Chapter 5 #6
"I like this one," I tried, blinking furiously.
"I mean, I think I do. It makes me – sad?
Is art supposed to do that?" Because wasn't that just like us, reaching without knowing if our fingers would ever touch? Hadn't I thought that was what love was before? But this tapestry – it felt hopeless. The fractures were so deep, splintering off into a vast chasm, a hollow core, the void of space itself. The schism could only get worse, the edges widening stone by stone until all that was left was a great emptiness, an expanse that couldn’t be crossed. And the longer the figures stood on the edge, the more likely it was that they’d be swallowed up by the darkness below.
"It can." Araxis didn't look at me, although his weight shifted so that he stood just a fraction of an inch closer.
"This – It depicts two of our ancient heroes, Sadri and Indiva.
This is from their most cherished story.
Here you can see one of the great earthquakes on Xenkavic that ripped them asunder, but they both undertook a sacred labour and were granted one wish each.
Sadri wished for Indiva to have her greatest desire, and Indiva wished for Sadri to find perfect fulfillment.
And so they were reunited, for Indiva desired nothing so much as her Sadri, and Sadri's fulfillment could only be found in her Indiva. "
I looked at him, then, bathed in light from above, and he looked at me, and his lips curved in a fragile, hesitant smile.
"They have a great many adventures, Sadri and Indiva.
This is a reminder that – that there are many labours we might choose to undertake.
In abayan we say that something is the labour of my choosing.
" The phrase was beautiful, soft and yearning in a way that the translation couldn't capture.
"It means that we are willing to struggle and even suffer, to persevere and persist, because the labour is – It is cleansing.
It is in pursuit of that which is important to us.
Our greatest desire, our perfect fulfillment. "
My heart was shivering against my ribs as I stood there, staring at him.
I swallowed, throat dry. It was, in some ways, the opposite of what I'd said I wanted to do with Araxis.
I hadn't wanted to work with him on fixing this…
thing. I'd wanted space to try and fix myself.
And the more space I'd taken, the farther away I'd walked from the chasm that separated us.
Instead of reaching for each other, we'd both gone away.
I looked back to the tapestry, throat tight, my skin prickling.
But here I was. Here we were. And we weren't exactly Sadri and Indiva, but we were exploring whether we could be.
Araxis had asked me on a date – had been researching dating for my sake – and I'd been quietly working myself to the bone to try and be the best virra I could be for him, even if I ended up walking away at the end of our contract.
Araxis said that both Indiva and Sadri had chosen to undertake their own labour, something to make them worthy of a great gift.
Maybe that was what we were doing. Before we could be reunited, we had to, each of us, undertake labour of our choosing, and then we'd see if what we still wished for was each other.
I opened my mouth to try and put some of that to words, but then my wristband chimed with a reminder. When I flicked my calendar open, I saw with start that my session with Inmadra was rapidly approaching. I’d lost track of time. "Oh," I started. "I –"
Araxis waved a hand. "It's fine, Sashen.
I know you had other things to do today, and we were late departing and – it took some time to arrive.
" His lips quirked in a smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes.
"I consider myself very fortunate to have had an excellent escort, otherwise I might still be signing things. "
"Or fending off wandering hands," I joked. "There's a whole art form to that, believe me. I'll have to teach you."
"Ah, well," his smile sharpened, "You are a very fine teacher. I am always amenable to your instruction."
I thought about asking if he was also amenable to my wandering hands but – it felt like too much, too soon. Instead, I tapped off the notification and looked toward the door. "Thank you," I said, "For arranging this. It was – It was nice."
"Hm, nice," he repeated, dry. "Enjoy your afternoon. Did you want a shuttle?"
"Oh, no," I said breezily. "I like to take the inter-ward tunnels. Keeps me humble."
He trilled then, eyes crinkling as he looked at me with a burst of warmth. "Yes, you have many fans now. It would be easy to let that change you."
I knew it was a risk to try a joke in another language, but you only live once.
"Soon I might introduce myself by saying, I am Sashen," I said, conjugating the introduction in a way that implied I was a very old and respected arkathi.
Like putting on a cut-glass accent and pretending to be a queen of some moon somewhere.
Araxis trilled again, delighted. "You are a very skilled student, Sashen," he said in abayan. Then, "I am grateful to have had this time with you, beloved. Oh. Before you go, I had thought we might choose something to purchase. Was there a piece you liked? I imagine not the one that made you sad."
I swallowed, looking at the tapestry behind him of the two lovers, torn asunder before each went on their own journey so that they might be reunited – but it was only because of their selfless love for each other that they were.
"I would like that one, I think." I chewed on my lower lip for a moment, took a hard breath, and said, "I think – Maybe it makes me sad, but it also makes me feel hopeful. "
And then, with Araxis watching me with liquid ink eyes that shimmered in the overhead lights, I said goodbye and headed to the nearest inter-ward tunnel so that I could trek down to Radiant Ward and to that other separate sphere of my life.
And I know, I know: it was the height of arrogance to believe that I could somehow create these two perfectly discrete, bisected parts of my life.
Like there wouldn't be any spillover between the two.
It was especially arrogant to believe that when I knew that Creche Thiel was making waves and that I was stirring the pot in my own sneaky and selfish way, and when I'd already been approached by a sinnenthi with hungry eyes.
But then, I really did still think I could have my cake and eat it too.
Or, as abaya say, that I might bank the fire and dance in its light.
It didn't take long for it to become clear that the realms I imagined were separate were, instead, overlays and that the picture they were making was one of violence and blood.