Read Student of Kyme Page 16


  ‘And so you tortured me for it.’

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Not intentionally.’

  ‘You lied to save yourself and your safe life. You threw me away.’

  ‘Yes. I did those things. I didn’t want to be…’ He swallowed. ‘I didn’t want to be this isolated creature. I wanted what Jassenah could provide for me. I thought it was right. But then the dehara sent you to tempt me, and I failed. If there was a message, it was telling me that a life of chesnari and harling was not for me, but I wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘It could have been so simple,’ I said. ‘You didn’t have to encourage me, or say those things to me. You could have sent me away. Then everything would have been like it had been. Only you waited until you’d torn me to bits, before you turned your back on me.’

  ‘If I’d sent you away,’ he said, ‘that would only have fed the situation. I felt that I had to let the feelings run their course. I was sure that they would burn themselves out. If you’d left too early, I would have yearned for your presence, and I might have come for you. It seemed better to me to allow the situation to play out in Jesith.’

  ‘That was my heart you were “playing out”,’ I said. ‘My mind.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I know that now. At the time, I was simply too consumed with my own feelings. I was actually scared. It made me act irrationally.’

  ‘In all of that, you forgot me,’ I said. ‘That’s almost funny.’

  ‘When you love somehar, and you really don’t want to, the feelings become twisted,’ he said. ‘You start to resent that har, blame him. It is easier that way.’

  ‘So why did you come here? Was it to finish me off? The final act of resentment?’

  ‘I thought enough time had passed.’

  ‘It would never be enough.’

  Ysobi sighed deeply, closed his eyes briefly. ‘I see that now.’ Then he looked at me again. ‘We can’t be together, Ges. We never could. That is the tragedy.’

  ‘I know.’ I paused. ‘Why say all this to me now? Is it just because you think you are dying?’

  ‘Mainly, yes. I’ve lain here and thought about many things. In the midst of my fevers, I saw you here, and you were kind. I don’t for one moment expect that kindness in reality. You have every reason to resent me as much as I resent you – this inconvenient love!’

  ‘Isn’t part of being har the fact we transcend what our teachers tell us are petty human emotions? How can love ever be inconvenient or wrong?’

  ‘That is for you to find out,’ he said. ‘For me, I am trapped in the past, despite my training, and all that I’ve experienced.’

  ‘Love is not just about possession, though. Are we not free to love, with nothing beyond it?’

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Oh, Gesaril... Gesaril… is there any such thing? Can we love without wanting to possess the object of our affections? It is a madness.’

  ‘All I ever wanted from you was acknowledgement,’ I said. ‘If you had just said the truth to me once, it would have been hard, but I’d have been able to accept it. If you could have told me how you felt but that you’d made the choice to stand by the life you wanted, I would have accepted it in time. What I could not, and cannot, accept is the way you sacrificed me to preserve yourself. You couldn’t let me go, yet you pushed me away constantly, as if I was on an elastic string. You could throw me far away, yet I’d be drawn back inexorably. That does not speak of love to me, however inconvenient, merely selfishness. Do you have any idea what it did to me?’

  ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘You have that right.’

  ‘I don’t really want to any more. I think this is enough.’

  ‘Do you forgive me?’

  ‘No. I could lie, like you do, and say that I have, but I don’t want to do that either. I think perhaps it is too soon. Everyhar would tell me that forgiveness is sacred and in giving it I’d rise above the whole sorry mess, but it’s not what I feel. I’ll never forget you, but I’ll never forgive you either.’ I paused. ‘At least that’s how I feel now.’

  Ysobi turned his head on the pillow, stared out of the window. ‘I don’t blame you for that. Be honest with your feelings, Gesaril. Always.’

  I couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Is that more of your teaching? How can you think you can teach others, when you are so messed up yourself? You are the hienama who hara respect and trust. Hara send their sons to you for tuition. What are you passing on to them?’

