Kassra has some important things to say in this chapter, but will Gol listen?

Chapter 44: The Cost of Perfection

Gol awoke to the same old thing, and once he began to sort out what was reality and what was mere dreams, he tried to retreat further into his bed in an effort to return to his slumber, where it didn't matter so much if unpleasant things happened because, at least you'd wake up from them eventually. But, sleep didn't come, and he had to sit up when the liquid filling his lungs became too much. He hacked and coughed until he could somewhat breathe again and sat wheezing on the bed with one hand clutched to his chest, the events that took place over the last couple of days becoming clear again, as he remembered that today, just like yesterday, he wouldn't be able to greet his sister or eat lunch with her or fight with her over whatever nonsense she chose to become angry about. It was just him now.

Even with the woman in another room, it was still just him. Once she left, he would be alone in this enormous place, too big for two people, and even more ridiculous for one. He kept thinking he heard her, his dear sister, singing in the distance, but it was a sound he could never reach, no matter how hard he tried. It was difficult enough to locate a noise in the echoing hallways of this place, but finding a noise he knew wasn't even there was impossible, of course, and yet he looked anyway.

And sometimes, the sound really did seem real. There was no doubt about it. He would listen, and he would make his way towards it, the sound not seeming to change where it was coming from like the phantom noises would, but then it would turn out to be the woman. It was just her, and it was almost like she was trying to fill the void his dear sister had left, and she couldn't. She would never be able to replace Maia. And there were times he almost wanted to take hold of her, to choke the life out of her so there would be nothing left here, no Maia and no Maia-replacement, but of course, he couldn't. He couldn't do that, to kill the last living thing here that wasn't him and wasn't his servants or those stupid plants in his room.

And so he pulled his legs up on the bed and wrapped his arms around them to just sit there and think, or try not to think, as no matter how much he tried to avoid it, his thoughts always turned to painful things. And after some time of this, he found that sitting quietly was likely the worst thing one could do at a time like this, as he was alone with thoughts he didn't want to acknowledge. A distraction would be a much better bet if he intended to think of something else, to try, if even for a second, to forget that things had gone so horribly wrong.

Gol stood, with some effort, his body stiff, and began to make his way to the door, looking back once at the pearl on the dresser before taking a short detour to put it in his pocket. He then left the room, his first stop being the lab, where he had found the woman last, but she was not here, and the pile of wood shavings had since been cleaned up, the figurine she was carving absent, as well. The library, as it always seemed to be, was his next destination, and here he found her, standing at a table, still in the midst of organizing the mess he had made, attempting to make order out of a pile she had accumulated on the table, sorting it into various smaller piles, no doubt based on the varying degrees of damage the books had sustained.

She had her back to him, and he came in, his footsteps feeling too loud as he drew nearer, wondering if enough time had gone by since he had been cross with her. Even though she was the one who came here, not him, and had spouted absurd things.

He stopped a short distance behind her, the sunlight shining through the skylight above signifying it was already midday. It was too bright in here, and he became strangely aware of the dust hanging in the motes of light, but maybe he was procrastinating. He opened his mouth, but it took a few moments to find the words. He settled with, "You know you really don't have to do this."

"I know," she said. She didn't sound upset. And why should she be? She came here.

His eyes went to her hands and the senseless sorting. What did it really matter if this room was organized or not? What did any of those small details matter? All he wanted was for Maia to return, but that wasn't going to happen, and it certainly wasn't going to bother him at this point if this library, someone else's library, consisting of someone else's books, was cleaned up. In the past, he would have cared about such pointless things, but not now. He had much more important things to fret over now.

He came forward to stand beside her. "Stop," he said, but she didn't, and he grabbed her wrist, the only thing that stilled her hands, and she looked over at him. "Stop. The world that you know will soon be no more. Does it really matter if this mess ever gets cleaned up?"

"Maybe not." Her usual smile returned. "But, even when bad things happen, you can't forget that you still need to go on living, y'know.'

A memory floated back into his mind, of when he had lived with her for a month in a house that spoke nothing of the destruction that had gone on outside, a destruction that, even though it took place years ago, had never been fixed. Yet, despite this, he had no clue that such a thing had even occurred, not until he had finally gone outside and seen it, nor did he have any idea until then that this woman had lost her family, as well, even if her loss had happened longer ago than his. But, was this really the same thing? He had no use for this library any longer anyway. He didn't need it or anything else but the bomb he had left incomplete deep in the citadel, which was the next step in transforming this miserable world once and for all. It was what Maia and he had worked so hard for, and he couldn't let her down. The state of this library had no bearing on his plans. It was inconsequential. As most things were, he was realizing.

"If you really don't want me to clean the library, then I won't."

