Work Text:
“Your teachings were a threat to all I believed in.”
“I never wanted that.”
“Did my opinion matter so much to you?”
These words and so many more hung between them in the air – ghost and godlike, eyes piercing the veil of time to see each other as they once were, so many thousands of years ago. Iovara ix Ensios stood in a shaft of moonlight, chin high and resolute. Hers was the face of a woman who was willing to defend her ideals to the end of eternity if she must, and Forsythia’s throat constricted in frustration and sorrow at the sight. Iovara smiled at her.
“It seems you have one last task to complete before your soul is satisfied. Go on.” It was a gentle dismissal, like so many others she could remember the woman giving her, once upon a time. But she was no longer Iovara’s student.
“What do you think staying here will achieve?” Forsythia began slowly, choosing her words carefully. “You can’t accomplish your goals like this.”
“The gods need to be reminded that we have a spirit, and that spirit is proof against their power.” Iovara’s serenity never wavered, but Forsythia could see the weariness in the depths of her eyes. Her spirit would never break, she knew, but it would be worn down little by little as the eons passed, until the woman who was once the brightest mind of her generation became nothing but an empty husk. That thought invited another – the image of Iovara being broken on the wheel, at the behest of a goddess who would never stop hating her. Bile rose in Forsythia’s throat.
“Your defiance here is an illusion, Iovara.” Her voice was hoarse with emotion. “You are a slave to the gods, bound to their rules, stuck in their system.” She could see the elf woman’s shoulders hunch ever so slightly, and she pressed her advantage. Taking a step forward she said softly, “Your continued existence is proof of the gods’ dominion over all of us.” Memories of a far-off time washed over her as she spoke. Her teacher had always been a great debater, spinning words into grand, heady ideas intoxicating as wine. She had watched her with wonder, equal parts awed and envious. So she had continued to watch, and listen, and learn. How ironic that the turning of the wheel had changed so much, yet she still found herself arguing theology with Iovara.
Iovara had turned her face away, the self-assured mask slipping to reveal a bone-deep exhaustion beneath.
“What are you suggesting, then?” She turned back to her former student, serenity and steely resolve in place once more. “I will not return to the wheel.” Forsythia’s heart clenched. There was only one other escape from this place: utter destruction. Something deep in her soul rebelled at the idea. To never see Iovara again now that she’d finally found her? It was unthinkable. But then she recalled the pale elves at Rymrgand’s temple. Destruction is peace, they had said. A final rest from the ever-changing, ever-living cycle of reincarnation. Looking at Iovara now, seeing the lines of weariness etched into her very essence, a certainty settled over the Watcher of Caed Nua. Her old teacher deserved rest, and it was her duty to help her walk that path should she choose it. She took a deep breath.
“Then… I can disintegrate your soul. Make you cease to exist.”
Iovara took in this new information, seeming to measure and probe it with her mind as if it was an innovative philosophical argument from a star pupil. Finally, she said, “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps there is a way to end this on my terms and not theirs.” She looked up at Forsythia and finally smiled, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “You were always looking for elegant solutions. Well done.” Forsythia smiled back, her eyes burning with unshed tears. Iovara, ever gracious. The praise was more than she deserved.
Stepping forward, she laid a hand on the Engwithan’s shoulder. Iovara’s transparent body suddenly seemed to solidify, for a moment feeling like flesh and bone instead of mere memory. Iovara hesitated, then said, “For my part in leading you to Thaos in the very beginning, I hope you can forgive me.” She swallowed. “I hope...whatever final guidance I’ve given you here proves more useful.” Forsythia shook her head, incredulous.
“You’re asking me to forgive you? After everything I did?” Iovara reached up, covering the Watcher’s hand in hers.
“There are no bad students, only bad teachers. I wanted to show you the truth, but all I accomplished was driving you away.” Impulsively, Forsythia reached out and gathered Iovara into a hug. She was light, with only the barest substance, but memories filled in the gaps.
“But you did show me the truth. It only took a few hundred lifetimes to sink in.” Then, with a smile, “And if that doesn’t make me a bad student it at least makes me an unforgivably slow one.” Iovara laughed.
“Clever-tongued as always, but your premise is faulty.” The ghost leaned her head on Forsythia’s shoulder. “As I can easily forgive that.”
They stood like that for a few moments more, until Forsythia took a deep breath to center herself. It was time.
Still holding Iovara close, the Watcher of Caed Nua closed her eyes, her teacher’s soul shining bright in her mind’s eye. Reaching out, she tugged ever so gently at the threads holding it together and, with a sigh of long-denied relief, Iovara’s form collapsed into motes of light.