~ The Push ~ pg 4

Surprise, hope, disgust, and desperate, selfish need. These were the emotions that flitted through his heart, though he was not proud of them.  Alex watched her walk away, his own heart aching for her pain. 

Why? He couldn’t understand it. He’d always thought that the elements were somewhat sentient in their own right.  That they could reason… that they could feel… and that they were, underneath it all, if not good, at least neutral. But this… giving Civyl back his memory for a day before ripping it away again. The fire was being cruel – to both its chosen and to the one its chosen loved. Why? The whole thing seemed senseless, to chase after some unknown ends on some unknown quest all while being yourself unknowing and unknown. And why must Fiora be the one to suffer for it? It was not fair. 

He started after her, heart thumping in his throat. His selfish ambition warred with his selfless adoration. Fiora’s heart thumped, too; slowly and without the joy she’d had just yesterday. If he could give her that joy back he would, even if it mean she be forever lost to him. He would endure the pain of living without her if it meant she would live on in joy… but maybe he could restore her joy another way; give her a different joy. 

She accepted his comfort, accepted his bitter sweet embrace while she wept. When she quieted, he spoke what he knew. “He will remember you again.” 

“But for how long?” she asked without looking up then answered her own question. “Only until the Sight take him again. And again after that. And again after that. Alex, it might never end!” 

Alex hugged her tighter feeling her pulse quicken in her anger. His own pulse sped to match. Standing so close to her… it was almost second nature to fall in sync with her, but a cloud of despair poured from her heart making him cringe. She deserved better, a better future. “You don’t have to endure it. You don’t have to go with him.” 

“Where else would I go?” 

Her heart thrummed just ahead of his. With a unified breath they were locked together. One heart. There was comfort in it and hope and promise… but it required something. 

“You could stay…” he whispered into her hair, “…with me.” I love you, he thought. 

A heartbeat. A breath. A heartbeat.

I love you, too, she answered. Was it his imagination again? 

The End

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