Surviving Catastrophe
The thing about Kalas, Xelha mused, was that he wasn't just a vengeful soul, he was an incomplete soul.
There's nothing more dangerous than not having all the pieces fit—she would know; she felt that irregularity every day.
It was more than having the weight of the Ice Queens lying upon her; it was having a future completely mapped, a set date for death, a set day for choice.
That is, if she even had one. She rather doubted it.
This existence of hers was just the sad farce of a life that could have been.
Xelha supposed that she was so drawn to Kalas because he was a dark beauty—raging and suffering and hopeless and alone—a tragic story that she wanted so badly to try and fix, and then she wanted so badly to fail.
Because that man-born-of-magnus could be the one unaccounted for variable in her life, and she wanted so badly to rebel that it was almost a physical longing.
Not that anything they could've ever had would've ended in a happily-ever-after, but she was destined to die at 17, so what did that even matter? And Kalas—well, Kalas would never be a part of happiness.
So, Xelha welcomed him into herself, the dark poetry of a life that could have been spared. She welcomed him to a future that'd always been too clear. And he didn't mind because he was just a little too tired of being lonely and risky enough to take this chance.
Maybe it wasn't love. Maybe it could have been.
She didn't really know. Without this (ragingangryheavyspitefulcataclysmic) Ocean inside of her, would she be Xelha? Without Fee's loss and sacrifice, would he be Kalas?
The sad answer was that they would probably not.
It didn't stop her from dreaming at night of a life as a normal girl, or reaching and reaching for something she couldn't identify, but was hopeless to want anyway. On the contrary, it made her wish and reach and want stronger, as if she was valiantly trying to break apart the manacles of responsibility that bore down on her—the weight of a life she'd never wanted.
With him, her unaccounted variable.
And over time, during their journey towards the wicked god Malpercio (I can feel your pain, your sorrow—can you feel mine too?) they connected. Maybe it was something explainable. Maybe it wasn't.
Because instead of a tragedy that inspired the world, theirs was a love that simply broke hearts.
So she took his hand, almost feeling his dark promise, and waited for the skies to rain fire, people to shed blood, and the end of the world to come.
She'd never escape her fate, but maybe, for just one second, she could play pretend.
A/N: I'm replaying Baten Kaitos (again) and got inspired by Xelha's hopelessness. There's something beautiful about her quiet despair.
