The Cobra of Smoke - The Burden of Sight

Chapter 8

The vision flickered in her memory, but softer now, stripped of its ominous weight. Just life, with all its inevitable difficulties, made bearable by shared commitment.

"I love you," she said simply.

"I love you too." He raised his wine glass. "To new beginnings and mysterious smoke creatures who know better than we do what we need."

They clinked glasses, and Shantali felt something settle into place—not the desperate certainty of prophecy, but the quiet confidence of choice freely made.

As they walked to David's car after dinner, the October night crisp around them, Shantali's phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: Dr. Hassan, MMAA. Heard you've been researching serpent smoke phenomena.

Shantali responded: Somethings aren’t meant to be researched to much, they’re meant to be gifts for those who need clarity when their lives come to a crossroad as they let fear take hold. Life is meant to be lived with those we love and love us not to chase what ifs.

The response came quickly: Wise words. I spent three years chasing similar phenomena after my own encounter. Nearly lost my marriage in the process. The cobra teaches through experience, not analysis. Congratulations on choosing love.

Shantali showed David the exchange as he started the car. He read it with raised eyebrows.

"Dr. Hassan had visions too?"

"Apparently we're not as unique as I thought." She deleted the conversation thread, feeling no need to pursue it further. "But unlike me, it sounds like she learned the hard way."

David pulled out of the restaurant parking lot, heading toward his apartment—their apartment, she corrected herself with a small thrill. "So what now? Do we pretend the whole thing never happened?"

Shantali considered this as they stopped at a red light. "No, I don't think we pretend. But we don't worship it either. It was a gift, like Dr. Hassan said. You don't spend your life analyzing a gift—you use it."

The light turned green, and David accelerated through the intersection. "And how exactly do we use prophetic visions?"

"By living them," she said, surprising herself with the certainty in her voice. "Not controlling them, not obsessing over them. Just... being present for whatever comes."

They spent the rest of the drive in comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts. When they reached David's building, he turned off the engine but made no move to get out.

"Tali?"

"Mm?"

"When we saw those visions together, the wedding scene..." He paused, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "Was that something you want, or something you're afraid of?"

The question hung between them in the car's quiet interior. Shantali thought of the white dress, the altar, the joy she'd felt in that glimpse of possibility.

"I want it," she said softly. "Not because I saw it in smoke, but because I can't imagine growing old with anyone else."

David's smile was visible even in the dim parking garage lighting. "Good. Because I've been carrying around a ring for two months, waiting for the right moment."

Her heart stuttered. "You have a ring?"

"In my sock drawer. Very romantic hiding place." He laughed nervously. "I kept planning elaborate proposals, but after everything we've been through this week, I think simple might be better."

"David Chen," she said, turning in her seat to face him fully, "are you proposing to me in a parking garage?"

"Not yet. But I'm thinking about it."

The absurdity of it—after ancient prophecies and mystical smoke creatures, after research binges and existential crises—made her laugh until tears streamed down her cheeks. David joined in, and soon they were both gasping with laughter in the front seat of his Honda Civic, the weight of the week finally lifting.

"Okay," she said when she could breathe again. "So it appears that I wasn’t the only one that the cobra may have been looking for to give clarity too, it just found me first.”

David's laughter faded as he processed her words, his expression shifting from amusement to wonder. "You think it was trying to reach both of us?"

"Think about it," Shantali said, wiping her eyes. "You traded shifts to be there last night. You could have waited until morning to check on me, but something made you come to the museum at exactly the right moment." She reached for his hand. "Maybe the cobra needed us both to see the same future to believe it was real."

"So we're both victims of supernatural matchmaking?"

"Beneficiaries," she corrected. "The cobra doesn't force anything—it just shows possibilities. We still had to choose."

David squeezed her fingers, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. "And you're choosing this? Us? Even knowing what challenges we might face?"

"Especially knowing." The certainty in her voice surprised even her. "The visions weren't warnings, David. They were promises. Your mother's surgery, your grandfather's funeral, all of it—they showed me that love isn't about avoiding hardship. It's about facing it together."

He studied her face in the parking garage's fluorescent glow. "I was so afraid you were going to disappear into that research, become another Dr. Thorne."

"I almost did." She thought of the books still sitting in her apartment, due back to the library in two weeks. "But the cobra showed me the cost of that choice too. Every vision of us together was shadowed by the possibility of me alone, surrounded by theories instead of life."

David reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. "I know this isn't the romantic proposal I planned, but—"

"It's perfect," she interrupted. "After everything we've been through, I don't need elaborate. I just need honest."

He opened the box, revealing a simple solitaire that caught the harsh garage lighting and transformed it into something beautiful. "Shantali Mae Cross, will you marry me? Not because ancient Egyptian spirits think we should, but because I can't imagine any future without you in it?"