Velentham appeared at Gilean's side, his silver eyes locked on the vibrant sway of the grass as it shivered in the light breeze. "It appears we are related," Velentham said, his throat seizing up as though trying to close around a rock.
"It appears that way."
"Yes... funny thing, fate."
There was nothing more to say. What more could be said? At least if he tried to get along with Gilean, Velentham would make his father happy. In truth, it would be the only thing that would save them on their journey. Though he didn't want to see it before, in his calmer mind, Velentham had to admit to the truth.
"Your father says that you will insist in following us, even knowing what following would mean. Is that truly so?" Gilean asked.
"I love her, Gilean. I mean that. Her soul was like no other I've encountered. She needed me and once she got better..." Velentham trailed off, remembering Sanria. The way she would laugh, the loving touch she lavished on the leaves of the trees. The smile she would give to him on their many walks together. "She isn't like our people."
"Listen, I can understand your feelings. I truly can," Gilean said. "When I first saw Claire... she struck something in me. Once I got to know her, I longed to tell her. To let her know how I felt. I took her out to eat. Do you know what happened? Just when I was about to tell her she told me all about this wonderful man who had given her these flowers. She was so excited about it. So I held my tongue. It wasn't right for me to disrupt her budding interest by suddenly professing my love for her."
"But she loved me, too, Gilean. This was no woman coming to me with another interest. She loved me. She wanted to stay here, with me. She already loved me."
"Did she love _you_, or was it this place, the escape, the freedom, that she loved?"
"Even those who come to Elysium and forget don't just fall in love with the first Celestial they see. You know this. She may have forgotten her past, but she loved me. I can't just give up, Gilean."
The two men stood speaking with relative calm for the first time since the discovery of Gilean's traitorous past. The conversation flowed like water, about love, about their family's past within the Celestial community. At last, though knowing Gilean was a pacifist, Velentham pulled a blade from thin air. It's metal lacked all shine, so dark was its edge. "This... is the Blackblood. It has slain many of the foul denizens of the Nine Hells. It swims with the blood of the demons it has taken. Its metal is as though it were living - thirsting for the drink of the evil. It will guide itself true."
Velentham sheathed Blackblood and held it out to Gilean. Though the man shied, eventually he took the offered weapon and Velentham knew all would be well in the Nine Hells. He bent space to arrive at his father's side, where he put an easy hand on the shoulder of the elder. "I am sorry, father." At the embrace of the elder Celestial, everything would indeed be alright.
