Page 151 of Crystal Caged
Vi moved forward in a trance. She held her breath until he turned to face her, then exhaled his name like a prayer. “Taavin.”
“Vi Solaris.” He still regarded her warily. It was the physical embodiment of the verbal distance he’d kept in all of their communications through the watch she now wore.
She approached slowly, as though he were an animal that might spook. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yes, well. I only agreed to this meeting because you said you had something for me.” He was as stiff as Vi remembered him being the first few times they’d met. The memories brought a nostalgic smile to her lips, and that only seemed to frustrate him more.
Just as there had been a Vi born into this world, so there was a Taavin. But like all the other ninety-three Taavins, he lacked his memories.
Reaching up to her neck, Vi undid the chain there. She held out the silver pocket watch to him. Taavin accepted it with both hands, running his fingers over it.
“This… is what has my mark.”
“Yes.” Vi motioned to one of the sofas. “Let’s sit?” He followed her, still fascinated by the watch.
“You said when we were in person, you would tell me how you got this.”
“It will be easier to show you.” She paused, hesitating. The crescent-shaped scar was missing on his face, and his hair was shorter than she remembered, but everything else about the man was the same. Should she force him to endure the memories of his past selves? Was it cruel to bestow that on him once more?
Give him his memories. Let me return to you, Vi.
“Show me… how?”
“I’d like to give you a choice,” she said softly. “It will be a lot to take all at once. It might hurt. And once I give you this knowledge, I can never take it back.”
He chuckled deeply. “I’m not afraid of whatever magic you have.”
“Then you wish to know?”
“I did not help you come all this way to stop now.”
Vi closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them with purpose, looked him right in the eye, and said, “Thrumsana.”
Glyphs appeared from the watch in his hands—layers and layers of them. They swirled around him, filling the room with symbols that Vi could still understand even though Yargen was long gone from her body and mind. In every shining symbol, she saw an entire turn of the vortex written in the language of the gods. She saw joy and sorrow, victory and defeat—she saw herself and Taavin in every one.
Taavin dropped the watch and clutched his head. He trembled, groaning. Vi reached for him.
“It’ll be all right.” She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. “It’ll be over soon.”
His shakes became violent but Vi only held him tighter. The magic began to shine brighter. Taavin’s ragged gasps grew longer and longer. The watch had fallen to the floor and it now glowed white-hot from the endless release of magic. Vi clutched the man in her arms, watching as the watch cracked, released an exhale of fire like a dying breath, and then disintegrated to dark ash.
The magic faded and the room returned to normal. Taavin pushed her away roughly, staggering to the windows. He placed both hands on the panes and continued to inhale and exhale loudly.
Vi stood, waiting for his verdict. Would he truly remember her? Would he still be the Taavin she knew?
Would he hate her for the pain she’d forced him to endure one final time?
She dared to approach him. He still didn’t turn. “Taavin?” she whispered, hoping and pleading at the same time.
He spun in place, looking at her with shining emerald eyes. Vi saw recognition.He knew her.
A surprised, strangled noise escaped her as something like a laugh of relief. Taavin moved for her and Vi stood in joyful shock.This should be impossible.
And yet, those were his arms wrapped around her. His hand on her face, in her hair. His lips pressed to hers—him kissing her as though they were still saying goodbye. Vi’s fingers knotted in his clothes, tugging him closer still. She deepened the kiss, as if to remind him that this washello.
The world wasn’t ending any longer, though it still contained its share of problems. Light and darkness, chaos and order—everything was precariously balanced. Vi knew better than most that every action was what kept them—all of them—from slipping into despair.
A kiss couldn’t change any of that. A kiss wouldn’t ensure the happiness of Meru and the Solaris Empire, and all the people within for years to come. A kiss wouldn’t be the end of the brutal dance of light and darkness.
But if one kiss could, this kiss would be it.
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