.

Viola was speechless for a moment. "What was he like?"

Octavia smirked. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

There was something laughable in the concept of Viola reacting to the sight of Rani, knowing what rested deep within the girl's heart. It wasn't as though she had a heart of her own. It was a fact Octavia had mostly forgotten about until now, and it made her stomach churn to remember. It wasn't her greatest idea to think about it again.

"What if we went with you?"

Octavia hesitated. "What?"

"What if we…went to that place with you?" Viola offered, just as hesitant as she held herself tightly. "We could…do it there, and you could do what you need to do after. We could do it all at once. We'd get the chance to say goodbye."

The idea both warmed Octavia's heart and made it race uncomfortably. For how Stratos had shot her down again and again, she feared pressing him.

Is that possible?

That place is for the Ambassador and the Ambassador alone.

Octavia scowled. This is ridiculous. I don't want to leave them behind, Stratos.

It is what must be--

"I don't care!" she snapped.

It was only when she saw Viola recoil at her volume that she tensed. It hadn't been her intent to free her agitation one bit, and she flushed once again.

"Octavia?" Viola murmured with worry.

It was too much. For as badly as she wished to leave him behind, she gathered the violin in her arms anyway as she stormed out the front door. Her trail was aimless. Her anger was not, guided on a path to Stratos only. Keeping it in, at least verbally, was a nightmare. It followed in her shadow with every step, whether carpeted or cloaked in plush greenery tickling her boots. It challenged the cloudless sky above, blessing her with blue skies lost in the wake of her ire.

"I'm not doing it."

Octavia?

The breeze rustling her braids was of zero comfort. For how her skin burned and her blood did much the same, her insides felt hotter than the sun. It was uncontrollable, and she was lucky she wasn't shouting.

"I'm not going if they can't come."

I have told you why.

"I'm not friggin' doing it!"

Not shouting wasn't working. It wasn't subtle. To anyone who'd watched, whether of the Maestro world or otherwise, the sight of her screaming at a violin would've been baffling. She was well aware of how it looked. Octavia didn't care, and any self-consciousness she could've carried was non-existent. For the way her eyes were his in turn, she stared him down with all of the rage she could muster.

"I'm not letting Ramulus take me there if they're not coming with me! I'm not witnessing a single one of them if they're not by my side over there, and I'm damn sure not going blindly along with whatever you say anymore! I'm the Ambassador, damn it! You want my help so bad? You want me to wrap this up? Then either make an exception, or find a new Ambassador, because I'm not leaving here without them!"

She was shaking. He was silent. Only the sunshine was her witness.

"You can't make me. You can't make me do anything. This is my decision--this one, if nothing else. You had your turn. You've all had your turn pushing me around, and it's my turn now. Either they come with me, or I quit. It's as simple as that."

There was still the tiniest pang of fear that came with the threat each and every time it left Octavia's mouth. Still, it was powerful. It was raw, weighted in a way Stratos couldn't fight with words. She knew it to be true. It was a gamble, just as every sentence she spoke to him nowadays was.

"Are you alright?"

The second time around, Octavia wasn't as startled. Her ire wasn't localized to one interloper alone, and that had been her fault. After all, she'd been borderline screaming. For how specific her words had been, she somewhat dreaded the possibility they would gather the puzzle pieces she'd dropped carelessly in the grass. Even of those who knew of the spider web, she doubted they'd have what they needed to assemble the truth of the Ambassador. That, at least, was a relief.

Octavia didn't answer, content to grip Stradivaria so harshly that her fingernails dug into the mahogany. It wasn't as though he'd bend beneath her violent grasp--although she sometimes wished he would. Her heaving shoulders and narrowed eyes did her no favors, for the subtlety she'd long since known to have evaporated.

"Is…everything okay?" Harper asked hesitantly. "We could hear you shouting."

It took all that she had to conjure a deep breath and the sigh that followed. She feared for redirection of rage none of them deserved. "I don't want to do this alone."

"Do what alone?" Madrigal tried.

She hadn't spoken of it much. It wasn't something she could keep hidden for much longer, and she could at least pick and choose her puzzle pieces. Ramulus was a Muse, after all. They were Maestros. That much wouldn't change.

