Gol is bored.

Chapter 62: Purpose

Gol spent the next few days largely asleep, and even when he was awake, he still remained in bed for most of the day, where he was subjected to Kassra's attempts to care for him or her humming as she did her work in the other room. And the strange feeling of deja vu, that he was reliving a worse version of past events, continued as his strength began to return to him, no doubt thanks to the bitter Green Eco (though, no matter how much of it he drank, he could never get used to the chill it sent through him each and every time). And just as she had a year ago, the woman brought him books to read, along with all the pairs of glasses she had been able to scavenge until he found one that suited him, plus a new coat, this one with two sleeves, so that his withered arm could be hidden from his artificially restored sight, even if that still didn't make him forget about it.

Eventually, he didn't have so much trouble getting around, and once he was able to spend far less of the day in idle rest, he then put his efforts into convincing Kassra that she no longer needed to watch over him, that he could take care of himself again, and once the stubborn woman finally obliged and returned to more of her usual routine outside the house, this left him with even more time alone, but he was taking enough from her by living in her home, and he certainly didn't need to waste her time, as well. And the longer she was away, the less she could see that he was still in pain, his breathing ragged and quite possibly growing worse. The Green Eco may have helped to heal some of the damage done to him from his treatment back at the palace, but it couldn't reverse the effects of simple aging. He was old, very old, and it was best if she wasn't around to think of the implications of that. It was bad enough that he was.

A pile of the books he had finished began to form in his room as a visual indication of the passage of time, and the taller it became, the more he realized that this was the first time in his life that he had no goal. Filling his free time with reading and other such things was all well and good when he also had something he was working towards during the rest of his waking hours, but right now, all of his time was free time, and each new book he finished only made him fear more and more what he would do with what remained of his life once he had had enough of such pointless tasks.

Surely he couldn't just sit around and read for the rest of his days. What would be the point of such a thing? It was merely to make the time go by faster, but it was certainly not productive, and he had never been the type to waste time. He had to work. He lived for it. He couldn't get enough of his research and his quest to unlock all the secrets Dark Eco had to offer, and sometimes his obsession grew so strong that he would stay up late into the night just so he could continue it. But, what did he have to live for now? What did he have to keep him up at night anymore, other than worrying and his constant battle to take a simple breath? He had no purpose anymore. He had never been without a purpose, not until now, and frankly, it was one of the most terrifying things he had ever faced.

And when he could stand reading no longer, reading about the trivial things in the world or about other people that had accomplished so much more in their short span of time on this planet than he had in his long one, he'd set his current book aside and pace, or look out the window at a world he had not really been a part of in so long, a world he had never felt a part of, and a world he really doubted would welcome him back at this point anyway, or he'd gaze at Kassra's figurines, resisting the urge to line them up more neatly, or he'd try to figure out what the next one she had started was going to be. But, no matter what he did, it all felt like waiting. Waiting for an end that couldn't be far off, as he could swear his fits of wheezing were growing more frequent, his coughing more raw. It was an impossible predicament he was in. The Dark Eco that was once so much a part of him had kept him alive and in better shape than he was in right now, even if he had been sick enough back then, as well, but even if he could get his hands on the substance again, it would only cause him to change back, back into the man that had killed thousands and even tried to follow through on a plan that would've killed Kassra.

He had tried to kill her. Why did she not seem to get that? Here he was, taking up residence in her home, even when he could have so easily caused her death. It made him sick, but he could only hope that she would never comprehend what he had tried to do. He couldn't bear the thought of her ever realizing just how horrid a person he was. Perhaps it was best he no longer had any purpose, because it was those kinds of things he did when he had one.

But, he did have a good purpose once, so very long ago, a pure goal that involved nothing more than knowledge and bettering the lives of others. He had not had evil intentions back then, at least, not until the day he had forgotten about these goals of his, when his sister and he had devised plans that were for their own gain, even if it hurt everyone else. If only he could return to those days when his sister and he had done nothing but study Dark Eco together, when world domination couldn't be farther from their minds. He'd go back to all of that without a second thought, even if people still didn't treat them as he wanted and even if they continued to fear the two of them just because of a simple misunderstanding. He could have made them understand, through all the times he could have helped them. He could've shown them that you didn't have to be a bad person to want to study Dark Eco. Because he wasn't a bad person back then. And he could've proven this to them. If he had succeeded in that goal, they could have had peaceful lives, and they could have avoided all the strife that didn't make their lives any better in the end anyway.

