Hey guys! I took this story down for minor editing (i.e. line breaks, grammar, better wording/summary etc.) So it's back up now and (hopefully) a little better and clearer. Enjoy!

AN: This story is officially AU after The Evertree.

It was boring. To sit in a cell and do nothing day after day after day. He was a prisoner and the enemy. The Greencloaks stopped questioning him a while ago. They had learned that there was nothing to get out of him. He didn't even have anyone to talk to. The other prisoners had been picked off one by one, by food poisoning. It was a trap. Die by starvation or die by poison. He couldn't even talk to his spirit animal, for heaven's sake. It had been killed in battle, a long time ago. An arrow down the throat, into the stomach, and skewering it. Shot by the very girl he had thought he could trust. It didn't even look injured. But it was dead. Even the Great Beasts were gone. Gerathon had disappeared from his mind the moment the moment Tellun had set him free from the serpent's grasp. Kovo had never been in his mind to begin with. He heard foot steps. Someone was coming. Maybe it won't be so boring today.

Conor turned around the corner and walked toward the cell. Number 3837. He stopped in front of it. A chair was pulled from nearby and he sat down on it. And he watched the prisoner. There was no response.

"Hello?"

"What do you want?" came the bitter and annoyed response.

"Nothing. I'm here to deliver news." Rather sad news. A pause.

"Well then what is it?"

"I'm surprised that you want to know. I didn't think that you would want any news from us Greencloaks."

"Well, I like keeping up with the world. Even if it is from my cell door."

"But wouldn't you think that we had somehow twisted the truth to make us seem like the good guys? Even if we're just the desperate people trying to keep the peace in this world?"

"Of course I do. But I always take the information then analyze it. Then I determine whether it's true or not."

"Of course."

The two of them sat in silence for another while. It wasn't an awkward silence, but not a comfortable one either. It's the kind of silence there is when one is standing in line, and waiting for their turn. You don't talk to the person in front or behind you.

It seems like forever until someone speaks again.

"Well, what is this news?" The prisoner is annoyed. I'd rather hear the news quickly and have him leave. I don't want company, he thinks.

"It's about Abeke."

"Is that so? Is she inviting me to her wedding? Did she have her first child and want me to be the godfather?" The sarcasm was thick and heavy.

"I wish it was." This shuts him up nicely. Conor's voice carries pain and sadness. "You and I both know that if she was getting married, you would be there, in the front row most likely. She'd demand it."

The two of them sit there a while longer.

"Well? Are you going to tell me?"

"I would, but I can't. It hurts too much."

His heart almost stopped at these words. The famous Conor, partner of Briggan, said it hurt too much. That wasn't good.

"Here." Conor handed him an envelope.

He tore open the envelope. It was a letter to him, from Abeke. It was dated from about a week ago.

Dear ,

I can't even write your name. It hurts too much. To write your name means to acknowledge the fact that I know you. The fact that you trusted me enough to tell me your name. And I trusted you back. Enough to bring you to Greenhaven, even though you were the enemy.

Sometimes, I wish we could change things. I wouldn't go with Zerif. I'd stay and be the rain dancer for my village. Then I could save myself the pain. But we can't. We can't go back in time and fix this. So we're stuck.

I really hate you sometimes. I really do. I hate how you were my first friend and the worst betrayal. But other times, I really liked you. Before I knew who you truly were, you were the one person who I thought cared for me. But that just made it hurt more when you betrayed me, betrayed my trust, and hurt me in more ways than you can possibly imagine.

When you showed us the tattoo of your spirit animal, it showed who you truly were. A killer. A murderer. A ruthless and cold-hearted soul. A liar. And being a liar was the worst of all. You lied to me from the moment you met me. You said I was being attacked when I first got on the ship. Liar. You just wanted to see if I could be useful. You said your spirit animal was Renneg. Liar. The fact that your spirit animal wasn't Renneg but the crocodile of the Great Devourer only proved it.

