Shards of the Mirror

He took a glance in each direction. She wasn't anywhere to be found. He thought, conversed with himself, Didn't she tell me she'd be here? Maybe I got it wrong. Maybe I've always been wrong. I'm disillusioned, he thought, I'm cold, now alone. The plain was empty, slightly covered in barely present snow. It was drizzling now. The rainforest surrounding him was quiet for a rainforest. The clouds above him were dark for afternoon clouds. The air was damp and so was he. He already had a cold from being out here for just twenty minutes. "One year ago," he said by his lonesome, "we met here." Not for the first time, but it might as well have been. "We gazed over the cliffs at the birds below. We gazed at each other." Only briefly, for we weren't the only ones out here. "I wondered then if I was a romantic. I was most certain that I was then. But I wondered if I was overly so. If holding on to an unrealized dream was worth it." Because there she was, right here one year ago, looking back at him. Proof that it wasn't.


Adrian Mariano: how do I describe him? I feel like I've known him for my entire life. Like I've grown up with him. But that's not technically true. Not even half true. But I've known his family. I've grown up with them. And he's like a brother to me now. Not even like a little brother, even though he is physically a couple years younger, but just as a brother. And possibly my best friend. At least, he is one of my best. His sense of humor is most similar to mine, and it seems like we can talk about almost anything. That is a half-inverted truth with his sister. And I hope to rectify that. I believe I have started to. But this paragraph isn't about her. So let's see... Adrian. Yes. I love Adrian. And I hope he still respects me after he finds out what I've done.


"Yes, Meltri, I hate having these conversations with you."
"But why? And we're arguing, really. Not just conversing."
"Sure, we're arguing. But you handily win. Every time."
"Hmm... There's a reason for that, you know."
"No. I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No. I've had enough of this. I'm leaving now."
"You love me."


A dalliance no longer. A train wreck. A broken seal. A court order. Her tears forfeit unbelievable emotion. Some reckless abandon. Some ignorance forgotten. Somebody left her. Someone changed her. It is unbelievable. I won't believe it.

"No I don't. You're too quippy. And it's annoying."
"But you love it. You can't bear to be away from it. From me. My quippiness."
"Kararve. You just assume that."
"No I don't. I know that. You love me."
"Stop saying that!"
"You love me."
"Shut up!"
"Love, love, love."
"No... no, no."
"Me, me, me."
"Please stop."
"I won't until you make me. And the only way to make me is to admit it."
"You are impossible."
"It warms me to hear you say that. Now admit it."
"Admit what?"
"That you love me."
"Oh, but that's not true. I can't admit what isn't true."


"I didn't think you were the one who pulled. I mean, at first I suspected. As I suspected everybody. As I have to. But you did an incredible job, I'll give you that."

He didn't have words to say. He simply stood there, blank-faced, jaws gaping, eyes wide. A minute ago, he didn't have that look. I wondered for a moment why. He's not breathing. And... Is that blood behind him?

"Neilus?" No response. He just stood there, locked, frozen. I reached for my gun on instinct. And then he fell over. I only noticed the tiny handle of the knife in his back on my second glance. I sighed. "Cat, I know you're there."

"Sorry, I improvised." Her voice came from behind the sofa. She crawled out into view. Three more little daggers hung on the strap across her chest.

"Really? He was just about to confess, you know. Are you sure revenge had nothing to do with it?"

"Yes. I improvised revenge. And I did apologize, so..."

"You're... Not even upset."

"Why should I be?" She stood by the front door, ready to leave. Her voice never quavered. What is wrong with her? I hated her right then. Now what am I going to do?

"C'mon... Let's go get breakfast."

"What about Maddy?" Her tone implied genuine concern, but I now doubted that she even cared.

"We'll pick her up on the way."


"Why are you smiling, Pavol? Are you enjoying this?"
"What? No."
"It seems you are. And you're not very good at lying to me anymore. Do you know why?"
"Hmm... Let me guess. It's because I love you?"
"Ha! So you do admit it!"
"I do not. I was just humoring you. You should have seen the excitement on your face."
"Don't try to turn this around. I have all the evidence I need. Now I'll just ask Vashiel for access to the video cameras and..."
"Oh, but why do you need evidence? Why are you looking for evidence?"
"For a hunch that has now been proven. Thanks, Pavvy."
"No. I haven't proven anything. But I think I understand something now."
"And what's that?"
"That you, my poor friend, are in love with me."
"Of all the haughty things you could say... Your royal ego must be starving as of late."
"But you are in love with me."
"I'm pretty sure I could laugh at you right now."
"Are you sure? Why don't you just laugh at me, then?"
"This conversation has become tedious and irrelevant. Goodnight, Pavol."
"This is not just a conversation, it's an argument. And you're losing. Oh my gosh!"
"Now who's quippy?"
"Why haven't you denied it yet?"
"Denied?! There's nothing to deny!"
"Ha HA!"
"Wait! That came out wrong!"
"Too bad. I have all the evidence I need."
"You know what? Fine. I don't care. I love you. Happy now?"

