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"If you want to say goodbye to me, you should do a requiem."
"That doesn't make sense. We're not aegirs for the songs to matter to us, and you're too alive for a requiem."
"Tsk, you won't even concede. You're a mean old man."
"I'm not much older than you, Lemuen. Don't exaggerate."
Hundreds of guns would not have wounded the dry heart of this obnoxious sankta, who stares with such genuine incomprehension that she wanted to snort. On the other hand, should she talk about other people's feelings when she had become a child of contradictions over the past eight years? Or ten. Or in the infinity between life and death, something she wouldn't want to talk about.
But now the "between" was a few meters, a misunderstanding, and some strange pain in her chest, and the two extremes were Lemuen and Andoain. Perhaps they should have shortened the distance, but for now, they were only taking steps backward.
"Nerd."
"And yet, my observation stands. The fact that I am leaving Laterano is only a pattern, not a form of betrayal or a momentary bliss. Even if it had been the latter, be assured that the desire would have been dictated by duty, but not by passion."
"What makes you think you are betraying me by going away? It's been a long time since we were coworkers for such a thing to be considered desertion and betrayal of the commander — all the more so since I wasn't the one in charge."
"I just got back. We just met. I wouldn't be surprised if you made your own plans for my person or our pastime, whatever it was within the hospital."
"You think you're too important. Better go away and don't come back, I already told you that in the beginning."
"I was only voicing what I would think myself if I were you. I admit, perhaps I should have been more attentive to your own motives and thoughts, rather than a projection of my own ideals."
"That's a clever thought. But are you telling me that if I left, it would be a betrayal to you?"
"Yes and no. That's a metaphysical question that will require explanation."
She wishes she could stop time and make him trade answers for freedom — but it would be cruel, not even heaven's laws could do that. To erase from memory the dialogue, Andoain, everything about the careless martyr who had condemned so many people to suffer — but if he was still alive and hadn't fallen, then he mattered to the world. Selfishness has never been Lemuen's strongest trait, to even in theory sacrifice a Part of the World for her own peace of mind.
But she deserved at least some satisfaction, didn't she?
"If you were planning to scare me with metaphysics, I'm disappointed. It's still a few hours before you leave, so be free to speak your mind."
"Does it make sense to waste precious hours on something that has not under it even a hypothetical possibility of happening? I assumed we had more important things to say to each other."
"Like what? I assumed, just like you I guess, that everything had already been said a long time ago."
"Are you angry?"
Poor, poor Andoain. He was a prisoner of misunderstandings and was there a sphere of life in which doubts and scales didn't wage endless battles for the right to possess his soul and bend him to his side even now, standing before the only link that connected him to the reality of the sterile Laterano, he didn`t know for certain who she was and what step he should take. A strange joke, the halo allows you to feel each other, Andoain could have easily read all her emotions and remained silent, but only out of stubbornness or a strange form of sacredness decided to go a little more human — or it was just an empty game to show how much he didn't want to use the sign of the chosen.
Silly, silly Andoain. Caught himself in a trap and thought that Lemuen would be the best judge for him, so he came to her in the middle of the night — to say goodbye and face the tribunal.
"No. I'm not angry at all. And I don't think you're betraying me now if you care to hear it."
"I'm glad. It would be too hard for me to break up with you, knowing that I'm leaving you like this."
"Don't lie. You've left me in worse states."
Gotcha. She had no reason to shoot him with a gun; it was enough to stab him to the remnants of his conscience, to see if he'd budge. Only the smile with which he took all the verbal blows made Lemuen cringe a little — the masochism of a righteous man can only be compared to the dedication of a madman.
And he was a combination of both. Scary man. He always had been?
"Even I have compassion, especially for the victims in my path. But you know as well as I do who you really are and that those events... had to happen."
"You shouldn't tell a man in a wheelchair that he had to be in one, Andoain. It's unmerciful. Yes, and I see your point — but I'm not the sacrificial lamb in your way who had to be stabbed for the greater purpose and will of the Law. I am something greater. Though perhaps in your case it would be more appropriate to say 'lesser.'"
"You are angry."
"No. I already told you, I'm not angry. I had long ago accepted everything that had happened, I had long ago set the record straight. I'm only saying this because I couldn't say it before — no time, no strength, no understanding. And no “you” there."
"I should probably apologize for that — but my apology won't change anything. Neither the past, nor the present, nor the future, for they will not change my goals and actions. I would still go, I would still shoot, and I would still be obliged to bring light to the world of darkness beyond the walls of the holy city. Neither will "sorry" bring you peace, no matter how much sincerity I put into it. It makes no sense. It's pretentious and alien to both of us, I can be sure of that. But I'll tell you something else in return so that you don't feel as if I'm leaving you in silence — I'll answer you."
In the old days, cavaliers would get down on one knee when they were about to make an offer they couldn't refuse — or put a knife to their throats for the same effect. But he, oh God, he went much further than that. He approached Lemuen and sat down next to her in the chair, extending his hand as if seeking to make their connection more physical, not just a conversation, but a joining of two bodies even for a few seconds.
