I already know that he will not survive.
I also know that my end is all too near as well.
There should be a sense of peace in the knowledge that our souls will soon be reunited, and I know, as I know all the Dark needs me to know, that all is as it should be. The Riskbreaker has come and gone, the powers will pass… all is as it should be.
All this, and I am still at unease.
I have broken a promise.
The light of a hundred candles flickers as night swallows the room, remembrance and hope intermingled in the shadows of death and rebirth. The light plays across the rood on the ceiling and the image blurs slightly as I let my eyes drift closed.
I will not die here. I could move if that was what was required of me, but I am waiting.
I might say that I have spent too much time waiting, but patience became a necessary trait when this journey first began. And so I am patient even now, when what little is left of this mortal soul wishes to run…to run away from this, run to him, save us both from this fate.
I won't. It is a weakness I have no time for, and a weakness I wonder if I should ever have allowed myself.
The faint jingling of bells and the ghostly brush of a hand across my cheek informs me of the second expected arrival.
It was never a matter of allowing yourself.
Eyes like emeralds gaze at me steadily, a cross between compassion and amusement. "Do not tell me it was ordained by the fates. I lied to him, and I used him. He who I claimed not to love, and he who placed not only his life, but his heart, in my hands."
"That is not the point."
She leans to kiss my forehead, and the calm of her touch washes over me.
The eyes and the touch tell more than the words ever can.
I do not answer her this time, but close my eyes, telling her without words that this conversation is over.
I came not to offer you consolation, but to confirm that all is as it should be, which I am sure you already know.
Her form is dissipating already, and I can hear the rumblings of Lea Monde signifying the Riskbreaker's victory. "Why come if I already know?" I dislike when she purposefully makes little sense.
A promise kept in heart matters far more than one kept in words, and trust runs far deeper than the mortal realm.
She is gone, the city is shaking, the end is near. I know she is right, and that he understands.
Maybe it is that very understanding and trust that I hate myself so much for abusing.
But it seems there is nothing to be said or done about that now.