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“I am… better than okay. I love you.”
I cup my hand on his face and then he leans in and we kiss. The first kiss free of the bounds of lust. A kiss of affirmation. A kiss of love.
42
NIYAH
“The mudrosti, then, it’s like all the major events of your life carved onto the wood?” I ask.
“Yes,” he nods.
I turn the rod over in my hands studying each tiny carving. They are intricate and beautifully done.
“Every Urr’ki does this?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “It is a tradition. We have them going back lifetimes. It is how the history of our people is kept.”
“Fascinating,” I say.
“How did your people keep their history?”
I frown.
“We used to have technology,” I say. “Now…”
Now what? Now we have nothing. We are so focused on surviving to the next day that no one has considered recording history.
He places his hand over mine and I look out of my reverie into his warm, beautiful eyes.
“History is important,” he says. “History and hope. You give me hope. For me, for my people.”
“I don’t know about all that,” I say, blushing.
“It is truth. As Urr’ki we understand that one world flows into the next. For that to happen each world must come to an end. This is what the Shaman teaches but it is not original to him. It is what we always know.”
“But does it have to be in death? Does it have to be now?”
“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “But I do know that our souls are intertwined. You and I, we are dragoste. Meant to be. And when you came into my life I found the one thing I didn’t know I’d lost. Hope.”
I choke up and he squeezes my hand inside of his.
“You say the nicest things,” I manage to get it out finally.
He chuckles.
“You bring that out in me,” he says. I hand him back the mudrosti and he places back into its case with great care. “I will now have to continue it. I thought it was done, but I was wrong.”
“Because of us?”
“Yes, us,” he says and the way he says it fills my heart with joy.
Such a simple word but it sounds like it resonates with the universe when it comes from his lips.
“Yes, us,” I agree, smiling.
“There is one more thing,” he says. I don’t know why but he suddenly seems hesitant. Almost shy. He drops his eyes, clears his throat then reaches into a pocket. “I hope you like it.”
He lays a small box on the table between us.