Check? Her eyes asked me. I smiled, slightly laughed, and looked down at the battle again. Both sides had lost a lot of pieces. But my side had lost more. Now, she had trapped my king on G2 with only one way out. In four or six more moves, she could win. But maybe she won't see it. No, she will. If she hasn't already... She is leaning over the board with concealed excitement. Her eyes locked briefly on her mighty queen, then she looked away, leaned back, and then looked at me. Well? She blinked and sniffed with faux-innocence and slight anxiousness. She had to maintain her I-totally-didn't-just-discover-your-demise look in order to make her own victory all the more sweet. She played with her braid, pretending not to be paying attention. I couldn't help but examine her once again (and if she ever noticed when I stared at her, she didn't seem to care -- at least not during chess). The corners of her lips were usually a tell, although I always read their precise reactions incorrectly. Why am I looking for a tell? I already know that she has her next moves planned. Her eyes met mine and her eyebrows rose. Yes? I smiled and shrugged and shook my head. Nothing. She smiled lightly, always pleasantly. Alright. She nudged toward the chessboard. Your move.


"..."
"Oh, what's wrong? Oh my gosh! Did I just take your breath away?"
"Umm..."
"You weren't expecting me to admit it, huh? I suppose I surprised you, huh? Now you should see your face."
"...You love me?"
"Yes. Of course I do. Now if you'll pardon me, I'm going to bed."
"Wait."
"Hmm?"
"Don't leave."
"Why not?"
"You win. And you're right."
"Call me slow... But, huh?"
"I, uh, love you?"
"What? No you don't."
"Yes, I do."
"But I was just..."
"You weren't joking. You were absolutely right."
"Shut up. Stop looking at me like that."
"I love you."
"Stop saying that."
"Love, love, love..."
"Uhh... no, no, no."
"You, you, you..."
"Me? Me?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
"Yes."
"Huh."
"Mhmm."


There's plenty of room for error. We have plenty room to breathe, you see. And with our spare time, what will we do? Procrastinate. Enjoy ourselves. Lollygag. It's almost inevitable, you see. Because it's indefinite, our time here. They won't let us out if we finish what we came for and they won't let us out if we never finish. But we're not trapped here, either. We are free, you see. Technically. And you are even freer than us. But where do we go? What do we do? There is no other place for us. So we breathe. We waste our time. We enjoy ourselves. We lollygag. We will eventually forget things. We will become unpracticed. And then the shift in power will come, and we'll be cracked down on. We'll slip. Someone will fail. It's pointless, you see. The margin is there. It was never removed. And it's too late now. There's plenty of room for error.


What an idiot. It wouldn't have taken a lot of nerve to approach her. As Adrian pointed out, she's just a human. Yep. A human bean. But how in the world do I tell her? Or tell anyone? I'm lucky enough that Adrian caught me. That made things easier. I would just show her, but... At this point, it won't be easy: “Hey, Mr. M, would you be so kind to ask all of your friends to turn around and close their eyes while I try to explain something to your daughter? Oh, and could close your eyes too? I know this is your house and everything, but I just don't want the military to know about me. Understand?” Or even worse: “Hey, Mr. M, would you mind if took your daughter into the other room to show her something in private. She currently hates me, but after this, there's no way she could!” Ugh...

I just need to get her attention. If only I could get her attention. And then I have to keep her attention. And then I have to describe to her what is absolutely insane and impossible and unbelievable and incredible. I’m gonna bank on that incredible part. See, Prevak? It won’t be that hard. Just swallow, breath in and approach her. And don’t trip, please.


Her hand was cold when he felt it, but so was the air. It was supposed to be sunny that day, but what do you expect on this peninsula? Rain is what you expect. And although it wasn't raining at that particular moment, it was misty enough to have a similar effect. "We were all somehow soaked already. When we woke up that morning, the gymnasium was dry and the air was dusty. But the moment we stepped out into the cold air, we were soaked. It doesn't even have to rain here to be the wettest place in the country." As he talked to himself, a persistent breeze picked up and penetrated his "windproof" jacket. And it started raining again. Figuring it was now time to go back to the car, he picked himself up off the grass and walked to the pathway. It occurred to him only then, as he walked steadily to his blue pickup, as the increasing wind all but flattened the swordferns, that despite everything that had happened and the way it had ended, he was happy that it happened. As much as he would wish he could change it, he couldn't, and a memory held intact was more valuable than one forgotten, no matter how intricately painful it was to bear. But it wasn't completely painful. It wasn't hard to bear, really, now he realized. He was just fortunate she even existed. And the good parts would outweigh the bad, if he let them. If he did not allow himself to dwell on what went wrong. If he remembered what transpired not as mere memory, not as a mistake. But as a part of his life ongoing. A chapter. Then he would be okay knowing that. He would be happy. Simply, happy.


"So then... we're in love?"
"Shh. Don't ruin it, sweetie."