Kira and Cynbel
Apart we are just as much as together, but against all odds I still feel as though the two of us, we ought to stay together.
Consciousness swept over him like a soft wave. He was home again, lying on the beach, and nearly swept away into the surf. He would never have picked such a dangerous place to lie down, where the tides could come and steal the most precious things away from him. And yet, here he was. Her hand was beside his, just close enough to reach out and touch. It was hard to tell if she was awake. His own eyes were having trouble making anything out. The hot sun was bearing down, and the world itself seemed unsure of whether or not it ought to exist. He reached out anyways, enfolding her hand in his, without looking over. Her hand curled slightly in his, in reassurance. "What is this then?" Kira asked, voice weak. "Another mirage?" Cynbel stared at the sky, unable and unwilling to look over. "No, it feels different," he said. "This time, I remember most everything. The fighting, the dying... so many years going by..." "I think I remember as well," Kira sighed. Her grip tightened. "But... this shouldn't be. This beach is long gone, and we should be as well." Cynbel felt the flame of ambition within him fluttering out at last. Everything he'd sacrificed up until this point, it all seemed to wash out of him. Whatever it was he was doing, he must have done. There was nothing left for him to do, but to lie here. "Do you... still want to be together?" Kira asked tentatively. "When last we were here, you thought that maybe there was a trick to all this. We thought maybe... maybe we weren't really in love." Time passed, just as meaning did. Cynbel realized where he was, not just where he was pretending to be, and it seemed as if every part of him stilled at once. He hadn't had a body for countless years by this point, but for the first time, it felt as though he was well and truly disconnected from the world. This new place, well... it did truly feel like coming home. "I still love you, Kira Thovif," Cynbel said, staring up at the sun. "I love you more than I can bear to admit. We were hollow things once, broken by the whims of gods and good intentions, and filled with ideas that were not our own. We were not meant to be vessels, you and I. From the day I met you, I wept for knowing that we could never truly meet one another. And yet..." His hand closed around hers, completely. "And yet I loved you still. We hunted for one another, to pry out every ounce of truth and self from each other, and I loved you for all those pieces. I loved you for the stories others told of you, for the sad tales and glorious victories, and whispers told from across the table." My dear, my fascination, my peace and my solace... I believe we are free, and I believe I love you."
You listen as no one has before. You remember my presence, you count the engraved pearls when you enter my realm. There is no place for you here, but you have forced your place into my heart and mind as you’ve forced the rest of the reality to bend around your will. Is it the seal which drives your strength? Your stamina? Does it control you, as it controls me?
Do you seek my presence, or that which sustains me? My seal is nothing more than a shell for me, a hollow place in which my spirit lies. I am bound but in ties of fellowship and love rather than iron or mortality. If I had a chance to bind myself once again, I believe I would take another burden upon myself. Your strength could sustain the two of us.
Where water once filled my lungs now blistering wounds of sharp claws and teeth fill. I feel your past sink into my soul, binding us with Pandora’s curse. I feel the terror of death again, the satisfaction of a job well-done, the gentle tears of a friend. You fought tooth and nail to get where you are today, and we both lost all that we worked towards. The other seals’ lives cannot reciprocate our loss, so they cannot relate to our arrogance. We hide the hollow of loss with an optimistic outlook. No one can fault a dreamer and a hard worker. Our past has proven fruitless, but we must pretend it was all worth something.
So won’t you listen once more, Daughter of Omens? Won’t you come to my realm again, Siren of the Stone? My dear, my fascination, my caretaker and my solace, it is only you who has drawn out my secrets. It is through your persistance and grace that I’ve come to share my darkest tales once again with this odd world. I will accompany you through your arduous tasks, stand beside you when others fall.