"I need to go somewhere. The…last Muse besides ours, he's somewhere really specific. If I witness all of ours, he'll call for me. It's like I said. He has to be the last one."

Josiah nodded, crossing his arms. "I remember you saying as much."

"But Stratos wants me to go alone," she nearly growled, "and I don't want to. Maybe I'm being selfish, but for everything it took to get here, I wanted to see this through together. I don't want to be the only one finishing this up."

"Tell him to shove it, then," Renato offered, just a bit too harshly relative to who he was talking about. "You're the friggin' Ambassador, not him."

For how much she'd tried, she didn't bother saying as much. Octavia didn't have the words to disagree. She didn't disagree with the sentiment in the first place.

And for all she'd already discussed with Viola, the Soulful girl still tried her best to think along with her. "There's nothing you can do to convince him?"

Her singular threat had gone unanswered. As much as Octavia hoped it was sinking in, ideally meaningful in some capacity, she had one more idea. It wasn't quite truly deceitful. It still felt unsettlingly dishonest, just a little bit.

She didn't care that they watched her cradle him in her arms, hugging his vessel tightly to her chest. She closed her eyes, embracing the sunshine that settled cautiously upon her skin. It was the only warmth she'd find. Part of her really did miss Stratos' comfort. Octavia hated to even think it, and it was an uncontrollable thought all the same.

Please. This is…all I'm asking.

He didn't deserve her gentleness.

You keep telling me how great of an Ambassador I am. You guys kept giving me all this praise and gratitude. I went as far as I possibly could for you--for all of you. I did everything I could possibly do. I can't think of a single thing more I could give. Just this once, I want something for myself. I'm not asking for much.

He didn't deserve her love.

Stradivaria, she begged, please.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He didn't deserve any of it, and she hoped he couldn't feel the lies that tainted her heart. In truth, she wondered how much of it was really a lie. His once-tender alias in her head was foreign, somewhere between bitter and sweet even in passing. She held her breath, holding him close much the same.

And you will still carry out what must be done?

Even with Stratos' words deep within rather than without, her nod was reflexive. I'll do whatever you want, if that's really what it takes.

Again, he was silent. Octavia's heart pounded relentlessly.

Gather them.

It could've exploded. For what was to come, she couldn't smile. It wasn't worth beaming over, relieved as her heart felt and blessed as her soul came to be. His words were gentle to match her own. It was all she'd needed, and it was almost surprising.

Now?

Yes.

That, at least, was a bit more of a surprise. She hesitated to relay his message, and she turned to them with an unintentional slowness. It occurred to her that they'd watched her converse in utter silence for a full minute, if they'd known she was conversing at all. Octavia liked to imagine that they would've understood.

"He said…if you guys want to come, we have to do it now."

It was as she'd suspected. Granted, the shock on their faces was far more palpable than her own, exceedingly visible in every way. Octavia felt awful for pressuring them. She saw no other option, and Stratos gave her none to begin with.

"W-We're doing this now?" Harper stammered.

She nodded. They hesitated. Octavia didn't blame them.

Viola tangled her fingers together. "I-I…we're…guiding them while we're there?"

Again, she nodded. Again, they hesitated, and once more were they faultless.

"I didn't think we were saying goodbye today," Madrigal murmured sadly, her voice wobbling in the slightest.

Josiah's hand settling onto her shoulder did little to ease her sorrow. "We would've had to do it at some point. It's…going to get harder the longer we wait. They need to go."

Even if Octavia wanted to, she couldn't believe in Renato's confidence. "Then we'll see 'em off the right way. I'll go."

He echoed.

"I'll go."

"I'll…go."

"I'll go, too."

It was Viola's eyes on hers that were the softest of all. "I'll go anywhere you go," she said, just as soft.

There were no tears, for as much as Octavia considered making them. It was as selfish as it was worth it, dragging them down with her one last time. She stuffed her apologies into the depths of her heart, regardless of how desperately they struggled to burst free. It ached. If she'd offered them up, anyway, she knew the responses she'd get. That, at least, was a comfort. It dulled the pain in their eyes, somewhat, and she clung to that warmth with all she could muster.

Some of them had to gather their cases. Some didn't, for how close they stayed to their hearts and sides at all times. Octavia awaited them with patience and anxiety alike, and they returned much the same anxieties with their gazes alone. It was surreal, once more, the way by which they were the last of their kind--soon no longer to be so.

