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heirtothearcaneI hadn't actually heard what she'd been saying for the past ten minutes. I'm still too startled by her appearance in my workspace. The room is one of cold, dark stone, it's floor and sparse furnishings covered with notes like a blanket of dead leaves. There are no windows so there is no sense of time down here. That's how I like it. No distractions, just the task. And my fiancée, apparently. I suddenly realise she’s staring at me expectantly. I think she'd asked a question. The chalk between my fingers nearly snaps as I jump to attention. "Y-yes, uh… Yes…"
"Wonderful!" Oh good, she is going to the door… but after opening it she stands and waits… Waits for me. What had I agreed to again? A chat? A meeting? A party? What had she been talking about? Instead of answers I see my theorized solutions as they begin slipping from my memory and I give one last forlorn look to my notebooks as she directs me up towards daylight.
I discover, to my great relief, that she had asked me to lunch. Sitting across from her I listen as she chatters away excitedly. My distractedness is clearly no issue to her, which is even more of a relief. I always feel nervous around her. I’m not sure why. By all accounts she’s pretty, friendly, funny, smart… Even Isidor seems to like her, in her own bristly way. She seems kind. I shouldn’t be nervous. Over the years I had unintentionally found friends and sanctuary with women first and foremost. I had been compared to them in small sly jabs the moment I failed to live up to expectations of masculinity and power. The moment it became clear I would never be my father. I never wanted to. The gentleness and empathy they tried to tame my sister with were traits I gladly wore and it was my mother, my sister and even, unexpectedly, my grand aunt who defended these things. And who didn’t want to be like them? From the times I spent with her I could see my mother balanced the crushing weights of her responsibilities perfectly, attentively. My grand aunt… I disagree with her about lots of things, but I could only hope to be as good at navigating my world of dreams as she is with the realm of the dead. And Isidor… She’s everything anybody wants, everything I can’t be, and she still puts me before everything else.
That isn’t to say the women I find myself around can’t be cruel. Poenia has always been the greatest example of this, and even my grandmother keeps my mother on her toes. They can be confusing too… Especially when they aren’t family. It strikes me that this is the perhaps the biggest, most subtle change the Nexus has made on my life. Women are suddenly not the reliable sanctuary I’d come to know them as. Everything has been turned backwards, just a little bit. Just enough to confuse me. Just enough to feel terribly, terribly lost.
A warm hand settles on mine. I blink at it, and then look up to see Runa watching me, face twisted in concern. “Are you alright?”
I blink again and then force my muscles to relax, allowing a flaky smile to flicker onto my face. “Yes, sorry. I was just… thinking.”
She relaxes in turn and her smile returns to its proper place, softer this time. “You never stop working, do you?”
My cheeks began to burn and I’m about to mumble an apology when she sits forward, eyes wide and glinting brightly. “Tell me about it?”
Perhaps… Perhaps I wasn’t on the same path I had been, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe this was the path to a new sanctuary. The path to new people, new friends, and new family.
"Wonderful!" Oh good, she is going to the door… but after opening it she stands and waits… Waits for me. What had I agreed to again? A chat? A meeting? A party? What had she been talking about? Instead of answers I see my theorized solutions as they begin slipping from my memory and I give one last forlorn look to my notebooks as she directs me up towards daylight.
I discover, to my great relief, that she had asked me to lunch. Sitting across from her I listen as she chatters away excitedly. My distractedness is clearly no issue to her, which is even more of a relief. I always feel nervous around her. I’m not sure why. By all accounts she’s pretty, friendly, funny, smart… Even Isidor seems to like her, in her own bristly way. She seems kind. I shouldn’t be nervous. Over the years I had unintentionally found friends and sanctuary with women first and foremost. I had been compared to them in small sly jabs the moment I failed to live up to expectations of masculinity and power. The moment it became clear I would never be my father. I never wanted to. The gentleness and empathy they tried to tame my sister with were traits I gladly wore and it was my mother, my sister and even, unexpectedly, my grand aunt who defended these things. And who didn’t want to be like them? From the times I spent with her I could see my mother balanced the crushing weights of her responsibilities perfectly, attentively. My grand aunt… I disagree with her about lots of things, but I could only hope to be as good at navigating my world of dreams as she is with the realm of the dead. And Isidor… She’s everything anybody wants, everything I can’t be, and she still puts me before everything else.
That isn’t to say the women I find myself around can’t be cruel. Poenia has always been the greatest example of this, and even my grandmother keeps my mother on her toes. They can be confusing too… Especially when they aren’t family. It strikes me that this is the perhaps the biggest, most subtle change the Nexus has made on my life. Women are suddenly not the reliable sanctuary I’d come to know them as. Everything has been turned backwards, just a little bit. Just enough to confuse me. Just enough to feel terribly, terribly lost.
A warm hand settles on mine. I blink at it, and then look up to see Runa watching me, face twisted in concern. “Are you alright?”
I blink again and then force my muscles to relax, allowing a flaky smile to flicker onto my face. “Yes, sorry. I was just… thinking.”
She relaxes in turn and her smile returns to its proper place, softer this time. “You never stop working, do you?”
My cheeks began to burn and I’m about to mumble an apology when she sits forward, eyes wide and glinting brightly. “Tell me about it?”
Perhaps… Perhaps I wasn’t on the same path I had been, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe this was the path to a new sanctuary. The path to new people, new friends, and new family.
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