- - Longissimus Dies Cito Conditur - -

Even the Longest Day Soon Ends

Few things are as sobering as failure.

Humans, as a species, are creatures of faith. It's in our nature to hope, to feel secure in the knowledge that, in the end, everything will be alright.

But the world is a crueler place than we imagine it to be. It holds no regard for our hopes, no place for our destiny or happy endings. Failure teaches us this lesson.

That is why it so often breaks us.

After Alito's execution, Lucius had withdrawn to his private chambers, refusing to see anyone. This was just as well, because the others were in no condition to comfort him. Each blamed himself in some way for what had happened.

Arjuna cursed his own powerlessness. He felt weak, useless, stupid.

Durbe was consumed by shame. Everything he'd known, everything he'd fought for, now repulsed him.

Even Nasch, beneath his immutable stoicism, felt secret twinges of regret towards his own stubbornness.

Only Merag was able to grieve properly, to accept her own role in the tragedy and move forward. She'd done the same when her parents had been lost at sea; back then, the hurt had been much more personal, and she'd needed to comfort her brother. Stepping outside herself was her own way of coping, and this time, there was someone else besides Nasch who needed her help.

It took her a bit of time to find him, but luckily, he hadn't wandered too far. She'd had a feeling that he'd try to find somewhere to be alone, and out of the places she'd checked, the roof of the Domus Flavia was both the most creative and the least accessible. She'd had to climb up a vine growing on the outside of the building, but it was worth it; as soon as she pulled herself up onto the roof, she spotted a tuft of orange hair sticking out from behind a beam. She smiled softly. "Admiring the sunset?"

A pair of red-rimmed violet eyes turned towards her with a look that spoke of something between annoyance and amazement. "...How did you even get up here?"

Merag crossed the roof to sit down next to him. "It wasn't too hard." She scoffed. "What, do you think I'm a weakling or something?"

Vector laughed dryly. "I should have known. You're some kind of warrior princess, aren't you?"

Merag folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not quite sure how to take that."

"Take it as a compliment." Vector's voice held that same playfully mischievous tone that she'd come to associate with him, but this time, there was a slight tremor in it. It made him seem brittle, as though he would shatter into a million pieces right there on the roof if she prodded him. He turned his gaze away from her. "I'm assuming you want something from me?"

Merag followed his eyes, gazing across the city skyline, towards the hills that rolled across the western horizon. "Nope."

Vector whipped around to face her, incredulous and slightly suspicious. "No?! Then why'd you come all the way up here?"

"To get some fresh air," she replied lightly, watching a hawk flying lazy circles in the sky. She was sure that others had already tried talking to Vector, and she was equally sure that their efforts had only succeeded in driving him further into himself. She understood the need to simply share the silence with someone. Nasch had been like that after their parents died. Vector and her brother were alike in that way; perhaps that was why they disliked each other so much.

Vector's questioning gaze lingered on her for a few more moments, then traveled slowly back to the setting sun as he let out a long sigh. "Well, if you don't mind air that's been breathed by me, you're welcome to stay."

Merag rolled her eyes. "Alright then." She crossed her legs and closed her eyes, letting the warm breeze flow across her face and through her hair. It felt good; she realized as her muscles relaxed that she'd needed this, too.

The two of them were silent for a long time, watching the sky slowly fade to twilight, basking in each other's presence. Eventually, the breeze began to carry a bit of a chill, and Merag scooted closer to Vector, leaning into his shoulder. She could see the slight flush that crept into his cheeks, but he didn't push her away. Without looking at her, he spoke, so quietly that she could barely hear him over the rustling of the trees. "...I'm such a damn fool."

Merag didn't reply; she simply rested her fingers atop his own. He twitched, but didn't pull away. "This is all my fault," he muttered, staring at the point where the sun had vanished behind the horizon. "And don't even try to tell me that it's not, because it is. If I hadn't been so stupid and selfish, none of this would have happened."

Merag looked at him, unimpressed. "Well, you certainly are selfish. This isn't all about you, you know." She frowned slightly. "Really, the one who's most at fault here is Wilhelm... or rather, the hooded man."

