As the days passed, Adrien became more and more sure of what to do. He could not bear his own feelings anymore - and, most of all, he could not bear that he would never be able to express them. If he summoned Val, if he gave himself to him, he would at least be able to do so once - he would not tell him that he loved him, but he would at least be able to hold him, and to be held - he would just be one of his summoners, and he would give Val the care that his summoners rarely did, and then they could continue being friends - and spend their last few months together. Then it would be just as with Giulio: he would bring with himself one dear memory - not a fantasy, a memory. This was not what he truly wanted - this was only a compromise to end his pain; but if this had to be it, if this was the only thing he could do, then he would do it; if this was going to be the only way in which he would ever know his love, then he would do it. Afterwards, he would no longer dream of this love - he would accept that he had all he could; he would have to suffer, certainly, he would have to grieve - but he would do so while remembering all they'd shared, not while wondering what it would have been like. He hated things left hanging, he hated loose threads - and he wanted this to be the knot to his pain. He craved the release from this love that was consuming him. More than the act itself, Adrien wished for everything to be over, at long last.

May came with its glory of flowers; its days of sunlight carried the melancholy of beauty that is bound to fade. Adrien spent his days brewing healing potions, enchanting scrolls, and studying astronomy in the evenings. On one day towards the end of the month, over breakfast, Val told him that it was time for a pause; that he'd been working so hard, and that he deserved a day of rest. They had decided to go outside and walk in the forest, which was now green and more beautiful than ever. It was a wonderful sunny day; they walked through the songs of birds and the scents of flowers - but they shared few words between each other.

They reached the clearing with the tree stump where the path ended; Val took his bags off his shoulders, set them by the trunk, then sat himself down on the grass - and Adrien did the same. They sat there, together, without saying a word. The sky above them was painted with white clouds, and the grass below was lush and wonderful; and Adrien was hardly in the mood to enjoy any of this. A gentle breeze caressed Adrien's face and hair, and he hated its carefree joy; all the trees around were clothed in their most beautiful green, bearing flowers in white and pink - pointless promises for fruits that he would never see. Sitting next to him, Val seemed deep in thought, too; and Adrien wondered what was that troubled him - if he would share, if he felt just the same. They sat in silence for a long time; then, at last, Val turned towards him, and Adrien knew from the light of his eyes that the words that would follow came from deep within.

But it would have to end. Adrien knew, and Val knew, too. It had always come with an end. Even the day they first met, Adrien knew their paths were bound to meet, entwine, then separate. Their first day together would not come again, and their last day together was bound to arrive. Then, all that would be left of this time would be a fond memory, a remnant, always hurtling away from what would become his present, its light disappearing into the distance, becoming more unreachable with each day that would come, tainting the future with its completeness.

Adrien walked on the green path back to the tower, side by side with the person that he loved the most in the whole world, carrying flowers against his chest for the funeral of their time together.

*****

By when they were both back, Adrien felt strangely calm: full of sorrow as he was, he had accepted his chaos, and found certainty in the end that he could see on his horizon. He could not stop it from coming; he could only take it. And yet, when Adrien closed the door to his room behind himself, all that he had been trying to suppress surged and spilled.

He locked the door to his room. He retrieved his staff from the corner where he kept it, and knew just what to do. He searched in a drawer for something - he had put it inside one of his books: the piece of paper bearing the design of the summoning circle that Val had given to him. Feverishly, Adrien drew the circle - his eyes half-seeing behind his tears, his throat clenched; he guided the staff with unsteady hands, driven by the weight of his pain. One name appeared against his lips; it shone like the sun - it scorched him; "Val", he cried, "Val -- Val -- I need you". He threw his head forwards, gasping - he closed his eyes and imagined Val's hands holding him, running over his back - his beautiful black eyes; and his smile as he lost himself within his body -- and then it would be over; no more aching, no more longing - all would end; and then Adrien's heart could rest, having known his embrace, having given his love - once, only once, but enough, enough to make this all die. Holding a piece of chalk between trembling fingers, he wrote the incantation that adorned the large circle - the one meant for Val. "To you I offer all I have - To your void I am now bound", Adrien read in a choked whisper. "Please... Please...".

When the summoning circle was completed, Adrien stood up. He looked down at it, at its arcane, terrifying beauty. Now all that remained was to give the offering. From the drawers underneath his wardrobe, he retrieved a small sewing kit. He opened the cloth case and selected a needle. He held it tight in his cold fingers, fighting against the impulse to throw up. He breathed out, then put the case away. He kneeled in the middle of the large circle, and took a few shuddering breaths. He extended the index finger of his left hand above the symbol of the Eye and drew the needle close to the fingertip; he brushed against it, barely touching it, then moved the needle away. Adrien closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but the pounding of his heart would not allow him respite. He opened his eyes again; he looked at the needle - and for a moment, he saw nothing but its sheen, moving faintly as the light of the torches danced around - and within his mind, all thoughts blended and found no shape beyond that of his pain and of his wish to end it.He pointed the needle at his fingertip again. Now, he was gasping and shuddering so much that he could no longer see. His ears were buzzing. He moved the tip imperceptibly towards his finger; then away; then closer; then away. Adrien's vision kept focusing and unfocusing on the needle; his face was wet with tears and sweat. He hissed. "Do it", he told himself. "Do it". He felt as if he was beneath so much weight, and as if he would suffocate soon.

He let out a guttural scream; then, a roar. He broke into furious crying. He couldn't do it.

Gripping at the needle with rage, Adrien fell over on one side, smearing the summoning circle's design with his body. The floor was so cold against his wet skin. He cried, and cried, and cried - tears streamed down his face and onto the tiles, his nose was running, but he no longer cared. He curled up with his knees close to his chest. He shook and sobbed with all his might; all he wanted to do in that moment was to let out his pain. But when the crying stopped, there came the emptiness. As if from someone else's eyes, he saw himself, there as he was, in the reality of his void - he was a nothing, a worthless body with a worthless being, lying on the floor in his underwear, clutching onto a needle, incapable of doing anything for himself or for the person that he loved the most. If there had been anything left for his dried being to feel in that moment, it would have been the most thorough and pitiless disgust.