  Ysobi turned his head to look at me again and smiled weakly. ‘You might not believe it, but I’ve asked myself that. One thing this has taught me is that I still have a lot to learn. I suppose I must thank you for that.’

  I shook my head. I felt this conversation was pointless. What was done was done. There was still so much to be said, perhaps, but at that time, I hadn’t the heart for it. I stood up. ‘I’m going now. If it’s any comfort, I think you will get better, Ysobi. I think you’ve brought this illness on yourself. Those twisted feelings turned against you. Now you have spoken the truth, now you are free. Return to Jesith and that life you wanted so badly. You are lucky that it is still there waiting for you.’

  ‘What will you do?’ he asked me.

  ‘I have yet to find my safe place,’ I said. ‘And perhaps that’s not what I want, anyway. The universe is immense; I like to think there’s more to our existence than a chesnari and a harling in a cosy little community. But that’s your choice. I wish you best with it.’

  I had been granted what I thought I wanted. I’d said my piece and could walk away with dignity intact. Sometimes, at the end of all conflict, all we can hope for is dignity.

  That night I dreamed of Merim. He came to me and said, ‘What you have bidden is done. The Gallatu have flown, the Mahallatu have ridden upon the winds. We found the truth you sought and cut it free with our weapons.’

  I thanked him. ‘You are free to go now, Merim. Your work is done.’

  He hesitated. ‘There is only one last thing. I have this for you.’

  He brought forth from a pocket of his jacket a slim object wrapped in dark silk. I took it and unwrapped it. I held a beautiful severed hand, the wrist delicate, the fingers long, tapered and artistic. It was Ysobi’s hand. ‘I cannot take this,’ I said.

  Merim shrugged. ‘It is supposed to come to you. That’s all I know. My obligations are complete.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘What you choose to do with it is your choice alone.’ He bowed to me. ‘Farewell, Gesaril har Kyme. May be the dehara be with you upon your path.’

  When he was gone, I stared at the hand. It was warm, supple, as if alive. I held the wrist to my lips and kissed it, in the place where the skin is thinnest.

  In my dreamscape, I climbed a grassy mountain that overlooked a valley where there was a lake. The sun was beginning to rise above the peaks in the east. I held Ysobi’s hand high, as if it were an extension of myself, reaching for the heavens. Then I hurled it from me, into the lake far below.

  In the morning, before Huriel was awake, I went to see Iscane at his apartment, and told him everything. We sat in his dining area, and he listened without commenting. At the end of it, he pulled me to him and held me close. The contact made me weep. For some minutes, we sat like that as I let the feelings pour out of me. Was I cleansed?

  ‘One thing concerns me,’ Iscane said. He pushed me away from him, but held on to my shoulders. ‘Even though you threw the hand away, the lake where it lies is yours, deep within you. I think perhaps – not yet, but in time – you must retrieve it and give it back to Ysobi.’

  I nodded. ‘It is all that I have left of him, but yes, you’re right.’ I sighed. ‘This has been a hard lesson, Iscane. I wondered why it happened to me, why so many bad things happened to me. I still don’t really know. But one thing I do know for sure is that I can never live a lie. I can never retreat from life into what is safe and secure, scorning anything that is dangerous, adventurous or… alive. I could have done that with Malakess too. He
could have been my Jassenah.’

  ‘Don’t write to Jassenah again,’ Iscane said.

  ‘I won’t.’ I paused. ‘He’ll be on his way here...’

  ‘To take Ysobi away,’ Iscane said. ‘Don’t think of it...’ He took hold of my hands, shook them a little. ‘I think… we need to plan some adventures. As you’ve said, the world lies before us. There is so much to discover. If you’re going to write to anyhar, I suggest it’s your friend, Sabarah. We could go to Immanion, if only for a short while, and see what we find there.’

  I nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll do it today.’

