Weight of Worlds

Kirs fiddled with his ring, silver muted and dark in the night. Compared to the band of dull metal on her own hand, this held the weight of a hundred rings. Eventually, she got up. The journey across the hall and into their bed took an effort that should have left her panting.

Cold, lifeless and too big, she couldn’t wrap herself in enough blankets to fill the hole inside her. At some point, staring into the blank wall where he used to be, turned into a restless sleep interrupted by the dawn.

She couldn’t bear to lie in the light. Coming down the stairs, she couldn’t believe what she saw. It was still freshly clean; still organized; it was still their home.

If Ranvir hadn’t knocked on the door at that moment, she might have fallen apart again. Yet, it took an embarrassing effort and time to force herself to open the door. Especially knowing that he could easily perceive her presence.

He took her in with a glance, or perhaps already had. Slept in clothes, messy hair, raw eyes, shaking.

“The house is cold,” he said, sounding worried.

“Do you know where he is?” She felt too weak to put the will required behind her words.

Ranvir nodded.

“Tell me.” More a plead than a command. Goddess, she was pathetic.

Ranvir stared at her, those purple eyes devoid of warmth. He opened his arms, pulling her into a hug. She fought him. She didn’t want his cold comforts and distant apologies. Esmund. She wanted, needed, Esmund. Then she was clutching his shirt and crying again.

Kirs sifted through the different rituals she’d been working on. Tether awakening just required refinement, that wouldn’t do for now. That kind of work didn’t suit her current temperament. She needed something better. Something bigger.

Ranvir’s hypothesis about the singular source of mana. It could fit with the descriptions of first awakening, including her own experience. An implacable vast entity reaching into her and placing the seed for a tether. Seemed like something that could support the entire plane.

Digging into it, she started with the foundation of the ritual she created to find Ranvir’s spatial beacons. The original ritual worked off a sample of his mana, which she didn’t have for the wellspring. However, every single tethered were given part of its power, assuming her theory was correct.

It didn’t work, at least not small scale. Until she remembered that tethered with Concepts could pull their ‘identity’ out of their mana. A quick question later, and she had her proof. A ritual pointing East, beyond the front lines.

She sat back in her chair, watching the ritual. It felt like nothing. There was no reward, no revelation, no satisfaction. All she was left with was the gaping void.

‘You cannot but run from it.’

She slammed her fist on the desk, eyes painfully hot. Sniffling, she searched through her notes with a shaking hand. Riffling through her most recent efforts, she found naught. Pulling up her older folders, she flipped through them until a withered and dried little flower fell out.

The page was blank except for a sloppy scribble in the corner. ‘Happy birthday, my Heart.’

She tore the page and flower apart, standing so hard she toppled her chair. The desk slid across the floor as she attempted to get around it. She needed to get out, get away from here.

If Ranvir would just tell me where he is. She snarled and ripped the curtain aside, nearly running into Kasos. The old man very nearly bowled over before she halted herself.

He looked her over once and stepped aside. She stormed past him, hesitating in the stairwell. Left led to Vednar, right to off-plane. Get away. She took the right set, heading into Korfyi.

The wind tugged on her hair. The temperature rose and moisture heightened. She stumbled through the undergrowth, catching on snarled, branched and nearly falling more than once.

The gateway opened into the forest just outside Eriene, but she rightly tell if she was still going the right direction any longer. The distance rumbled ominously, and the ground shook out from underneath her feet.

Landing hard in the dirt, Kirs gasped for air. There were even tears in her eyes. She didn’t have it in her to cry anymore. Slumping into the dark soil, she hid her face from the forest.

A branch snapped, and brush rustled. Footsteps in the detritus, followed by a grunt of effort.

“Go away.” She snapped.

The person sighed. “Are you certain?” It was Kasos’ voice.

She sneered behind her arms.

“You get used to it.”

She didn’t answer him. Perhaps that would help him catch the hint.

“Living with the regret. Personally, I don’t find it any easier, but you figure out how to continue.”

She remained silent. Forcing him to stop with sheer will. He knew nothing about her. About what she was going through.

“You’re probably thinking: ‘What does he know about regret? He cannot fathom the pain I’m going through.’” He waited a moment, she could almost feeling sneering, smug smile on his wrinkled face. Almost. “But trust me when I say this: Regret is an old man’s game. I’ve had nearly seventy years to make mistakes. I’ve got maybe fifteen left to fix them. If they still can be fixed.”

