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“Does it hurt, still?”
The question merely nudges the peace. Themis had spoken very gently.
“Hm?” Aisa, half-asleep, didn’t quite catch it.
“Does it hurt, still?” Themis repeats the question a little clearer as he rolls himself up onto his elbow, looking over at Aisa. The Convocation ended the meeting early, and the two had nothing pressing to do, so they elected to while the time away together in the grassy lip of a nearby courtyard. The weather was too good to pass up.
“What? These?” Aisa waves a hand vaguely at his closed eyes. Themis nodded. The other man never seemed to open his eyes, nowadays. Aisa remains silent. “Y-yes, I mean your eyes.” Themis affirms, a little abashed. Aisa chuckles.
“Only when I open them. It’s not so bad otherwise.” Aisa stifles a yawn, stretching his arms over his head and leaving them there. Sprawled and sunning like a cat.
“Oh.” Themis fully sits up, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I’m sorry.”
Aisa laughs once more. “Don’t be. I’m not sorry.”
A breeze picks up, easing the building warmth of the afternoon. As it touches the heads of the nearby trees, small blossoms flutter free of their boughs in a shower of white-pink. One lands on Aisa’s nose. He plucks it from his face to twirl it by the stem, slowly.
Themis watches as he opens his eyes, just a crack. He sees Aisa’s eyes for the first time in weeks. Broken glass, Themis thinks. The black of the pupil and the pale gold of Aisa’s irises bleed into one another, cracked and clouded, his gaze hovering around a point to try and focus on the flower. It wavers, but he smiles anyway.
“Some things are worth hurting for, Themis.”
___
The memory comes back to Elidibus, at the end of all things. Indeed, there were so many things to hurt for. Dreams, memories, lives. All that he’d done and given up for that perfect, broken world. His axis. He looks at what’s left of it, arrayed before him in sparkling crystal. He gathers them into his hands, cradling them to his heart.
“Yes… I would save everyone. This I believed…”
He looks up, and loses himself in a moment of reverie. He can feel his heart as each old memory digs heavy into his chest. It’s a relief to bear this pain again.
“… My people. My brothers… My friends.” A tear slips, but he looks up at the new face of an old soul. He sees Aisa’s eyes for the first time in eons. Clear, whole, mournful. The Warrior looks at Elidibus, his brow creased as if in pain. It is impossible for him, as a sundered being, to even know the depth of their loss.
But the Warrior and his allies had given everything and more to keep that loss from ever coming to pass, to their own world. Their axis, as malformed as it is in his eyes. It is a luxury Elidibus cannot afford, but one he cannot deny them. So be it.
“Stay strong. Keep the faith. At duty’s end, we will meet again.” Elidibus speaks an old farewell, half to himself. Half to… Aisa. To what was left of him, in this new form.
“We will.” Elidibus clutches the crystals tighter to himself.
“We will.” Their cold edges dig into his chest, and he thinks of warmth where they should be instead.
“The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it.”
Themis dreams of a warm afternoon.
