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Mailon just looked at Kyrie, his eyes still watering from pain, and Kyrie continued to glare at him, her gaze filled with fury and hatred. Earendil glanced at Lin. His heart was pounding. He didn't know what to expect - hadn't known what to expect from this meeting - and while he was glad that Kyrie hadn't tried to kill the man, he was surprised by how things were going.

Suddenly Mailon slid off his chair and knelt in front of Kyrie, bowing his head low.

"You are right," he told her, his voice settling back to normal. "You were right to kill me then, and you would be right to kill me now. There is nothing - nothing that I could ever do to make up for what I did to you. I do not deserve your forgiveness."

He pulled a knife from inside his shirt and held it up to Kyrie, and before Earendil or Ahkshi could react, Kyrie had it in hand, her grip on it so tight her knuckles were once again white.

"My life is in your hands," Mailon said, looking up at her. "Do with it as you will."

He lowered his head again, baring his neck to her.

Kyrie's jaw clenched tighter, and it was clear she was fighting with herself over what to do. Her grip tightened, but she kept the knife in her lap for the moment.

Ahkshi made no effort to fight with her for the blade. He knew he was no match for her, not physically. Instead, he knelt next to Mailon so that she would have him in her sight as well while she made her decision.

For several long minutes, no one moved. It was as if time had been frozen. Kyrie's eyes were fixed on Mailon, who remained prostrate before her; and Ahkshi gazed at her with nothing but love in his eyes.

Finally, it seemed as though Kyrie had come to a decision. Her fingers moved slowly as she changed her grip on the blade's handle, and then she raised her hand slowly.

Then her fingers opened, and the blade fell to the floor with a clatter.

"They are right," she whispered in a strangled voice. "You are not what you were."

A tear trickled down her cheek. "You have paid your debt. I will do nothing more."

Mailon's head whipped up in astonishment, and Ahkshi threw his arms around Kyrie and held her close.

Earendil let out his breath (which he hadn't even realized he'd been holding) and looked at Lin. He was shaking with relief, and glad that it was over.

Mailon was still stunned, and he pushed himself back up into his chair in silence. The knife was left on the floor until at last Ahkshi let go of Kyrie and picked it up.

"One of my s-surgical knives," he murmured, running his thumb along the flat of the blade. "I haven't n-n-needed it since you c-came ... no w-wonder I d-d-d-didn't miss it."

He sighed and reached for Kyrie's hand. With a final look at Mailon, she took it, then rose from her chair and headed wordlessly for the door.

Earendil didn't know where to go: to stay here with Mailon and see if he was alright (considering what he'd just gone through, and the fact that he had clearly expected to die) or to go with Kyrie and Ahkshi and see if Kyrie was alright.

He looked at Lin hesitantly, and his eyes flickered at both Mailon and Kyrie in turn to see who she thought they should stay with.

Earendil nodded. He squeezed her hand lightly before following after Ahkshi and Kyrie.

Mailon was sitting in his chair again, hunched over, his eyes wide but unseeing, staring straight ahead. His forehead was creased again, but aside from that there was no expression on his face.

"Hm?" Mailon blinked as if he had been suddenly brought back to reality, and he turned slowly to look at Lin.

For a moment he just looked at her blankly, and then he exhaled slowly and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I do not understand why she let me live," he said quietly. "I was ... am ... a monster. An absolute monster. I deserve the fate she dealt me ten times over for what I did."

He shook his head and looked at Lin again. "Why did she let me live?"

Mailon stared a Lin for a moment, then looked down at his hands.

"There is so much blood on my hands," he murmured sorrowfully. "I have dealt out ... so much pain and suffering ..."

He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "It is no wonder I am not trusted anywhere I go. Until now, I thought that my people were hated because of their complete ... refusal to aid those who are not like they are. But ... if these memories are true ... then it is more than mere refusal to aid others. It is ... active persecution of them. And who could possibly have treated them worse than I?"

His voice was beginning to waver, his shoulders to shake. "And ... she was not my only victim ... far from it ... how could I have done such things? Caused so much suffering and pain, for the sake of my own pleasure? How could it have been permitted to go on for so long?"

Mailon shook his head before burying his face in his hands. "It's too late to do anything for most of them," he whispered. "Of ... of all of them ... only Kyrie survived."

He fell quiet for a moment, his shoulders shaking as he cried in silence; and after a bit he looked up at Lin again, his expression one of determination.

"It is too late to make things right with those I hurt," he said quietly but firmly, "but I can still help to prevent it happening to others. Ahkshi was right. I was thinking of myself when I helped others before, now it is time that I stop doing things for my own purposes, and truly help them. For their sakes, not mine."

Mailon absently brushed a tear from his cheek and nodded slowly. "I ... think so," he murmured. "It ... in a way, it helps just to ... to know ... it explains so much ... and yet it is difficult. Still, it gives me a goal, a purpose."

He paused, then added, "I ... at some point, I would like to speak with Kyrie again, but ... I think we both need some time before that would be a good idea for either of us. Thank you, though. For ... everything. Speaking with me. Speaking with Kyrie, asking her to come see me. And ... as painful as it is to know what I do now ... thank you for helping to clear things up."