there had been a child desperate to find his place in the world. there had been another in the house of daena standing aside from his cohort, a single bird excluded from the flock. perhaps it had always been kaveh's fate, kaveh realises, to see the loneliness in others and to want desperately to respond in kind. the pain, the sorrow, the grief. wasn't it kaveh who said it to midnight, that they didn't ever grow up from their mistakes, just grew into the best shape to carry them forward? but wasn't it netzach who said so, that if loving someone wasn't a miracle, then he didn't know what is?
you can be both the grief and the love. kaveh's known that for a long time. his mother had been both. so had he. so had alhaitham, who had watched his grandmother die. so had this young man. he merely remembered the grief, not the love, because the body wasn't meant to carry the shape of a love that hurt so much. midnight had been wrong after all. love did hurt, but not because it wanted to. but because it needed to be remembered.
sorry, the young man says. kaveh holds him there, his hand carding through the young man's hair. kaveh says, ]
It's alright, Wanderer. [ soft as dust. soft as dust. ] You're not alright, but you will be.
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there had been a child desperate to find his place in the world. there had been another in the house of daena standing aside from his cohort, a single bird excluded from the flock. perhaps it had always been kaveh's fate, kaveh realises, to see the loneliness in others and to want desperately to respond in kind. the pain, the sorrow, the grief. wasn't it kaveh who said it to midnight, that they didn't ever grow up from their mistakes, just grew into the best shape to carry them forward? but wasn't it netzach who said so, that if loving someone wasn't a miracle, then he didn't know what is?
you can be both the grief and the love. kaveh's known that for a long time. his mother had been both. so had he. so had alhaitham, who had watched his grandmother die. so had this young man. he merely remembered the grief, not the love, because the body wasn't meant to carry the shape of a love that hurt so much. midnight had been wrong after all. love did hurt, but not because it wanted to. but because it needed to be remembered.
sorry, the young man says. kaveh holds him there, his hand carding through the young man's hair. kaveh says, ]
It's alright, Wanderer. [ soft as dust. soft as dust. ] You're not alright, but you will be.
You will be.