Page 107 of Torn

Presently, each person takes part in recapping the last four years to Love and Andrew. The Peaks. The mortal realm. Merry’s story. Anger’s story. The legends in between, linking and dividing them. Everyone has something to say, in their own words, from their own perspectives.

There’s shock. Learning that Merry had bequeathed her newly earned power to Love. Learning of the legendary loophole. Learning Love and Andrew can be immortal without harming the Fates, if they choose to.

If not, they will lose their memories once again.

There’s an intermission. A gap in time for the couple to decide.

The group gives them privacy. For a long time, Andrew and Love stare at one another, silently deliberating, talking in low tones. Decisions like this shouldn’t be made swiftly.

Unfortunately that gap in time has already begun to narrow, according to Wonder. They will only have between one sunrise and sunset to decide.

Yet they don’t need that long. Rather, they beckon the group back to them. They don’t want to lose their beloved mortals back home. Andrew’s stepfather. A bookshop keeper named Miss Georgie. Their friends, Holly and Griffin.

But they don’t want to lose their memories, either. And they won’t turn their backs on a battle to find peace between fate and free will. Love yearns to restore her calling. Andrew is selfless enough to choose this cause over living a human life, because he’ll always choose Love over anything else.

Their faces twist with guilt and grief. Love’s eyes glisten alongside Andrew’s, revealing the clash of joy and loss. Needing time alone, the pair abandons the hill and takes a private walk through the park.

Sorrow empathizes best of all. She predicts that it will be a while before they return. And she’s right.

When the couple rejoins the group, red stains the rims of their eyes, but the stress and anguish have receded a fraction for now. It will take countless sunrises and sunsets until the desolation ebbs—if ever.

They compensate for the sacrifice, the impending bereavement of family and friends, by vowing to write letters. Ambiguous but genuine words of farewell.

It’s the best they can manage. But at least they have the choice this time.

Love gives Merry the tightest, most grateful hug Anger has ever seen. Andrew does the same, then marvels at his hands, his fingers splayed before him. His brows furrow, perhaps having expected a flashing light or special effect. “Shit,” he jests sadly, trying to inflict humor into the situation. “I don’t feel remotely like Adonis.”

Love straps herself around him like a backpack. With her chest flush against his spine, she purrs a comforting offer into his ear. “Want some help fixing that?”

Andrew twists his head, nuzzles her, and whispers, “Hell, yeah.”

“Aww,” Merry gushes at the pair while nestled in Anger’s arms, his limbs flanking hers.

He whispers a mirthful prompt against her temple. “Just wait. Any moment Sorrow is going to—”

Sorrow groans. “Notaww. That’s calledeww.”

“Come now,” Envy coos. “Just because we don’t engage in public displays, it doesn’t mean they can’t. Besides, I’m finally entitled to this view.”

“Oh, get over yourselves,” Andrew drawls, his pale flesh splotchy while Love nips his lobe, their moods temporarily bolstered. “Nobody’s entitled to anything. Ever heard of working for what you get?”

Love chuckles, coming up for air. “Get used to him. He’s here to stay.”

“With pleasure, dearest.” Wonder interprets to Andrew, “It appears you haven’t inherited our immortal arrogance.”

“Neither have I,” Merry declares, rising from Anger’s embrace and straightening her shoulders. Her departure incites a protest from him, which her caress mollifies. “Call neither selfless Andrew, nor me, arrogant. I’m a noble outcast. I’m a lion-hearted heroine amidst the brave and rebellious.”

To Anger’s gratitude, she returns to him. Feeling sheepish and greedy, he spans her waist.

Their group segues. Their defiance has offended the Fate Court, to which Anger suspects the rulers might enjoy the satisfaction of retribution, if this group finds the means to pose a challenge at all.

Priorities, first. They cannot simply wage a battle; peace should be the primary goal. With both races susceptible to deterioration, they must learn how to preserve the lifecycle while also finding a new equilibrium between deities and humans.

If they succeed, and if the Fates nevertheless refuse to compromise…well, then.

To the Court, their lot will offer a provocative but futile fight. Another example to set before their people of what happens when their world is disrupted needlessly.

Either that, or their group will fail miserably before they’ve even begun.

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