I pressed my palms against the cool stone, grounding myself in its ancient solidity. "I say they've never felt what I feel when he trusts me with his surrender. Never experienced the kind of recognition that makes you understand why the old texts speak of souls finding their other half."
"Then perhaps your mentors lack the wisdom they claim to possess."
The gentle criticism surprised me. Callis spoke without rancor, but with the quiet confidence of someone who had learned to trust his own experience over others' expectations.
"You sound as though you speak from knowledge," I said.
"I do." He turned to face me fully, and I saw something in his expression that reminded me of Rion when he'd first begun to trust—vulnerable but determined. "The scholars of Aerius aren't so different from the militants of Korrath in some ways. Both Orders teach discipline over feeling, duty over desire. Both struggle to understand that some truths can only be learned through the heart."
"But surely the pursuit of knowledge requires?—"
"Balance," Callis interrupted gently. "Not the elimination of feeling, but the integration of it. Elyon's followers understand this. They know that love illuminates rather than blinds, that passion can lead to wisdom just as surely as contemplation."
I stared at him, pieces of understanding beginning to shift in my mind like fragments of a puzzle finding their proper places. "You're saying my Order has taught me to fear the very thing that might make me a better scholar."
"I'm saying that perhaps true wisdom comes from embracing all aspects of yourself, not just the ones that fit comfortably within institutional boundaries."
The words hit me with the force of revelation. How many years had I spent trying to compartmentalize my nature, treating intellectual pursuits as noble and emotional ones as base? How much energy had I wasted fighting instincts that might actually serve my calling rather than hinder it?
"Tell me about the day you decided to stay," I said impulsively. "When you chose your bond over your duties."
Something flickered across his features—not pain, exactly, but the echo of a decision that had cost him dearly. "What makes you think it was a single day, a single moment?"
"Because that's how such things are described. The moment of choice, the instant when duty yields to love."
Callis laughed, but the sound held more understanding than amusement. "Stories make everything seem simpler than it actually is. The truth is messier, more complex."
"Then tell me the messy truth."
He was quiet for so long I thought he might refuse. When he finally spoke, his voice carried thecadence of someone sharing something precious and fragile.
"I left first. Completed the bond, underwent the severance ritual, boarded a ship bound for home. I told myself I was honoring my obligations, returning to my proper place."
"But you came back."
"I came back." His smile was soft, touched with wonder even now. "But not because of a single moment of clarity. Because of a hundred small moments, a thousand tiny recognitions. The way food tasted like ash without him. The way sleep brought only dreams of what I'd lost. The way every sunset reminded me of his eyes."
My chest tightened with recognition. Even now, with five days remaining in our bond, I could feel the edge of such desperation creeping closer. The thought of waking without Rion's warmth beside me, of eating meals unshared, of returning to the hollow routines that had once felt meaningful—it was unbearable.
"How did you know?" I pressed. "How did you know it was worth risking everything?"
"I didn't," he said simply. "I still don't, not in the way you mean. Knowledge implies certainty, and love offers none. What I had was faith—not in outcomes, but in the truth of what I felt."
"Faith." I tasted the word, finding it strange on my tongue. "Not a scholarly virtue."
"No. But perhaps that's the point."
We sat in silence for a while, the temple's peace settling around us like benediction. Somewherenearby, voices rose in gentle hymn, praising Elyon's gifts to mortal hearts. The words seemed to echo in my chest, resonating with the bond that linked me to Rion even across the distance.
"I should return to my duties," I said finally, though I made no move to rise. "There are texts to translate, theories to examine."
"There are," Callis agreed. "But perhaps today you might consider examining the theory closest to your heart."
"Which is?"
"That love and wisdom need not be enemies. That a bond which transforms you might be precisely what your Order needs, even if they don't yet understand it."
I stood slowly, legs stiff from kneeling on stone. The morning light had shifted, painting new patterns across the temple floor, and I realized I'd been here longer than intended. Rion would be expecting me soon, and I found myself eager to return to him despite the uncertainty that still clouded my thoughts.