When Halawir came soaring in after the funeral, I thought he was going to stop you. I thought that we were all saved. I was wrong. You see, when you turn the ones I was supposed to be able to trust against me, you proved that there was more to you than we thought. And I didn't like it. I thought you were simply a boy, who was on the opposite side of the war. Confused and blinded. But who knew, that you were the reason that there was a war in the first place?

You're probably wondering why I'm even writing this letter. No doubt that you think that this is a waste of time. That there is no point in reading any further. You're most likely right. After all, who said you cared?

Being a celebrity isn't fun at all. The people follow you everywhere. Literally every moment of your life is stalked and captured in people's' minds. You have no privacy. You, on the other hand, are all by yourself. No one would care if you suddenly died one day. In fact, they'd probably be glad. 'Better off without him,' they'd say. Not for me. They'd cry for days on end. Helping end the war brings you that kind of fame.

Now to the point of this whole letter. At the end of this week, after the last interview and the last public appearance, I'm leaving. I'm leaving this world and going to the next. I'll see you there one day. And everyone else, too. I can't stand it anymore. I can't live with the knowledge of literally bringing the enemy into the home base and had handing most of the power in this war over to the enemy.

I've instructed Conor in his letter to forbid you from sending yourself there. I think living with the knowledge that you caused the deaths of so many people is enough punishment. I think living with the knowledge that you caused what I'm about to do to myself is the ultimate punishment. Because, while you told me many lies, had many consciences, and was a horrible person most of the time, I know you were ever comfortable with the fact that innocent people, who were just trying to protect their homes and family, were dead because of your actions.

So I guess this is goodbye. I'll see you in the next life. I'll be waiting.

Love,

Abeke

A single tear splashed down.

Conor waited patiently for the prisoner to stop reading, wondering how he would take the news. It had hurt him a lot when he read his letter. No one had taken the news well once it got out. Meilin had cried for days. Rollan shut out the world and sat and brooded in his room for hours after hearing the news. Uraza tried to hurl herself off the tower. Briggan had to literally tackle her to stop her. Jhi sat with Uraza for the longest time, as did Essix. And Conor? He missed her so much, it felt like his heart would burst and that his eyes were going to dry out from the salty tears. In short, everyone missed her.

The rustle of paper brings him out of his thoughts. Conor looks up. There are tears streaming down the prisoner's face. He's clutching the letter tightly, as if it's the only thing keeping him in this world.

"Did I hurt her that bad?" The prisoner asked, with his voice trembling.

"Yes. Yes you did," Conor replied.

"What was she like before she did what she did?"

"I think she was going crazy. Around a month ago, the nightmares became worse and worse. All the people she's seen die would come back at night and try to take her with them. The entire castle could hear her screams. Soon afterwards, she started hearing voices. It was unnerving to watch her converse with something that wasn't there."

"What voices?"

"Your's came pretty often. After that it was her father. Then it was Tarik. And so many others came afterwards."

"Then it was the hallucinations. She would see the dead everywhere, blood on walls that wasn't ever there, bodies that shouldn't be dead, the people she'd seen die dying in front of her over and over and over again. So instead of being haunted during only the night, it was happening during the day, too. The ghosts were with her, day and night."

"Was I the only reason she decided to do what she did?"

"She didn't kill herself because she was upset over the fact that you left her. She's strong enough to handle that. She did what she did because of the knowledge that you betrayed her, and by trusting you, she nearly ended the war. For the worse. So technically, yes."

"But why? Other than nearly ending the war, what else did I do to her?"

Conor laughed mockingly. "What don't you get? You lied to her. You betrayed her trust. You treated her like an object. You treated her as not a human, with feelings and a heart, but as a weapon to be used." His voice was harsh. "And…"

He hesitated. After a moment, he looked up and gazed sadly at the prisoner.

"You broke her, Shane. You broke her."

Sooooooooo. Do you like it? If so, drop a review. If not, do so anyways and tell me what you think!