From: prauda@dol-guldur.hut.fi (Kristiina Prauda)
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat
Subject: Castle: KATHREA'S STORY (PART 3)
Date: 11 Oct 92 16:52:05 GMT
Organization: Helsinki University, Finland




>Thus I was rapidly becoming both one of the strongest magicians that
>even walked our earth - and bored with my life. I wanted more spark,
>more excitement into my life, as if there were not enough! But I 
>felt neglected, unwanted and unlovely and wanted someone to prove me
>that I wasn't. And I soon found the spark I needed. 

We had a friend in the Academy, a fellow wizard named Ywarin. He had
been one of Soron's first study fellows, though he was a year or two
older than Soron. Ywarin was also very highly talented, estimated
to be the next strongest of the students after Soron, and their shared
love for the magic and their strive for perfection had made them
friends. It was a typical male friendship, where few words were 
exchanged except about their study subject - and that they might
discuss for hours and hours. They both loved theory and argument...
unlike me, to whom it seemed they never spoke or anything "real" at
all...

If Soron had not been absent so much, it might not have happened.
But he cannot be blamed: it was my boredom and need for love that
caused the worst to happen. The fact was only that Soron was not
there - he was again back at the court - but Ywarin was. And, not 
having stopped loving Soron, not at all, I still fell in love with 
Ywarin. 

I knew he thought me pretty, and good company, and we spent a lot
of time together. I learned that he was very romantic and emotional
and interested in many of the same things that I was. It was easy
to be with someone who so obviously adored me - easy to talk to him, 
easy to read him even to his innermost thoughts, easy to make him
understand me. We knew the same game of human relationships, spoke 
the same language, that of most people that I knew - which Soron 
from his part didn't do. Ywarin could read the hidden nuances in 
words right. It was a great pleasure - like dancing with someone
who knows the rhythm of the music and the steps instinctively after  
having dragged along with someone who still has to count every beat.

Finally, one stormy evening of late autumn, we drank too much wine
and fell into bed. I wanted someone to want me, love me, show me
how desirable I was - and I was encouraged to play the game, to 
flirt with him as much as I dared, because he followed my lead 
just as I wanted. Then, at some stage, he took the lead, and things
went to the bitter end. 

Afterwards, we were horrified and ashamed to death. But when I met
Soron again and confessed to him what had happened, mortally afraid
that he would leave me, he only laughed and said that it did not
matter; that it was all right. 

I was dumbfounded: "did not matter"? Did he not then love me, after 
all, if he was not the smallest bit jealous or hurt? Was I allowed to 
do anything I wanted, because in the end it had no importance whatsoever? 
Was he so much absent, because he really did not care? I was at a loss 
of what to think, what to feel, what to do. I needed some kind of a 
confirmation to my shattered self-esteem, I needed love, and security, 
and I did not know what was happening in my mind or my heart. I only 
knew I was desperate, helpless and confused and could not stand being 
alone with those feelings. 

So when Soron had to leave back to the court, I went to Ywarin 
again. For a day or two we had a wonderful time together, as if 
stepping into another reality, a reality that he molded according 
to my whims and wishes and emotion swings. There were no concerns 
there, only rest and ease and fun, the freedom of thoughtlessness. 
His every deed, every response followed my moods, so it is no wonder 
I was content.

For a day or two - no longer, for then I already cried after Soron. 
I loved him still, and missed him... his otherness from me, his
mystery, his sharp mind... we had grown together with him, we had 
learned so much of each other that even though we would never get
to the bottom of the riddle we saw in each other's eyes, we knew we 
were of the same substance, like the two sides of a coin, or the two 
ends of a staff. Always facing into different directions, yet 
inseparable...

But was it really so? Was I only clinging to him because I was 
unable to let go?  Was my true love in the ease of the emotional 
flow and the wild sensual passion with Ywarin? Or was I just 
searching for security out of Ywarin - an easy possibility, an easy
choice where I was not forced to grow, to question myself and 
develop further as a human being? Which was the truth? I did not
know. And I kept on asking these questions, since the simplest 
question - which one of them I truly loved - was unanswerable. 
I could not decide. I loved them both. I *needed* them both. 

And they tried to understand that. They really tried - for love of
me or for some other reason, I still do not know. Soron said that
I could keep my both relationships, since he was forced to be away
from the Academy so much, just as long as I was happy and would 
see him at the times he could come and visit. Ywarin believed me
when I said I could never leave Soron - as I knew was the truth - 
so he decided to be content with what I could give him. He was very
much in love with me, but he also felt guilty for Soron, for coming
between a friend and his girl. Not that Soron really saw it that 
way - he felt he had no right to dictate rules for me, but that was
what made me feel unsecure, uncertain of whether I mattered to him
at all, and that in turn made it even more impossible to let either
of them go. I needed them, desperately. 
 
After all those years I now think I see more clearly. I think I 
needed them for the same simple reason - the fear that Soron would
leave me. I could not stand the thought - I still loved him madly -
and I needed someone to comfort me in that fear. But by then I
truly believed I loved them both almost equally. And perhaps that
belief is more true, as it was then and there, than this wisdom of 
bitter years.