When Ikaris awoke on the Domo, there was an irresistible pull on his heart. He didn’t know what it meant, had never before felt the like. But as he looked out from the window bay, staring past stars to see the planet that would be their new home, the pull grew stronger. He turned, and saw her.
Her armor was green and silver, bright against the darkness of her hair, starlight lifting her features and reflecting in the depths of her eyes. She was fair beyond description, and he was reminded of distant galaxies and nebulae, the beauty of the very universe present in her face. When she spoke, her voice rang as a clear bell.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, and he couldn’t help but agree.
From that moment, his spirit bent towards hers, heart beating for her alone. But he was wary of the distraction she posed and held himself back with an iron will, mind fixed on upholding his duty to the people of Earth. For Arishem had decreed they must be protected, and so must be his focus.
Centuries passed in a blaze, Sersi growing more lovely with each moment. She had a simple, uncomplicated view of the world, taking pleasure in ordinary days spent among the humans, and yet her joy was unmatched. The direction of her gaze would cause him to follow it, to look anew, and sometimes he would catch flashes of the beauty she seemed to find in every facet of their lives.
The sun always shone on Sersi, bestowing an everlasting glow upon her and those she touched, and he basked in her company. It was an easier life, untroubled by wars and weapons, devastations and Deviants, for as a Thinker, Sersi’s duty was to love. And she fulfilled it with pure, straightforward happiness, rejoicing in each day as it dawned.
Time with her was a reprieve from the heavy obligations he carried, though he was always conscious, too conscious, of what he was allowing himself to be distracted from. First and foremost he belonged to Arishem, but Sersi’s hold on him was little less.
And when she danced, face aglow with laughter, he could almost forget the rest of the world.
Ajak knew of his feelings; he had not attempted to hide them, knowing he could put the entire mission at risk. He was ashamed of the weakness of his heart, striving against his nature to hold himself apart from Sersi. Ajak observed his struggle, seeming proud of his ability to abstain, until one day, without warning, she reconsidered.
He struggled to take her at her word; so long had he spent fighting against his urges that to give in to them now was almost unthinkable. The eagerness, the ease with which he gave himself over to Sersi scared him, for having had a taste of delight in his life with her, he did not know how he had ever refrained in the first place.
She was summer mornings and fireflies at dusk, sunlight glinting off the waves of the sea. She was a warm puff of breeze over the hills, bringing the scent of flowers, or new leaves budding in the spring. She was everything good and bright, and he loved her so deeply the root of it could never be found. Life with Sersi was sheer perfection.
In the blink of an eye, their uncomplicated happiness came to an end. A paltry few decades after he had put aside his concerns over his devotion to Arishem, Ajak came to him with a secret - the true fate of this world they were protecting. The fate that would darken the heart of Sersi, casting her into despondence.
His heart was being torn in two. Sersi was the sun, the moon, and all the stars, and each moment with her was a blessing he would cherish always. But he must remain devoted to Arishem, for it was Arishem that gave him the very breath in his lungs. He could not give himself over to his love in completeness, for to do so now would be to risk their mission. Sersi could not be allowed to know.
Loving her became a beautiful cataclysm.
For two thousand years Ikaris waited, bound by his oath to Arishem, burdened to see their mission through to its end. Every day he told Sersi he loved her, and he choked back the other words, words that would make her hate him. Every day he lied to her face, feeling another piece of him crack off. And he knew, one day, there would be nothing left, nothing left to give her. Only dust.
Holding himself back from her like this took strength he did not know he had. They were meant to be open with each other, their love honest and pure, a truth he was sullying with his every word and action. Every step he took was one further away from the rightness of their relationship, one more sin against his very soul.
He thought, sometimes, of running away, of leaving everything behind. If only, if only he could forget, forget Arishem and Ajak and the Emergence, forget Sersi and his betrayal. Days passed, each one aching like an old bruise, yellowing and sickly. Each falsity was spit from his tongue like acid, burning his lips. But he smiled nevertheless, for she could never be allowed to see his pain.
When the Deviants had at last been slain, had perished from the world, the Eternals would have to remain, lingering on the planet until the Emergence could take place. He wondered how Ajak would explain this to them, since their ostensible purpose would be fulfilled. How much longer would it be before the world finally ended, their mission discharged? How much longer would he be asked to protect the humans, protect the Eternals? It seemed an eternity he had been living this lie, day after day blackening his heart further.
After years that each felt like millennia, at last, their original goal was met. Deviants had been eliminated from the Earth, rendering them that much closer to the Emergence and the true completion of their duty. But the moment of triumph was marred by Druig, turning against the group and rejecting them.