He looked over to see that he still had a grip on her wrist, and he released her, but she continued to watch him.

"Are you okay?" she said.

"I'm exactly as you'd expect me to be." He turned away, crossing his arms. The library was certainly in better shape than it was when he had last seen it, but it was still wasted effort. Those books deserved it, really. Not one gave mention of his dear sister and him or of the positive properties of Dark Eco. Not one. It was a waste of a room. He turned his head halfway as he directed a question of his own at her. "What was that you were carving?"

"Didn't I already tell you?"

"You said it was a secret."

"Yep, pretty much."

Gol turned to face her again, fingers gripping his crossed arms, and he narrowed his eyes at the cheerful expression he always seemed to catch her in. "What are you always smiling about?"

"What are you always so grumpy about?"

"Answer my question."

"Do I need a reason to be happy?"

"Yes, you do." What was there to be happy about? Forgetting his own troubles, she had no family to call her own, and her city was soon to be under attack. Maybe she wasn't fully aware of that last part, but she had to know her world was in danger. Couldn't she comprehend that? There was nothing to be happy about. Nothing. "Give me one good reason, then. One." He held up a single finger, his other hand still clutching his arm.

Without taking a moment to think it over, she answered, "Well, I'm alive, aren't I?"

"That's not a reason to be happy. I'm alive, as well, and you claim that I'm always grumpy."

"There's not much I can do about that." She crossed her own arms, and he couldn't help but think she was mimicking him, and he forced his arms to his sides, daring her to do the same. She didn't. At least, not yet.

"Give me another reason," he said.

"I get to see you again."

"Now why in the world would that make you happy?" She was just toying with him at this point. He was stuck with himself all the time, and he was often not happy about it. "Do you not understand what's been going on?" He began to make his way towards her, gesturing with an intensity that simply had to get across to her the seriousness of what he was saying, even with the thick skull she obviously possessed. "Who do you think attacked Haven City? Who do you think flooded it with Dark Eco? Hmm?" He stopped right before her, bending over slightly so their faces lined up better and so that he could analyze more easily her expression, one that finally didn't include one of her seemingly obligatory smiles.

"It was you. You and your sister."

"That's right. And so…"

"But, you weren't always like this?"

He stood up straighter. "Always like what?"

She frowned at him, and he realized that, even more than the smile, he didn't like it.

"Like this," she repeated.

"You'll have to be more specific." The Sage's voice was low, and while they stood too close, neither budged.

She took a deep breath, then, continued, "You used to be different. You both were. The person you were long ago wouldn't have hurt anyone, would they?"

He stared at her. Where did she hear such things? And it wasn't like that. They were forced to do what they did. The world deserved it, for mistreating them and for hating Dark Eco when it could do so much more good for them than bad. His sister and he could have done so much good if it had been allowed. But, it wasn't, and now they had no choice but to force Dark Eco upon the world.

"Who told you this nonsense?"

She turned to walk away from him, her hand trailing on the tabletop beside her. "Another Sage. The Green Sage. He—"

"Samos," he said under his breath. "That old fool is still alive?" It seemed that absolutely everyone had survived the last three hundred years. His parents were probably still alive somehow, too.

She stopped and turned back to him. "Yeah, I spoke to him."

"That was a rhetorical question." Or was it? There could be another Green Sage. But, only one Green Sage knew Maia and him three hundred years ago. They had been civil once, long ago, despite that fool's insistence that Dark Eco was dangerous and would eventually drive them mad. That was one thing they never saw eye to eye on. But, Samos had it all wrong. He did not change. He just had to change his methods.

When he failed to leave his own thoughts, the woman spoke again. "He said that you were different people a long time ago. He said that you were better people—"

"He was wrong."

"You weren't better?"

"No, I'm better now."

"You kill people now."

He paused. It wasn't that simple. It wasn't. "They gave me no choice."

"Why? What did they do?"

"That is none of your business!" he said. "Stop with these pointless questions!"

"If you have a good reason, then tell me what it is."

He growled. He may have a good reason, but not one anyone would accept. "You're testing my patience, girl."

She crossed her arms again. "If there's a good reason for what you're doing, then I want to hear it. Otherwise, listen to me for a moment. You would never have hurt someone before, and neither would your sister."

"You know nothing of my sister."

"So you're trying to convince me that the two of you would have hurt people, even back then?"

He opened his mouth, then, closed it. What was with her and her questions? "That's not what—"

"Then, what are you saying?"

"Excuse me for not expecting a quiz today! Next time I'll be sure to have studied!"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say, as her face cracked with a new smile, and he thought she stifled a giggle. He frowned at her. She knew very well the kinds of things he was capable of by now, and yet she still couldn't take him seriously. Maybe he needed to maim her just a little to prove a point.

