Chapter 32 #3
"You have done your best, Sashen," said Inmadra. "You lacked proper guidance."
Vivith's expression soured before they seemed to catch themself and forcibly school their face to something more thoughtful.
"This is my failing, I know. I should have offered you the guidance of a cinelaat from the moment you joined our creche.
I should have made you feel at home so that you might receive my guidance.
We are fortunate indeed to have a more experienced and skilled cinelaat in our creche to help us through what comes next.
We must all be careful. Do you understand? "
I didn't. Were both Inmadra and Vivith worried I was going to encourage Araxis to do something stupid?
When had I done that? The only person I'd ever genuinely put in danger was myself – and Elethenn, although he'd done a fine job making shit choices all on his own too.
So I cleared my throat, feeling the weight of the night on my shoulders and a deep weariness in my bones, and said, quiet, "I don't understand why you're telling me this.
I don't know what you're asking me to do. "
Vivith's face spasmed with a brittle emotion before their head whipped around to look at Inmadra pointedly, who only blinked once, very slowly. "Remember," she said. "He cannot hear your subvocals. Stop assuming he's being difficult. Our Sashen is not difficult."
I couldn't help it: I flushed, heat prickling up the back of my neck. Because I was, wasn't I? I had been. I was trying to do better.
The other implication sank in too. I'd heard nothing in the way Vivith spoke, although apparently I'd missed some key piece of information. How much was I losing out on in an average conversation? My humanity suddenly felt like a weight I wished I could shrug off, my body unhelpful and heavy.
"We are asking nothing of you, Sashen," Inmadra continued as Vivith seemed to chew something over, silent.
"That is not our place. Instead, we wish only to remind you that, as we look to Araxis, so Araxis looks to you.
You must be careful, Sashen. You may have to set aside some of your personal values in order to help guide us toward the greater goals of Creche Thiel, goals that are good and just. Everything you do will reflect on Araxis and all of Creche Thiel, and you have positioned yourself in an even greater spotlight than before. "
"Do you truly not understand?" asked Vivith, and the familiar irritation was back in their voice.
That was a subvocal I could hear, at least. "If you tell Araxis to trust this human organization, he will; if you ask him to abandon Xitera and take the creche far away, he will.
If you tell him we must travel to Anhihan or Yellow Fin or Sol, he will assure that we go.
This is why I was so suspicious of you for so long: you have him well in hand in a way that is not befitting –"
They jerked as Inmadra again let out a short, sharp hiss. "Think of Indiva and Sadri."
"Yes, yes," muttered Vivith. "Again, you are right. But others would see their relationship and think it is improper."
"And yet you are Vivith of Creche Thiel."
"Yes, so I am," Vivith finished with a hard breath.
They turned back to me. "I believed that you were harmful to Araxis, Sashen.
I see now that I was wrong, although it is possible that you might, either of you, do harm without intending to.
To the creche, to our creche-mates, to one another.
In truth, it is my opinion that neither of you is particularly equipped for a serious romantic relationship at this time, and yet here we are.
So we must do our best moving forward. We must all do our best."
"Clarity and precision," Inmadra repeated.
If Vivith could have rolled their eyes, I was certain they would have; the little flaring at the outer edge of their eyelids was maybe the abayan equivalent.
"When we arrive in Xitera, Sashen," they said, firm, "you must temper your actions.
You cannot act as you did on Sozamia and Araxis, well-intentioned though he is, will not know how best to guide you.
You do not understand the waters into which we sail or the hidden shoals beneath them.
An action that seems benign and is motivated by admirable sentiment might still see us wrecked upon an unforgiving shore.
Araxis would tell you to simply travel where the wind takes you; he wishes so badly to set you free that he does not recognize that you might unknowingly see our creche to harm.
I understand, now, that this is not what you wish; it is rather that you lack the map necessary to understand where the danger lies.
If you are able, allow our Araxis to do what he has trained to do: you say you wish to be a support for him.
Do so, and be mindful that you might lead him without intending to. Is that clear enough?"
It wasn't and it was, all at once. "You're saying that, if I'm not careful, I could really fuck things up.
Because, whether or not we're aware of it, Araxis is…
following where I lead." And it was true: he was quick to tell me everything I wanted to do was fine, even when it wasn't. Sometimes, it was like even Araxis didn't understand where we could expect rocks under the political waters.
Inmadra had been watching the two of us carefully, and at this, relief broke across her usually stoic features.
"Yes, precisely. The other arkathi will also offer support to Araxis as he takes us to Xitera and assumes his place in the Assembly.
But you have his ear in a way we do not.
We would like to be aligned in this. We will need harmony in order to succeed when so many would see us fail. "
I nodded and thanked them both for speaking with me and found myself drifting back up towards bed.
Except instead of returning to Araxis's side, I stepped into the helm.
I sat down in the co-pilot's seat, staring out at the vast darkness of space as we drew closer to Anhihan Station, and then Xitera beyond.
You're a navigational star, Araxis had told me. Sometimes, I feel like a random burst of radiation.
I shivered, watching the streaks of light sliding past our ship, winking in the darkness.
There was so much darkness all around us, and there would be more darkness up ahead.
There was darkness lurking within me too, secrets and pain better relegated to the void.
How was I supposed to navigate all of this?
How could I find a path when everywhere I looked was only endless black?
You do one thing and then the next, I'd told Araxis when he'd been breaking in my hands.
But that was for him. How was I supposed to do that when I couldn't see the way forward?
How the fuck was I meant to navigate all of this?
I'd gone to Sozamia intent on charting my own path and taking care of myself, and I'd certainly gotten stronger but I'd also fucked a lot of stuff up.
I'd hurt people; I'd killed people; I'd put our creche in danger.
But, I thought as I stared out at the darkness of space, I'd also grown our creche.
Araxis and I had rebuilt what we had on a better foundation.
He could lean on me now, and I knew that my knees would never buckle beneath his weight.
I was used to carrying shadows with me; I was used to putting my head down and getting on with it.
I knew how to carry misery as a dark companion and to keep going despite its weight.
I could do that for him. I could hold it all.
Honestly, I'd told him, I think I'm a lot braver than you.
My elbows were resting on my knees, fingers tangled together as I looked out at the shadows between stars. I was brave, and I'd have to be brave enough for the both of us. I'd have to be brave enough to face down Xitera with the weight of this creche on my shoulders.
I exhaled, soft, and let my eyes drift shut, and when they opened, I straightened and pushed myself up and then went back to our bedroom, where I slipped beneath the covers next to Araxis and kissed the soft skin of his temple before folding myself up against his body and forcing myself to pretend, at least, to sleep.
One step, then the next.
Anhihan. Xitera. Adralne. The Hall of Records. The Assembly Hall.
I would be the treasure he needed. I could be perfect for him. He slept next to me, and I repeated it to myself, again and again and again.
I could, I would. I would.