This rage that lasts a thousand years
Will soon be done
The waiting seems eternity
The day will dawn of sanity
Is this a kind of magic?
Chapter 37: The Flame Inside
"So you did recognise me."
"In what context?"
Amanda could almost see the twinkle in his eyes. She laughed softly, delighted at his joke, "At the terminal, on Earth, of course."
"Indeed."
She wrinkled her nose at him, "Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"
"I have the benefit of an accurate and vivid recall, Miss Grayson."
"Then why didn't you acknowledge me? Show some sign…"
"One must use one's resources in the most effective manner."
Several pieces of the puzzle abruptly slotted into place, "Is that why you chose Mike to meet me on Space Central? You were studying me! Us!"
"You have been under observation since that first encounter, Amanda. But essentially, you are correct. It was only logical to analyse your reaction... and that of Gorsky. I am considering him, with Miss Kaladin and Miss Ghoshal, as members of my diplomatic personnel. As you may appreciate I require associates of the utmost reliability and integrity."
Amanda shook her head, partly amused, partly chagrined, "I appreciate that you wanted to be sure of me - especially if T'Pau really accepts that you and I are the reincarnated spirits of T'Piony and Anarchya! But I've yet to hear what you consider true, Kula'at!"
His profile as he gazed over the lake displayed a pride that was unyielding. Despite his youthful appearance, the marks of his austere upbringing had already etched his features. He would always transmute the vulnerability of love, the passion of joy into the clarity of absolute reason. Long ago, in early childhood he had learned never to cry, not even within his private self. He had trained in techniques that helped him withstand weariness, or grief, or pain. Logic would always over-rule emotion. If he was the transformed soul of T'Piony's daemon lover, he was a far more sophisticated version.
"All life is One according to a'Tha's creed, Amanda. Similar philosophies exist on your world, I understand. Is it not part of the teachings of, for example, Buddhism and Hinduism? There were also Christian heresies - such as the Cathars, among others. Even the ancient Egyptians and Greeks…Plato's Myth of Erdescribes souls judged immediately after death and sent either to the heavens for a reward or underground for punishment. After their respective judgments have been enjoyed or suffered, the souls transmigrate."
"You're very learned on Earth history and religions, Sarek. But I'm not T'Piony…I'm not Vulcan." There was defiance in her tone as well as a subtle challenge.
He agreed with an inclination of his head," Whatever the belief of others, we can only live the life given to us as individuals. You are, and will always be, Amanda Carynese Grayson, Earth-woman - as I am Sarek, ansh'oine au t'skon s'kahri T'Phra. That will not change."
Mollified, feet planted a little more firmly on solid ground, she reflected, "So, Where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?"
Keen eyes searched her face. The lines either side of his mouth deepened as his lips faintly stretched in that odd suggestion of a smile.
An eyebrow flicked upward, "Is that not a question for a'Tha? We are what we are, but perhaps… it would not be too illogical… if we both allowed a tiny flame of who they were burn within us."
He stepped closer and Amanda felt electricity arc between them. "Before I went to Earth, T'Pau implied that my destiny was sealed. Even if she was mistaken, and resistance was possible, I believe you would still be my choice, Amanda Carynese Grayson."
"Your choice?" Her heart soared abruptly with excitement and yet an image burned in her memory of Sarek as a child climbing Seleya's Steps with T'Reah at his side. "You mean as another member of your diplomatic staff?"
"Obduracy does you no credit, Miss Grayson." A bright mockery invaded his stare. He was close now, so close his cinnamon scented breath fanned her cheek, "I require you as my non-diplomatic wife."
"Aren't you already married… to Sybok's mother, T'Reah." There, it was out in the open. Amanda's hands, palms flat on his chest, held him at bay. Her eyes sparked with blue fire while the blood pounded between her temples at her own audacity.
He held her gaze. Somehow, his arms had managed to encircle her waist, one hand in the small of her back. "A…most painful mistake. We annulled our bond before Sybok's birth with the intervention of a skilled reldai. T'Reah is now Kolinahru, an Adept of Gol. She has renounced all ties and emotional associations."
Amanda searched his face, and received a frank and open appraisal that was hauntingly familiar. The arms around her were tight but she hardly noticed. "And have you done the same, Kula'at Sarek?"
"Indeed, I have."
"If I returned to Earth, would you find it painful to let me go, S'haile?"
His impressive brows drew together, "Is that what you intend to do?"
She raised her hand to brush at the wayward hair that curled upon his brow, trailed fingers across his temple spreading them wide until she encompassed his katra points. Sarek followed her example until they linked mind to mind.
Her soul converged with his across time and space: I will never leave thee, my t'hy'la, S'haile, Anarchya…
And I will never let thee go, Ha'lei'ha. I have waited far too long to find thee…Even death shall not part us now.
The End
A kind of magic
One dream one soul one prize one goal
One golden glance of what should be
It's a kind of magic
One shaft of light that shows the way
No mortal man can win this day
It's a kind of magic
The bell that rings inside your mind
Is challenging the doors of time
It's a kind of magic
The waiting seems eternity
The day will dawn of sanity
Is this a kind of magic?
There can be only one
This rage that lasts a thousand years
Will soon be done
This flame that burns inside of me
I'm hearing secret harmonies
It's a kind of magic
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