Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 32

I put to bed the notion that this can be fixed. As the dream ends, as I lie in the aftershock, I commit his words to memory and close the door on that part of my life. If I wish to be without him, he wishes to remain there. 

What happens to me in that room, that night is a transformation of sorts. I step out of the man that was 'Nic' and step into the role of the formal 'Nicolas'. I put 'Nic' in the closet with 'Young Nicolas' and lock the door, sealing it up as parts of myself that I don't wish to revisit. 

While I don't know if I will be the same, what has been reborn will be stronger and more independent, and I promise myself that I'll be fine on my own.

Days roll by, and I begin to heal; I begin to recognize myself again. Without him in front of me, it's easier to think about what pulls us together. My dreams slowly become my own, I see him less and less though he never speaks to me again as he did that night. 

I have my hard limits, as he likes to call them, and this is one of them. As the days become weeks, I stop thinking about him so much. I stop wondering what he's doing, if he's alright, I find solace in the fact that if I'm alive he must also be and for now, that is enough. I begin to see a glimmer of happiness, I begin to rebuild a fraction of what I had.

It helps that I have plenty to do; I throw myself into my work, which is my true passion. Doing what I came here to do, doing what I was meant to do, doing what I'm now required to do becomes what consumes every moment of my conscious life, for sleep is something I avoid at all costs.

 It's a tireless job that seems to have no end, where I thought we could reset the planet, things are not always as they appear. As strained as that relationship can be, I work with Rhea to track the weather patterns and look back over the years at what the planet should be doing. 

Not only are we behind schedule, but it's also hard to convince the clouds to move in a way that makes sense. I am, but one small point and all surrounding us refuse to fall into place. They rebel, escaping back into unnecessary flood zones and anchoring there like lost sheep. I am but a shepherd for lazy vapor but it's satisfying work when I begin to see my first indications of green.

We bring in farmers, we bring in plants from the vast overgrowth of forgotten states, and jobless civilians begin to plant, grow, and tend to tender new crops. Hope blooms as life begins to flourish once more. There is something very satisfying about doing what I was made to do.

 Maybe that can be enough?  

With the need for support comes plenty of practice for Tyler and I hope to make him as versatile as I am, my desperate need for children filled with Tyler. I can pass on my knowledge to him, I can try him, I can make him better than me.  I drown myself in research as I devote myself to him and his training on top of my duties as a 'miracle worker.'

We start as early as we can, often before the sun comes up, and I find every day, I spend less and less time looking at that side of the bed where I would see so much warmth and comfort. I feel as though I've aged, and matured beyond the need for such things. 

Each small victory spurs me to push, to climb, to try harder to reach a whole new type of release. Success is the ultimate drug; doing what a solomonari is meant to do feels good. It feels cleansing to my burnt and tired soul; once I stopped treating this like a war, it became so much more than a mission. 

I've found a family in my warlord look-alikes, Gary isn't easy to deal with, but I've adopted the nature of those around me, and we just stop talking about the silence that looms when he's around. I've found a sense of peace in adopting my new title as an eco-warrior. 

As David Malcom makes my speeches for me and assures the people that we are doing everything we can and that we will win this, I find that I'm at my most content when I'm out of the limelight and I can hide away in my own world.