How dare he question Ajak, question Arishem. They could not be allowed to go against their leader; everything they had, everything they were, they owed to their god, and must repay it by honoring Arishem’s edicts, as laid out by Ajak. Druig’s rebellion must be put to rest immediately, else others were led astray.
But Ajak stepped forward, eyes flashing, and commanded them to stop. Ikaris looked at her for a long moment, jaw clenched, not understanding the order. But he could not very well disobey, lest he fall to the same depths as Druig.
Inexplicably, the traitor was allowed to leave unchallenged, unscathed. For the first time, Ikaris doubted Ajak’s judgement, a doubt that was increased moments later when she spoke again. She dismissed them all, telling them to go find their place, find their own stories in this world.
He couldn’t bear it. If Ajak didn’t need them together, then he had no excuse for remaining with Sersi. Hiding things from her, giving her untruths or falsehoods or careful pretenses, was wrong, he felt it deeply. At the very roots of his being was the incontrovertible truth that they were meant to be as one, minds and hearts open to each other. Going against that brought him pain, each and every time he had been forced to do so.
He had been given a reprieve now, a way to put an end to his dishonorable conduct. But it would cost him everything.
That night, in the temple, above the burning ruins of a city, Ikaris cursed all the heavens and Earth for giving him this unendurable choice. To stay, to lie again and again as his conscience withered and his willpower decayed, one day to finally break his silence despite all his efforts. Or to go, to consign himself and his love to melancholy and misery, but keep the secret safe, buried inside, unable to be revealed by his unwilling lips.
She could not be allowed to know.
And so he left Sersi behind him, and it felt as though he had ripped out his still-beating heart and left it at her feet. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, and he prayed to Arishem that he made the right choice, that Sersi would recover.
It was too late to go back.
His only consolation was that one day, the Emergence would come, and they could start over somewhere new. Though his pain felt unending, it would someday be erased entirely, not even existing in his darkest dreams.
And it was worth it, to spare Sersi. The knowledge of the truth of their mission would crush her, he knew; she held each human dear to her, and their eventual fate would break her heart. So he chose to break her heart in another way, instead, telling himself that it was the lesser of two evils.
That such a choice would have to be made was heartbreaking in itself, and Ikaris wondered spitefully if Ajak had known what she had done to him, what she had ruined. She asked him to keep a promise of silence that she herself had not kept, though the asking was even greater of him, and he hated her for it.
Which is why, when she at last admitted she had turned from Arishem’s path, he did not struggle. She had lost his goodwill centuries before, though he cleaved to her with bitter loyalty; now, at the revelation of her heresy, his mind was clear. Arishem’s will would not be forgotten, no matter Ajak’s newfound doubts. Ikaris would see to it.
When he descended to the ice below and lifted her crumpled body, he allowed himself a moment of sorrow. Not for the woman in his arms, no, but for the person she might have been, the person she had been before her eyes had been clouded, before she had opened his mind to secrets he was not meant to know. And he mourned also for himself, and Sersi, and their forgotten love that would never now come to its rightful end.
He was filled with a surprising peace at the knowledge that the Emergence was nigh. Naught but a few sunsets remained until all would be put to right, and they could go, free of this planet and its temptations.
But Ajak had one last treachery to visit upon him. When the time came for her to choose the succeeding Prime Eternal, in all her wisdom and her malice, she appointed Sersi.
Sersi, who went face to face with Arishem, and returned, blessed with the benediction of knowledge, of understanding, of their true purpose on Earth.
All his sacrifice, for nothing. He had given up everything to make sure that she would never have to know what was coming, would never have to make that terrible choice. And now Ajak, who had already cursed him with this knowledge, had laid her curse upon Sersi, too.
Ikaris wished he could kill Ajak again, just for that. She had seen how the knowing had weighed so heavily on his shoulders, and yet she still placed that very same weight on the slender Sersi, a burden too great for her gentle heart to bear. Sersi was never meant to know.
Screams built inside him, aching to be let out through clenched teeth. The pressure of his agony engulfed him, demanding all his effort to restrain. Five hundred years of torture, of watching his dearest love from a distance, unable to go to her. Five hundred years of watching Sersi’s fear turn to sadness, which in turn faded to ambivalence. She had moved on, but he never could, clinging to the shreds of the past with trembling fingers.
All for naught. Ajak had ruined his sacrifice, just like she had ruined everything else, and Ikaris would never forgive her.
He had hoped the others would run out the clock, grasping for solutions that slipped through their fingers again and again. After all, the Emergence was inevitable; they would come to realize that before the end. He would watch over them all to ensure the Deviants posed no threat, but otherwise, would not participate.