Vector tensed. "That's what I mean." He looked away. "You think Wilhelm's the only one who made a deal with the devil? ...I'm just as weak as he is."

Merag's eyes widened slightly. She'd known that Vector knew more about the hooded man than he was letting on, but she hadn't expected this. "Are you saying... that man made a deal with you, too?"

"...More or less." Vector seemed oddly aloof; Merag got the sense that he was trying to keep from breaking down in front of her. He pulled his right hand out from underneath hers and clutched the armor around his left arm. "He can't control me in the same way he does Wilhelm, at least. I asked, after… you know."

Merag tried to keep her voice level. "You talked with him?"

"...Yeah." Vector took a deep breath. "His name's Don Thousand. My deal with him was that he'll do anything I ask for the rest of my life in exchange for my soul." He clenched his fist. "I should have figured out that he was behind this! I was the only one who could have stopped him… but I was too late. I thought I knew all about his plans, thought I was winning, but the whole time he was just playing me like a damn lyre." His tone became bitter. "I always thought I was oh so clever, but when it came down to it, in that moment when everything was at stake, I couldn't do anything."

Merag suddenly understood. All the pieces had fallen into place, and now she realized that she was looking at a man struggling with the guilt and despair that came with fighting a losing battle against fate. How long had he suffered under that burden? Before she quite realized what she was doing, she had moved to kneel in front of him and taken both of his hands in hers.

Vector's eyes widened. "What…?"

"Listen," she told him, surprised at the emotion that had found its way into her own voice. "Back home, I'm not just a princess; I'm also the high priestess of the goddess Ragna. Because of my connection to her, I receive visions… prophecies. What happens in them can almost never be changed." She took a breath to collect her thoughts. "I know how difficult it is to know the future. To know that no matter how hard you fight against it, there's nothing you can do. That people are going to get hurt, sometimes even die, and you can't save them. It tears you up inside."

Vector's eyes widened slightly, and he was silent for a moment. Then he gave a bitter smile. "...And you hide it so well."

Merag returned the expression. "So do you."

The sky was beginning to darken now, but the wind had died down. The chirping of crickets filled the still evening air as Merag slowly sank into Vector's lap and laid her head against his chest. "We're the same," she whispered, feeling the warmth of his skin against her cheek. This was the first time she'd said it, but it felt like something she'd always known.

Durbe strode through the halls of the Domus Flavia with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt since Alito's execution. What had happened at the Colosseum had changed him; he knew that now. There was no way that he could go back to the world he'd known before, and for a while, that had shaken him.

He was a man of absolute faith, and he had placed it exclusively in Mach and Wilhelm. Now, knowing what he knew, having done what he'd done, that second pillar of his life had rotted and crumbled away into dust, leaving him off-balance, confused and whirling through a maelstrom of doubt and shame. What kind of knight was he, to have placed his own vows to an unworthy master above another man's life? Could he even call himself a knight? He was no noble, never had been. He was just a displaced peasant, a common and base boy who'd lost his only real home and become a sword for Saxony.

Time and time again, these thoughts led him back to the man who had planted them there in the first place. The man who had not only opened his eyes to his failings, but had also called him his friend. The man who'd risked his own life to fight him. To fight for him.

And time and time again, Durbe's mind traveled back to the first real conversation they'd shared. Gradually, he realized that he knew what his next step had to be. There was only one direction that he could go from here. So he strode through the palace with a grim determination, taking heart in the strength of his own decision.

Eventually, he came upon his objective, standing at the end of a long hallway. He steeled himself. "...Nasch."

The king turned to face him, his deep blue eyes as hard and impassive as always. "Durbe," he replied coolly, stepping towards him. "What is it?"

For a moment, Durbe wavered. But only for a moment. "I…" He knelt to the ground and bowed his head, eyes fixed on the golden toes of Nasch's boots. "I beg your forgiveness. What I have done is unacceptable. I… am not worthy to be called a knight."

