"Clairvoyant Naya, what do you say about accompanying me on a nice stroll?"
"Sure," Naya positively receives his invitation.
The two elves, man and woman, find companionship with one another. They tread the hanging bridges with slow steps savoring the sights before them. The luscious green leaves among trees. The boisterous happenings of the elves below them. The coming and going of elves in similar hanging bridges.
All of it is too mundane, this sightseeing, and the stroll, it all seems just right. The two of them are at peace. No war, blood, cries of death and sorrow. This must be paradise. However, for some reason, Trudviar comes to realize he rejects this paradise.
It is not complete. It is lacking something. Perhaps an awake King. Maybe there is a need for more elves. No, it isn't like that… For it to be complete, they must discard something… They must discard the humans, a rather dangerous thought, yet it all makes sense.
Trudviar depreciatingly laughs to himself.
"What is it?" Hearing the elf's downtrodden laughter, Naya directs her attention to him. "Are you… in pain?" She asks.
Trudviar shakes his head. "I am hurting, but I am not in pain."
"What does that mean?" Naya doesn't understand, after all, she is not Trudviar.
"I call it enduring." Trudviar confidently says to her as if it is a glorious thing to do.
"Why not the other way around?"
To her question, Trudviar resorts to silence as he finds himself in the trappings of reason. Why is it, not the other way around? Perhaps, he is actually in pain but is not hurting. In that sense, instead of enduring, he is actually hiding and faking it. If he follows that line of thought, that makes him pathetic and miserable.
"Maybe you are right… Maybe it is the other way around…" Trudviar whispers. "Are you hurting? Or in pain? Which is it?" He asks Naya. There is no way she is 'neither'.
To his curiosity, Naya simply shrugs. "I don't know."
She doesn't know.
That doesn't make sense either.
"Clairvoyant Naya—"
"Please call me just Naya instead…"
"Naya, what do you mean you don't know?"
"…"
In her silence, she contemplates an answer. Naya delves into the webbings of her thoughts thinking of an answer that is truly hers, and not from the influence of others. With a benevolent smile, she reveals what it is that drives her.
"It is because 'I don't know' that I can move on…"
Trudviar idly listens to her as she reveals string after string of the philosophical will that propels her to advance and not looks behind. In Trudviar's eyes, Naya looks like more of a hardened soldier than him.
Naya rambles on, finding Trudviar's companionship as favorable and… fun… in the sense that she is not so lonely after all despite losing her village, her daughter, and a lot of things.
"Am I in pain? Am I hurting? Does that really matter?"
"The truth is I am alive. Rather than enduring, I prefer forgetting…"
"Time heals all wounds, and even the pain and hurting will someday go away…"
"Maybe I am in pain, and hurting… But I cannot tell. After all, I don't know."
"Am I happy? It is sad, but I find it hard to be happy. Still, I move on."
"It is not because I am searching for happiness, but seeking closure."
"Only by moving on can I go through all of the hurt and pain again despite purposefully forgetting it."
"And in this way, I hope that someday, there will be a conclusion to this suffering."
"We can choose not to feel hurt and pain, but we cannot avoid suffering."
"I am suffering, it is true. And maybe… maybe…
"The only way for me out is to endure it, but no… I don't believe that…"
"I won't give in either to the suffering… I will embrace it…"
"And with time and help from others, I will heal."
The process of healing. Trudviar realizes that he is only abusing himself by throwing himself to work so aimlessly to the bone. Not even redemption can save him in a world of hurt. Such is his workaholic nature— a futile act of redemption.
Naya becomes conscious of her too much rambling and awkwardly coughs.
"Ahem," Naya awkwardly puts her fist on her mouth faking a cough. "It looks like it is almost night already…"
Dusk is upon them.
Trudviar looks above and gazes at the dark sky with little almost indiscernible twinkling stars. He feels the roll of parchment hiding inside his clothes and feels the temptation of work once more.
"Do you want to have tea at my place?" Naya asks Trudviar with an innocent face.
No longer with the temptation of work on his mind, Trudviar nods to Naya's invitation. "Let's go."
In Naya's tree house of relatively stylish furniture, and all sorts of files everywhere, the two elves set up a table for them to drink their tea. They share their stories. They laugh. They talk. The spectacle of the two elves creates a harmonious melody around them. The stories are like lyrics to a song. The laughter is like the sound of the ensemble. And their talk is like the exchanges of the sweetest of ballads.
"Your daughter, Zeraya is quite a feisty woman! He always beat up the King when they are training! Ah~! The sight of Art running away from her is a very enjoyable sight…"
"Ha ha ha… I wish I could have seen that… To think that my daughter is so treasonous!"
"Zeraya is full of suspicion back then. She always remains by his majesty's side, and while it might seem out of loyalty as a bodyguard, I can tell she is sneakily watching over him. Yet, in the end, she ends up the bravest and most loyal of us all… I underestimated her conviction…"
"Yes, Zeraya is such a girl. She will even go as far as quarreling with a bunch of demi-humans who are bullying a weak human orphan child. The same is also true the other way around, but that daughter of mine… She really is a troublemaker, I tell you! Ha ha ha!"
"Ha ha ha! I can tell! Do you know, before even the attack at the Urden County, she dared to scheme against his majesty even going as far as to collude with me and Varen to kidnap Art and force him to return to the Lorekleim Forest? So stubborn!"
"Yes, she is such a lovely girl. So strong, so independent!"
"Yes, it is Art's fortune to receive her… affection…"
The once usually sad tales are like the most joyous stories as the two of them continue to talk until midnight. Only when they finish drinking their tea for the nth time did they realize that it is already night.
Trudviar laments in amazement at how time can fly so fast.
Naya is similarly reluctant to the inevitable parting.
"I guess this is it…" Naya smiles at her now-close companion.
"Yes, this is it…" Trudviar's lips remain down crest, but his eyes are smiling. They are full of light unlike before. The once gloomy and imperceptibly dull eyes are no longer there.
"So, would you like to have tea tomorrow?" Naya continues smiling despite feeling a pang of regret at the thought of Trudviar leaving.
"No," Trudviar answers cutting Naya's hopes short. "I will be staying." To this, Naya's ears perk up.
"Why?" Naya plainly asks, but she already knows the answer. However, the expected answer didn't come.
"I don't know." Trudviar honestly gives his answer.
He doesn't know. Emotions toward elves are very inscrutable and hard to understand. They are very dull beings. But there are some instances when such dullness becomes their strength.
Trudviar maintains eye contact with Naya and confesses his feelings. "As to why? I really don't know. If I am to take a wild guess, I think I have fallen in love with you."
"A wild guess?" Naya laughs at Trudviar's clumsy excuse. "Fine, I will take it."
"Why?" Trudviar throws back the same question that Naya did.
To this, Naya playfully answers. "Hmmm… Well, I feel that if I reject you, I will feel bad for you." With a sly grin, she intimately advances closing her distance to Trudviar. "Moreover, I feel that my Clairvoyant Insights are telling me I will not regret a thing…" She adds.
Trudviar aware of the direction where is this going reciprocates Naya's bold actions as he furthers the intimate distance between them to zero.
Their lips touch, and from there, the budding relationship of the Clairvoyant and General takes root in the 'paradise' they can call their own. There is no better paradise than here.