They'd been coincidences, and she, too, was a coincidence in both the best and worst way. There was a part of Octavia that thought to implore them to cherish their legacies for a final time, to treasure the sensation of fire on one's lips and wind at one's fingertips. As to whether it mattered more than the companionship that accompanied such power, she wasn't sure. Somehow, she doubted it.

Octavia still held the violin close, if not even more tightly than before. "How do I do this?" she whispered aloud.

There is nothing to fear. All will be granted to you.

He had said she'd be called for, after all. Even now, there was an inkling of fear that came with the idea that Stratos was lying yet again. If she were to arrive at that place once more alone and unaccompanied, she hadn't quite decided how she'd react just yet. It would surely be anything but positive.

Octavia scanned their eyes, as confused as they were splashed with suspense. She gripped his vessel all the more firmly.

"Am I…going to be--"

She never found her words. She couldn't find anything. She'd never done this while conscious before, her last two voyages made in the depths of the dark--different in every way as they'd been. This time, Octavia's eyes were wide open. It was perhaps to her detriment, given the blinding radiance that besieged her pupils. It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected it to, nor largely at all. For how used she was to going down, the odd sensation of going up was exceedingly disorienting--false or otherwise. Where she'd expected the world to go black, it went utterly white instead.

It was the first time in weeks that she'd trusted Stratos. It was the one time that mattered. She prayed.

Octavia braced for the sand. She braced for the salt in the air and the sting it cursed her lungs with. She braced for the roar of an ocean she'd only just begun to get used to seeing. She didn't particularly want to brace for the waves that threatened to crash around her feet, given what had occurred on her previous voyage.

She'd somewhat wondered, in passing, how she was to be expected to explain it to them, for as little as she still understood. Rani--Ramulus, perhaps--had explained such a mysterious place to her in turn, and she'd squandered his clarity regardless. She could pick out words. She could pick out concepts. She could recall some aspects, and she could regurgitate them in the poorest way imaginable. It was, at this point, largely impossible not to entangle them in the spider web, if they were to stand here alongside her. Octavia hoped they at least enjoyed the view.

They never got one. She, too, had never stood here in her life, for there was nothing upon which to stand at all.

There was a moment in which Octavia was convinced she was dreaming. It was almost the reverse of a toll, blighted by light on every side in lieu of the darkness she'd learned to embrace without resistance. Still, she could move. She could breathe. She was untethered by the thick, clouded weight that crushed her in every way as she'd stolen the eyes of stranger after stranger.

Octavia flexed the fingers that clutched Stradivaria experimentally. The fact that she was holding him at all was a miracle in and of itself. As to what burning nostalgia bored holes in her head, she couldn't pinpoint it. She didn't particularly enjoy the ambiguous feeling, nor did it make sense. She'd never been here. It was impossible to "go" to nowhere itself.

Octavia glanced at her feet, and her feet touched nothing. She grasped at the air, and her fingers touched nothing. She briefly entertained that she had died, and yet the sharp pains that accompanied her fingernails digging into her palms once more spoke to the opposite. She was almost afraid to test her voice, sure to be lost in whatever soft and indescribable sounds continuously greeted her ears.

She couldn't put her finger on them, gentle in a way that resonated through her heart and touched her soul. They echoed--not quite loud and not quite unwelcome--on every side, enveloping her in whatever the absolute opposite of agony was sure to sound like. Octavia couldn't decide whether or not she enjoyed it.

"Okay, what the hell."

It was a statement rather than a question. It was a relief that flooded every vein, and she breathed a heavy breath that she had no idea she'd been holding. Even crass as Renato's reaction was, Octavia was more than grateful that her disorientation wasn't localized. She was far, far more glad that she wasn't alone.

"What…is this?" she heard Harper murmur. It wasn't as though Octavia had a solid answer for him.

Their eyes on her weren't surprising, and still she could offer them no clarity. It was with hesitant steps that she touched nothing time after time, half-expecting to fall--whether to her death or otherwise, she didn't want to consider. "I don't know," she finally breathed.

"You said you've…been here before?" Viola asked tentatively.

