Page 81 of The Surviving Sky
And Iravan finally saw himself for the kind of husband he was.
He and Ahilya stood in the temple, exchanging flower garlands on their wedding day. Ahilya was beautiful, her eyes bright with unrestrained joy, buthiseyes burned maliciously. He walked away from her, and her face crumpled in anguish, and his heart soared at inflicting the pain. He looked her over as she extended a hand to ask about his missing rudra beads. His contempt of her was a dagger through her heart.
“No…”Iravan wept in the veristem garden.“No…Iwasn’t…Itwasn’t…No, please.”
Again and again, he saw as he made a vow to hold her as his highest ideal, as he promised to travel with her on a path or not at all. And Iravan watched as his words and his actions scorched her.
“No,” he gasped. “Please,please.”
He saw himself insult her as she ordered him away from the expedition. He saw as he laughed at her futile fury. He saw himself manipulate his wife as she grieved for her dead friend.
“Make it stop,” he screamed, holding his head. “Please, oh, rages, please.”
“Answer the question, Iravan,” Laksiya’s voice whipped out. “Do your materialconnections—”
He put his hands over his ears, still on his knees, and rocked himself back and forth.
“Iravan!”
Ahilya held out a pleading hand to him in the solar lab, but he continued to traject, and she trembled in fear; he saw himself, staring in satisfaction as she balked at his supremacy.
“No,” he sobbed. “That’s notme…It’s notme…Please.”
He abandoned her, over and over again, punishing her with his silence, and there was a sick vindication in the action. Her face trembled as he spoke about the architects; she would never be one of them, she would never understand.
Iravan’s hands dug into his hair, the nails scratching his scalp. Uncontrollable sobs rocked his body.I’m sorry, he thought.I’m so sorry. Had he ever loved her? He had vowed to keep her at the center of his universe, and he had failed. This wasn’t love. This wasn’tlove. He was a monster. A horrible weight pushed at him, and he grew smaller, disappearing.
“Iravan, answer the question!”
“No,” he wept. “Release me.Exciseme. Ididn’t…Ihaven’t…Nottethered…I’m not tethered.”
Through the tears blurring his sight, Iravan saw the veristem garden bloom again as every leaf budded a white flower.
“A lie,” Chaiyya whispered, her voice choked.
“Material connections,” Laksiya said, sounding surprised. “Confirmed and still holding. Third condition passed.”
A silence greeted her words, broken only by Iravan’s soft sobs.
“Leave the Moment, Iravan,” Laksiya said quietly.
He obeyed, but the memories filled his mind, haunting him, shaming him. He was on all fours, his body shaking like a leaf in a wind, his head bent, tears relentlessly pouring down his face. He felt more than heard as the others clustered around and knelt by him.
Someone touchedhim—Bharavi—andhe flinched as though she had hit him. Bharavi gently pushed at him until he was sitting back on his knees. Iravan put a forearm over his face, unable to meet her gaze. Her touch was gentle but insistent. She forced him to meet her eyes.
“It’s done,” she said. “You’ve passed.”
“This time,” Laksiya added in an undertone, but Iravan glanced up to see Kiana touch Laksiya’s knee with her cane and shake her head. He looked away, unable to gaze upon them any longer.
“You need to rest.” Chaiyya’s voice quavered. “You’ve been through a traumatic experience.”
“The veristem,” Iravan whispered. “What Isaw…it wasn’t a lie. Thatis…that is who I am.”
Chaiyya exchanged a worried glance with Airav. “Veristem doesn’t account for the truth of your interpretation, Iravan,” she said. “It’s meant to sieve through your memories, past intent and desire, to objective fact. The flowers responded to the questions we asked. They’re no guarantee of the accuracy of the feeling or the visions you saw in the Moment.”
Iravan shook his head. There was no redemption.
“You spiraled, my friend,” Airav said. “You hadn’t confronted your own truths in a while, and in the Moment, they must have warped into their worst versions. It doesn’t mean those memories, thoseinterpretations, were true.”