And whenever Kassra was around, he had an opportunity to take a break from the things he had been obsessing over the whole day, though it was an opportunity he did not take up, for the woman's chattering about the mundane things that went on in her life, which were actually marginally more interesting than what he had done with his time, only reminded him even more how meaningless each day was. He needed to do something with his life. It was up to her if she was content to spend her days scavenging for food or otherwise keeping herself busy with frivolous hobbies, but he wanted more out of life.

He had always wanted to make a difference in the world, to contribute something that no one else yet had, but after four hundred years, he had fallen far short. Yes, he had accumulated quite a great deal of knowledge on Dark Eco, and yes, he had made breakthroughs that no one before him ever had. But, what good did it do when no one actually knew of his work? His life truly was a wasted effort if even the work he had accomplished during his productive years were forgotten. His work would die with him, what remained of his notes left behind to rot in a forgotten dresser drawer in the citadel many miles away. He couldn't go back for them now, and surely he couldn't continue his research, either. The only thing that had given his life meaning, aside from his dear sister, was the one thing he could never do again. It seemed like he'd have to think of something else.

Dinner came and went, consisting of yet another stew of stunted vegetables and meat, though he tried very hard to forget just what kind of creature the meat came from. He had actually offered in the past, during an apparent lapse in sound thinking, he believed, to cook a few meals so she wouldn't have to do it all the time, but his first try had resulted in the same kind of concoction he usually created, the already tough mystery meat (well, he wished it was a mystery) made even more impossible to chew through than ever before, and that was after the house was filled with smoke and all the windows had to be opened to air the place out.

Afterward, they returned to eating whatever it was Kassra decided to create, and, when questioned on why nearly every meal consisted of some kind of soup or stew, she stated it was because nothing else could be considered both a meal and a beverage all mixed into one quite like soup could. And he supposed she had a point. And like every other meal, she chattered throughout the entire thing, while he remained silent, but not out of simple grumpiness as she was usually so quick to believe, but because there really was nothing to say when he had done as little that day as the last. He hardly noticed when she took the bowls away, so busy was he staring off at a droopy plant on the kitchen counter, with his head resting in one hand. This was as good a way to spend his time as any.

"You still aren't eating much," he heard her say, her voice raised to be heard as she filled the sink with water.

"You would be correct." That plant was definitely more yellow than it was a week ago.

He heard the muffled clanking of bowls settling to the bottom of the sink, followed by the squeak of her chair as Kassra sat back down.

"Don't you have some dishes to do?" Maia would slap him for a statement like that. She was good about turning the things he said into apparent insults about her gender.

"Didn't you have some dinner to finish?"

His eyes made a lazy sweep away from the plant to find her watching him with a rather stern expression on her face and her fingers laced before her on the table.

"No. No, I didn't," he said, meeting her gaze.

"I beg to differ."

"You do that."

Her head drooped, and she heaved a sigh. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"You ask me that every day, and I never tell you."

"But this time," a sly grin began to make its way across her face as she stretched her arms out in front of her, before resting them, still outstretched, on the table, "I won't relent until you answer me."

"You can be quite pushy. Are you aware of that?"

"And you're very stubborn. Maybe I have to be pushy." She slid her arms further across the table until one hand reached his sleeve and attempted to grab onto it. "Tell me."

He jerked his sleeve away, and she withdrew her arms to fold them in front of her on the table, before resting her chin on them. "I'm waiting," she said.

"You are really one of the most aggravating people I've ever met. But, if I tell you, don't think you'll always get your way just by being a pest. I'm answering you of my own free will and not because you made me. Understand?"

She nodded.

Gol looked away, his eyes going unbidden to the yellow plant behind her again. Why wouldn't she just water it? He blew out a breath. "I've been thinking…" He rested one fist on the table and began to rap his fingers upon its surface. "I've decided to write a book about Dark Eco. There's—"

Kassra's head jerked up, her eyes gone wide and her smile all but vanished. "But, you're…you're better now. You can't go back to—"

His hand went still. "I was a Dark Eco Sage once. I can hardly call myself one now, but I was, and that didn't make me a bad person. Studying it was once my life's work, and seeing as no book has ever been written on the subject, no proper book, I can think of no better person to do it than myself."

She blinked at him. "You can still be a Dark Eco Sage if you want to be."

"That's not the point."

"But—"

"The point is I have to do something with what's left of my life, and what better way than to spend it doing something I always meant to do, but never got around to? People need to see that Dark Eco is so much more than just a dangerous substance to be feared as they seem to think. It will hurt no one to know the truth, to know not only about the dangers of Dark Eco, but its applications, as well. Dark Eco can do nothing to me if I only write about it."

She continued to watch him as she slid her arms back to herself, her hands catching themselves before they fell off the table to grip at the edge, where she proceeded to pick at the grain. "I don't know…"

"There's nothing to know or not know."

