Why am I here?
She is asleep. This is when Patrick reflects. He was given the entirety of a book to understand why he made his decision. And, as usual, I am given nothing.
Why am I here?
Why am I here now?
To realize that she didn’t betray me. She meant to keep me from betraying myself.
She was afraid of what power would make us. Too much power for a man. Too much power for a tree.
But I and I is neither a man nor a tree. I and I is a moth. I and I is an angel.
A moth is a creature that creates its own winding-sheets.
An angel is a creature that falls from grace.
Why am I here?
Why did God create Lucifer?
Lucifer is not a team player. Lucifer wants to be loved more than God.
“Ash,” Tara murmurs. It isn’t a cry for reassurance. It’s a statement of fact.
“I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
An angel is a creature which falls over and over again. A moth contains the gnosis of its own rebirth.
She opens her eyes. She isn’t surprised to see me. Whatever she saw when she looked into the void at the center of I and I, it didn’t surprise her.
She gets out of bed, goes to that great and ancient chest of drawers in the corner. “I never gave this back to you,” she says.
It’s the book she gave Sloane, so long ago, the one she found in Cuinn’s room. Her tanzaku is still marking the page at “The Two Trees.”
“Lorcan,” she says, “Gaze no more in the bitter glass.”