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To weep because a glorious sun has set
Which the next morn shall gild the east again;
To mourn that mighty strengths must yield to fate
Which by that force a double strength attain;
To shrink from pain without whose friendly strife
Joy could not be, to make a terror of death
Who smiling beckons us to farther life,
And is a bridge for the persistent breath;
Despair and anguish and the tragic grief
Of dry set eyes, or such disastrous tears
As rend the heart, though meant for its relief,
And all man’s ghastly company of fears
Are born of folly that believes the span
Of life the limit of immortal man.
-Sri Aurobindo
Ra’s had lived for a long time, probably too long. He had seen, felt, and done so many things. He remembered what would amount to thousands of lifetimes. They were like a weight, both grounding and drowning. They left him numb to most things, but most of all feelings.
He had hated, he had loved, he had had felt such profound sadness, such profound happiness, nostalgia, melancholy, anger, so many times they held no point anymore. He had over the years learned to move past emotions, considering them an inconvenience or a distraction at best. He had loved again and again and then lost again and again. So much mourning. So many had been taken from him. He watched them die. Watched the light leave from their eyes so many times it eventually left from his.
Sora, his first wife, his first love, had always been a strong woman but so full of hope that it spilled on him. She was hard and serious but the smiles she used to give him had made him feel alive. He traced the tattoos on his abdomen. Sora had been an artist and he had been but a mere canvas for her work both literately and metaphorically. The day she died, as much as it sounded cliché, a part of him died too. A crack added in his mirror of hope.
That pattern continued he fell in love over his long life. Men, women, people they eventually left. Leaving nothing but cracks behind until he thought it had finally shattered. He could never bring himself to curse his lovers with immortal life, no matter what their deaths cost him, non of them deserved such an existence. It was a never ending cycle.
All of that because of some hopeless notion that he could save the word. A notion, a hope. A love for the word that slowly turned to hatred the more the word ate parts of him up. But he continued to march with that hope only to lose more of it. He was now convinced that there was no hope. That hoping was foolish and would eventually eat you up. He had promised himself Melisande would have been the last. Her death had shattered the last remaining hope he may have held.
He was left with hate. Just hate. He passed that to his children. There were many things he regretted but destroying his relationship with his children was the biggest regret of his life. He didn’t know when exactly his vision of a new earth a better earth twisted from saving to destroying and burning it all down and starting anew.
Timothy was a surprise. He had thought there was no love left for him to give. Timothy continued to prove him wrong in so many ways. He had picked up the pieces and had restored a weird sense of love in him. Yes he had felt fond of others after Melisande. Even fond of Timothy before and when they started their game, but never loved.
Timothy was magnificent. Other worldly and unnerving. He made his heart beat faster and his body shiver with excitement. He spoke with the same calculating deadliness that he fought with and Ra’s couldn’t take his eyes nor his mind of him. He was new and exhilarating. Ra’s may have been falling in love and he was absolutely petrified at the thought.
Forever – is composed of Nows –
‘Tis not a different time –
Except for Infiniteness –
And Latitude of Home –
-Emily Dickinson
The living room was quiet but the occasional turning of pages. Timothy was half lying, back against Ra’s his hair tickling his shoulder. As interesting as Hamlet was Ra’s was quite distracted. He felt the weight against him. The rustling of fabric against fabric. Every inch of his body alert.
Timothy shifted slightly, settling more comfortably. He looked up at him, strands of his hair falling on his face. He raised a questioning eyebrow at him and Ra’s shouldn’t be that surprised he noticed he had stopped reading.
“Distracted?”
“Thinking”
“About?”
“You, beloved” He smirked as Timothy rollled his eyes and closed his book.
“You make me blush. Next you know you will be telling me how beautiful I am”
“It would be nothing but the truth.”
Timothy brushed his hand against his cheek as Ra’s leaned down and kissed him.
“Is this an attempt to distract me while you are plotting the next downfall of humanity?”
“Perish the thought, detective” He replied smiling.
Timothy placed his book on Ra’s lap, got up and stretched. Ra’s eyes definitely didn’t follow the movement of his muscles.
“We have to get ready I have work to do”
“We have to? You could take some much needed vacation”
“I’m afraid some of us are but mere mortals that must go to work”
“I had no idea you held such high regards of but you’re more that a mere mortal, detective”
Timothy just ignored him. “Coffee?” He asked instead.
“Your obsession with that particular beverage is rather concerning”
“It’s the second one for today you are overreacting”
Ra’s looked at the watch at his hand mostly for show since he knew exactly what time it was.
“It’s ten a.m.”
“Mere details. You want some or not?”
“Thank you but no. Some of that tea you bought last week would be delightful though”
“Should I be worried that you know when and what I buy”
“I know no such things, I simply noticed it in the drawer”
“Very believable, the years haven’t done much for your acting skills, have they?”
“If you say so detective. Acting has always been your stongspot. How is Caroline doing I heard she is working for some underground club?”
“She is very well, thank you. She has almost gotten the info she wants.” He said as he walked out of the room and into the kitchen.
Ra’s was alone again. He closed the book that he hadn’t really been reading for a while and placed it , along with the detective’s, on the table. He smiled. He felt a sense of warmth. He got up and followed the detective to the kitchen.