Phastos surpassed his expectations, brilliance undimmed by years among the humans, creating a breath of hope for the others to cling to. So Ikaris took a stand, vowing openly his commitment to Arishem, and broke the final remaining bonds to his family. It was the continuation of a decision already long made, but the telling of it still hurt; Sersi in tears once more, Kingo disbelieving, appalled.
Flying to the island, where at last this would come to a close, he felt no sorrow, only conviction. Naught but a few hours remained, though they promised to be the hardest he had faced in living memory. But the strength of his faith in Arishem bolstered him, keeping his mind clear and focused.
Until the final moment was upon him at last, and he faced a challenge beyond any he had foreseen. Sersi stood before him, intent on killing the Celestial, and he was bound to stop her by any means.
And yet, he couldn’t do it.
He was weak, craven, a failure. Centuries before, he had been forced to choose between his greatest love and his life’s purpose, and had decided then. The importance of his mission, of the billions upon billions of lives who depended on him, must outweigh his personal feelings. He had clung to that decision with grim determination.
Yet here he was, at the one moment that mattered above all others, the single instant where the fate of worlds hung in the balance, and his conviction was wavering.
He didn’t see his foe, bent on killing the Celestial he had sworn to protect. No, all he saw was her. Sersi, his heart and soul.
He would do anything to make her look of pain, of betrayal, disappear. His Sersi should never know anything but joy, and the fact that he himself was responsible for her distress was too much to bear. He wished more than anything that he had never known about the Emergence, that he had never been asked to make this impossible choice.
If his heart had been rent asunder when he left Sersi the first time, it was being shattered now, this final time he returned to her. His breath left his lungs in a long exhale, hope fleeing his body with it. He tried in vain to remember Arishem, remember his purpose, but with Sersi in front of him, that purpose seemed so very far away.
She closed her eyes now, knowing the futility of fighting him, accepting her fate, not knowing that she had already defeated him more soundly than any other. Long had she owned him, body and soul, and he could not now go against that.
Tears fell, and his eyes blinked closed against them. Unbidden, memories of her sprang to his mind. Sersi, just hours ago, offering him comfort and forgiveness when they returned to Babylon, unaware of the betrayals he’d made. Sersi, as she had looked on their wedding day, glowing in the light of the candles, when he had worn a smile that had no end. Sersi, in the light of the sun unhindered by atmosphere, staring hopefully at the pale blue dot that was to be their home. Sersi, compassionate, caring, infinitely kind, blessing him with her presence each and every day. His dearest love.
Opening his eyes, all he could see was her. She looked at him, well-beloved face streaked with soot, eyes filled with tears, and he knew that he had failed.
All was lost.
He felt the call of the Uni-mind, too broken to resist it now, feeling his energy flow to Sersi. It felt right, somehow, that the very life-force of his body should be given over to her, joining his heart and soul, already long in her possession.
In that moment he felt connected to her, more truly than ever before. He felt the very essence of her being, flaring gold in his mind’s eye, as the brightest star in all the heavens. He was in awe of her, as he always had been; nothing existed now but her, and he gave all of himself over for her to use as she willed it. It had been folly to think he could ever stand against her.
At length, the roaring in his ears quieted, and the Uni-mind let him go, dropping back to rest on the palm of Tiamut, now marble white. He looked around him, and the truth punched through his chest.
There would be no going back from this. He had failed, utterly and completely, at every single one of his deeply-held allegiances. He had betrayed Sersi, had betrayed Ajak, and now, at last, had betrayed Arishem itself. All his millenia of dedication, of obligation, of devotion, had been brought to this bitter and ignominious end.
His heart was leaden, wretched and alone, tears of shame and dismay leaking ceaselessly from his eyes. He looked to Sersi, regret choking his throat, anguish etched in every line of his face. “I’m sorry,” he told her, voice broken and shaking. He knelt before her, as if in supplication, begging her forgiveness.
“I know,” she told him simply, one hand coming to cup his cheek, and her eyes were sorrowful but kind. She gave him understanding but not absolution, for his actions were beyond mercy, even from the gentle Sersi, and he knew that he was at the end.
There was no more left for him to do; no more battles to wage, no lover to protect, no one else to deceive or disappoint. His mission had finally ended, in disgrace and ruin of his own making.
He left her for the last time, seeing the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes. But as he flew, he closed his eyes, recalling in his last moments seven thousand years of beauty. The light upon her face beneath an unclouded sky, her radiant smile as she danced, the simple joy when she woke beside him. And though it all had ended, he was, at the very last, glad.
For to have known Sersi was to have lived.