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"Diamond! Diamond! Diamond, you have to get up from the throne-"
The voice is familiar, it's a voice that brings to mind the sensation of trust, but it sounds to you as if it's coming above water, under which you are submerged. It's difficult to think in the face of so much, in the face of divinity calling you.
But you are saddened. The voice sounds heartbroken. Anguished. That upsets you.
"No chance, Opal- you have to pull him from there yourself! You're the closest, only you can do it!"
Another familiar voice. This one has always sounded so faraway, even when you could think and see the speaker in the eye, his voice once full of boyish mockery now angered and strained.
"Diamond!"
That voice you trusted once again. You're sure you can put a name to it. But you're not supposed to, right?
Yet, you feel so alone.
You wish you didn't. But you know wishing for that is futile now. You started on this path. Now you have to finish it.
You wish you could tell him- Opal, his name is Opal, that there was no more walking back.
Oh, Opal.
I'm sorry.
Your name wasn't always Diamond.
Once upon a time- you had another name, you were a person, you were a boy, who fell in love with another boy's stories of a train shooting across the night sky like a shooting star, before you decided- you had to ensure that both of your dreams did not fall to oblivion. You met that other boy at the IPC Space Academy.
His name was Oswaldo Schneider, and it was a name that sealed your fate.
It was difficult for you to get in, your family was impoverished, but they smiled when you got your hard-won acceptance letter, a letter you won by taking a risk, a mad gamble, Oswaldo would call later fondly as his lips met yours.
(He used to kiss like you were the only thing that ever gave him life. He used to hold you close, with that cheeky smile on his face.
You can't pinpoint exactly when that handsome smile became hollow and humorless, laced with cruelty.)
Oswaldo's family however has a reputation, the Schneider family name holding weight. He smiles at you, wide and bright, eyes crinkling.
"I think we'll be great friends! Come on, follow me!"
You've never stopped since. You've always followed him ever since. Until a fateful day in the future.
He told you about the stars. He was always fascinated with them- nothing was in his head save for Astronomy, and though Oswaldo was peerlessly brilliant, he was driven to strive for perfection in Astronomy class. It always made you smile.
"What constellation is that?" You ask him, curious. You always did like listening to him talk about the stars. It's when his eyes shone the brightest, brighter than the stars themselves. You couldn't help but be captivated by the passion he bore for the stars.
"Andromeda, my friend," Oswaldo says cheerfully. He flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. "She was chained to a rock, in the legends of the Laurel Wreath Galaxy, cursed by her parents who vainly thought doing so would save their kingdom from a vicious sea monster."
"That seems foolish, they should have implemented verified measures of safety rather than pursue such an uneducated path," you say with a frown and Oswaldo laughs heartily.
"Well, if they did, my friend, we wouldn't be having this story!" Oswaldo says, wiping a tear from his eye. He then smiles, fond. You like that particular smile.
From when you were a child, you've always wanted to hold the few things you've cherished close, protect them. You'd give up anything to ensure they remained safe.
"Anyways," Oswaldo continues. "She was saved by a legendary hero, Perseus. They would eventually go on to marry, their legacy etched in stone, influencing the cosmos forever, to this day."
You smile.
"Legacy," you murmur. "You've always been intrigued by the heroes who've left behind something to remember."
Oswaldo's face flushes, easy and bright against the night sky. "I- well," He says, embarrassed at being caught so easily. "I really can't hide anything from you, can I?"
(He couldn't. You knew him so well.)
He continues, rubbing the back of his neck, self-conscious in a way he rarely is, given his typically hot-blooded nature. "Well, it's my dream. To be one of those heroes, like the Nameless of Akivili's cohort! I'd love to leave my legacy behind in the stars," He then looks at you anxiously, trying to gauge your reaction. "You don't think that's silly?"
"No," you murmur, sincerely. "I think if anyone can do it, Oswaldo, it's you."
Oswaldo's smile is brighter than the night sky. You think Oswaldo is growing to be one of those things- those things that you'd cherish, keep close and protect.
Oswaldo teaches you about everything you were unaware of, given you come only from a no-name village in a planet frozen over by ice. He is happy to do so. He tells you about the Paths, about the cosmos, he tells you about everything there is.
