EVEN

I remember waking up last night. At least, it felt like I woke up. If it was all just a dream, then I don’t think I ever want to know.
As I stood there, waiting by my bedside, any spectator would’ve thought something was wrong with me. I wasn’t even consciously certain what was supposed to happen. But this calm washed over me. I was drenched in some kind of silent knowledge, telling me that now was the time for everything.
Lucetta didn’t stir as I passed her bed and floated out the door. I walked the streets of Valhalla, past the houses of all my friends, and wandered over to the temple where I had last seen him. It had an entirely different feel at night. The temple itself seemed half-alive and ready to swallow me the instant I approached it. Had I been entirely in my right mind, I wouldn’t have gone in. But something was there. Something that had pulled me halfway across town, and now whispered to me that a surprise was waiting inside.
Inside the ruined alter, my footsteps echoed on the marble. Across from me was the large, throne-like chair where ancient Djinns had sacrificed their loved ones, the chair where Aether had nearly died at my hands so many years ago…
I approached the chair unwavering, and as I grew nearer, I could hear something inaudible, breathing that never ceased, so tired and lonesome. I came behind the chair, and it was no surprise to see him. His hair had grown lighter since we last met.
He stared up at me in fear and wonder. “Wh-wha-?”
Had he gotten even thinner? I didn’t think it was possible. He looked starved to death. Are you okay? I tried to ask. But I couldn’t find my mouth.
Meanwhile, his eyes turned ill, like he was staring into all oblivion and all eternity at once. “What are you…” he whispered hoarsely.
It’s me, Even. Still no words. Aether, don’t you recognize me? I was so sad suddenly. I wanted him to know me more than anything. I wanted him to hold me. Not be afraid of me.
I flung my arms around him silently. I could feel him draw in a quick, terrified breath. But then he relaxed. I think then, that he understood.
I remember being so close that I could hear his skin, and smell his heartbeat. After that, the rest of the memory comes back to me in little flashes. I remember him telling me he’s seen my brother. He was sitting on an ivy-covered fallen pillar, tugging at a vine tethered to it. “Yeah, he’s doing okay. Bailey and me were-” then the flash ends. Then, there was a moment when I was near the entrance and he was halfway on the other side of the building, yelling to me, “I wish I wouldn’t have left when I did.” Then I would try again to speak. You’re here now. That’s all that matter. Still the words wouldn’t come out. “If I had stuck around just a little longer, maybe things would’ve been diff-” The memory automatically flips to us, sitting together in the chair where dozens before us were given away by their families, their friends, their lovers. I sat in his lap, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, swearing I could see Neptune in the sky. We were speechless for what seemed like a million years, and then he asked, “What if I could be more like you?”
Then the whole thing fades to white. Either I didn’t remember walking back to my bed, or I never left in the first place. Lucetta stood over me, her tiny brow furrowed in distress. “Even? Do you realize how late it is?”
“Hhhmmrr…?”
“It’s nearly noon. You missed breakfast and I won’t let you skip lunch.”
“Erm, ok…”