The Right to Die | ✓ Amby Winner 2023

30. Epilogue

Sviya sat curled up on a couch in the Prav'sudja living room, paging through a law book, while M'yu tinkered on his linkcard next to her. This thing could actually program, but his days of hacking into security systems were over. Hacking would have been rather redundant, actually, since he could manage the whole ship's security with the click of a button.

In the corner of the room, Aevryn and Ruslan sparred together. It was probably good for them to get all that restless energy out now, before the Prav'sudja was full of people. A smile ticked up the corner of his lips.

"Too slow, old man," Ruslan said as he scored a hit with his foil.

Aevryn hooked his foot around Ruslan's ankle, and the boy crashed to the floor. "Really?" Aevryn asked, standing over him. His brow quirked, but he offered Ruslan his hand and pulled the boy to his feet.

Ashya clapped. "Again!"

"I won't fall for that trick twice," Ruslan promised, setting up.

Aevryn tapped their blades together. "I'm counting on it."

Sviya looked over the top of her book at M'yu. "Do you have any more pardon requests?"

He checked his linkcard. In preparation for the resettlement of the city, M'yu had asked two things of Aevryn. First, to issue every citizen who wanted one, both Capitalfolk and Gloamers, their very own linkcard. It was a ridiculously expensive proposal, but they paid for it using the money Xten had been embezzling. M'yu would have paid for it out of his own skin once he saw the looks the Gloamers gave him as he presented the cards—for the first time, a light shone in their eye like maybe they belonged to something bigger than their one-road neighborhood. Like maybe someone cared.

The next thing M'yu had asked for was a second chance—not for him, who had already received too many do-overs from Aevryn to count, but for his people. Anyone who wanted to could plead their case before the Prince and beg for leniency, for a slate wiped clean. We'll be leaving this world behind soon, M'yu had told him. Our people should be able to leave their pasts behind too.

"No notifications yet," he said to Svi. "Although I imagine we'll get a slew of walk-ins before the day is out."

She hit him with a pillow. "Don't make it sound like you don't enjoy it."

A crooked smile lit his lips. He advocated for most of the petitioners himself, even though Sviya kept trying to convince him to let her help. But this wasn't about legal loopholes and obscure defenses. Most of these people were guilty, and they were here to admit that, not shirk it. This was about understanding their story, their pain, and their path to repentance. This was about rising out of the old regime and finding their place in the new, about compassion and forgiveness and all the things Aevryn had dropped in M'yu's lap like it was nothing. 

M'yu wanted to give these people the same chance, and Aevryn rarely refused what he asked for them.

The door cracked open, and Evriss poked his head through. "I'm sorry to disturb you all, but a petitioner is waiting in the parlor."

"Told you," M'yu said, winking at Sviya as he pushed up.

"If it's so-o much trouble..." she sing-songed. M'yu brushed her off with a wave and followed Evriss out of the room.

The old caretaker showed him to the parlor, then left him to meet with his client. The figure's back was turned. A coat of rags hung over their thin, trembling frame.

"You don't have to be afraid," M'yu said, pulling out a chair for the person. "Why don't we talk?"

The figure turned, and M'yu's breath caught. Karsya's once fiery-red hair was dulled with dirt and soot, the old long locks cut off to springs around her ears. Her face was thin with hunger, and her shoulders drooped, eyes not quite meeting his. Demurely, she murmured, "They said you were the one doing this."