Octavia shook her head. "Not here. Somewhere else. I…thought that's where we were going. I don't know where we are."

"It sounds pretty," Madrigal added anyway, hugging Lyra's Repose tightly against her chest.

Josiah stuffed his hands into his pockets. "What is that sound supposed to be?"

Octavia wasn't the only one who found the drive to move forward, empty as their horizon was. It was all she could think to do, and they followed in her wake. It was aimless, almost futile, and she felt bad for leading them to believe otherwise. After all, they were here at her insistence. "I don't know," she repeated again.

Harper sounded equally as hesitant as she felt. She couldn't blame him. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

It was enough to make her wince, regardless. Octavia didn't particularly like the idea of the alternative. "I had…no say in this. This is just where we ended up. It has to be."

"So then…where is 'here'?"

And to that, she had no answer yet again. She thought to ask Stratos once more, already grasping his vessel on either side. She never made it that far.

"Ambassador."

Octavia didn't jump. She wasn't startled. It was the first time, frankly, that she'd kept her composure around him--her, maybe, although she still hadn't fully decided. For how suddenly the girl had appeared in what amounted to emptiness incarnate, she'd expected to be more afraid. It had only taken three encounters to grow used to Rani, round eyes and all. Whatever panic she'd once felt upon the girl's spontaneous appearances, then, was deflected well behind her. At least one of them screamed. It was almost enough to make her crack a smile in such a disorienting place.

"God, what the hell?" Renato exclaimed, almost identically verbatim to before.

Viola, by comparison, was perhaps just as stricken with confusion as Octavia had once been. The Soulful Maestra didn't make it even one-third of the way into a full sentence. "W-What…"

Octavia wondered how much of a problem it would start to acknowledge Rani. She wouldn't have a choice eventually, anyway.

"You're…here," she said softly.

"And you have come," Ramulus answered back. His deep tone through the mouth of such a small child was still just as unsettling as it had always been.

The longer they stared, the more their confusion was almost amusing. In particular, the discrepancy of his voice versus her appearance wasn't lost on them. At this point, ten cherry oak fingers were now tangled in a mess of curls. "Oh my God, what the hell!" Renato outright cried once more. "Seriously?"

"It's…a little girl?" Harper asked, raising an eyebrow. Still, the way his voice was shaking more than betrayed his surprise.

"Octavia, do you know her?" Madrigal whispered.

Octavia nodded. "This is Rani," she introduced vaguely. "She's…"

She faltered. There were two possible introductions she could go with, in truth. Neither carried a simple answer. She could always opt for both at once, although the absolute shock that would ripple through them would be impossible to mediate. She went with the easier one first.

"She's the Maestra for the Lord of All," Octavia concluded.

Viola recoiled. "She's so young, for…who her Muse is, I suppose."

"Okay, but why the hell does she sound like that?" Renato asked almost desperately, gesturing wildly to the little Maestra in question. "I'm pretty sure she's not supposed to sound like that! She's like, what, seven?"

It was an answer Octavia was terrified of giving. Even now, the thought was repulsive. For all it had taken to get them here, she didn't particularly want them to get the wrong impression of Ramulus immediately. Again, she chose her words with care.

"He's an Apex," Octavia started. "He's the...Apex of Heart, remember? He can…do that."

It wasn't quite enough to elicit a sigh of relief from any of them. Still, it was enough to placate them, at least temporarily. For how he addressed her instead, she was glad she'd garnered their peace in time.

"This place was intended for the Ambassador alone," he spoke through Rani once more.

Octavia couldn't tell if he was scolding her or reminding her. She didn't care. "I won't do this without them. They've gotten me this far. I wouldn't have been able to do all of this without them, and I wanted to see this through to the end with them. I…appreciate you making an exception. Thank you."

She didn't want to thank him for anything. She hadn't fully cooled her anger from their last confrontation. Part of her anxiously awaited any mention of Mixoly. She knew he knew, for how Stratos and Jasse knew in turn--the former in particular. At the same time, Octavia was afraid to compromise the one blessing Ramulus had offered to her. Given that she wasn't even sure where she was, she partially bit her tongue. She didn't swallow her words enough to halt every inquiry.

"Where are we?" she asked at last, stealing the question before another could take it from her lips. "This…isn't where you took me last time."