  By the time I returned home, Huriel had already gone back up to the Ivy House. I had no doubt that he would find Ysobi greatly improved. Soon, Jassenah would arrive in Kyme, or maybe they would send Ysobi back to Jesith before that. Perhaps the two of them would meet half way on the road. As Jassenah threw himself against the har he loved, would Ysobi hesitate for just a moment before returning the embrace? I would never know. And as Iscane would have advised, there was no point wondering about it.

  I went to the library and began to compose a letter to Sabarah. Chrysm had also once said I should go to Immanion. I carefully suggested to Sabarah that he should speak to Chrysm about it; see if there was some job, if only temporary, that Iscane and I could do. I didn’t want to go alone. The whole idea was too overwhelming. But going to Immanion with Iscane appealed to me. We’d have each other, just as friends. We could do whatever we wanted to do.

  Once I’d written the letter, I sat and stared out of the window. Had I really cut myself free from Ysobi? If so, I knew it wouldn’t be an instant recovery for me, but at least, whatever happened, I was sure a road of healing lay ahead. The gate to the shining path had opened for me. I was no longer pressed up against the unyielding slats, yearning to pass through.

  Was that the end of it? Who can tell? I have been in Immanion for a few years now, and part of me still hopes to see that tall shape in a crowd. In my dreams, Ysobi is free – of his ties, of his own weaknesses - and comes to me. I never did give his hand back to him. I am sure that for some reason, we were meant to meet, but the circumstances and timing were all wrong. I still wonder why it happened to me, or how I could have let it happen to me, when for so much of the time I was fully aware of the folly and toxicity of the situation. The lessons of life are harsh, and sometimes their meaning is not clear for many years.

  Two days ago, I was walking in the Lionstar Park, in western Immanion. I go there often to think, although nowadays my thoughts are mostly about my work – the creative projects that Chrysm has appointed me to oversee. It was early in the morning, before breakfast, and a mist from the sea hugged the grass. I came to the central lake, which is surrounded by raised ornamental rocks, where benches have been set, so that hara can rest there to watch the black swans that glide across the water. Somehar sat alone upon one of the benches. At the sight of this figure, I was momentarily annoyed, since I wanted to be alone, but as I drew nearer I saw that it was somehar I knew. Or rather, who I thought I knew. He was gazing upon the misty water, his chin upon his hands, his elbows resting upon his knees. My Nagini spirit. I paused upon the path and held my breath, sure that too strong an exhalation would somehow make him evaporate. But then, clearly sensing my presence, he turned his head towards me. The har was of the Nagini, it was clear, but perhaps I didn’t know him at all.

  I was compelled to speak. ‘Were you in Kyme once, tiahaar?’

  The har smiled at me. ‘Some time ago. Were you?’

  ‘I was there, yes. Forgive my intrusion, but you appeared familiar to me. I knew a har named Haruah...’

  ‘My hostling,’ said the har. ‘What a coincidence.’

  ‘Yes... Did we not meet there? I am Gesaril.’

  The har frowned. ‘I don’t believe so. I didn’t meet many hara. I was studying. I didn’t stay there long.’

  I nodded. ‘My mistake. I felt I knew you.’

  ‘I look like my hostling. It’s most likely that.’

  ‘Most likely.’ He did not appear to want to continue the conversation, so reluctantly I began to walk away.

  ‘I’ll convey your regards,’ he said.

  I paused again, turned. ‘To your hostling?’

  He smiled widely, revealing perfect white teeth. ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Thank you. He once advised me well.’

  The har nodded. ‘I am Lakshmi. Perhaps we will meet again.’

  ‘I would like that.’

  ‘May Nagarana shine upon your day.’

  I bowed my head. ‘Upon yours also.’

  As I walked away, a soft voice came to me in mind touch. You can curse a har only so far as he wishes to be cursed.

  I turned again swiftly, but the bench was empty.

 


 

  Storm Constantine, Student of Kyme

 


 

 
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