A Beautiful Day
All good things must come to pass.
Such is as she says and remembers.
Yeul is gone, is no more, is paling ashen and achy. Lingering languid and true (but yes, is gone—
—is gone) gone.
And Noel can only sigh because soon he will be too.
. . .
Today, Noel decides: Is A Beautiful Day. And there will be no contaminations like disasters and a malapropos death turned sly and wry.
In front of him, Yeul smiles as she weaves daisies together into garlands. She sits on her rocky perch with lips curled heavenward and eyes the color of rain-moss.
He fears an unknown calamity creeping steadfast and ferocious. Toward them, it rides, wielding a scythe (a face that he can't discern). But today, he is safe and happy with Yeul. Cloistered in this meadow, they are free. And nothing can touch them.
Not today, this day, that which Is A Beautiful Day.
. . .
Famished and drained and sick-hating of blasé days, Noel thinks of a right and nearly righteous way to slay his elusive prey. Not a banal, trifle path but one that is ingenious and cruel and savage (to be kind to his poor, deteriorating nerves).
Death is a selfish thing, thinks only of its own convenience and petty, dismal comforts.
Like Caius who mysteriously leaves her behind, only to return weeks later. Like Caius who vanishes thin and swathed into the night, wounding both of them.
. . .
"Where is Caius?" she asks.
And he does not answer (what she already knows).
. . .
Yeul tells him to think of forever, but forever is still immaterial—an eloquent thought, a deep meditation.
Forever can happen all too soon and all too real.
With a sad shake of her head, Yeul asks him to bring her to Etro's shrine. Noel submits to her will (he can never refuse). She grows heavier in his arms as they enter the nave.
"Here," Yeul says. "Put me down here."
Her frail, little voice jars him, searing from soul.
Noel stands by she crawls on shaky limbs to the statue of Etro. She makes pathetic attempts to lift herself up and falls each time. Her body has betrayed her, like everything (and everyone) else. He wants to help her, hold and love her until she is released from her troubles (the infinite, invisible ghosts he cannot fathom).
But Yeul's fate is hers alone and so, he can only watch. And mourns as she collides, bruised, into marble.
. . .
On pensive days like this, when the bleeding can't be staunched, Noel wonders why he doesn't resent Caius more.
In a small capacity, the jealousy will always stay with him, but that is expected—tolerated. Yeul and Caius have endured lifetimes together. And even though every Yeul is different (is severed from memories of her previous selves) Caius remains the same.
Silent, stoic and static. Caius the Constant. Valiant, he is the seeress' true protector. He who is unparalleled.
Against whom none can compare—can only dream of competing.
But as Yeul hugs him, Noel dares to believe that perhaps she loves him more. Just this time.
. . .
He listens to her hopes and horrors, of those that happened and those yet to come. Dutiful, Noel lets her spill out her guts and tears in fusillades, made, weighed, packaged and spruced for trade. As she finishes one of her thousands and thousands of anecdotes, Noel begins his.
And stops with a stilted stifle hovering over them.
In blank corpses, in liquid fire, Yeul sees the future. She is shot with pain (he is stabbed) as the vision filters through her veins. This one is not a happy end.
"Yeul?"
"Caius…tell Caius…"
Of course. Caius the Everlasting.
Noel is a fool to think he can match.
. . .
Yeul does not cry. Instead, she dwells in forsaken silence and paints riddles across stone ceilings. Although sometimes, Noel catches a glimpse of her mouth quivering, slight and brief yet definite.
"What's wrong, Yeul? Tell me," tell me please—
"I saw the ancients. The giant ones."
And austere stars and a doom not too distant (not anymore).
"It's okay. I'll protect you. No matter what."
—that you love me, like I've always loved you.
. . .
Today, Noel accidentally sees Yeul with Caius.
Her hand lingers a second too long on Caius' cheek, and her eyes reveal everything. Her kiss is sweet and chaste—a hint, no more. It is a granting of pardon, the fulfillment of a promise from ages ago.
And Noel immediately understands that she is eternally beyond his reach (a wretched curse called heart).
Then sudden, Yeul breaks away from Caius and runs for the meadow. The temple looms large and foreboding behind her, drifting into retreat. She tries to sprint despite her limp. And it is Noel whom she seeks, his name she cries.
And Noel realizes that in this life she can be his. If only for a moment, for a single, insignificant cycle. It is all he needs.
Today, like the day he first meets her, like the day she first calls his name, is a beautiful day.