DUSKLIGHT ODYSSEY

Chapter 19

"Comfort" was a concept Ion now realized he'd never truly known. Curled upon the bed of soft skins, warmed by the crystal's caressing glow, Ion gained new insight into what it meant to be comfortable. He wished that he could lay there forever, feeling what he felt. The aches and anguishes of his journey to arrive in that place had no power there, as if the crystal's light cast a radius of protection against all memories of ailments.

Naim let out a long sigh, exhaling all her stressors as she, too, curled herself on her nest of skins, opposite Ion's. "Wow," was all she could say.

"Wow," Ion echoed.

"This place is incredible. I can't believe it—the painting... Simeon... all these people living here in the mountain... how is it possible, Ion? How has Simeon been here for two hundred years, waiting for us? Specifically us?" Naim's voice was full of wonder.

"I can hardly believe it myself," said Ion. "And in that drawing... or, the painting... your hair, it's white." The notion was far from comforting to Ion. Rather, it disturbed him.

Naim opened her mouth to reply, but found no response.

"How did Simeon's dream predict that? How could it possibly predict that you..." That you would die. Ion thought it, but the words stuck to the back of his throat.

"...I don't know," Naim meekly said. "It must've been part of the plan."

"The plan? What do you mean 'the plan?' Whose plan?"

"There's got to be a plan. The plan of whoever or whatever gave us those dreams, those revelations."

Ion turned away. "I haven't had a dream," he said.

"I have. Simeon has. And they line up. There's a plan."

"And what, this 'plan' of yours made your arms burn to a crisp? Made you... die?" Ion whispered the last word. "Like you didn't have a choice? Nothing could've prevented it? Because of this 'plan?'"

"Maybe. I don't know." Naim's voice wobbled with unsurety. She stared at her arms in the crystal's warm glow; red, wrinkled, puffy skin arching as lightning all along them from her elbows to her palms. Then she looked to Vio, lying on the floor beside her. "But isn't there a comfort in that? What if the plan says we're supposed to succeed? What if everything is meant to be okay in the end?"

Ion was silent for a while, before quietly saying, "Depends on the planner. What else are they going to let happen? What happens to us when the plan is over?"

Now it was Naim's turn to be silent. There was nothing left for either of them to say.

Ion changed the subject. "Don't tell anyone about what happened in the church."

Naim was surprised by the demand. "Why?"

Ion turned his head back toward her. "You don't know what people might be willing to do to get back someone they love."

Naim shook her head. "Simeon is a good person."

"Maybe he is," said Ion. "But you don't know it. And who knows who's listening?"

She shook her head again. "These are all good people. They took us in, they fed us, they gave us this room. I know that."

"I'm talking about deep down. You never really know someone." Ion's tone was grave.

"Well I don't 'really' know you, do I?" Naim snapped back.

The words stung.