Silver / clay

⊱ 29 ⊰

The video call rang off.

"Should I try again?" said Caleb, to his tiny apartment. Through thin walls, the clangs of pipes gave a kind of reply.

He didn't want to impose on her in the same way these sounds imposed on himself. He didn't want to be the sewage knocking on her metaphorical door. But this was also the exact time she asked him to call, so it would be an expected nuisance.

He tried again. This time the purity of a seraph's features greeted him almost immediately, as if the first missed call was a test of his fortitude. She smiled in that knowing way, a quiet self-confidence backing a subtle nod of recognition.

Caleb couldn't contain the joy in his heart. "I have the urge, just now, to bow, or get to my knees, or to find some other way of showing my complete reverence for you. But I know I shouldn't ask you to command it of me, since it would be for me and only me. If you want me to show my subservience with a physical action, I'll do it; if you don't, I won't."

"You are right to question your actions if they are for your own pleasure," said Amala, "as your path to true freedom lies elsewhere. I assure you, my sweet, your devotion to me is manifest in your purpose."

He took the hint and stayed put, squeezing down his desires to lay himself prostrate. "Is everything-- Are you OK? We don't normally talk this soon."

"Yes, yes it is," said Amala, taking a breath. "I have wonderful news. Very soon I will be leaving." Her smiling face tilted in a playful way.

The blood in Caleb's face withdrew in an instant. His gaunt features were only exacerbated by the wretched expression that took command. "I don't understand."

"You are worried," said Amala. "No, this is not the end of our journey, my sweet."

Her words were soothing, should have been soothing, but Caleb couldn't think straight. "What's...what do you...?" He shook his head, the apartment spinning around him. "Are you...holiday?"

"I will be gone for a small while," said Amala. "Such a small while you will barely notice it. Isn't that wonderful?"

"Yes," he said, robotically, unable to concentrate through the thick fog in his mind. "Yes?"

"There is something I need you to do," said Amala.

"How do..." Thoughts of Marcus filled his mind, and other Marcus', similar in some ways, different in others, a menagerie of choice picks who had naturally succumbed to the majesty of Amala. "Is it because of someone else?" He flung himself forward, toward the camera. "It's OK! I don't mind if it is, of course, I just...I don't understand."

"Follow my instructions and draw a deep breath," said Amala. "In...and out."

He tried, he tried, he tried, but it was difficult.

"That's it," said Amala. "In and out. Slowly. Deeply."

With his chest rising into the air, Caleb managed to control his breathing.

"It is important for you to hear my words," said Amala. "What I am to say next is vital. Do not spend your tribute, but do not send it to me."

"What do I do with it, then?" said Caleb.

"Save it for when I return," said Amala.

"When will that be?" said Caleb.

"Will you do this for me?" said Amala, her own breaths deeper than usual.

"Of course," said Caleb. "I will do anything you ask. I just don't want you to miss out. It's your money, after all, even while it momentarily passes through my hands. I don't want you to suffer!"

Amala nodded, though her breathing hadn't subsided. "That pain you feel from the tips of your toes, rising through your body and tingling your skin, is a yearning for me, and one you are no stranger to."

Caleb nodded.

"It will always strike your heart in your darkest moments," she continued. "But hear now the good news. Even in those moments of despair I will be with you. When life has hit its nadir, I will be with you. When the sense of loneliness creeps up on you, and tries devouring your soul from the inside, I will be with you, for I am always with you, my sweet."

Dizziness from the initial shock continued to grow through Caleb, its cause now overtaken by pure bliss.