Before he could say anymore, something that would stop her from thinking she had the upper hand in the conversation, she was upon him, grabbing at his sleeve and coat.

"Just stop, 'kay? I don't know why you're doing what you're doing, but stop. Don't hurt anymore people. That's not who you are. That's not who you were."

He grabbed her arms to pry her loose, but she held on tight. "Get off me!"

"This is not the person you once were. The Green Sage said you were stubborn, but not evil!"

"He's a senile, old fool!" And he was not evil! He was perfectly kind to people until he realized how futile it was. He wasn't going to beg them to accept him and his research.

"But, I believe him!"

"That's your problem!" Why wouldn't she let go? He took hold of her hands, tightening his grip on them as he tried to force her to release him, but she only winced and held on tighter.

"There's still time to stop." She was looking up at him, with wide, desperate eyes. She was close, much too close. "You're not evil! Not really, so don't act like it!"

He growled at her, and with an increase in strength, he pulled one of her hands away even as it tried to clutch at the fabric of his coat, while her other hand held on even tighter than before. She was a fool, to come here and think she could convince him to abandon the plans his sister and he had devised centuries ago. As if he would simply give up, just like that.

She struggled, jerking the arm he held away from him, but she was unable to pull it free. However she thought that this display would serve to persuade him to her way of thinking, he had no idea. All the while, her eyes remained locked on his. He couldn't stand to look at them any longer, and she wouldn't back down, no matter how hard he tried to hold her at bay. He gave her one more shove, the fabric of his coat slipping through the fingers of the last hand still holding onto him, and she hit the bookcase behind her, sliding to a sitting position, as a few books fell out and landed around her, several pages coming loose and scattering about. The room grew silent, and Gol stared at her, as she sat there, blinking away the shock. She raised one hand to rub her head, before lifting her face to gaze up at him again. His mouth opened to speak, but was stopped from doing so when she spoke up first.

"It's okay."

"What is?"

"It was an accident."

"Was it?"

She gave a slow nod, and then, "Will you not consider what I'm saying?"

"There's nothing to consider." He looked away at the darker room that lay outside this one, no torches yet lit to give some light to it, taking notice of a strange ache that was beginning to work its way up his back.

"There is. Do you…do you really not see how you've changed?" he heard her voice say.

"Maybe I have. But, everyone changes." Even Maia. And her changes were for the best. Most of them, at least. Except for her increased desire to fight with him and the fact that she no longer sang. It only stood to reason that not all of his changes were an improvement, either.

"Not like that. And you'll never see, as long as…"

The Sage turned back to find her staring at the floor, or perhaps, at her feet before her. "As long as what?" he said.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

"It wouldn't make a difference."

He watched her. What had Samos told her? That the Dark Eco had twisted him? That's what he claimed would happen. No doubt he told her that Dark Eco had made them do what they did. No, Dark Eco was not the cause of all this. People were. They were getting what they deserved. That old fool could believe whatever he wanted, but he had no right to poison others against him. No right at all. And now, because of the crimes other people had committed, he was being forced to kill this woman. If she returned to Spargus, he'd have to.

But, would his old self have accepted such an outcome so easily? Back then, would he have just allowed her to die? No, he tried to resist Maia's plans, but…but he had given in anyway. And he still had every intention of finishing the bomb. But, she didn't have to return to Spargus. She didn't have to. She could stay here, but…when she had agreed to staying, she didn't mean that, did she? She didn't mean she'd stay forever, or at least, until the war ended.

"Kassra," he said.

She looked up. "Yes?"

"What would you have me do? Do you think I can just give up now and everything can return to normal? No, they will come for me, you know that. There's no way they'd let me live after what I did."

She sat up straighter. "Maybe they would—"

"Maybe nothing. I have worked too hard for this, as did my dear sister, and I can't turn back now, even if I wanted to. No, even if you don't understand my reasoning, this is something I must do." His hand formed a fist. He had to do it. The bomb was the only way, just as his dear sister had said, and he wasn't about to disregard her wishes. Not again. He would still create their perfect world, even if it wouldn't really be perfect, but empty, but it's what they had both worked for.

He found himself looking up at a blue, cloudless sky above, which seemed to gaze back down at him through the skylight, the day, for whatever reason, feeling like it should be much later than it really was, even if he couldn't say why. He sighed. Yes, this is indeed what they had worked for, and now he simply had no choice but to do it alone.

He returned his gaze to her, finding her to still be watching him, her face hard to read. She spoke again, her voice soft, "What did people do to make you hate them so much?"

They had done so many things. But, it all boiled down to one. "They hated us."

She shook her head. "No—"

"Yes."

"I don't."

