“Hello, Jaru,” spoke the woman, looking around with a raised eyebrow. “It has been… a while.”
“Yes, it has, Mari’lore’ila,” Janus answered, bowing respectfully.
For a moment, the woman stared at him seriously, judging him as he had judged himself. But then Mari laughed, shaking her head.
“I could get exiled just for speaking to you, you know that?” she asked. “I’d end up the same as you.”
“If the Kr’akora ask you for a report of some kind, you can always say that I summoned you here. Against your will,” Janus offered with a shrug. “It is more or less true.”
“More or less,” mused Mari, walking slowly around Janus. “I must say, I was not expecting this. What purpose could you possibly have in this? I know you would not be here to turn yourself in, so…”
“Nothing, Mari. I… just want to apologize,” Janus replied, his gaze down, only taking the occasional glance up to make sure Mari was still there.
“For what?” she scoffed, before looking around, making sure the horizon was still clear. “You could apologize if this was something simple, like… petty thievery. But it’s not. It’s two counts of murder. And anyways, what does it matter? In the eyes of the Kr’akora, you have already admitted guilt by running away.”
“I know. But I had to,” Janus answered, his shoulders feeling ten times as heavy. “The Kr’akora would have executed me — now they only pursue me. And of course you know… I was not culpable for either the Scion’s… or Maester’s death.”
“And who was, Jaru?” Mari questioned, whipping around furiously. “Fate? Chance? I have not mentioned the culprit yet, I am certain. Then who?”
Janus paused for a moment, meeting Mari’s inquisitive glare with a weary expression of his own. Finally he sighed, and looked down. “I am bound by our laws… by respect not to say.”
Mari took this in for a moment, before nodding. “I figured as much. I see why you would have fled rather than… make that accusation. But you are not here to make a confession. I can see it. There is something more. Tell me, before someone inevitably comes calling and I am forced out of this mindscape.”
“I have had a… a revelation. I am sorry. Not just for what happened with the Scion and Maester,” Janus added quickly. “No. I am here to say I am sorry for refusing your offer. For refusing to join the Kr’akora with you, and instead choosing the path that I did. I am sorry if… you took it as a rejection of our friendship, and I want to assure you it was not meant as such. Even if I cannot fault you for taking it that way.”
“Why wouldn’t you be sorry, Jaru?” Mari asked sharply, with what could almost be called a sneer, if such a thing was not uncharacteristic of their people. “Look how far you have fallen ever since.”
She paused for a moment, careful not to raise her voice too much, and then sighed, lamenting, “If you had joined us, you would not be here, in this situation. Things would be simpler. Not that I regret what has happened in my life since, but… things are emptier here without you.”
“On the contrary. I’m sure things are livelier, by far. The Kr’akora, no doubt, will be vigilant. They will take more relish in their work with a… ‘criminal’ loose. The Scions will be hard at work designing things to find me, so innovation has been sparked. The Creators will have… a message to speak of. They’ll show the virtues of being, well, not me,” Janus hypothesized, with a sly smile. “Things must certainly be better with an enemy. To fight, to find… to, in short, hate.”
When Mari did not reply, Janus asked, concerned, “Am I wrong?”
“No, no, you are… you are right. Just… I miss you. I think we all do, in our own way. Are you safe?”
“Indeed. I am… secure for the moment.”
“Where?”
Janus chuckled — a short and brief laugh. “Perhaps you should have spent more time on Interrogation, Mari. I am smarter than that.”
“I know,” Mari grumbled, pacing back and forth in the hazy, purple void. “By the Dragons, if you were here, I might just strangle you for being so difficult.”
“Oh, please, forgive me, Sergeant,” Janus apologized jokingly.
“It’s Lieutenant, now, actually,” Mari answered, tapping a charm on her necklace.
“Oh. Congratulations,” Janus commended, the edges of his mouth perking up in a slight smile. “Anyways, I just want you to know that… it might be all the better that I am out here. In the world.”
“Is it really?”
“Yes. These humans, they are so different. Chaotic. So unlike home, Mari. So unlike our people”
“Hmm.”
“Some of them welcomed me into their home, in fact. It’s fascinating. They had no obligation to me, yet invited me in all the same.”
“Now why would they do such a thing?”
Janus smiled. “I could not say, Mari. If things ever get better, or if things ever get worse, I shall have to tell you of these people. The son, with a creative mind beyond his years. The daughter, with a pride befitting hers. The charitable mother and the irascible father. It’s a small miracle I still have a place here. And before you or any of the Kr’akora get ideas, I fully intend to get out of their way before long. It would be wrong of me to overstay my welcome.”
Mari nodded, her eyes smiling where her lips did not. “So you’re going to keep running.”
“I can do more good out here, Mari. There’s a whole world out here. A world that I can bring a little light into. Do more good than I could at home.”
“Hmm. Well, I would wish you the best of luck, Jaru, but that would be contrary to the Kr’akora’s goals,” Mari answered. “We will hunt you. And for that reason I hope you enjoy the human world, while you can.”
“Farewell, Mari,” said Janus, bringing his second and fourth fingers together, lowering the rest, placing his hand on his heart, and bowing. “Until we have need of one another again.”
“Until we have need of one another again, Jaru,” Mari repeated, performing the same gesture, before dissolving in an unseen wind. Janus watched her disappear, before looking around for his Maester. Yet he found himself totally alone, confused for a moment, before he smiled.
“Farewell to you, too, Maester. Wherever you are,” Janus called out, only marginally sure he wasn’t talking to himself.