Nasch huffed. "Quit groveling, it's pathetic. Stand up." As Durbe hesitantly got to his feet, the king folded his arms across his chest. "For decorum's sake, I'll accept your apology. But you should know that the only one you've hurt here is yourself." He eyed him with a somewhat softer gaze. "You've learned your lesson. Albeit the hard way, but I think, if anything, that only makes you a better knight."

Durbe could only nod, too overcome by emotion to say anything more than a soft "thank you."

Nasch nodded. "What are you going to do now?"

Durbe cast his gaze downwards. "...I can't go back to Saxony. I… don't think I'll ever be able to look that man in the eye again."

"Hm." Nasch's expression was unreadable. "Well, just so you know, my offer still stands."

Relief flooded through Durbe, and he smiled softly. Once again, Nasch had known exactly what he needed to hear. "I was hoping it would."

The sun had set, and the sky was dark as Darius sprinted through the Domus Flavia. He was not afraid of the dark, oh no; in fact, it gave him a certain sense of security. What frightened him now was not the darkness, but rather, the conspicuous absence of his employer. He knew that Prince Vector was upset, and was probably trying to avoid being found. But he also knew that it was his job to watch over the prince at all times, to make sure that he was safe. And in his line of work, failing to do one's job carried dire consequences.

So he had resolved to find Vector as soon as possible, but to do so without alerting the young prince to his presence. It was not something that he hadn't done before. After all, if there was one thing Darius was good at, it was going unnoticed.

Unfortunately, he did occasionally allow himself to become distracted by his thoughts when he was sure that no one was around, so he did not notice the other person running down the hallway until they'd collided with each other.

The other man let out a surprised yelp and what sounded like a Hindi curse, so it had to be Lord Arjuna. Darius immediately got to his feet and hung his head. "Forgive me, sir, I did not see you there."

Arjuna blinked. "Oh, ahm, don't worry about it." He seemed tense. "Hey, have you seen Vecta anywhere?"

Ah. So Arjuna was looking for him, too. Darius shook his head. "Unfortunately, I have not."

Arjuna frowned. "Where the heck did that guy run off to?! Doesn't he know I gotta talk to him?!" He seemed oddly desperate.

Darius didn't consider himself a "people person," but he did have a good bit of experience in reading emotions. Arjuna certainly needed to talk to someone, but he got the feeling that it didn't necessarily have to be Prince Vector.

Darius knew that he was bad at comforting people. But he also knew that his employer didn't want to be disturbed. And if left unchecked, Arjuna would most definitely disturb him. He could not allow that to happen.

Arjuna was eyeing him strangely. "Ay, is something wrong?"

Darius grabbed him by the shoulders, pushed him over to the other side of the hall, and sat him down on a bench before he could even realize what was going on. "Tell me about your feelings," he said flatly, grey eyes lit with a strange determination.

Arjuna only looked confused. "...Huh?!"

Darius frowned. This wasn't going to go well.

Vector awoke to the chirping of birds, a cool breeze, and a monstrous stiffness in his back. He blinked, realizing that he had fallen asleep on the roof, sitting up with his back against a hard wooden beam. It wasn't quite dawn - the eastern horizon glowed with small, bright splashes of pastel pinks and yellows, and the city below moved with the slow, scattered activity of a sleepy town just beginning to come back to life after a quiet night. Something stirred beside him, and he turned his head to find Merag, curled up and leaning into his shoulder, asleep. He smiled softly, filled with an inexplicable warmth. Being here, next to her, just felt right. In that moment, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

It was only for a moment, though, as he slowly started to realize that, benign as their intentions had been, he and Merag had spent the night together. Sure, nothing had happened, but others certainly wouldn't see it that way if they found out. Vector blanched as he realized that Nasch would most definitely dismember him, and, panicking, he scooted away from the beam and staggered to his feet.

This left Merag to slump to the floor, and she woke with a cry of pain. She looked around for a moment, then scowled up at him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "What was that for?!"

"S-Sorry." Vector fidgeted; his cheeks felt hot. "But we really need to figure something out here, or else everyone is going to think that we... you know..."

