Page 96 of The Enduring Universe
He’d lost his axe somewhere in the manic run within the maze, escaping from the feral projections, but now, with Nidhirv’s familiarity, a morbid curiosity froze him. Half-horrified, half-fascinated, unableto do anything but endure what was coming, Iravan watched as the projection blazed forward, carried on silver wings—
***
Nidhirv blinked.
Next to him, Vishwam was still talking to the council chair, a formidable wrinkled-face woman called Oma who always made Nidhirv feel like a child, no matter that he was nearly fifty now. Nidhirv tried to pay attention. To school his features into supporting Vishwam, knowing what Vishwam was asking. After all, his husband had practiced this very speech with him before. Yet Nidhirv couldn’t help the feeling of disassociation creeping through him. He was here, but had something happened in the last few minutes that he’d missed? These episodes of disconnection had grown more frequent, along with the pain in his chest. It was why he and Vishwam were here, petitioning Oma to change the rules surrounding the birthing ceremony.
“—is indeed sacred,” Vishwam was saying. He sat on the grass next to Nidhirv, his hand stroking Nidhirv’s knee, though his attention was on the council chair. Above, a lush banyan whispered in the wind, giving them shade. “Think about it, Oma. The Virohi are The Ones Who Are Ourselves. They exist in an unknown place, and we call them our precursors, but what do we truly know about them? We bring them into birth—”
Oma frowned, holding up a hand. “It is not our business to know who they are,” she said. “It is enough that they give us the power, and that we seek our yakshas to complete the circle of death and life.”
“It is this circle of death and life I want to preserve,” Vishwam said earnestly, his eyes glittering. “Would you not want to find Aditi in another life yourself? Would you not want to marry her again, and protect her? I know your love is strong.”
“Aditi is my life,” Oma replied. “But that is not how the cycle of rebirth works.” She cast a glance at Nidhirv, who stared back at her, trying not to blush. “Is this what this is about? Nidhirv, your sickness? And your grief, Vishwam, at losing him?”
“That is not what we’re discussing,” Vishwam said, but Oma’s eyes were full of sadness, directed at Nidhirv. She had seen through their subterfuge so easily. What was the point of denying it?
“How bad is it, my friend?” she asked softly.
“It is bad,” he whispered. “Every day it is worse. More painful. I do not have many days left.”
“Do not say that,” Vishwam said angrily, but Oma only shook her head in sorrow.
“I am sorry,” she said, sighing. “I truly am. You have had too little time with each other, but the other ashrams and elders would not agree. You are asking to change the very fabric of the ashrams, to have a choice regarding uniting with your yakshas. But this is not a choice an architect can have.”
“We—”
“No, Vishwam. Denying yourself completion will set the ashrams on an irrevocable path. You do not know what you are seeking.”
“We are seeking time with each other. Not just in this life, but every other.” Vishwam’s hand tightened on Nidhirv’s. “We will find each other, in every life—”
“You think you will be lovers in every life?” Oma said. “Even if you are reborn in the same era, there is no guarantee. Your life—the future life—will make its choices. You could be born years apart. You could be born in different ashrams. You could be unknown to each other, or perhaps parent and child, perhaps colleagues. What will you do then? Break every bond of society?”
“Of course not,” Vishwam replied. “Love comes in different forms, and we know better than to expect we will be lovers always. But ifwe had guarantee of finding something as sacred as we have now, wouldn’t that be its own adherence to our culture?”
“No,” Oma said. “It would not.”
She stood up, fury in her movements. Her piercing gaze ran over them.
“What you are contemplating is beyond horrific,” she said, her voice tight “Unity, balance, and return,theseare things that dictate our society. Not this evil idea you have of reaching beyond your life. Not this desire to set yourself above everything we know. Your love for each other cannot supersede the greater path of a consciousness returning to itself. It must not—otherwise everything we have done to bring the precursors into this world will be a crime against them, meant for our own selfish need for power. It would be a crime againstusand our halves that await us in the jungle. Abandon this path, Vishwam, and enjoy the time you and Nidhirv have with each other in this life. I will expect you to retire to the jungle when your time comes to seek your yaksha.”
The two watched her leave. Vishwam’s hand was clasped around Nidhirv’s so tight that it hurt, but Nidhirv did not say anything. He had known this would be the outcome. He had warned his husband.
Vishwam turned to him, scowling, as though hearing this thought. “Don’t you start that again.”
Nidhirv smiled tiredly. “I did not say anything.”
“You did not need to.” Vishwam brought Nidhirv’s hand to his mouth, in half-prayer half-promise. “There has to be a way. There has to.”
Nidhirv pulled his husband into an embrace, smelling his skin, and told himself this was enough. That Oma was right, and this one life was a gift. But as Vishwam leaned forward to capture his mouth, terror flew through him, for his inevitable end, to be separated from his husband, to never find him again.
***
And within the glittering maze, Iravan recoiled in shock.
The implications tumbled in his mind like debris in an earthrage. He could almost taste his husband from a lifetime ago.
It began with them, he thought in disbelief. Unity with a yaksha had been built into Nidhirv’s culture, but Vishwam had suggested a deviation—one that had ultimately led to the outlawing of Ecstasy and the repression of yakshas in the generations to come. One that had led to the oppression of the non-architects, the rise of earthrages, the total destruction of the planet, and eventually the rise of airborne ashrams. Nidhirv had neglected the falcon, creating Iravan’s life. All because he had been sick, and Vishwam had wanted more time with him.
