Creusus's Arc

Chapter 13 of 21

Creusus found his voice. "Who are you, then. Say it clean." The seated man set his wrapped hands on his knees. He did not stand. "I am the piece that stayed," he said. "A knight came to this hall a thousand years back. Not the knight behind you. Another one, wearing the same plate, carrying the same blade, out of a road that ran beside yours and never touched it." Creusus glanced back. The knight held the small flame steady. The knight did not move. The seated man went on. "His sword struck me here, on this floor. The blow rang through me and split a piece off. That piece was you. The rift took the piece and threw it across into the road the other knight came from. You grew up there. You learned the post. You learned the linen from the old man at the docks. You did not know you had been cut off from anything." Creusus's hands stayed up. He lowered them a finger at a time. "And the knight at my back." "The same knight," the seated man said. "From the road you were thrown into. He followed you here because you struck him and the strike carried him the way the sword carried you. Two halves of one event, walking back to the room where it happened. You had to be aware. Both of you. That was the price of the door." Creusus stepped forward once. The floor held. He watched the seated man's chest rise and fall in the same rhythm as his own. He reached out and pressed two fingers to the linen at the seated man's knuckle. The linen was warm. The hand was solid. No illusion gave back heat like that. "You are real," Creusus said. The seated man nodded. "So am I," Creusus said. "Both of us, then." He drew his hand back. He turned to the knight. The knight tilted his helm a fraction. That was answer enough. Creusus faced the seat,”I have a bout to finish, send me back!”