Chapter 111 - 111: Logical
Ixion sat with the plate of dried cod before him, its salted scent faint, a quiet defiance against a world where such things had grown rare.
'It's warm here.'
The fire in the candles was weak, fed sparingly. But the space itself felt insulated from something larger.
Ixion found that curious.
Cutting into the fish, Ixion took a bite.
'Dry.'
Joe leaned against the edge of the table, arms folded, watching him with that same steady gaze.
"You're thinking too hard, friend. There's nothing interesting about what I said."
Ixion swallowed and let out a quiet breath.
"Maybe you're right. I tend to do that."
Joe chuckled.
"Friend, sorry to say, but I noticed."
Silence settled between them for a moment. Not awkward. Not heavy. Even the four others were quiet, curiously spectating Joe and Pirithous (Ixion).
Ixion tapped a finger lightly against the wooden table.
"Tell me something, Joe."
"Go on."
"You speak as if love is simple, yet also impossible to define. That sounds contradictory."
Joe scratched his mustache.
"It is contradictory."
Ixion narrowed his eyes slightly.
"That answers nothing."
Joe smiled faintly.
"It answers everything. You're trying to understand it like it's a rule or a system. It isn't. It doesn't follow logic and reason."
Ixion leaned back in his seat, gaze drifting toward the tavern door, wondering what Joe found so interesting about that shabby wooden gate.
"Then it sounds inefficient."
Joe barked a laugh.
"Of course it is. That's part of love's charm. Love is nothing if not inefficient."
"I'm sorry," Ixion bowed his head slightly, "but I'm failing to see the point."
Joe sighed, then tilted his head.
"Let me ask you this, Piri. Do you think everything needs a reason?"
Ixion did not answer immediately.
His eyes moved across the room. He noticed a few things he hadn't before. A few weathered cracks in the floorboards. Some tables and chairs undergoing the same suffering.
"No," Ixion said at last. "But lack of reason leads only to anarchy and confusion."
Joe nodded.
"Sometimes it does. But sometimes it leads to something else."
"What is that something else?"
Joe pushed himself off the table and straightened.
"Meaning."
Ixion's brow furrowed, then chuckled and said:
"Is Meaning not derived from outcome?"
Joe shook his head.
"That's where you're wrong."
Ixion's gaze sharpened.
"Then enlighten me, Joe."
Joe gestured loosely toward the four watching them with wide eyes.
"Take them. There's no grand outcome here. No gain. No purpose beyond passing the time, waiting for this dying world to breathe it's last. Yet they laugh. They care about each other. They come back here day after day. Why?"
"Distraction," Ixion said. "There's not much one has other than that when the world's ending."
Joe smiled.
"And?"
Ixion hesitated.
"…and perhaps something else."
Joe nodded approvingly.
"That something else is closer to what you're looking for."
Ixion exhaled slowly.
"You're being deliberately vague."
"Aye, friend."
"Why?"
"Because if I give you a clean answer, you'll misunderstand it."
Ixion's lips twitched upward slightly.
"That is a bold assumption."
Joe shrugged his shoulders.
"I've lived long enough to make it."
Ixion looked down at the glass in his hands, watching the faint ripple of the water as he shifted it.
"Then what would you have me do?"
Joe's expression softened.
"Live a bit more."
Ixion let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
"That is not helpful, nor does it seem possible."
"No, maybe not," Joe agreed. "But it's the only way you'll find an answer.."
Another pause settled between them.
This one lingered longer.
Ixion's thoughts drifted to Dia. To the brief moments they had shared. To the way she had looked at him, not with fear, not with reverence, but with something far less convenient.
He clicked his tongue softly.
"Hypothetically," Ixion began, "if one were to care for someone, yet know with certainty that their presence would lead to that person's suffering… What would be the correct course of action?"
Joe did not answer immediately.
He studied Ixion carefully, as if weighing something unseen.
Joe spoke slowly.
"Do you want the answer that sounds right, or the one that feels right?"
"They are often the same."
Joe shook his head.
"Not in matters like this."
Ixion's fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
"Then give me both."
Joe sighed.
"The answer that sounds right is to walk away. Spare them the pain. Remove yourself from their life."
Ixion nodded once.
"That is logical."
"Yes, friend."
"And the other?"
Joe's gaze hardened just a fraction.
"The one that feels right is to stay. To fight for it. To accept the pain and the consequences because it matters to you."
Ixion's expression did not change, but something behind his eyes shifted.
"That sounds selfish."
"It is."
Joe picked up an empty mug and began idly turning it in his hands.
"But life doesn't always give you a choice to be selfless and get what you want. Especially not when dealing with people."
Ixion looked down again.
The water had gone still.
"Then perhaps people are inherently flawed."
Joe chuckled.
"Now that, friend, is something we can agree on."
Dave suddenly slammed his hands on the table.
"Alright, stop using big words and grab me a pint already, Joe!"
Mary grinned and chuckled.
"You've lost your ale privileges, remember."
"Have not, he said it was a joke!"
Larry sighed softly.
Olave laughed.
The noise swelled once more, filling the space.
Ixion glanced at them.
'Love.'
He thought to himself.
The word felt foreign. Incomplete. Illogical.
And yet…
There were still pieces missing. Variables unaccounted for. Outcomes yet to be determined. But for the first time, Ixion found himself considering something he had long dismissed.
Not whether love could be understood.
But whether it needed to be.
Joe glanced over at the kitchen, then slid out of the booth.
"Eat your cod before it gets cold, I'm going to check on the girls. Make sure they're not playing with ingredients again."
Ixion nodded as Joe turned and walked off.
"Thank you, friend."