But the happiest is when he talks about the Astral Express, about the Nameless, the Trailblaze. Personally, you believe more in the Preservation- to hold close what is yours and protect and preserve it so it may never disappear, is a belief that soothes you, a belief that feels right. Oswaldo's laughed gently at you- saying that sounded right, but that he personally found the Preservation boring.
"It just sounds as if everything is locked in stasis, never to be let out free, only to be preserved for eternity," Oswaldo says, and you purse your lips at the thought.
"That's not true, though," You say, envisioning Oswaldo running out on a train rail made of stars towards an unreachable end, only to disappear. You envision your family withering away, lost to time, but when you envision frost- they all remain still and your hand in your imagination reaches out for them.
They're still there. No longer lost to time or to the stars.
You breathe out, and Oswaldo puts a hand on your shoulder, gentle, concerned.
"Did I upset you?" He asks, softly- and you blink at him, surprised. You hadn't realized how upset you were, until then. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"I just want...it all to be safe," You admit in a small voice. No eloquent words. Just the truth, bare and simple, confessed in a shared dorm room, the stars your sole witness. "I don't want to lose any of it."
"You won't have to." Oswaldo promises, squeezing your shoulder with an easy smile. "You really believe in the Preservation for that?"
You nod. "I'd give anything to keep it all safe," You admit, swallowing. "Even myself-"
"Then what would be the point?" Oswaldo asks in a slightly raised voice, and you look at him in surprise. "If you give yourself up to protect everything, what would be the point?"
You struggle to find words. Oswaldo seems to as well, and he sighs. He tries smiling at you, squeezing your shoulder again.
"Let's just go to bed," he says quietly and you agree, heart trembling- not with the upset of an argument with your best friend, but with a conviction that stays there forever.
"My favourite Navigator is Isee," Oswaldo explains to you, when you both have yet again skipped class to stargaze- that is the perks of the Academy being stationed in a perpetually moving spaceship. One could stargaze whenever they wanted. He gestures excitedly as he speaks, passionate as always, and you smile, resting your chin on your hand- elbow on the window railing. He's slightly shorter than you, and you do not make fun of him for it, even though you would very much like to- so watching and looking at him up like this is a new perspective you enjoy.
"He's the one that held the Nameless together after even Akivili passed! Bold, daring and charismatic- he used games of chance, cleverly planned and strategized, to ensure who would be worthy to walk the Trailblaze, for the traitors and opportunists seeking to profit from Akivili's death had to be punished!" He gushes, voice hushed. "I can't imagine. Isee is truly a Nameless that I'd aspire to be like."
You think about it some more. Certainly, Isee did the prudent thing, by preserving the Trailblaze and preventing it from sinking into a fallen Path, like the Order for instance.
But something about it troubles you.
"I prefer Falcon Amundsen." You say, quietly. Oswaldo looks at you, a curious smile on his face.
"Do you, now? Why's that?" Oswaldo asks, grinning.
"He continued the Trailblaze, allowed it to expand, and protected it with his dying breath." You explain, feeling as if you truly didn't have the words to explain. "Isee is...bold. Everything a leader should be. I admire him as well, but I believe it takes greater strength to preserve something treasured, especially when you are fragile in comparison."
Oswaldo keeps smiling at you. You grow self-conscious.
"What?" You demand, face flushing.
"You really are a romantic, aren't you?" Oswaldo says, with a laugh.
That isn't how you'd describe yourself. You're the more practical one, between yourself and Oswaldo, who has designs of grandeur, after all. You fail to see how admiring one Navigator makes you a romantic.
You say as much to Oswaldo, and he laughs heartily, before looking at you with so much fondness you feel as if you cannot look it in the eye. You meet his gaze anyway, swallowing, because there is no real reason for you not to.
"Ah, of course not. Silly me," Oswaldo says, but he's still grinning. You frown- and Oswaldo's smile just widens further.
"You're being patronizing." You deduce, displeased.
"I'm not!" Oswaldo says, raising his hands in surrender. His smile softens, and for some reason your heart skips a beat. "I just think it's admirable. Most would admire the heroes, the big names. You remember the ones who are heroes in their own way, and I think that's beautiful."
