No Longer Spring - Writings of Yesterday

December 1

"I couldn't leave, but I never gave up on coming back," you said, "I was waiting for the end. The whole sect has started to fall as more of their people lost their lives and, thankfully, you blew the final strike by coming here."

You took out the hairpin from your hair and let it fall towards the ground, a strand falling gracefully in front of you. I could not say how much I treasured your presence.
You were safe then and there; the curse was inactive for as long as someone from their bloodline didn't come and take over and, if that were to happen, I would have broken the curse way too long ago.
I had your back.

"I didn't expect to see you there, but I'm so glad I came," I coughed, sighing. 

You nodded, "I was about to get to you as soon as it was safe," and, after a short pause, you continued, "A shift in the world's hierarchy is taking place, and we might not be able to stand a chance."

"We will deal with it as it comes. If it's needed, we'll traverse the seas and find an even better place to live. Humans are meant to adapt."

You laughed, adding more liquor to your cup. Rays of sun fell onto the entrance as the birds sang the beautiful melody of a morning.
Having said that, I felt a sense of injustice. Humans weren't going to adapt- even if you grow in a medium that's not meant for you, you'll never truly be a part of it. I get that, I understand. It's just that you were my reason to fight, so I knew that we were going to find a way to make it work now that we were together once again.
Looking down at your hand, I broke the silence.

"It's not like how it used to be, is it?"

"It isn't. The world is much more bigger than we thought."

"And life is much more cruel too, always raw and ready. Every person around us is temporary, it seems."

You nodded.

"Yes, perhaps it is."

After a pause, I drank my cup in one go. Among the comfortable silence, there was something heavy that we were both aware of and as much as we'd have liked to ignore it, on this planet at least, things always seem to come to an end.
All we were in need of was a new beginning.

"Should we put this town on living terms again? Should we give them a second chance to a better life?"

"Would you go as far?" I asked, drinking directly from the bottle. You seemed serious and I loved the idea. We always joked about building something together.

"I would," the spark in your eyes was priceless and I didn't need any other validation.

"We will, then. Let's make one more name for ourselves."

You smiled at me as I put down the bottle.

"Are we done with living as travelers?"

"Of course not. It's in our nature."

We both laughed as we tried getting up from the floor. The room started spinning around as we bumped into each other, a laugh escaping our lips.

It was a good thing that you were not hurt, do I didn't have to worry. You tended to my wounds and bought badges from the town below in order to secure my palms that had bled all over before. You tended to my chest that I hadn't even realized was hurt and put medicine on my shoulder while I insisted I could do it alone.
It was weird; letting you do these things for me.
I came to take you back and now you were the one taking care of me?
Even though we always took care of each other, it was different that time. It was the same as always, but new. We spent our days and nights together. We ate fish and drank when we felt like it, indulged into sleeping late. We meditated and read, spoke and dreamed and, in the seventh day, I had gotten up again to spare.
My wounds healed, but I was getting worse and worse. The beautiful temple and the altar, the bed in which we slept; I saw them even in my sleep, not being quite able to tell reality from illusion.