~March 18th, 140 AH~

~The Caverns, Concert Hall~

Long after the debates had settled, and long after the concert hall had emptied of its clamouring audience, Asena Shiranui knelt upon centre stage, with eyes closed and mind wandering somewhere beyond her control.

She was looking for something—or someone. She’d been looking for them ever since she’d laid eyes upon this stage. Ever since the sight of it had transported her to a time and place whose promise of power and freedom enticed and frightened her in equal measure.

It was the same release she felt whenever she and her Eidolon summoned their [REVENANT] warrior. A surrender to something wilder and greater than herself. Or was it her true self—only more assured, more actualized?

She wanted to find out. Explore the horizons that had been for much of her life veiled from view. She resented the wills and forces that had kept her in the dark—kept her limited, and therefore compliant. That resentment had allowed her to readily resonate with her Allies’ clamours for war, had compelled her to join her warcry to theirs.

Possibilities enticed and frightened her in equal measure. She wanted—needed—to explore them. That much was inevitable. At the same time, she also dreaded what she might find at the end of her search, both within and without.

And that was just as well. It was fine to dread, to fear. As long as she didn’t let that stop her from moving forward. Come what may, she would be the pilot of her own destiny. Even if that meant—

She slowly opened her eyes, as if in response to a call for her attention. As she adjusted to the theatre’s dim lighting, she saw that she wasn’t entirely alone.

The lone figure of Zelen Athelstan sat a few rows up the middle section. He seemingly hadn’t moved since the town hall had ended, and he now met Asena’s eyes with a questioning gaze, tinged with the hint of an apology.

She wasn’t surprised to see him here. If anything, she’d expected him to seek her out much sooner. This private meeting of theirs had been a long time coming, and neither she nor Zelen could afford to put it off for much longer.

Even so, silence continued to reign. It was difficult to find the right words, and Asena knew it must be the same for him, if not more so.

Where should they even begin? The beginning, the middle, or the end? It was impossible to say… given that, for the two of them, these were all out of order, all one and the same.

“You were awfully quiet during the town hall,” she found herself remarking, knowing full well it wasn’t really what she wanted nor needed to say. “I think I speak for more than a few people when I say… we’d love for you to speak your mind more often.”

Zelen smiled his smile: apologetic, tinged with the hint of a question. “The discussion was lively enough without my input,” he offered by way of explanation. “At some point, it became clear to me… that I had nothing of value to add.”

More silence. When in fact both had more to say—much more. Yet they were both afraid to be the first to lay themselves bare.

Asena sighed, then stood. Despite kneeling for some time, she felt no strain on her body. If anything, she felt limber, light on her feet… and ready to explore.

“Dance with me, Zelen,” she suddenly said, surprising both herself and her companion. Possibilities had emboldened her—or were they simply more veils for her to hide behind? She added hastily, “It’s only… I don’t have my painting supplies with me here. And I’ve been itching for some form of… release. Would you care to, um, assist?”

A painful excuse, as childish as it was contrived. She started blushing before she could even finish the thought, fully expecting the question on Zelen’s face to turn into outright bewilderment. And it did, but only for a moment, before he smiled his smile and stood from his seat.

“I’d be glad to,” he said as he walked down the steps, “but I have to warn you. I’m no good with dances.”

“I can show you,” she said, trying on her own smile for size. “Do you know the Sky River Waltz? It was one of my favourites growing up. We don’t have a band here… but I know the music well enough to hum it.”

A pause in his steps. Then, “Yes… I think so? Just vaguely, but if you show me the steps, I might remember.”

Zelen was as good as his word. His movements were awkward at first, stumbling over his feet, and with frequent stops that forced Asena to restart the song again and again. But he was not for nothing a Tetrarch son, and before long, the pair settled into a semblance of rhythm.

Asena managed to lose herself in the music of her own humming. Freed from having to instruct her partner on his every step, she started to actually enjoy herself, hearkening back to a time when the veils over her world had kept her limited, and therefore content.

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With ease of mind, she could more acutely sense Zelen’s presence and physicality. She began to feel the gravity of his touch, the tensing of his muscles, and the heat of his rising breath. She felt… and she remembered.

Yes. This was her Zelen. Earnest, polite, obedient. Ready and willing to offer himself at all times, whether it was to be pushed onto the floor at the end of a sparring session, to murder an enemy in cold blood, or to wedge himself in between two siblings who were ready to destroy one another…

An empty vessel. To be filled with her every whim. To be molded to her every need.

Asena stopped her humming. She broke free of Zelen’s gentle grip, and fell to her knees, weeping. Then her silent weeping quickly turned to heaving sobs, as she buried her face in her hands.