"I try," You say, not knowing what else to say. Your heart skips another beat as he then holds a lock of your hair.
"I know you do. That's what I find admirable." He murmurs, his typically loud voice soft for once.
"You...do?"
You don't think there's much about you to admire. You're a boy from a frozen, poor planet far out of his depth, who got a prestigious scholarship simply because you took one monumental risk. You pore over dictionaries in the nights, forcing yourself to elevate your diction, so no one else will mock you for sounding provincial. You pore over the syllabus so you will not be behind your peers. This scholarship means the world to you, and you will protect it. You're just doing what anyone else in your position might.
"Don't believe me?" Oswaldo asks quietly, and then, in a moment he kisses you, gently, slowly and quietly- the stars watching over the both of you, as you lean into the kiss and let him take what he desires, because you're willing to give it all for him.
The two of you pull back, looking into each other's eyes, myriad words being spoken without a sound- and you think this moment is something you will hold close to your heart forever.
(You aren't aware of how much that damns you, when you fall into his bed, underneath him, watching his eyes darken with desire at the sight of you- letting him have his way with you, giving him the last of your naivete.
He will take away the rest of it too, close to graduation.)
The day it happens, is so unobtrusive, but in truth you've always seen the signs.
The way Oswaldo grows pensive, irritable, even angered at the thought of Akivili's fall, the way the two of you have begun arguing over the meaning of the Trailblaze. Oswaldo's grown restless of late, that hot blood of his boiling even further for whatever reason.
He claims that Akivili was weak. Too weak to hold on to power, to find the rest of the cosmos. He claims that Akivili should have conquered the worlds THEY travel to. You stare at him in shock when he says that- because whatever Oswaldo's faults, expansion, colonisation has never been one of his priorities.
He shoots back saying that Akivili was too weak to leave behind a legacy of THEIR own- too weak to seize what was rightfully theirs. You pause, helpless and weak in your rebuttals, and you curse yourself for your ineloquent answers because as the days go by, Oswaldo is more stringent and adamant on this belief. It's not like him.
You're worried.
Oh, he takes care to kiss you sweetly and hold you gently in private of course. You are swayed by the sincerity in his eyes when he apologizes to you, and you think every time he does so, it will be alright.
It is not.
Today, IPC Board Members have arrived to personally inspect the Academy, and they speak to all the top students. You've spoken with Madam Scar-Eye and Director Arita. You agree with both of them, but with Director Arita far more, who's kindly to you in a paternal way that twists at your heart and makes you long for home.
(But home is a thing that's long gone now, and your only home for so long now, was Oswaldo.)
Arita praised you, and you thank him with a polite smile, bowing deeply in respect. You turn to look for Oswaldo, but he's gone.
That's the first inkling of dread that blooms within you. Oswaldo is never too far from your side and perhaps it is a childish anxiety, but you excuse yourself, looking for him.
You call out for him- text him, call him, but he does not reach back to you.
That's the second inkling of dread.
Then you are at the corridors that lead to the senior lecture halls, which are abandoned given the pomp and festivity happening at the main hall. You frown when you hear voices, and you instinctively hide behind a wall, frowning when you hear Taravan Keene's stern, slow voice.
"You're a chameleon, Oswaldo. You know what I mean? The IPC could use a few chameleons."
Your eyes widen, and your breath stops for a moment.
It makes awful sense at that moment. All too awful sense. Oswaldo's changing beliefs- the IPC had stumbled upon him. And they sought to use him as a tool for their own means- and Oswaldo, for all his hot-blooded passion, was still so painfully young. Of course he listened to them.
No, no, no, no- you think, as your body grows cold. You know the IPC is notorious for bearing feuds, and while acquiesces to the Amber Lord by way of mouth, you question what it is they really do. Oswaldo has made fun of the IPC plenty of times to you, calling them empty headed zealots and proudly declaring that he'd never be a suit-wearing capitalist, that his sight has always been set for the stars.
Surely, Oswaldo would never accept, for certain-
"I know what you mean," Oswaldo's voice says, quieter than you've heard it in the time you've known him. Contemplative.