"Hmm." Just stay here until the war's over, though I know that you won't. I know it. But, I must use the bomb. It was bad enough to fail Maia when she was still here, but now…

He stepped forward, over the loose papers that had settled there when the books fell (when she fell, because you pushed her), and held out a hand, which she took, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She brushed herself off, then, looked up at him again, her smile returning, as if he hadn't just pushed her, as if she hadn't just fallen and the conversation that followed hadn't happened at all.

"Lunch?" she said.

"That's it, then? You give up?"

"Well…" She looked thoughtful for a moment, then, continued with a shrug. "I tried. It's up to you to think over what I said. You will think it over, won't you?"

"There's nothing to think over."

Her face became serious. "There's a lot to think over. The fate of the world depends on what you do. You can do what you want, but no harm can come from simply thinking about what I said, can it?"

Her smile returned, and then she started to walk by, and he turned to watch her, tilting his head at her willingness to let such an important conversation end. She was right. The fate of the world did indeed rest on him and the actions of those that would try to stop him, and yet she spoke of it like he was insisting on fish instead of yakow for dinner, and she hoped he would change his mind before evening rolled around. Maia certainly wouldn't have caved so easily. In fact, they had quarreled over what to eat on several occasions….

"Where are you going?" he said, and she pun around, in almost the fashion of one dancing.

"You said I didn't need to clean up the library, so I'm not. Do you want lunch or no?"

"No. And you're giving in so easily? I say I won't stop my efforts to take control of the world, and you just walk away? Why did you even bother coming here if you were going to try so half-heartedly?"

She pulled up one finger of her hand with the other. "First, I wanted to see you, and second," she pulled up another finger, "I already tried, and all I can do now is just hope that my words will sink in. And I hope there's enough of the old you left that will consider what I said. You never know, you might just change your mind, after all."

"I most certainly will not. And there is no 'old' me. I am the same person I always was, but more experienced, and all the wiser for it. I will not change my plans just because of your poor logic and your false belief that I used to be someone else."

She sighed and shook her head. "I just wish you could see it," she said, her voice soft. But, before he could respond, she added, "So, no lunch then?"

"What did I already tell you?"

She gave an exaggerated shrug, then, spun around again to continue out the doorway, to be lost from sight around the corner.

He frowned. What was all this nonsense about him being another person once? Yes, he had changed; anyone would after his decades of research, let alone after three hundred years. But, he was not any worse of a person now than he was then. His dear sister wasn't, either. He may not have liked all of her changed, but it didn't make her evil any more than his changes made him that way.

Gol turned to look at the pile of books and loose pages Kassra had left unorganized on the table. It really didn't matter if they ever got cleaned up. He wasn't even sure how much it mattered if the world became his, either. It wouldn't bring Maia back. And he had wanted to transform the world into something better with her by his side. It could never be a world worth living in now, no matter how close to perfect he made it.

He sighed. How could anyone claim he was a bad person? How could he care so much for his dear sister if he was evil? An evil person couldn't love. Those who treated his sister and him with scorn just because they studied something people feared were the evil ones, for hating them for no good reason. They, on the other hand, did have a reason for what they were doing. They had a reason, and it didn't make them evil if people didn't agree with them. People never agreed with them, and that alone never made anyone a bad person.

He crossed his arms, eyes half-closed. He had to continue. It was what Maia wanted. If he didn't, her…it was what she wanted, and he wouldn't deny that to her. He couldn't. What kind of a brother would he be? Even if… He didn't want to hurt Kassra. He didn't. Even if she allowed Samos to fool her so. She was just weak-minded. But, if she returned to Spargus, it may be inevitable.

A knot formed in his stomach. Perhaps he was just hungry. Perhaps. The bomb must be completed. His resolve couldn't waver now. That was what got Maia…that was why she was…was gone. It was his fault she was gone. He couldn't make such a mistake twice.

And yet, could going through with the bomb be considered just that? He shook his head. No, he was just making things too complicated. And yet he couldn't help but feel he was choosing between his dear sister and that woman, which would be an easy decision if one was not already gone.

He tried to take a deep breath, as if that would aid in his decision-making, but it got caught in his lungs, and he grabbed his chest and strained for breath until he could take a somewhat satisfactory one again. His mind had felt fuzzy and numb ever since that day not long ago, and now it was worse than ever. His sister was all that mattered. He had to create the perfect world, for her sake. It wasn't up to him.

But, it was impossible. A perfect world was impossible now. But, he could at least get close. It was what his dear sister wanted, and for that reason, it was the right decision. And yet he couldn't help but ask himself, at what cost would this world come? At what cost, indeed.

Gol's got some difficult decisions on his mind, doesn't he? Please review.