What will you do?

Simon was dead. His blessing remained warm upon her brow. Her heart ached. The chains were heavier. The air thicker. The morning closer. A white robed man arrived. He knelt by Simon, and laid his hands upon his still head. He knelt by her side. He did nothing. She waited. “What have you done?” She did not answer. They met eyes. Neither quavered. “Have you made your peace?” She had. “Simon wished for you to live.” Simon gave her reason to. Simon allowed her to believe she should live. Simon had become her life. “He loved you.” “He was to be saved.” Her head dizzied with shock. “We can save one. Only one. Only one chance.” She did not understand. “We are Old Order. We chose him.” She knew why. “But he said no.” She knew why. She began to cry. “He chose you.” Simon’s promise was true. He gave all that was his. All for her. “What will you do?” What could she do? She could never go back to before. “What will you become?” She had to decide. This would be her only chance. Now. Only Now. She chose. As they ran out of the city, Kassandra considered the heavens, and the man who saved her through them.