Merag's eyes widened. "...कचरा!" She scrambled to her feet and rapidly smoothed her dress. "What time is it?!"

Vector glanced towards the horizon. "It's almost dawn."

Merag blinked. "Oh." She then let out an exaggerated sigh. "Thank goodness. That'll give me plenty of time to sneak back into my room." She gave Vector a reassuring look. "Don't worry, I'm usually a pretty late sleeper. No one will even know I was gone."

Vector smiled wryly. "That's good, because I'd rather not find myself on the business end of your brother's sword."

Merag laughed. "Oh, please. Underneath that grumpy exterior, he's really just a big softy."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "Somehow I doubt that."

Merag shook her head, smiling. "Well, either way, we probably shouldn't test him." She started to move towards the edge of the roof. "I'll see you later, right?"

Vector shrugged, suddenly feeling somewhat sad. "Maybe. I had planned to leave for Parsis today."

"...I see." Merag's smile dimmed. She knew just as well as he did how much distance would soon separate them. She stepped towards him. "If I don't see you before you do..." She faltered. "I - ...well, it's been fun." She smiled softly. "I'm really glad to have met you."

There were a thousand things that Vector wanted to say to her, but the only one that came out was, "Same here." He suddenly found that he couldn't meet her gaze. "Thank you. For staying with me, I mean. Last night..." He fumbled for words. "...I was in a bad way. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."

Merag smiled softly. "No need to thank me. Being with you..." She paused. "...well, I feel much better now, too."

As she turned to go, Vector felt a sudden desperation. "Wait!" As she turned back to face him, his heart pounded. "...Tell me we'll see each other again," he murmured, both craving and dreading her answer.

Merag's expression was unreadable for a few torturous moments, but she slowly broke out into a bright grin. "Of course, silly," she teased, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm a priestess, remember? I just know." She had an almost faraway look in her eyes. "Our fates are tied together."

Her voice carried the weight of prophecy, and Vector felt a chill run through him, a strange thrill of excitement. And as Merag slipped over the edge of the roof and out of sight, he knew in his heart that she'd spoken the absolute truth.

Around five minutes later, Vector roamed the halls of the Domus Flavia, trying to figure out where Darius could have gone. He needed to get out of this city before he did something stupid; he was already kicking himself for letting his guard down in front of Merag.

As he walked, he began to hear a strange noise. It sounded almost like muffled sobbing, and it seemed to be coming from the hallway up ahead. Unsure what to expect, Vector walked to the end of the hall and turned the corner.

He was immediately greeted by one of the strangest sights he had ever seen: Darius, sitting on a bench with a flat expression, and Arjuna, blubbering into his shoulder.

"I jus' don' understand why life's gotta be so unfair!" Arjuna sobbed, arms wrapped around Darius' torso like a vise. "I mean, I didn't get any of those really good rolls, and Nasch had two already, but he ate the last one right in front of meeeeee! Whyyyyyy?!" He then broke down into a loud wail.

Darius didn't even blink. "Life isn't fair, sir. But it isn't unfair, either. The universe is completely indifferent to our struggles, and our lives are cruel, insignificant, and devoid of meaning. Our existence carries no purpose. ...But I will ask the cook for the recipe for the rolls and bake some for you, if it be Your Lordship's wish." The dark circles under his eyes said that he'd been doing this all night.

Arjuna sniffed loudly. "Oh Darius... you're a saint!"

Vector wanted to keep watching them, but he couldn't help it; he burst out into roaring laughter.

Darius' eyes widened. "Sire!"

"Vecta?!" Arjuna bounded off the bench, all trace of tears vanished, and placed his hands on his hips, pouting. "Aya, it's not nice to barge in on a guy when he's letting out his feelings!"

Vector snickered. "Letting out your feelings? To Darius?!" He couldn't seem to stop laughing. "I'm sorry... this is just priceless!" he crowed, doubled over with his hands on his stomach.

Darius looked a little awkward. "Sire, I apologize - I could not find you last night, and Lord Arjuna needed someone to talk to..."

