Alluvion

[Patricus I]

Need was unreliable, he agreed. Something about this instance, though, carried Nimeda to a place of answers. Thalia Milton., he recalled the name. Upon waking, he would have her found, but then what? He anticipated Thalia would not understand the purpose nor recall their present dream. He knew nothing of this place between waking and sleeping that she described. Truth was unlikely to exist there, as it was unlikely to rest in man at all. Comfort was a plush bed for sin to slumber.

“The world is a place that runs from sacrifice and escapes suffering at all costs,” he said. It wasn’t evil that drove a girl to bring joy to others, as displaced as her desires were. However, that didn’t make it right. “You said to be wary of the dream as it may take us to the wrong need. I say be wary of your own desires, because whatever it is that is valued most must be denied. No one leisure is evil in and of itself, but when pleasures and comforts rule your future, you cease to seek the truth waiting in between your flesh” he pointed at the picture momentarily before fixing his gaze upon her, ”and your soul.” Thalia and Nimeda; Noctua and Philip; Patricus I and nobody.

Who are we? For what purpose are we born? He doubted the answers waited In Between no matter what truths she claimed to slumber there forever. The truth was shocking to those who were uncomfortable hearing it. When he took up her hand, it wasn’t to dissect the truth of the branding, but to impart a wisdom to someone far greater than he. Almost as if he needed her to hear what he was to say. To accept it: She was a powerful person fully capable of divining the answers to her own need. ”I see that your journey is not that you have asked for too much. It is that you have been satisfied with too little.” The smile that followed was one of mournful joy, the kind that hoped she would accept. He was not immune to these whims either. Who am I? For what purpose was I born? Nor would he seek them, as his journey would end irrespective of the answer. He listened to many. He absolved them all. He was second only to Him who was the answer.

When he dropped to his knees, it was while still clinging to her palm. The emotion that bricked his lids tightly closed was softly vulnerable and yet the face that angled toward hers was fiercely guarded. Hers may have been the palm of Holy Virgin. The last time the dream changed for him was out of desire to reveal himself. Now, it came from a desire to reveal a truth for which he was not the keeper. ”I give my need to you,” he said with the earnestness of a demand expected to be granted. Though he clung to Nimeda, the demand repeated itself, ”I give my need to you,” he said. While it was unclear to whom the admonishment was addressed, it was surely meant for one far greater than he.