Chapter 550 No Time Left - Part 9

AARYN

Aaryn sat on a bench just outside the back door from the Market stage. Just feet away from the spot where he'd kissed Elreth and their friends had discovered them.

He should have been inside, ready, helping. But his entire body thrummed with tension and grief and he just… he couldn't. At some point after Reth left him standing in the middle of the little clearing, he'd peered in the door to try and catch El's attention, but she'd disappeared. And the idea of walking through the crowds to find her… he just needed some time.

The tension he'd been feeling when he was afraid of letting her down in the traverse was back—but now it was formless.

Everything was going wrong. Or would. He was suddenly certain of it. And he knew he couldn't lead from that place, so he'd stumbled to the bench and dropped onto it, his back to the wall… and he hadn't moved. Wasn't sure how he was going to. Prayed Elreth would find him and they could somehow strengthen each other, because—

The scuff of a foot on the dirt between two of the storage trees in the clearing broke through his thoughts and he turned his head, expecting El. So when Elia slipped into the ring of light from the lanterns, his breath whooshed out of him.

He wasn't sure he could do this again.

She caught his eye once—hers as red as he thought his must be—but she just gave a faltering smile, then watched her feet as she crossed the space between them and settled herself on the bench next to him.

Aaryn made himself take his eyes off her—she was obviously upset—and instead watched a moth flutter around one of the lanterns, its wings flashing in and out of the light that it sought so desperately, completely unaware that if they'd raised the glass to give it the access it wanted, it would die in the flame.

Aaryn couldn't help wondering if they were all just bigger moths that the Creator had to keep ringing in glass so they wouldn't kill themselves in their relentless pursuit of… whatever.

He was glad when Elia didn't speak right away. They'd always been easy together. Especially once he became prominent in the disformed and she was so key to their efforts.

He'd always loved that he never felt like he had to talk to Elia for her to understand him. And he'd never felt like she had to explain herself to him, either.

"You're the one who's like me," she murmured.

Elia's voice was startling—and her statement even more so.

Aaryn snapped his head around. "What?"

Elia sat, her hands pressed under her thighs, staring at her own feet. "I love my children, Aaryn, you know that. They're my heart. But they've both always followed in Reth's footsteps. Honestly, that makes them easy for me to love. But you… when you came along… you were like me. You are like me."

She turned to look at him and it hit him suddenly, that her face wasn't smooth anymore. She still looked youthful, but there were lines around her eyes and places her hair was beginning to dull. But her eyes, when they met his, hadn't faded. They were sharp with intelligence and fierce with love.

"You're like me," she repeated softly. "And that means they won't always see your strength, because you're willing to put your power aside to support theirs. The Creator loves that about you, Aaryn. Whether they realize it or not, don't ever stop loving that way, Aaryn. Don't ever start listening to the bitter people who tell you that you need to be given your due by other Anima otherwise your value isn't recognized. The Creator sees what you're doing, and He loves it. And He'll bless it. Don't listen to the ones who try to tell you that being vulnerable—humbling yourself—is weak. Be you, Aaryn. Love the way you love. Give what you give. Then stand your ground when they don't understand and they underestimate you. You'll win. Every time."

Aaryn gaped at her. But she wasn't finished.

"Please promise me you'll keep Elreth safe," she whispered, her eyes falling from his face to the dirt again.

"You know I will," he rasped.

She nodded. "Promise me you'll keep her on her toes, too," she said with a soft smile.

Aaryn snorted, though the last thing he felt was amusement.

"I will," he laugh-cried.

Then she raised her eyes to his again and they watched each other. Aaryn wondered if it felt as surreal to her as it did to him, wondering if this was the last time they'd speak.

She seemed to be waiting for him to speak, and he wanted to. But he was afraid. So afraid.

"Elia…" he whispered, "I'm scared that we can't do this without you guys."

Elia shook her head, her face solemn, but eyes pinched in pain. "We would help if we were here, of course," she whispered back. "But you're already surpassing us, Aaryn. Poor Reth was starting to feel redundant," she forced a smile. "You don't need us anymore. That doesn't mean we don't wish we could be here. Watching you both, all of you… it's our greatest joy, Aaryn. Do you know that? You've always been a part of our family. Everything you've achieved… it just gives me joy."

His breath huffed out like he'd been punched and he had to turn away. But Elia, true to form wouldn't let him avoid.

She leaned on him, wrapped her around him, and let her tears fall on his shoulder.

"Promise me that you'll hold her when… when she hears," she whispered. "She'll try to stay apart, to keep herself strong. She still thinks not feeling is strength. It's not. You know that, Aaryn. So don't let her push you aside. Please. For me?"

He nodded and gripped her arm that was over his chest. "I can't… I don't know how to—"

"You don't have to. You're me, Aaryn. We have the same heart. I feel it too. It's okay."

So, wordlessly, he turned into her embrace, buried his face in her neck, and held her back. He shook when she cried, and he thanked the Creator when she rubbed her hand on his back. Like a mother to her child.

And then, moments or a lifetime later, she kissed his cheek then got quickly to her feet and darted out of the clearing and into the shadows, as Aaryn dropped his face into his hands and wept.Â