Chapter 132
Heaven's Hung in Silver
The town, city, settlement, whatever it used to be, circled the lake in a crescent, sticking mostly to the flatland, with only a few shoddy-looking, building-like formations protruding on the steep mountain 'paths'. Agnes and Sylas did a quick run-through of the entire place without looking too deeply into it, wanting to have a whole picture before the night settled, and outside of the markings they found at the entrance, found no other similar ones.
As the night began to descend, the two walked up to the edge of the lake and pitched a tent. Surprisingly, the air around the lake was fairly warm--so much so that they could do away with blankets entirely. Furthermore, the way the moonlight bled over the lake's calm water was mesmerizing--the silver of the moon cascading like liquid drops of heaven and melding together with the crystal-dyed water of the lake, creating something truly new and unique and spectacular.
Both watched the calm water in silence for a long while, their minds adrift in the cosmic oceans of hollow thoughts. Calmness swept over them, driving away the frustrations that had mounted over the course of what felt to be a fairly pointless day, having discovered little to nothing new or exciting.
Most buildings, after all, looked to have been the same--simple squares of roughly the same size. Some were in a worse state of decay than others, but none were whole. Furthermore, greenery had taken over most of the interiors, and both realized there was a lot of work to be done in clearing them up. They'd be here for a while, but there was a big issue of what they were going to eat and drink.
"This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Agnes said suddenly, her knees pressed together, her arms wrapped around them. "I... I don't even know why. I just know it is."
"Why don't you go in for a dip?" Sylas chuckled.
"... and ruin it?"
"Oh, wow."
"What?"
"I genuinely thought you'd say something like 'right! My beauty would make this even more beautiful!'. I guess... I guess you've grown."
"It's incomparable," he said and stood up, walking to the edge. She was back wearing her dress, and an outburst of gentle wind suddenly fluttered it as she turned around and faced him, fixing her hair. "I feel incomparable."
"..." Sylas drew mute for a moment, his mind blanking. For a brief breath, one that almost nobody notices ever passing, he saw a bleeding canvas of heaven framed in front of his eyes--she stood facing him, a faint smile plastered on her slightly shaded face, while her edges appeared incandescent due to the reflection of moonlight on the lake. The whole world, it seemed, came together at that moment to give him a vision--a vision of paradise. Again, it beat, he realized. No, it never stopped.
"W-what?"
"Hm?"
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Oh, no reason," he smiled and let go of a rancid breath. "Just thinkin' you're selling yourself short."
"What? You really think I'm as beautiful as the lake?" she scoffed, sitting back down. "You're delusional."
"No," he said. "I think you're more beautiful."
"... huh?"
"The lake is still," he continued, ignoring her violent and rapid turn of the head toward him. "It lives in a moment. This one frame that we're seeing is just that--a singular frame. It can't change. It can't grow. It's beautiful, yes. But it's just one picture," he said, facing her shocked expression with a smile. "You, on the other hand, are dynamic. Too dynamic, honestly. Hundreds, thousands of expressions flood your face every day. No matter the surroundings, be they that of a lake from heaven touched by the hands of Gods, or the mountains of hell touched by the hands of devils, you shine and stand out. That's the kind of beauty that's eternal," he added. "Besides, the lake steals the beauty of the world to make itself seem better. You? You are its opposite--you leave a lot of yourself to make other things shine. In my eyes, at least, that's far more beautiful."
"..."
"What? Surprised I have a glib tongue?" he cracked a smile.
"... you're unfair," she said, looking away abruptly. "Mean and unfair, Sylas."
"Both of us are, I suppose," he sighed. "You won't let me be miserable and I won't let you be oblivious."
"I... I am a Maiden of Gods... I..." she mumbled weakly, her convictions seeming to leave her word by word.
"Not here you're not."
"..."
"I'm sorry," he said, realizing he'd crossed a line. "I'll leave 'till morning. Again, sorry." he stood up and started to walk away when he heard her voice.
"You don't have to leave," she said.
"No, I know that," he said. "But if I don't, I feel like I'll do something that I'll regret for the rest of my life."
"What?" she turned and faced him, her cheeks fully flushed.
"I think you know," he smiled. "Who's being unfair now? Anyway, sleep well. Long day ahead," he finished quickly and left.
He went back into the ruins, his mind a flurry of thoughts. The further away from the lake he went, the colder he got; however, he didn't hate it. The cold helped him settle down and clear his mind, however little. Things were getting dangerous, he realized. His willpower was waning day by day, and it was evident she'd break as well if he pushed it.
