The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

23. The Right to Die

M'yu was in the dark of his mother's house with the Vulture pinned beneath him. His mother screamed as M'yu's blade flashed in the night, and M'yu—

Froze. He could kill this man. He had killed him before. But M'yu's side hurt, and Aevryn would hate him, and Karsya would set his mother's house on fire. The Vulture leered up at him. "How are you ever going to compete in Washfall if you can't even manage to face your opponent?"

M'yu howled and brought the knife down—

Into Lania. Her baby blue eyes stared up at him in shock, in betrayal. Her lips fell into an eternal gasp, and he held her close, her coat crinkling against his chest, her warm blood dripping into his lap. "I'm sorry," he crooned, "I'm so sorry..."

"Compromise," Sviya whispered from behind him. "It will ruin you every time."

He cried over Lania's body. She wasn't supposed to die. No one else was supposed to die. One man's blood on his hands had been enough, had been far too much.

"How do you plead, hero boy?" Sviya whispered, as his mother whimpered in the corner and his siblings looked on with horror and Aevryn stood in the door, shaking his head.

"Aevryn, please," M'yu moaned, rocking Lania. "Please help us."

"How do you plead?" Sviya demanded.

The blade was in M'yu's hand. Blood dripped from its tip and covered the floor until everything M'yu had ever touched was coated with it.

"How do you plead?"

"Guilty!" The word tore out of his throat with a whimper, with a shout, with a lifetime of hate and fear and blame. He hung his head, and the world disappeared until he was left with nothing but the cold to keep him company. "I plead guilty."

The world broke into freezing silver floors and hot pain. His shirt and bandages were wet in spots and stiff in others. His cheek was flush and sticky against the metal; his skin was clammy. His bones shook hollowly, like the emptiness of a week without food. His fingers scrabbled against the floor for purchase to push himself up with, but his arm gave out. He collapsed against the floor again, crying out. Aevryn. I have to tell Aevryn...

But what he had to tell him flitted out of reach. That Karsya would sell all of M'yu's secrets—so what? M'yu would never make it to trial, and if he did, everything they found would be the truth.

I have to tell him...

That he was sorry? That he'd screwed everything up? That Aevryn was right, had always been right? He knew that.

Still M'yu tried to push up again. Aevryn wouldn't want him back, but M'yu owed it to him to tell him. What, he could remember later. His arm shook under his weight, and his ribs cried in protest, white hot sparks bursting across his skin. He bit back a cry, tears springing to his eyes, and tried to get his other arm beneath him.

His elbow gave way, and he crashed back to pain and oblivion.

* * *

"I don't care if you're charging him with murdering the known world, he still has rights!"

M'yu's head buzzed. His eyelids slowly came apart as Aevryn rattled off legal jargon. His side still roared with pain, but his bones had filled out some, so biting back a moan of pain, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He sagged against the wall, hand to his side, drawing in greedy, shallow breaths.

The door opened. Aevryn's fur-coated silhouette filled the entry. His eyes swept over M'yu, lips turning down. M'yu hung his head. "Aevryn, I—"

"Don't speak," he clipped, and M'yu cringed. Aevryn stepped to the side, revealing a white-coated man behind him. "Doctor, how do you find him?"