Disappear: Into Shadow

- CHAPTER FORTY SIX -

A constant element of modern Toronto's distinctive skyline is one of the tallest free standing structures in the world. The CN Tower was a testament to the engineering prowess of the human species. Squatting high atop its summit, well above the bulbous observation deck and rotating restaurant of the monolithic phallus, Mithras and Immael enjoyed the view. As the sun slipped out of sight, the fading daylight seared the horizon and heavy pollution hanging over the city and green-ish waters of Lake Ontario. The pinks, purples and crimson within the swirling bands of pollution reminded the Watcher of the pastels on an artist's palette.

The strong winds whipping past Mithras were not a bother. He listened to the groans of the mighty structure as it bent, wondering how long this monument would hold out against the wind. It was a question without meaning. There was nothing timeless about anything in this world, and he recognized it. After a thousand years of relative alone time, he was uncomfortable having to meet Azrael yet again. He knew the storm was coming. He had seen it in the distance long ago. Perhaps it was up to him to warn those lost in the clutter below. He could help those who didn't see the rains coming, but that would mean becoming involved in the world again.

Mithras knew inside he was reacting to the losses he'd encountered in his previous experiences, one of the main reasons he had chosen a hermetic lifestyle. No one had forced it on him. Now, it appeared that life was drawing to a close. Difficult decisions lay ahead. A rugged path that would define this last leg of his journey on the world. He wondered if Azrael felt the same way. He sensed fatigue in her but did not know her hearts on the matter.

A raven, soaring high in the clouds, glided towards the pinnacle of the tower. Mithras saw the bird's outstretched wings through the descending night's murky half-light and said, "Here she comes."

The raven, barely visible against the last slivers of light bleeding from the sky, landed on the transmitter beside Mithras. Flapping its wings, the bird shook out its feathers and it grew into Azrael. "This isn't the sort of place I figured you'd be drawn to Mithras," she said.

"I like the view, the silence of high places. It's a question of perspective. You see more of the big picture from a height than on the ground."

"You miss the details of the ground." Immael offered.

"I'm not interested in textures anymore. They constantly change. It's the panorama I find fascinating. If a storm is coming, you can prepare for its arrival. Down on the ground, you're wrapped up in all the little mundanities. One might not even notice the storm until it's hanging over you, and then you're soaked." Turning, a fixed look in his eye, the former Bull God asked, "What will you do when the balancing comes?"

Azrael's luminous blue eyes flashed. "I will continue with my duties."

"Wrapped up in duty. You do know you have free will in this."

"I must remain loyal to the exploration and the role chosen for me." Azrael's eyes were as distant as her reply.

"You were removed from that role years ago!" Mithras scolded. "When we were outcast you made the choice to stay on in a new capacity. What's that if not free will? Perseverance in the face of common sense?"

"Just because you walked away from your duties, doesn't mean I can. I do what I must."

"Aren't you tired of all this? The hiding? The temptation? This war we're caught in the middle of? The deaths?"

"I am tired." She said. "I'm very tired."

Mithras didn't know how to comfort the sadness in her. He reached out, resting a hand on the raven-haired watcher's shoulder. "We'll all be free soon. What news from Raziel?"