This only sent Vector into another round of giggles. Arjuna looked miffed. "Laugh all you want, but this man is a great listener!" His voice took on a slightly more serious tone. "I feel a lot better now that I got it all out."

Vector's laughter faded; he'd been so caught up in his own pain, he hadn't stopped to think about how Arjuna might be feeling. He and Alito had become good friends almost immediately. Of course he'd been hurting... and Vector hadn't been there for him. He felt a sudden stab of guilt, and he looked away. "I'm sorry..."

Arjuna smiled knowingly. It was plain that he'd already forgiven him. "That's alright. It was a hard night for everybody." He pouted. "Now are we getting out of here or what?! I don't know about you, but I'm getting kinda antsy."

Vector rolled his eyes, smiling. "Alright, alright. We'll leave as soon as everything's ready."

The next few hours were a whirl of packing and preparations. Lucius still wasn't seeing anyone, so Vector had informed one of his servants of their departure. Somewhere along the line, they'd bidden polite goodbyes to Nasch and Durbe, along with idle promises to meet again. Vector knew that he would miss Durbe's company, but he felt a strange sort of obligation not to look too sad in front of Nasch, who seemed more than happy to see him off.

He tried to maintain a casual distance as he said goodbye to Merag, but he couldn't keep the hopeful gleam out of his eyes, and neither could she. If Nasch noticed their knowing looks he didn't say anything; he simply stood there and bristled, the scowl on his face deepening ever so slightly.

Once all their supplies were packed up and ready to go, Vector, Arjuna, and Darius exited the palace and started to make their way through the city, traveling back much the same way they had come. Vector watched the crowds that surrounded them with an idle gaze; a lot had happened in Rome, and though their visit had been plagued by tragedy, there had been quite a few good things to come out of it, too. Now the excitement was at an end... but, if he was honest with himself, Vector was glad to be finally going home.

He wouldn't find out until much later that Lucius had hung himself in his chambers two hours after they left.

Back in Parsis, a woman with light, upswept hair and a lithe frame floated through the halls of the royal palace, humming quietly to herself as she went. She eventually reached a set of doors and pulled them open, revealing a company of soldiers, some Ahriman, and some clad in Parthian armor. A small boy stood in their midst, arms folded across his chest and a scowl on his face. He was dressed in traveling clothes that he was clearly itching to get out of.

The woman tipped her head. "I'm sorry that my son isn't here to receive you, Mizael." A certain wistfulness showed in her eyes. "He's such a naughty boy."

Mizael looked like he wanted to laugh, but settled for smirking instead. "Is that so?" He frowned. "Someone should scold him for making me wait like this." His voice took on a haughty tone. "I have far more important things to do, as king. He ought to show me the respect I deserve."

The woman smiled warmly. "Oh, aren't you just the cutest thing? Such a tiny king-" She reached out to pinch his cheek, but Mizael slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me!" he snapped, cheeks tinged red with embarrassment. "And I'm not short! I just haven't had my growth spurt yet!"

The woman chuckled. "Of course… forgive me." The faraway look returned to her eyes. "Why, you look just about the same age as my Vector…"

Mizael wasn't quite sure how to react to that, and his face scrunched up. "...No, he's way older than I am. You can tell just by looking at him."

The woman gave a slight start, then hugged her arms to her chest, looking down with sad eyes. "Oh… yes, of course." She tried to give a little laugh. "It's just that I… haven't seen him since he was very small."

Mizael, being a child, and a bit of a cruel one, at that, simply didn't care. "Well, we'd better see him soon, or he'll be sorry," he muttered, folding his arms.

The woman smiled softly, glancing briefly towards the window and the bright blue sky beyond. "Yes," she murmured. "He will be home soon."

Author's Note: And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the return of Mizael's bird hair! This chapter kind of evolved into a tying-up of the Rome arc… though some plot stuff happened, there wasn't nearly as much of it as I had originally hoped. Oh well.

Is it sad that I still haven't figured out a name for Vector's mom? I mean, I really better get on that.

(Can you feel the canon coming? It's almost here! It's so close! Finally, this fic won't be just me doing whatever the crap I want anymore!)