Dangerous.
You don't recognize that voice, in that moment.
"I'm honoured, sir. I'll take up your offer."
Even now when you remember that moment, what stands out to you in your recollection is how you forgot to breathe.
One of your biggest regrets is how you never brought it up even when he boasted of obtaining a seat at the IPC to you, of how he will be a member of the elite upon graduation. You made your plans for certain, that the IPC and the Preservation are flawed, they must be preserved- until that day, they've never preoccupied you as much.
But you can't bear the thought of a day where Oswaldo could potentially take away everything you've grown to cherish.
Including himself.
When you join the IPC, you rise up the ranks very quickly. You find yourself in the decrepit Strategic Investment Department, which is nothing next to historically meteoric departments such as the Technology Department. But you resolve to change things for the better.
You resolve to leave your own legacy. You make plans. Better yet- you forge yourself at the IPC. The more you are at the IPC, the more you disagree with its vision of Preservation, with their plans, with the truth that is slowly unfolding in front of you. This is no longer merely about Oswaldo threatening to upend everything you've grown to cherish. This is about the IPC using him to do so.
You do not think your old name suits you, anymore. No. You've been forged, and Qlipoth THEMSELVES have been taking notice of you. You feel THEIR gaze. You know you are no longer the impoverished, out-of-place student that found himself awkward at the Academy.
So- you shed your name. It is no longer of any meaning to you. Your name, flesh, and blood may be inconsequential in their fragility, but not your heart, not your resolve. Mortal flesh was weak and fragile, but your heart was resolute like the monolith- for without that resolve, you could lose the way of the Preservation to the slumbering oblivion.
Only the Preservation could protect and preserve what it was you sought to protect- but it was flawed. And you must be unwavering, resolute, firm, to ensure it is no longer lost.
So your name is now Diamond.
You meet Oswaldo for the first time in the IPC when the two of you are P40, only beginning to be allowed into the inner circles of the IPC. He is in the Marketing Development Department, which is frequently and constantly backed up by Taravan Keene, just as you suspected.
Oswaldo widens his eyes in surprise- clearly not having expected you to be there. You keep your face impassive, but you shake his hand regardless.
"Pleasure to meet you," You say, coolly.
Oswaldo sputters, clearly about to say something- but you continue.
"I'm Diamond." You say, finally.
That's the first break. You are no longer who you were to him- and his eyes darken in displeasure, but you bear his gaze steadfastly anyway.
The two of you bear an uneasy truce over the years as you work on the Strategic Investment Department, rising up the ranks even further- the rift between the two of you grows when you are given Qlipoth's own blessing, and become an Emanator of Preservation.
Why Qlipoth has chosen to hear you, is a mystery to you at first- but your wish has been heard in the most unexpected way possible. You resolve to shed everything, to strive to be worthy of the Amber Lord's own power, to be THEIR apostle.
Oswaldo plays at being a zealot of Preservation, but you and he both know full well his allegiances have always been towards the stars and the poisoned whispers they begin bearing over the years.
You watch- fully aware that Oswaldo is listening to discordant notes that promise him the power of the stars, golden in their destruction. You watch him being seduced by the mother of the web of destruction that follows the poisoned honey of whispering stars. You bear some hope, that Oswaldo will remember what he truly desired for in his youth- but you hear, over the years, what the Marketing Development Department has done.
None of it adheres to the Preservation. None of it adheres to the Trailblaze, only a perverted, twisted version of it.
You know Oswaldo is lost to the allure of a roaring star's promise of a feast of power- you watch him being tempted into it, further and further. Yet you still maintain an uncertain cordiality, even as you create the Ten Stonehearts.
You know soon- you and Oswaldo will stand at the opposing ends of a divine war. You hope it will not be the case, but you are not one to cling to futile hopes.
You cannot afford to be so. There's no price worth paying for such nebulous hope, hope you contain to bear anyway.
The Ten Stonehearts have a high attrition rate- but it is worth it, for you begin to see the ones that glimmer the most with promise under your attempts to forge them into allies that will stand by your side in the divine war.
