The Memoirs of Light

Chapter 14- Catharsis

Chapter 14

Catharsis

                “An what?”

                “An eclipse,” Aedan repeated, exasperated.

                Jaylin glared at him, “Shut up, sissy.”

                “Well, not an eclipse exactly,” Avir corrected, oblivious and technical as usual, “An eclipse occurs when one celestial body interrupts the emanation from another. This was more of a reversal of the emitted particles. Or waves. Or, in the case of light, both—”

                “What?!”

                He sighed and consented to limit his brilliance, “You pushed the light back into the sun.”

                “Oh,” she frowned, then looked up in wonderment and said softly, “I can do that?”

                Both men nodded silently.

                “Oh,” she said again, “Can I go home now?

                They were walking back to the cave. Jaylin trailed behind the other two, who were arguing about rocks or something, lost in her own incoherent thoughts. They swirled so much that they made her head feel dizzy and so fast that she couldn’t pin them down. The front of her mind watched her feet appear and disappear beneath her, and the back of her mind worried about getting back into the cave without passing out and the elcipsawhatsit and her destiny and what Adam would think all at the same time.

                But unfortunately no part of her mind was paying attention to low-hanging tree branches, and her forehead met one with a smack.

                She stopped suddenly. For a moment all her thoughts hung, shocked, in one place. Then the precariously stacked pile of all the week’s events came crashing down.

                Quietly, miserably, and pitifully, she began to cry.

                She just stood there, sobbing, completely aware of how stupid it was, which only made her feel worse, and trying with all her will and logic to stop, which has never worked for anyone, ever, and probably never will.

                Footsteps approached. She hoped it was Adam or Maka but knew it was Aedan from the wood-fire smell that she took in with each shuddering breath. She covered her contorted face with her hands to minimize the damage to her dignity and braced herself for insults.

                Instead he put one arm around her shoulder and guided her to sit on a fallen tree. It was rotting and dirty, but Jaylin didn’t really care about things like cleanliness just then. The knot in her chest released, and she stopped caring about dignity and what Aedan thought and let her body and soul cry.

                A long but refreshing time later, when she could breathe without gasping, she sat up straight. Rather than make eye contact with Aedan, she stared at the wet spot her tears had left on his shirt. His arm was still around her.

                “Well. Do you feel better?” he asked, as if to a child, but she didn’t mind because she agreed. She nodded, and then smiled a little because that had been childish too.

                “You can talk to me, you know,” he told her after a moment’s pause.

                To her astonishment, she realized it was true. She felt she could talk to him about anything, and he might even care. But it still didn’t feel right.