Chapter 6

Paris, February 2008

The cold icy rain pelted the windows of her room. Alisaunne groaned at the thought of walking home without benefit of umbrella. She'd worn her heavy woolen coat today because of the temperature… and had not grabbed the umbrella… thinking that it would be snow that would fall. She had always loved the snow!

Rubbing her cold fingers in the momentary chill, she concentrated on the essay before her. Although most of her graduate level es were hands-on work… this one was a seemingly unending set of essays and essay tests as if this professor wished to learn all that she knew on the subject of the Gallic Campaigns of Caesar. Trouble was… Alisaunne knew quite a bit… Thus her essays often seemed to take forever to write.

Glancing up at the clock… she noted there was only a minute or so left in the period. Swiftly she continued to read over her essay… attempting to catch what errors she could.

"Time!" snapped Professor Longchamps. His pince-nez sat on the base of his aquiline nose. On his nearly bald head… the white wisps of his remaining hair seemed unkempt and wild about his florid round face. Holding his chubby hands behind his back… he rose on his toes and then backed down over and over as his noisily turned in their essays.

Regretfully… and wishing she'd had five more minutes to finish proofing her paper… Alisaunne passed hers up.

Once he'd collected the papers… Longchamps dismissed them all with a curt nod.

"Honestly!" Friedrich said as he and Alisaunne walked out together, "I think that man was born old and has no memory of what it was like to be young." He laughed… and Alisaunne laughed with him… although in truth… she found the old man endearing.

"Perhaps he was there… in the Gallic Wars," Solange added, catching up to slip her arm proprietarily into Friedrich's.

Alisaunne laughed at the idea. "Oh… that would make him how old? What… about two thousand? Can you imagine?"

The three of them laughed companionably as they tripped down the wide staircase among the other students.

"Oui…" Friederich snorted. "He looks as if he could be so old!"

Once more the three friends laughed at the shared image of a two-thousand year old man calmly teaching history… and the utter foolishness of the image.

Alisaunne sobered as she saw Ian waiting for her at the doors to the building. Her umbrella was in his hands. They'd had quite a row last night and he'd walked out… leaving her alone.

Squaring her shoulders, she hesitantly walked toward him. Beside her, Friedrich and Solange had fallen silent.

"I noticed you'd left this behind… and that with this weather… you might need it." Ian held the umbrella out to her.

Alisaunne gritted her teeth and shifted her weight… not certain she trusted her voice or her words… not wanting to say anything else that might hurt him as she'd evidently hurt him last night.

Friedrich and Solange cleared their throats and then made excuses as they moved off. Her friends had become increasingly aware of Ian's and her contentious relationship. Obviously they wished to give them space to say whatever they needed to say.

Alisaunne finally took the offered umbrella. "Thanks," she managed. "Nice of you to bring it." It was too much… Her tone betrayed how angry with him she still was. She bit her tongue. Why wouldn't he tell her whatever it was he was keeping a secret?

"I was moving my things out… when I saw it… I didn't want you to catch your death of cold."

Alisaunne heard only sincerity in Ian's voice… sincerity and care. "I'm sorry… the essay test was… trying," she finally managed.

Ian nodded. "And my leaving last night didn't help. Alisaunne…" he paused, "I don't want there to be hard feelings. I still care for you… but I have to go… It's time."

"Why? Why is it time? Explain things to me!" Around her several passing students stared… then looked hurriedly away.

"You must live your life. You can't always be hanging on to the likes of me. I'm only a simple boy with simple wants and desires. I'll never be anything else. Not like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ian shuffled his feet and looked around. "Nothing… except… You're a smart girl Alisaunne de Pres. You're gonna be a professor yourself and teach others. Not me… a coal miner's son I was raised and that I'll always be." With that he pivoted, turning his coat collar up and headed out into the cold rain.

"Ian…" But Alisaunne's word went unheeded… her call unanswered. Tears filled her eyes. For a moment she considered racing after him… but she had done that almost three years ago and convinced him to stay. Perhaps it was time for him to go. He seemed to be immune to growing older… with her.

Slowly Alisaunne buttoned her coat and headed out the door… putting up the umbrella against the falling icy rain. She bent slightly into the wind as she moved through the crowd and out into the commons area. Feeling the hot tears on her cheeks seem to freeze in the bite of the wind… only stiffened her resolve. "Ian Daffyd! You are not the only one who can be stubborn. I will not run after you like some silly school girl. Go then… and good riddance!" she whispered silently. But in her heart… she didn't mean it. Turning… she headed for her rooms on the far side of the campus.

Ian wanted to turn back. He'd relented the last time he'd left… and returned to her. But not this time. Alisaunne needed to move on with her life… he needed to let her. This time… he would not let his love for her draw him back. At the far side of the commons he glanced back through the rain and saw her head for home. The immortal nodded. By staying longer than he should have… he'd only made it worse. Now she would hate him… but at least… she'd have that chance for a normal life.

Sadly the immortal young man began to make his way toward the docks. MacLeod was out of town these days… likely he was off to visit Amanda or one of his other lady friends in some part of the globe. He'd given Ian the keys and told him the barge was his if he needed it. Even Mac had agreed it was long past the time for Ian to move on. Ian would keep watch from a distance until Mac returned… and then he'd leave. Perhaps he'd travel to America. He'd never been there. Mac had said it was nice there.

The icy rain chilled him through his thin jacket and beneath his peaked cap. Ian stuffed his hands deeply into his trousers and bent his head against the wind. The rain only served to amplify his despair.

By the time Alisaunne reached the curb… the wind had picked up to an almost gale force and she was struggling with the umbrella and her book bag. Taking her anger out on the worthless piece of technology as it billowed and buckled in the wind… Alisaunne stepped into the street. Only the squeal of brakes made her look up. Already it was too late.

She felt the all too solid hit of the car as it rammed into her. For one moment… she seemed to fly through the air… out-distancing the pain she knew would surely follow. Then all came crashing down. She crumpled onto the icy pavement and the pain of the moment rose about her in waves of torment.

Even as she seemed to see others crowd around her as from a far distance… to see their mouths move… and to hear nothing… the blackness rose. And within the blackness… the skin on her arms and chest burned… and she could hear the cackle of Nestor's voice as from some nightmare, "At last…"