There's Opal, steadfast, loyal, disarming and dangerous. Trustworthy and capable, willing to accede to you even if he disagrees with you. You trust him quickest, and he trusts you in return, for the chance you've granted him. He is dependable, thoughtful and clever, and it is easy to find a steadfast companion in him as the two of you confide your secrets in each other and grow to discuss the future of the Stonehearts, and your eventual plans. You understand Opal is troubled by your end goal, but you have no doubt he will understand and he assures you he will do so.
Obsidian, who wishes to see people bleed for their ambitions, who would herself sooner bleed for her own- something you warily recognize in yourself. She agrees with you on most things- yet yearns for fun and the opportunity to be unrestrained, which is visibly dangerous. You can forgive her ruthlessness, because mercy cannot be always afforded as a selling price and Obsidian must remind your foes of this fact, devaluing and depreciating the threat they possess.
These two are the most like you, even if they are given to more bloodthirst and violence than you are willing to.
There is Jade- who fulfils wishes and listens to people's hearts with much more care and expertise than yourself for all that you attempt at it. She is intelligent, sensible and prudent- there is many a time you agree with her, but her ambition is burning, lurking under like the magma of a volcanic crust, threatening to erupt and envelop his own. It is good, she is so ambitious, but you must yet keep her at arm's distance, lest her speaking in your stead becomes quite literal.
She and Obsidian do not get along, two sides of the same coin that they are, and though their rift strengthens their ambitions, you suspect the rest will have to make their choices. You entrust Opal to moderate the team. He agrees to do so, faithfully.
Amber is the guardian you entrust with the Amber Lord's own will- she protects the Stonehearts' neutrality at the cost of her own wishes and desires. It is unfair, but it is the price she has paid at the end of the day. She preserves the team, quite literally- and she is dutiful to you, but because of her discarded wishes and dreams, she seems so very far away from you.
Sapphire, haunted by broken oaths and a failed death, is loyal to you to the point of error. You should not take advantage of his frail hope, strong as he is in mind and body, but he serves well as your enforcer of compliance. A part of you wishes he would see he is more than just an oathkeeper.
Pearl, single-minded and focused, an Intellitron yearning to understand her purpose assigned by the Celestial Differentiator, yearning to understand humanity and art- becomes your secretary, your appraiser. She does not see to the future, but she is efficient and true. You have no doubt she will fight to the death for her chance to fully embrace her ambition one day, and emerge the victor.
Sugilite- ever-mocking, is a young man who feels deeply with a heart that burns far too deeply that even the Preservation may not temper it- yet he pretends so well that he is above it all, even given to hollowing his own self out, angered as he is by the continuous greed of humanity. He's given up his own humanity, but you have no doubt Sugilite will rise to the occasion. You give him the responsibility of watching the Stonehearts' coffers and he does so with a scoff, and a wary eye towards yourself. The boy has audacity enough to defy you, however slightly. You'll give him that. It is good to be defied, after all. You must be reminded you are not absolute.
Agate teeters on the boundary between life and death- but Obsidian takes care of them. They are steadfast to your goals at the cost of their own self, just as Obsidian herself is, for all her appearances of bloodthirst.
Aventurine. A victim of Oswaldo's own burgeoning ambitions, yet one whose drive closely resembles your own willingness to take a chance. You are aware, heavily so, that you have failed him before he even becomes a proper member of the Stonehearts, by failing to deal with Oswaldo. You loathe yourself for it. It is futile and you must not waver, but you loathe yourself anyway, at how you have failed Aventurine. And you know you will continue to fail him at least at one other point- so you give him a seat at the table. You watch him rise to the occasion splendidly, repeatedly, over and over again, gambling his own life while strategically spinning a web of schemes. You know he will go far, despite your failures.
You trust him to do so.
Topaz. Young, kind and true to herself. She's not meant to be a Stoneheart, at first glance. But she is willing to pay herself as the price for her own goals over and over, and you are amazed at her potential. She has her own ambitions, apart from furthering your own, but so do the other Stonehearts- and kindness is not a weakness, even if it is viewed that way in the IPC, for kindness furthers the flame of Preservation. You grant her a seat at the table as well.
