what if? // sebastian sallow

In the Shadow of Dark Choices

My heart stops when I hear the dark words from the tendrils of magic swirling menacingly in the jar.

How could I possibly bring myself to cast the curse, which had been plaguing Anne for so long, onto someone else?

I consider asking Sebastian what to do. I know Sebastian would passionately voice the opinion that we should pay the price of casting the curse to cure Anne. He would help me decide who to cast it on, help me carry it out, and be happy to never breathe a word about it ever again. His loyalty and secrecy are unmatched. Anne would never even have to know.

But, in the process of deciding who to cast it on and the process of carrying it out, he may get too aggressive, too emotional. At the end of the day, it's a chance to give his sister a normal life, and it will be hard for him to act reasonably when the cure hangs so close within his reach. It would be hard for anyone.

As I peruse the options of potential confidantes in my mind, it naturally lands on the only person with whom I could truly ever discuss something of this nature, and my body floods with relief just at the thought of unburdening myself to him.

***

When I arrive at the Undercroft just under an hour later, Ominis is already waiting for me there. He's leaning against one of the desks in the room, arms crossed, his habitual look of concern painted plainly across his face.

"What on earth did you bring with you? I can sense the negative energy already," he says harshly, ever-perceptive.

"It's the dark magic I extracted from Anne," I say quietly, setting the jar down on one of the tables. "I need your advice."

"For Merlin's sake, keep that away from me. You know I've had more than enough of your and Sebastian's antics in fifth year. You both nearly got us all killed – multiple times. As much as I love seeing you two reconnect, hopefully it isn't at the expense of my life. I'm not ready to die yet," Ominis rants, only half-joking.

His constant complaints and utter disdain of my activities is the one of the few constants I have in my life right now, and even at the worst of times, it does manage to make me crack a smile.

"Relax, Ominis. I just want your input. I – I heard the magic say something earlier," I admit.

"Heard it? Are you out of your mind?"

"I'm being serious. It seems that I have to cast this dark curse upon someone else to fully cure Anne. I'm at a loss for what to do," I confide, the words falling from my lips, desperate for release.

Ominis takes a sharp intake of breath and is quiet for a moment. Any prior trace of lightheartedness between us is immediately sucked out of the air, leaving behind a cold, dark void of anxiety.

"Does Sebastian know about this?" he finally asks, his lips pursed into a thin, terse line.

"No."

"Good. Because absolutely not, we will not cast this. This is where we draw the line, Jasmine. A line that should've been drawn one thousand mistakes earlier. And you already know that Anne would wholeheartedly agree with me. Anne would never want someone else to suffer for her own recovery," Ominis says.

I hate to admit it, but he's right. I feel my eyes start to well up at the hopelessness of the situation, and Ominis seems to sense it because his voice immediately softens.

"You've already done so much for her, Jasmine. Anne says the numbness has been more tolerable for her than the pain. She is actually looking forward to a future – she talks about things she wants to do, places she wants to go. Dreams I've never heard her speak of before. You've done enough. I can promise you that." Ominis gives my hand a warm, reassuring squeeze, and it sparks something in my cold heart.

Something about Ominis's finality and confidence in his response gives me some peace that we must be making the right choice.

I ask Ominis to leave the Undercroft before me, and follow him fifteen minutes later, just in case Sebastian is still up in the common room. I don't want him to see me walking in with Ominis after having faked being sick earlier. At least if I'm alone, I can conjure up some excuse.

However, when I arrive at the common room, it's completely empty, the firelight flickering away in the hushed silence, and I breathe out a long sigh of exhaustion. I can't decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed about his absence.

As I lay in bed that night, I remember Sebastian's pained cry all those years ago, when he saw Anne disapparate from the caves, Solomon's lifeless body at her side. The way he wordlessly ran from me, the way he shut down and closed himself off. He didn't allow me or anyone else to comfort him, just wallowed in his own heavy pain and guilt. 

I think about the contrast of him now– soft, warm eyes that are alight with a desire for life. The way he twirled me around when he thought we'd cured Anne. The pure excitement, the unadulterated joy, the dimples that soften his face when he smiles.

I think of him losing that again – and I can't stand it.

A dark solution starts to form in my mind, and as I fall asleep that night, my dreams are cold and lifeless.