“Oh, you are so far out of line, you’ve already disappeared out there.” She pointed to the blackness beyond.
“And you are so far in line, you’re already cast in stone. How can you accept staying with someone so beneath you?”
“What does it have to do with you?! What, honestly, does my existence have to do with yours?!” She wrung her hands. “Maybe I only have half of someone’s else soul, and not even a good soul at that, but I’m convinced you don’t have a soul at all. Would half a soul even fit in your body? Your ego already fills it up!”
“Better my ego than your brain.”
“Better my brain than your heart.”
“Better my heart than yours. It doesn’t belong to you either. It belongs toCastor,” he sneered, aiming the words where he knew they would hurt, and when she recoiled from him, he regretted it. But she recomposed herself, and he didn’t apologize.
“Don’t speak of my heart like you know it so well. You knownothing.”
“Then don’t presume to know what I can and can’t do.”
“Fine!” Her eyes flashed. “You want to ask the Council? Ask them. But even if they say ‘yes,’ you’ll be wasting your breath. I willneverbe yours.”
“Fine. I won’t ask. You can forget me telling them about your little input to my project.” Luc waved her contribution off like it had been anything but invaluable. “In fact, lessons are finished, so you can forget me altogether,” he continued. “You can go on to woodworking and stay there for all eternity if that’s what you want.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“We won’t speak of this again.”
“We won’t speak at all. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Lila offered this last word coolly, regaining that firm impassiveness she wore so well. All emotion had fled from her face, as if she was utterly unbothered by what had just happened.
Did she really not care if this was the last time they spoke to each other? Even when Luc had imagined their relationship ending, he’d imagined it closing like a scroll in the Library—peacefully, methodically, as a matter of course.
Then again, their relationship had begun with one startling act of ferocity, so perhaps an abrupt, violent end was fitting.
Perhaps, necessary.
In any case, the door had shut so suddenly, so forcefully, that Luc knew there was no going back, no opening it again.
Before he could say anything else, and without so much as a ‘farewell,’ Lila turned and marched off, vanishing into the brightness of Heaven while he stood at the edge of the Void, watching her leave with anger still burning in his throat. Though anger at who, or what, he couldn’t say.
Present Aeon
Afew stolen moments with Lila had lifted Luc’s spirits like nothing else could have. So much time had passed, but her effect on him remained the same. When she believed in his ideas, he believed in them. Her faith in him could push him through any obstacle or setback.
Over the past aeon, he’d tried not to think of her, but that had proved impossible. For even the slightest glimpse of her would send him hurtling back to that obelisk. To all the moments they’d shared there, down to the last.
Once again, he’d been slammed against the stone. Shattered.
Once again, he didn’t care.
He’d not been surprised to learn that Lila was still taking lessons in whatever field she was allowed to study. His messenger had informed him that he’d found her practicing with the student warriors. Apparently, she’d been working her way through the rest of the guilds for the past aeon, mastering each skill one by one, though there were no pins for her, no positions to be gained, no real assignments, no accolades.
Lila learned for the sake of knowledge. He’d been drawn to her, once, for that reason.
She drew him still.
And, still, she belonged to Castor.
Luc’s old resentment surfaced, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. He could wallow in self-pity later.
