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But as much as the idea of oblivion appealed, there was something else.
The memories of Ceara.
Our conversations, the soft touch of his hand, the warmth in his eyes.
To erase all that seemed like a betrayal, even more profound than any I had committed.
Was all the hurt and pain worth losing those precious few memories?
“No,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “I don’t want to forget.”
The Supervisor sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Very well. I thought I’d offer.”
He pressed a button on his desk, and within moments, his assistant, a tall figure with green scales, entered. “Take Ms. Ellie to the shuttle,” he ordered, not sparing me another glance.
I hesitated. “What will happen to Ceara now?”
The Supervisor looked up, his eyes cold. “He will… serve his purpose.”
The vagueness of his reply sent shivers down my spine.
With a heavy heart, I followed the assistant out, the weight of my choices and the memories I chose to keep pressing down on me.
* * *
The ship vibrated softly, sending rhythmic shivers through its metal walls as it hurtled through the void of space.
Outside, a sea of stars twinkled, their bright and bluish hues blurring into streaks as the spaceship moved at a speed incomprehensible to my Earthly understanding.
The beauty of the expanse clashed sharply with the turmoil inside my heart.
The Supervisor’s assistant, a tall creature with shimmering green scales, sat at the cockpit, the multiple screens casting a luminescent glow upon his angular face.
He didn’t glance back at me, and his concentration seemed wholly devoted to piloting the ship.
Occasionally, the sound of soft beeping or the faint hiss of some machine adjusting itself filled the cabin.
Resting on the plush seat, I took in the various scents.
It was as though they tried to replicate Earth’s sea breeze, and almost succeeded.
Every inhalation was a reminder of the home planet I was returning to and the world I was leaving behind, with all its entanglements and regrets.
Guilt was a heavy weight in my stomach, making the soft fabric of the ship’s seat feel scratchy and uncomfortable beneath me.
Memories of Ceara’s kind eyes and gentle touch surged back, amplifying the soreness of my betrayal.
And the worst part was the conviction that even if he knew what I had done, he wouldn’t have blamed me.
He would have said it was my ticket out of Ikmal and I would have been a fool not to take it.
In his place, I would’ve drowned in resentment and anger, but Ceara?
He’d probably just wear that soft, forgiving look that had become so familiar in our short time together.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the memories.
The faint taste of salt — whether from my tears or the replicated sea breeze, I couldn’t tell — lingered on my lips.