Even in the throes of her uncontrolled sobbing, she could feel her partner’s presence, his proximity. Surprise turned to confusion, then confusion to tender acceptance. Without prompting, Zelen lowered himself onto the floor and wrapped an arm around Asena’s shuddering shoulders.

She surrendered herself to the embrace. To the set of shoulders she’d been seeking all her life. She broke her posture and leaned against Zelen’s weight and warmth, thereby fully entrusting herself to another’s support, for the first time in as long as she could remember.

She kept sobbing for some time, and Zelen silently held her as she did. She didn’t move, even after her sobs had died down and after her own shoulders had stopped shaking.

And it was like this, held in and fully reliant on Zelen’s embrace, that Asena finally found the courage to say what needed to be said long ago.

“I’ve wronged you terribly, Zelen,” she spoke in a hoarse whisper, still thick with snot and tears, “in ways that don’t bear forgiving. So I won’t ask for your forgiveness”

He said nothing. Held her in his gentle warmth.

“When I brought you back from your Psychic collapse… on the orders of Fenix Duodecim… I was forced to [REWIRE] your freshly restored memories. Lest you repeat another collapse and… and in the process destroy yourself and everyone around you. This you already know. But what I didn’t tell you was—”

Another sob threatened to break through from the chasm in her chest. She fought it down with a shuddering sigh.

“What I didn’t tell you was that the [REWIRING] also robbed you of something important—someone that was essential to who you were and what you fought for. Your Spiegel. Her name was Delta-Upsilon. And Tsetseg Tenger before that. You called her ‘Silon’. The two of you were… close. No, that doesn’t even begin to—the two of you were partners, in the truest sense of the word. In ways that are rare to find, even between two people who can see and touch each other. In ways that… that I could never—”

The sob did break through then, and Asena furiously wiped away fresh tears from her eyes. Zelen’s grip tightened a touch, but he still said nothing.

“I deceived you, Zelen,” she continued, as more tears fell. “We all deceived you. Made you fight for reasons that weren’t your own. And when you did find something—someone you wished whole-heartedly to lay down your life for… we took her away from you. I took her away. And I… Do you see, Zelen? Do you see why we can’t be together—why I can’t be the ‘family’ you want me to be?”

She took several more breaths to steady herself, to not much avail. Zelen’s hand ran up and down her shoulder, in what he must’ve been intended as a comforting gesture, but it only made her cry harder.

“I tried, Zelen! God knows I tried. I tried to be that person. Your new reason to fight. I thought it was my duty. I got you into this mess, so it was up to me to drag you out of it. If only I could pretend to forget… just like I made you forget. If only I could pretend that this was a blank slate, a fresh beginning, freed from the follies and tragedies we left behind in Akropolis. But I… I couldn’t forget. I couldn’t pretend, couldn’t keep lying. Because to do so would make me no different from the General… than the Tetrarchy. Manipulating you to do our bidding—only because you don’t know any better!”

By now, her sobbing was worse than ever. She could barely get the next words out, could barely understand herself, “I’m sorry, Ze—I know I shouldn’t—I know I should’ve—this isn’t fair—none of this was ever fair, and I’m just so—”

“It’s alright.”

Asena desperately blinked away her tears, if only to hold Zelen in her gaze. Earnest Zelen. Polite Zelen. Obe—no, this wasn’t obedience. What was it? A light in his eyes, where before there was only blackness. Only nothing. What was—

“I’m glad you told me,” he said earnestly. He said with conviction. “I’m glad you didn’t let me forget. This person… Silon. I can’t say I remember her or the way I used to feel about her, but I do feel… something. And I think I understand. That something is everything.”

Asena stopped crying. And she watched Zelen.

She watched his gentle eyes glimmer with possibilities of his own. Where had that light come from? Asena wasn’t so self-absorbed as to believe that she’d been the one to help ignite it. But she was honest enough with herself to recognize a pang of heartache at the sight of it.

And she watched his lips faintly quiver with a fragile hope. What did Zelen Athelstan hope for, of his own volition and free from the lies that told him for whom he should fight? How she wanted to look into and share that hope! How she wanted to reach for those lips and feel their tremor against her own…

Asena shook her head. Zelen wasn’t the only one that still needed to be freed from falsehoods that would tie him down. She needed to wean herself off her own lies—to shed herself of that awkward young girl that had once been smitten with the idea of her fiancé…

But… for now? Just for a few more moments, could she be forgiven for remaining in a false lover’s embrace? To lose herself in his gentle warmth for a while longer, before their respective possibilities inevitably pulled them apart?

Asena and Zelen sat upon a dimming stage, and held each other in silent embrace. The silence was sacred. The silence was precious—the last of its kind.

Because they both knew, that the next time they spoke, and forever more after that, they would have to be true to one another.