I love you...
     I love you...
     I love...
     Golden strings move beneath his fingers, and it is as if he can hear his angel's voice, the refrain of a long lost Word, the buzz in the ear physical, and the sudden longing in the heart. His fingers move rapidly, pressing strings to fretwork, while the other hand poised above the luito's mouth beckons its voice...
     Its sweet voice...
     I love you....
     I love you...
     I love...
     It is a quick song, lilting song, beautiful song, ancient song, the first ballad of love, a swirling sound that harkens back to Babylon and Eden and before Babylon and Eden ever Were.
     I love you...
     I love you...
     I love...
     Since the disruption, he has been playing, dressed in pinks and whites, fully clothed, his blonde curls perfumed, and his golden eyes focused upon Nothing and Everything at once. His ears are full, heart is full, soul is full, so much that it must leak from his eyes.
     I love you...
     I love you...
     I love you...
     I love...
     Pharzuph's heart-shaped mouth, small and full, opens for a sigh, for a cry, for despair, for the prayer that leaves him. Such love, unconditional, such passion for the Idea, such longing for completion, like the songs of prayer over arabian sands it comes.
     We must go, we must go...
     We don't have long to linger...
     My love...

     The door swings open and Julian stands, face harried and eyes wide. He's been looking for you, and some relief washes over his face. There are no words for the music, no awareness of it. Julian looks left and right, then strides into the room, towards its center.
     "You need to go," Julian whispers hoarsely. He shakes his head absently, as if finishing a running conversation.
     "I have arranged money...for you. A vessel."

     His hands brush the neck and the music goes on without him. It swells within him even so. Disruption for disruption. He is shaken, as you. But Pharzuph rises, putting the instrument in its case. There are a few things gathered within it apart from the space for the lute. Things he left behind. Could he not have given warning?
     There must not have been time...
     "We need to go," he corrects, "What makes you think I am leaving with you, Ramariel..." The case closes and clicks. You are harried, but the captain is unusually calm. What good will panic do? If I die, will I not die? Will not love go on without me?
     "I am not leaving without you. I cannot do that," he is protesting. "We ... we can go now," he thinks, he hopes, "... we go to tether, there has to be one... somewhere for sanctuary..."

     The brows lift and fall. And Julian continues. "A zookeeper...London Zoo. And he is transferring to Paris this week. They will not think of that. No one will think of that." He pauses and looks up, "I don't what to know the details." In case a Balseraph - forbid a Seraph - asks. "You'll be safe."
     "The money is at the zoo, in the keeper's office. You'll find it."
     "I'm going," Julian says, violet eyes finally upturning, "...to The Bordello." Into the fray.

     "Safe?" He looks at you as though you've appeared in a pink bunny suit. "Safe."
     And then Pharzuph looks down to the instrument case and he falls silent. Resistant to the idea, in the fullest. He picks up the case. "It isn't about being safe," he murmurs. "What safety can their possibly be? For those who Love, and are left behind to find their own way. What safety in hell, what safety in heaven. He put his faith in God and spoke His Name. In the end, isn't that all there is? And yet, not even that is safe. How is ...a zookeeper in London or... wherever... *safe*? And what does that mean to me, when you will be very unsafe at the Bordello? And should I not also be there? Is my place not with you? Is my place not with Us?"

     "No," Julian objects, frowning as he steps forth. "No. No. There is no Us, don't you see?"
     "You...will go ahead. To Paris. And then...you can...follow Him if you want. You'll have a better chance of succeeding. I have friends on the Marches. In Nightmares. The list is with the money. They'll help you."
     "I'll go when you do. They'll come looking here, and we'll be gone. Both of us." On two different paths. "There will be nothing here. I'll go do," Julian shrugs, "...the unexpected."
     A rush of air. Hands at your shoulders. "There's no time for arguing either," Julian says softly. "They'll want the hands...to round up everyone," he nods, talking to himself, "...and I'll volunteer."
     "If you go to Paris, there are tethers. And you can have help. The Council itself, if you go to Notre Dame..."

     To have remembered....
     Just in time for Everything to change...
     Pharzuph nods, looking at your face, at and in your eyes and past them. Shock dissolves into planning, the last refrains of the song out of his ears. He nods again. "I will go ... now..."
     And will I see you in Paris, Ramariel?
     On the Marches...
     Or in limbo?
     Or ever...
     He must have wondered the same thing...
     He lifts a hand, he puts it gently to your face and he kisses you once, briefly. "I love you. Find me." And with the trailing touch, his hand falling away, Pharzuph turns to go. Follow me, he pleads. Even as his eyes plead such a case before, he pleas again. Follow me.
     "I can't go out the same way I came in," he tries a smile, recalling your mirrors, your reunion. "How... do I ... get to the zoo?" He has, in fact, never been outside this building.

     A scant pull of Julian's lips show his relief. "Here, to the Marches, then to the vessel. That will confuse them." This vessel, the one in use, will cease. "It will be in its office. There will be information on the desk. The money will tell you...who can be trusted. Tickets to Paris. From there..." he doesn't want to know. "You will...be successful. I know it." From that life, there are options. A vessel and a role, if desired. Or, tethers and links to make a fateful crossing, if you choose.
     "I'll deal with the vessel you leave," Julian whispers. The blonde he's come to know.
     There's no talk of Samantha or of the club. Of his millenia in this way. No discussions of Love, Lust, Right, or Wrong...or even that either of you shall meet again.
     Julian turns to see you. "Just sit down again," Julian whispers, "...and...Go..." A slipping away from a vessel. A Song sung. "You'll find the vessel's information near where you arrive, in the Marches. You will not need to look so far."

     Across the Symphony, another tone, half-off. A step mis-taken.

     "I can't leave this," he says of the instrument. "It is... Me. I can't leave it behind. It is... all I have..." A pause. "He left it for me... when he was here last. And ... other things. How will I get it back. I can't ... take it with me...." Just like the old adage: you might as well spend it, because you can't take it with you...
     Pharzuph narrows his eyes. "When you take care of this vessel, have Belinda ... courier this to the zoo. To the vessel's attention. It must come with me, Ramariel. You must promise me that." For I know you would never break your word to me.
     Pharzuph looks to it again, as if it were his child, and then tilts the case toward you, to leave it in your care. He doesn't say anything else. He sits down in the middle of the room, then lies down, curled up as he likes to sleep when he sleeps with you. Eyes open, he looks at you, and the vessel's eyes go from gold to brown with his departure...

     "She will," Julian murmurs. "It will reach you, I promise. Captain..."
      Julian takes a step back, hand drawing down the sides of his slacks. A wipe. He licks his bottom lip as he looks to the floor and exhales, then once more to you.
     He doesn't speak. He simply stares. A smile, but it is weak and soon falls away beneath tearing eyes that refused to drop crystal tears.
     Instead, Julian's hand lifts, fingers taut as he gives a single wave.

Posted by rowan at February 16, 2004 12:13 AM