Kirs found she still had tears left then. She didn’t rise, staring at him defiantly in the eyes. She didn’t challenge his assertions. Rectify his knowledge. She barely rolled onto her side, coughing between sobs.

He sat there, old and withered on a tall root. His face in a smile, crows feet intermingling with the rest of the web on his face. Kindness seemed a well-worn path in the pattern of his face. Yet, he remained sitting there.

“What do you regret?” he asked.

“He left me.”

“Why do you regret that?”

She licked her lips. His old voice, leathery with years and soft with compassion, calmed her.

“I didn’t want him to go.”

Kasos nodded. “May I ask you some harder questions?”

“You may.” Her voice broke. Two words was an effort too big for her.

Kasos licked his lips, his eyes sharpening. A refinement of focus affected his gaze, similar to Ranvir’s, yet without the icy distance that grew into his eyes. “Are you saying that because you ‘have to?’”

She slumped onto the ground, staring up through the canopy of leaves as another quake shook them. “Yes.”

He nodded. “It’s good you say that. May I ask something else instead?”

She sighed and shrugged. “What would you do about it?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you have every element and tool available. Ranvir at your beck and call, the entire coffers of your Queen. What would you do?”

She sniffed and rubbed her tear-stained cheeks. “I’d find him and make him come back.”

“Make him? How would you do that?”

“I’d tell him how much I love him. How badly I wanted him to come back.”

Kasos was quiet for a moment. “Do you think he doesn’t know how much you love him?”

“Obviously not.” She glared at him.

Kasos remained quiet. Was he doubting her? Did he think she didn’t love her husband? Did he think their relationship was fake?

“Can I ask why he left?”

Her heart beat faster at the question. But he’d simply assume she didn’t have a good answer if she didn’t say something. She sniffed and sat up, wiping her face one last time and giving him a defiant look. “There’s a lot of stress for him. Dhaakir was the first time he’s faced an enemy he couldn’t defeat.”

“And so it all boiled over and he had to get away?”

From me. Run away from me. She nodded, tightening her lips to look upon Kasos’ flat expression.

“Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to. I know my husband.”

Kasos nodded slowly, weathered fingers stroking the exposed root. The raspy sound flittered in a breeze. He looked upwards, eyes narrowed as he considering.

“What are you doing?”

He looked down at her. “I’m considering the situation.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you have to regret?”

His eyes opened wider, then nodded. “I fell in love with my best friend’s wife. Then I remained friends with him long after I discovered how twisted he was. When I finally couldn’t take it anymore, I abandoned her with him. Later, I learned they might have been made for each other. She is one of the cruelest people I know, and yet… I’m still in love with her.”

Kirs raised her brows, then turned away.

“It’s not a pretty picture, is it?”

Kirs shook her head.

“Why do you think Esmund couldn’t kill Dhaakir?”

“If he could, he would have. He’s done it before.”

“When?”

“We were attacked by Purists. I’d hidden using rituals, and he killed them all. I didn’t see it.”

“Is that outside of his normal behavior?”

“He changed his powers as much as possible to avoid the potential of slaughter.”

“So then, how did that make him feel?”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure. Relieved that he saved me?”

Kasos lingered in the silence.

“He was frantic when he found me! He was happy that I was alive.”

“And after?”

Kirs threw her hands up. She climbed to her feet and strode about. “What do you want me to say? It was my life they were threatening. I was shook up too.”

“I’m certain you were.”

“But what?”

“But nothing.”

“You think I’m a bad person, don’t you?”

Kasos raised his hands innocently. She breathed sharply, air hissing through her teeth.

“Do you think I couldn’t provide for him? Give him what he needed? What he wanted?”

“What did he want?”

She labored for breath, hissing through her nearly locked jaw. Heat prickled her cheeks and ears. She couldn’t swallow. “Fuck you.”

She stormed back toward the gate, stomping through the low brush. Again, the ground rumbled. He judges me with a heavy hand, considering where he comes from. ‘Still in love with her.’ Kirs knew who he was talking about, of course. Amalia’s grandmother Ione. Who would not attend Amalia’s wedding? Kirs didn’t know them well, but it was a tough story to hide.

She strode back into the ex-school building. Coming down the stairs, she noted the stray eyes gazing at her from their little enclosure. Judging her, no doubt. She returned to her office and felt struck dead in the stomach.

Right on the corner of the desk. A ring of silver and underneath it a simple piece of parchment. Es’ items first found in their unfinished nursery. Her stomach hollowed out until she could barely make it to her chair.

She couldn’t provide for him. Not then and not ever.