Nivaleth's Cathedral

FOUR: LEAVING IS ALWAYS PROBLEMATIC

Rain tapped at the windows and clinked in glass. Tap, tap, tap. It fell in gentle motions and softly cried out in joy. I can feel the rain fall and I can hear it sing. I can see a meadow and the love it brings. They sung softly, quietly. A mother's voice. Not inspirational or nice or something one wants to pay money to hear...but something so sweet and loving that one never want them to stop.

"Luis..."

She cried the night I died and cried when I was found alive. The tears didn't fall until my face was bruised and still.

"Luis..."

When I saw her last on the bridge the air turned cold. No one understood the cost of never growing old. In the spring we buried her and in the fall we watched her tears.

"Luis..."

I miss you when you're here and I miss you when you're gone. You're never gone but you're never quite here.

"Luis, please."

She kept going. It was as though she never tried, as though she didn't want to try, to stop. Their lives were on trial and deemed unworthy. Discontinued. Nothing made things better and nothing ever would make it better again. The tears fell before anything could stop them and the more that fell the softer her voice became.

Tell me...are you listening?

Tell me...can you hear me?

Tell me...what makes the air breathe? What makes us cry at night? What makes nothing ever good again? Why must the good die before their time? Why aren't you here?

Her voice fell on dead ears and deaf thoughts. She was missing two lines and couldn't recall what they were. That didn't matter, though. Nothing could ever fix what had happened. He was dead, he was gone, he wasn't alive. He wasn't alive.

Come back, she cried. Come back, Destrim.

It wasn't death but it was worse. Not alive. Never alive. Always gone, always going and never reaching the destination. There is no destination. There is none beyond life. Were those the missing lines? Or just what she wanted to think? Luis felt his hands and heard his voice but it wasn't him. He was gone--Destrim had become dead in all but magic. Comatose.

"Luis, it's time to go."

Please don't leave me, she sang. Her voice was a prayer and a thought that never left. Destrim, in the summer you'll be laughing and in the winter you'll be dying and in spring we'll watch her die and in fall you'll never cry...again.

"Please, Luis."

It's time to go and I'm sorry that you're gone but it's never a good time to move on, is it? There's no hope left, she sang, none except your sadness. None except our madness. Of going on without you.

His fingers touched her shoulder softly and his lips brushed against her head. "The mourning song is end, Luis. We must be on our way," he whispered, "we'll come back for him. His magic is alive, so he mustn't ever go."

Her song was over and she stood. The tears had died upon her face and left behind only a bit of sad to linger until she could no longer muster the strength to cry. They glistened in the dim light that fell from the sky. Beauty shown, but not classic beauty. It was harsh and cold, stern in ways one doesn't dream about. She gave him a small smile and nodded just barely, her braid falling into her face. Aritemes pushed it back behind her neck then gave her hand a gentle squeeze before smiling back.