You watch them intertwine with the Trailblaze- the discovery of Archforger, the terrible reason behind why despite the clear availability of a Board seat, there was none being given until his discovery is the final nail in the coffin of your and Oswaldo's friendship.
"We reserved a Board seat for Louis Fleming, for all his achievements," Madam Scar-Eye says ponderously, as the implications cause your spine to stiffen with tension. "But for him to willingly embrace Destruction and turn into a Lord Ravager..."
You exhale heavily, swallowing a growing lump in your throat. You chance a glance at Oswaldo, who is tapping his fingers on the glass table, ready to wear the mask of the head of the Marketing Development Department, as if he himself isn't willingly consorting with the Destruction.
"Then it is clear what must be done, no, ladies and gentlemen?" Oswaldo says with a wry smirk. "The board seat must be relinquished to the one willing to do what it takes to remove the one so readily tarnishing the chairman's name. For does it not mean then, that we are willing, devoted to Qlipoth, to clear THEIR name from such scourges?"
You clench your jaw, as Oswaldo meets your gaze across the table- his smirk widening.
"Making this into a game about a seat on the Board when Archforger is polluting the Path of Preservation is childish, Director Schneider," you force yourself to say.
"Oh, please. As if you haven't been looking to the Board's approval yourself, old friend."
You hate that Oswaldo calls you that so casually, with no concern. You hate that this is what Oswaldo chooses to preserve, just to twist the knife, when he's thrown everything else away so easily.
You narrow your eyes. So be it, then.
You did not let yourself face the truth for so long, so intent you were at looking forward- but now you know, in your path to preserve the Preservation, Oswaldo Schneider must die.
You turn a blind eye to Aventurine's plans, knowing you must use him to entrap Oswaldo. Meanwhile, your eyes are set forward on your goal since the beginning.
To preserve the Preservation, you must find the cast iron throne. Perhaps Qlipoth has even agreed to your ambition, and that is why THEY have given you THEIR blessing of amber, an equal to the likes of Taravan. Those who walk away from their path will be inevitably smited, and the fact that you haven't been yet saddens you- for it means that Qlipoth too agrees that the Preservation has now grown too vulnerable to falling into oblivion.
Opal still shifts his eyes when you discuss your plans- but you suppose it is to be expected. It is unthinkable, the height of hubris, to find the cast iron throne and to think to seat yourself on it.
But you've gone too far to turn back now.
You fail Aventurine by not giving him the satisfaction of ending Oswaldo's life. You are there before he is- and you know there is betrayal in his eyes when you do so.
You don't look back at him however. Your gaze is on Oswaldo- it always has been, come to think of it.
The life leaves his eyes, on this path you've chosen to embark, and he smiles wryly at you, even now.
Your hands shake with anger, but you gaze back at him steadfastly anyway.
"You couldn't have expected this," You say, voice cold.
"No, I didn't." Oswaldo whispers, voice cracked. "But your eyes do always shine the way they do before you weep,"
You don't let him finish, knowing his mouth was about to utter the syllables of your name. You then turn to Aventurine, who smiles twistedly.
"I should have known better to trust you, Diamond." Aventurine says, softly.
"For what it's worth, I am sorry," you say, sincere but unrepentant. "It had to be done, however."
"Of course," Aventurine says, voice still soft with menace. You bow your head in respect.
The path to divinity, to the key to winning this war is one you forge in blood. Archforger is defeated, leaving behind a throne that he had been in the midst of forging. The throne to the path of Wealth, a path he was renowned for in the days of his humanity.
Had it been allowed to grow, it would have absorbed the Preservation as well. So you reforge the thrones of Aeonhood, to strengthen the Preservation. And you take that reforged throne for yourself.
You detest this act of hubris for how necessary it is. But all the pieces are set in place, now.
It is time for the Stonehearts to continue walking their paths.
But even then, you can't help but be relieved that Opal is here to pull you away from that throne anyway. However futile it might be. You are relieved Sugilite has chosen to follow him into this perilous realm of divinity, that's devoured lesser men than them.
You did not want to be alone after all, in the end, selfishly enough.
Even more selfishly, you still miss the boy that once smiled at the stars with you.