Ramulus was quiet for a moment. "Silence."

She blinked. She'd heard the term in his voice at least once, and it burned not to recall the context in full. "Silence?"

Rani nodded. "It is as I had told you at that time. That place was no true Silence. Instead, you now stand in its embrace."

Her eyes widened. For those tinted with complete and utter confusion behind her, everything that clicked was in stark contrast to how lost they'd become.

"The boundary," Octavia tried. She still wasn't entirely sure if they were one and the same.

When Rani nodded again, she at last had her answer. "Indeed."

"Wait, what?" Viola murmured, baffled.

"Octavia, what are you talking about?" Josiah half-whispered to her.

Still, her focus was on Rani alone. "You…made it here, then?"

"It is not perfect. It is close."

It was almost a relief, a testament to her hard work. It still left six outliers, and she was well aware of that part. "Why did you bring us here?"

Ramulus didn't waver. "This is where I am to depart. Your final task shall be carried out from here alone. Once the deed is done, I shall close the boundary for all time, and the two realms shall converge nevermore."

"Dude, you have no idea how lost I am right now," Renato muttered.

Octavia tried her best. It was her fault for tangling them up. It was the least she could do to tear the web apart, thread by thread.

"This is the…boundary between us and Above," she began. "He had to rebuild it--the way to get to it, at least. Every time I guided a Muse, this is where they had to go, I think. I don't know if they could get through without help."

She knew of one that couldn't. For the life of her, Octavia kept her mouth shut. She prayed and prayed that Ramulus would do the same.

"I'm gonna assume we can't go in there to visit," Harper half-joked. The discomfort in his eyes spoke to something other than any semblance of humor. Octavia didn't try to dissect it.

Octavia's tentative steps closer to the little Maestra were made further unsteady with every glance into the same hollow eyes, for what she knew them to lack. Eventually, she was sure one of them would ask. She still refused to be the one to bring it up, if at all possible. She wondered if Ramulus would do her the favor himself.

"Can I see you, then?" she asked, folding her hands neatly in front of her dress. She didn't want to give him respect. At the same time, she didn't dare start a problem.

"You cannot."

Octavia flinched. Initially, she thought his words to be venomous, and she was tempted to respond with much the same tone. She struggled to cool the heated words that bubbled beneath her tongue. "W-Why not?" she asked simply instead.

He was far calmer than her. "I am imperceptible to your material eyes, Ambassador. I cannot take the form you have granted to so many others. This child is all I may offer. I pray you will understand."

Octavia blinked. It wasn't the worst explanation he could've given her, considering who he was. It was better than the hostilities she'd expected instead. "R-Right," she stammered. "That's…fine. Can I still…do what I need to do like this?"

Rani nodded yet again. "It will be of no concern. We are but one and the same. You are aware of such, and I know this to be true."

Josiah raised an eyebrow. "Wait, what does that mean?"

She should've known it would've been him. So much for the easy introduction. The complicated one rode on the tail end of a deep breath. "Rani is his Maestra, but Rani is also…him. She's a…I guess you could consider her a Harmonial Instrument."

And, given their absolute shock, as she'd expected all along, she doubted she was going to keep the details of such a bond secret for much longer.

"How is that even possible?" Viola cried. "She's a human!"

Madrigal shook her head in disbelief, her curls nearly hitting her in the face in the process. "That doesn't make any sense. Where is she? Can we talk to her?"

Octavia gulped. She ultimately refused. She let Ramulus do it, pleading with her horrified eyes to Rani's own cold, dead gaze.

"This child is not alive," he explained, his words upon lips that couldn't form their own all the more jarring. "She perished upon her first breaths in this realm. She has no heart, and it is mine alone that rests within her. You will not find her voice, for she has none with which to speak."

And they, too, had none collectively, for how they stared the small child down with absolute horror. What exclamations of terror and repulsion Octavia had expected were utterly absent, filled only with silence that challenged the boundary itself.

"She was…stillborn," Josiah interpreted quietly. "And you…took her."

Rani nodded in silence of her own--eternal or otherwise.

The boy spoke nothing more. She'd half-expected him to chide the unseen Muse, whether out of disgusted ire or otherwise. Instead, she was unsure as to whether his lack of objection was attributable to the Lord of All's title or something more altogether. Octavia was afraid to ask. She didn't.