Andoain himself didn't seem to realize what he was doing. And so he quickly came to his senses, pulling himself back. He mustn't forget that God knows everything, and the mere thought of it was causing him to become pious.
"Look at everything with my eyes, and I will look at the world with yours. Only if we switched places would we understand each other more fully. If you left, driven by purpose, and left behind not only your hometown but also... the man who was by your side even in moments of tragedy, someone else would consider it a betrayal of his feelings. Exchanging a friend or lover for an intangible idea, in a sense, the exchange is not equal. But for me, it is one in reverse — the fleeting does not compare to the eternal, and the subjective view of one does not compare to the objective law of reality. If you had followed these judgments, I would not have dared to think that I had been betrayed. But being a creature of the same imperfect, subjective nature that the Law preaches, I would probably feel a prick of sadness because of you. But I understand the choice you would have to make — the possibility of building your own happiness by betraying the past, or the possibility of fighting for the happiness of many by sacrificing your personal present? Not everyone will find such an uncompromising decision something right. And not every outsider will accept it as calmly as you or, in this example, me. But I would not condemn you, if you felt the bitterness of betrayal. And if I didn't have my destiny in front of me, I... probably could have felt the same way."
It's that simple. Lemuen wanted to lean closer to him, look him straight in the eye, and ask only, "You started a huge monologue with a lot of complicated words just to say that if you were simpler, you would consider my leaving a betrayal, but you are too complicated for that?"
No, it still comes out pretty long.
A simple "Andoain" would suffice. He'll understand. He's hardly forgotten in all these years how she pronounces his name and what's behind it — it was once both a heavy sigh, an attempt at comfort in moments of grief, and an irritated "seriously?"
Yes. She must have been addressed by his name a thousand times while she was in a coma and he was somewhere in the back of the world. So many voices and intonations turned the seven-letter set into a veritable palette of meanings, but she naively wanted to believe that from her lips it would be something more special.
Not another voice from the crowd. Not another sufferer. Not another parishioner looking for attention.
On the other hand, are there special people for him other than himself?
She was silent. He waited. But at some point, even an angel's patience can fail when every minute counts.
"Lemuen?"
But there was no irritation in his voice. There was none of the force with which executioners demand the last word to go on the record.
Only a barely audible concern and a faint sprout of tenderness that has no chance of becoming anything more. But it is enough for her, even a faint hint that there is room for someone else in the dry heart of the too-principled sankta. If only as a reminder of the last shards of humanity.
"I heard you. And I understood what you were trying to say."
"This is the ultimate reward for me."
"But is that all you had to say?"
"No. Far from it."
"So speak while you can. Remember, this may be our last conversation."
"In that case, I'm obliged to ask — is there something you'd like to say to me?"
"Yes. But I'm not sure I should put all my cards on the table at once. It might give you an excuse to see me again sometime. You could never resist an opportunity to get what you want to know, could you?"
A cunning, even manipulative move, but who among us is without sin? At least Lemuen couldn`t be convicted of lying, for honesty was the last virtue she had left.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to call her the only one.
"It is not necessary to leave such clues. Still, if my path passes through Laterano or its environs again, I will gladly visit you, even if you have nothing to reveal to me."
"I should be flattered. Okay, I really am flattered. But I don't have the same stamina, so say what's already left in your heart."
"I'm not sorry I'm leaving. I'm not sorry you're not coming with me — after all, you deserve a better life than the one for wanderers. But just as I have not an ounce of regret in me, so will I keep the memory of you wherever fate leads me in my search for truth."
He needed to take a breath. A pause. And only then to continue, ending the dialogue and beginning the exchange of vows.
"You're right, you're not a sacrificial lamb in my way. You are part of the way. You are an amulet, washed in the blood and blessed by someone greater than me. So I am not sad to leave you, for you, more than anyone else, can protect yourself and give yourself the happiness you see fit."
She had to answer. She should have finished what they had begun, exposed their sincerity, and presented it to the divine court, and then what would happen. After all, what were the odds that their exchange of pleasantries would be overheard, and a declaration of love to a state criminal would actually be an illegal act?
"I can't say the same about me path, for I have never had before my eyes the same road that you see. But it would be more appropriate to say that I care about you, too, and I hope you find what you sacrificed so much for. If not for you, then at least for me, so that my pain is not in vain."
Lemuen approached him after all. She held out her hands, and he, understanding the silent request, bent down to receive a final blessing.
Lemuen kissed him on the forehead — like the dead man he had been to their comrades for eight years. A dead man who struggled so desperately with unshakable tenets deserved at least some kind of requiem.
Is it for her to sing a requiem? Is she to be mourned?
"It will be, Lemuen. I promise."
"I'll remember."
Lemuen kissed him on the lips — completing all the vows, sealing in one single moment the shards of his former weakness.
Nothing else will matter. Nothing else would sow doubt. It would be over as soon as they broke the kiss and went their separate ways.
But they all didn't want to part.