It wasn't strange, he knew. Beyond just her appearance, she was his only link to consistent reality. Without her to remind him that life is to be lived, that every one of his loops matters, that every memory, in some small way, can become sacred, he'd have become a genuine machine by now. She, in many ways, was keeping him human.
Having that single constant between his deaths was the difference between a life and an existence, he knew. And he'd rather die a thousand times than jeopardize it. And indulging was a surefire way to cull it completely.
He wasn't made for love, not anymore at least, he knew. Thoughts as such swirled as he passed the ruins, entirely disinterested in them. And yet his heart and mind were of the want. What held them back was the guilt, the persistent self-loathing that told him he was entirely unworthy of any sort of kindness. But years spent with her waned those too. The years made the hissing, angry voices in his head silent and timid.
It was dangerous, he knew, the road down which the things were developing. He'd tried steering them elsewhere a few times now, but it was pointless. He'd fallen for her, that much even his dense mind could assert. And though she was mightily struggling to understand her emotions, she'd fallen for him too, he'd realized, her wants and convictions unable to cull the core of humanity.
Sighing, he walked over to one of the ruined walls and sat down, his thoughts still racing.
"Fuck, man," he mumbled, gasping toward the sky. Of all the things he thought he'd feel the first time he 'lived' through the loop, this wasn't one of them. Rather, he fought long and hard not to feel anything, to mechanize himself into an emotionless being driven by a ruthless and cold want of the quest he was given. He was going to raze a Kingdom to raise a King and do so without blinking. And yet, here he was, stuck in the mountains, miles away from the civilization, feeling like a teenage boy stuck in his room, daydreaming about the cute girl sitting by the window that smiled at him twice and he took that as her liking him.
There was a whole life to be lived outside the castle, outside this loop, and all he wanted to do was get lost with her in the mountains, in the forests, in the hills, and in the valleys. He hung his head low and closed his eyes. He'd done it before, and he'll have to do it again, he knew--kill his emotions. Take back the roots that she abducted.
"Hey," a mellow, jittery, uneven voice called out to him and he looked up. There she stood, a few feet from him, the faint light of the moon emboldening her frame.
"... what are you doing here?" he asked.
"You ran away," she replied. Though he saw fear and uncertainty in her eyes as well as her expression, posture, and general gait, she stared forth at him unblinking, her conviction aflame.
"I didn't run away," he said. "I walked off."
"Same thing."
"It's not."
"Why did you run away?"
"... go back, Agnes," he said.
"My name's not Agnes."
"What is it then?"
"Asha," she replied.
"You told me I heard of your name," Sylas said. "But I didn't."
"I didn't say the name," she said. "I said you heard of me."
"When?"
"You'll find out, one day."
"Asha, huh?"
"Yes."
"Why are you telling me your name now?" he asked.
"Because you're no longer just an unfortunate soul I wanted to cheer up," she replied, her lips shaking, though not because of the cold. "You're a man... and I am a woman who finally understands those visions."
"What visions?"
"Where they'd stand in front of certain death to protect someone," she replied. "And die smiling still, knowing the other one would live."
"..."
"I... I don't know anymore, Sylas," her voice cracked slightly, tears coalescing on the corners of her eyes. "I can't make sense of myself. For the first time in my life... I can't hear the Gods. I can't have their help. And yet... look at me. I don't care. Somehow... somehow I feel safer in your arms than theirs. How is that possible? How is it possible that I feel safer here, away from the world, away from them, away from everything, just... just because you're here with me? And then you ran away. And I was left there, alone. And all that beauty that I praised... it became ugly. Sordid. And suddenly... I was cold. The silence was deafening. Suddenly, you weren't there. You weren't with me. And all I could think about... was just finding you. Seeing your face."
"... so, you followed me," he looked away.
"I don't understand anything anymore," she continued. "But I understand one thing. I don't ever want to forget you, or us, or anything we've been through. I'd rather die."
Something took over him suddenly, something primal, deep-rooted in his soul, and he lunged from the wall and toward her, pressing his lips against her. Though she jumped in shock for a moment, she settled down right after, closing her eyes and pushing herself on her tiptoes, as though to be closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her and she returned the favor and the two froze in a moment. Away from the world, away from everything, the hearts of the two sang the song of the forest, and only the invisible spirits of the distant past were there to hear. And they then sang too.