"And you…still have to go last?" she murmured hesitantly instead.

"It is true."

Octavia thought to press him for another exception. In Ramulus' defense, that condition at least made sense. "So, I have to…"

Even as she trailed off, she knew he'd understand. Rani nodded for the thousandth time, body language speaking where she could not. "Now is the time for them to return."

It was with a heavy heart that she watched his words resonate amongst them. Octavia said nothing, for how their eyes said it all. They, too, were speechless, largely unmoving. She was disoriented, somewhat, given the way by which she hadn't quite coped with the concept of making it this far. In such a disorienting place already, still beautifully empty as it was, she once again wondered when she'd wake up. For somewhere called Silence, it wasn't very silent, and she still enjoyed the soft and mysterious sounds that she failed to describe even now. Their own silence was more than enough to compensate.

Octavia was their executioner. She couldn't stand to meet the eyes of a single one. She couldn't decide who to first curse with loneliness and a severed bond that burned from the inside-out. She thought to start with herself, for how little she cherished him anymore. She sighed heavily. Part of her wished she could cry.

She rapped two fingernails against the mahogany, and the gentle glow of ivory and golds she'd once loved bloomed into starlight for one more meeting. Stratos was calm and just as quiet. Octavia was in equal measure, although likely for a different reason altogether. She wondered if he'd miss her in absolutely any capacity. She doubted it. It took her far, far too long to find her words. Ultimately, Octavia was more captivated by his silence than the final bursts of luminous hues preceding the end behind her.

"I don't have to guide you second-to-last or anything, right? You can just…go?"

He was still. He was speechless.

Octavia rolled her eyes. "You can be as angry as you want. I don't care anymore. I really did love you once, you know. This is your own fault. In the end, we both got what we wanted, didn't we? That's enough."

And still, Stratos was silent. She raised an eyebrow.

"Be that way, then. You're a pain in my ass right up until the end. I wish I could say I'm surprised," she spat.

When he continued to offer her nothing at all, Octavia resisted the urge to growl in aggravation. She didn't want his gratitude. Even so, for all she'd done for him, any form of acknowledgement would've been nice.

It broke her heart to glance backwards. She regretted doing so instantly, for how four sets of hands had filled with vessels far more beloved than her own. Their eyes carried their love and their melancholy in equal measure. Octavia envied it, somewhat. If she was to be their fearless leader, she could do them the favor of taking the first hit.

Completed as their tolls were, it would only take words she'd grown used to feeling on her tongue ninety times over. It raised a single question she vaguely remembered the answer to, from what Stratos had told her. Still, it didn't hurt to double-check, given that her fingers were already around his vessel regardless.

Octavia raised her eyes to Rani instead. "You've already paid your toll, right?"

Ramulus, too, only offered her silence. It was getting irritating. The way Stratos gazed down at her in utter quiet even now felt almost condescending. It suited their legacies. She didn't bother asking twice, summoning the words that had come to reside as a reflex on her lips instead. She could taste every syllable, and she knew they'd sting the other four times she spoke them. This one would be easy.

"I will."

Octavia froze. She raised her eyes from Stradivaria once more, the words she'd readied equally as halted as the fingers settling atop the violin's scroll. Instead, she stared only at Rani, motionless and offering her nothing but the dead gaze she was growing used to.

"I…what?" Octavia asked aloud.

"The toll will be paid."

She blinked. "What do you mean 'will'? Didn't you…pay it already?"

He paused. Octavia tilted her head upwards towards a different Heartful Muse entirely. "You said he paid his toll, right?"

Stratos averted his faceless gaze. Again, it was all she could do to blink, more confused than anything.

"What are you ignoring me for?" she finally snapped. "You're being a jerk. At least say something to me, for everything I've done for you! I did all of this to--"

"It is the Ambassador alone who will pay the toll."

Octavia didn't move. For a moment, she didn't breathe.

"I…already paid my tolls," she explained, her attention on Rani as she gestured towards Stratos. "Drey and Priscilla. That was enough, right? It only has to be one to--"

"The Ambassador," Ramulus spoke calmly, "shall serve as the final toll."

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