Dying Fire

Chapter Six

“Perhaps I know best

Why it is man alone who laughs;

He alone suffers so deeply

That he had to invent laughter.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche~

Araine continually quotes teachings of the Eternal Flame and what Madline’s told her, but to no end. Whenever she thinks she has a point that can’t be reputed, Calex counters with something she has no idea how to respond to.

            As the conversation continues, both of their excitement seems to leak out of them. For Calex, simple logic destroys what the Eternal Flame is based on, and merely reinforces his previous thoughts on them. For Araine, it’s everything she has lived by being twisted into something other than what it truly is. Still, they can’t help but see the other’s side of these consecutive debates, both the logical and spiritual.

            “Do you have anything else, or are we done for today?” Calex teases lightly, not really a part of the conversation but more of a voice for a mind that’s fast-tracked to keep up with it.

            Stubbornness wrestles meekness, the girl wanting to give up but refusing to do so. “No. There’s plenty more.” she grinds out, but her irritation only annoys the boy.

            “I have…” he begins, pausing as his expression falls into that of guilty determination, “things to do.” He won’t look at her. “Don’t forget there’s someone that needs that medicine you’re withholding, and they won’t get better by us sitting here talking about the Eternal Flame all day.”

            Rather than be insulted by this, as she had been earlier on in the discussions, she feels only concern for him. He’s right, of course. Them talking all day won’t help whoever it is that’s dying, someone who must be extremely important to him, so much so that he was going to steal from her before…

            The expression on his face, the guarded tone to his voice, the words he spoke. The connections hit Araine like a tidal wave: all at once, jolting her into alertness and out of her thoughts. “Calex…” she ventures, drawing his attention to focus on her. “What, exactly, do you have to do today?”

            His jaw clenches, and he stares directly in front of them, quiet for several seconds, then he says in an ominous tone, words charged with underlying meaning, “What I do every day. What else?”

            Though he tries to sound dangerous, Araine hears sadness in his voice. She grasps his hand lightly, but he snatches it away, glaring at the ground in front of them. Not knowing what else to do, she reaches back to the teachings of the Eternal Flame – not to continue the previous conversation, but in search of something that will help him, perhaps comfort him.

            Finally, she finds one that has potential. Closing her eyes, hands clasped in her lap, she recites: “A person polished by the flames of pain is more beautiful in any state, than an innocent that hasn’t a blemish on their skin.”

            There’s no obvious sign from Calex that her words ease his inner turmoil somewhat, or even that he had heard her. Araine waits with her eyes closed, not knowing what to expect but hoping for the best.

            His response follows the rhythm of their previous conversation, but now his words ring with the hollowness of the hopeless, believing the words he says more than simply saying them in order to contradict her. “What if I was burned by this fire, engulfed by them in the greatest physical pain anyone has ever known? Would I be beautiful then, or would who I really am show on the outside, the ugliness within revealed?”