Part 4: iosis
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"Eternity is a child moving counters in a game, the kingly power is a child's." —Heraclitus
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—Took the vial in his hand, before Ciel could take the last. And just as quickly, downed the tenth and final drop upon his own tongue. It took no planning on Sebastian's part; and even as he swallowed the bitter drop he felt no regret. In the inbetweenselves, the nothing of him coiled around the poison like a round pearl.
"I said I would have my satisfaction," Sebastian said. "And I will have it," he continued. He dropped the vial to the floor, and with a soft clink it rolled to a stop against the king and the knight, still waiting at the start of the old game. And there it winked, like fire. "Master, my satisfaction is your continued existence."
"Why?" Ciel asked, softly.
"Because," Sebastian said, suddenly certain. "What do those past selves of mine have, that I might be jealous of? Gold and jewels and all the arts of man pass forth age after age, each alike. Masters rise to greatness, become tyrants, live bright and cruelly passionate, and then fall to become nothing but dust, half-remembered and unmourned. The heavens above have no need of me, nor do I want them. And the accolades and pride of a ravenous beast are nothing to it except pretty baubles to assuage its own emptiness. Those creatures are nothing, and I am Sebastian, my dear, as I have always been. I am yours—this form and function and this art; this care. Everything that I might ever become under your hand is more precious to me than all the vastness of possibilities that I might otherwise have taken, trampled on, and discarded. I have no regrets; not now. Not now that I've tried; not now that I can say I've held your own death and my freedom here, before me in my palm. It's a pretty game to while away a morning, but I would not grieve over it."
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