"But, what if someone finds out?"

"What is there to find out?"

Her eyes dropped to stare at her hands, and his ears could just detect the scratching of her nails as they ran along the wood. "Nothing, I guess."

He, too, couldn't help but focus on the movement of her fingers when she said no more. Was it really that terrible of a thing? Was he going astray again without even realizing it? He may be stubborn. He may even be a fool. But, he certainly didn't intend on making the same mistake twice.

"This changes nothing," he said. "Everyone told me that Light Eco would return me to the person I once was, and perhaps it has, but that fact doesn't change just because…just because I put an end to my life's work. Does it?" There was nothing wrong with what he wanted to do. It was just a simple book, for crying out loud! "Well, does it?"

She looked up, her fingers stilled. "Stop saying stuff about what's left of your life and all that. Nothing's going to happen to you. You're fine."

"That's…not what I meant."

She returned her attention to her thumbs as they went back to tracing the edge of the table, her unblinking stare appearing to want to bore holes into the wood. "You can do what you want."

He gave a raspy sigh. "What's the problem?" It was just like him to say the wrong thing, without even knowing that he had until it was too late. But, apparently he had done something.

"Nothing's the matter."

"If it upsets you so, then perhaps I should do nothing, even though I don't see a problem with my idea."

She mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"You don't have to do that," she repeated, though he just caught the words, her tone remaining soft as the movement of her fingers halted once again. "You don't have to not do something just because of me."

"That's not so, if what I do bothers you so much."

"Well, it doesn't. I don't really care. I was just…" she looked up, "saying stuff. That's all."

Without warning, Kassra stood and returned to the sink, where she proceeded to rinse out the bowls he had completely forgotten about. He watched her, the only sound in the room being the sloshing of water, and after a time, he began to wonder if her dishes were taking far longer today than they normally did.

"My intention was not to upset you," he said.

She paused in her work. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-huh."

"Because I don't think you quite understood me. I studied Dark Eco for centuries, so you can't really blame me if I'm finding the thought of just giving up on my research to be rather difficult. I know I can't study it any longer, but I would certainly feel much more at ease if my work was at least more organized. You know how much of a…neat freak I am, don't you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"And I'm not going to change back, either. I promise. As much as it used to bother me to think that I am no longer the same person I had been these last several centuries, I accept it now. And…I suppose I am better the way I am now. I have no desire to go back, so you needn't worry yourself over that."

"Mm-hmm."

She finally started to make some progress in her work when she began to dry the bowls with a dish towel, while he sought out something else to focus on, his gaze flicking past the yellow plant only to settle on a wooden cat on the mantelpiece. His eyes narrowed.

"You've been coughing a lot more lately."

Gol looked over to find that she was still busy drying a bowl. And he was pretty sure it was the same one. "I tend to do that."

The circular motion of her hand went still. "No, you've been doing it more than usual."

He opened his mouth, but could find no way to respond without lying, and he simply settled with, "I really should be getting back to my room." He stood, and it was only now that she spun around to face him, bowl and towel still gripped in her hands.

"Already?"

"It would appear so." He turned away when her gaze failed to leave him and headed for the hallway.

"I'm sorry."

He stopped to look back over his shoulder. "About what?"

"For being upset."

"Why would you need to apologize for that?"

She shrugged. "Because I shouldn't be."

"You can feel however you want. It's nothing to apologize for."

She shrugged again.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Uh-huh."

He returned to his room, closing the door behind him and sitting on the bed, where he then proceeded to cough into his hand, pausing when he pondered over whether or not the woman could hear him, and his breath caught in his throat, only causing him to hack more. There surely wasn't anything wrong with him, though. He was just ill. He had been for a long time, but it was certainly nothing to worry himself over. Or Kassra. To be quite honest, he was just lucky he had even lasted this long.

When his coughing spell finally came to an end, he turned with a heaving chest to the books piled on the table at the end of his bed. How nice it would be if one of those had been written by his own hand. He had meant to write a book compiling everything he had learned about Dark Eco, but other things had gotten in the way, and it never happened. But, it would be as good a use of his time as any. And if he didn't do it now, there was a good chance he never would. He may never be able to. But, maybe he shouldn't think that way.

Gol spent the rest of the evening with a book in hand, but little of that time was actually spent reading. Yes, that was exactly what he needed. Closure to his research. Because, even if he couldn't go back to his old life, he was still the Dark Eco Sage at heart.

Gol decides to turn author, a most noble profession if there ever was one. And now, except for the rare event of a violent pencil disaster, he finally has a goal that is far less detrimental to the welfare of others. Oh, and there's always paper cuts to worry about, but those are rarely life threatening. Please review.