It takes Mei some time to fall asleep but she finally does, her warm body relaxing into the furs next to me.

I turn to her, letting my eyes drift over her sleeping face. So pretty, my treasure, my cactus flower. But she cannot be mine. The pain of that thought is starting to be a familiar one.

Perhaps it was foolhardy to have her again, to touch her, to taste her. Torture myself with her. The more I have, the more I want. But I could not leave without feeling the warmth of her embrace once more. I needed that last farewell. That last embrace. And now my time with her is truly over.

I look my fill, memorizing her so I can pull out the picture later, when I'm alone. But I cannot lay next to her forever. My duty cannot wait. Mei is safe here now, with the Tribe.

Steeling myself, I slowly slip out of bed, careful not to wake her. It is best if I leave without her knowing. I know I will not be able to lie if she asks where I am going.

I push her hair off her beloved face, allowing myself only that small touch. She frowns, murmuring something in her sleep. But then she settles, drifting off once again.

Goodbye, my sweet treasure.

With one last look, I leave her cave and step out onto the ramp, the final separation wrenching. I clench my jaw. It must be done.

I need to find Ragnar.

As luck would have it, I have only to walk a short distance down the ramp to run into him.

"Hello brother," he greets me, his smile open, welcoming. Just as he welcomed me when we arrived, despite everything. "I thought to come out and take in the beauty of the stars."

At their mention, I look up at the inky black sky, the stars sparkling gems strewn across its expanse. "The night sky always made me feel small. Not significant," I murmur, memories of doing this very thing flooding me.

"And now," Ragnar prods. "Does it make you feel different?"

I shake my head, smiling ruefully. "No. It still makes me feel small. And perhaps that is the beauty of it."

"Hmm. Perhaps."

We stand in companionable silence for some time. I do not know how to the broach the subject I wish to speak of.

"You are with Mei?" Ragnar murmurs. "She is a fine female. I tried my best for you, but I believe she is the reason you have returned to yourself. I owe her a great debt."

"She is a fine female," I agree. But I leave it at that. The subject is too raw. Too painful. I turn my head to look at Ragnar. He meets my eyes, his attention now on me rather than the sky.

"What is it, Ryuth?" he asks. "What has you looking so worried?"

He has always been sharp-witted.

"I must tell you something," I admit. "And I know you will not like it."

He smiles. "I do not think there is anything you could tell me that would dull the joy of having you back in my life," he says.

"I wish that were true," I say, shaking my head.

"It is true," he insists. He puts a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it in an offer of comfort that only makes me feel even worse about what I must say. "Please. Tell me what has brought you out here, out of your warm bed and away from your female."

I lick my lips, looking out at the vast expanse of the desert laid out in front of us. There is no good way to broach this. I must simply say it.

"I was not fully truthful with you. Before the Devastation."

"In what way?"

The words stick in my throat but I force them out into the open. "I . . . instigated the uprising."

Ragnar's hand drops from my shoulder. "You . . . what?" he whispers, his voice cracking.

"I was trying to destroy the source of the epis," I continue. I must tell him everything. There is no point in drawing this revelation out now that the first slice has been made. "Or we were."

"You . . .” he shakes his head, horrified. I can see it in his eyes. "Epis is the source of life here on Tajss! It is why we live even now, so many years after the Devastation!"

"No, Ragnar. Don't you see that epis was the cause of all the evil here? All the greed, all the strife? It shouldn't have existed at all!"

"You sound like one of those fanatics, Ryuth," Ragnar says, his face hardening. "It was not so simple—is not so simple. The problem was never the epis. It was the people."

I scoff at that. "The problem was the epis," I say. "People are flawed and they always will be. Give them access to something so rare, so valuable, so addicting, and evil will be the result. It is inevitable. Our people were reduced to slaves, we had no purpose besides gathering epis for those who would abuse it."

"I cannot believe you think that is true," Ragnar says, disbelief and horror now warring with disappointment. And anger. Though the disappointment is more difficult to hear.

I keep going.

I must finish.

"My faction learned the truth about where the epis comes from," I continue. "How it is tied to the zemlja. How it is fertilized by them, created through the interaction of bacteria produced by them and a certain fungi. Kill the zemlja . . . kill the epis source. Free our people."

"Ryuth . . . no," Ragnar says, his voice edging more towards anger now rather than surprise.

I push on. "We learned of the hive nature of the zemlja. There is a queen and if she is destroyed, the rest would eventually follow." I pause, watching as he takes a step away from me. I absorb that hurt just like I've absorbed all the rest. "Resulting in the eradication of epis."

"You . . . you are the reason for the Devastation?" Ragnar asks, though I can see he already knows the answer. He just does not want to believe it.

My mouth is dry, my throat tight.

I knew Ragnar would not like what I had to say. How could he?

But the contempt, the judgment on his face is still difficult to bear.

"Our plans were betrayed by one of our own," I explain. "Fearing I might succeed in my mission, that I would eradicate the universe of epis, the off-worlders attacked as soon as they found out. The galactic force invaded Tajss in an ill-fated effort to destroy me and everyone who helped me by destroying the City."

"But the Zmaj fought back. We fought back," Ragnar says fiercely.

"Yes," I agree. We are a fierce race. Fighting back was inevitable. "And so the conflict went global."

Silence as Ragnar stares at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as his tail twitches in agitation behind him.

"You are the reason for the Devastation," he finally says, his voice ragged, his eyes accusing. "You destroyed our people! Our entire civilization!" He rakes his fingers through his hair as he looks away, his shoulders tense.

When he looks back at me, all of the pain, all of the suffering he has endured in the intervening years is clear.

And I am the cause of it.

I am empty. Cut adrift after looking into the rejection in Ragnar's eyes. My brother blames me for our troubles.

And he is right.

"Yes," I say simply. "It was my doing." I look away. "I will leave."

As I turn to continue down the ramp, I hope he will stop me. That he will tell me he still loves me, that I am still the brother of his blood. The brother of his hearts.

He does not.

I tell myself it is for the best. I must fulfill my purpose. But my chest aches as I disappear into the desert night.

Alone.

With only my duty.