The Cobra of Smoke - The Burden of Sight

Chapter 10

When she finally looked up, David was watching her from the doorway, two mugs in his hands and love in his eyes.

"How's it coming?" he asked, setting her coffee beside the laptop.

"It's not about understanding anymore," she said, realising the truth as she spoke it. "It's about honouring the experience by letting it go."

David nodded, understanding completely as he always did. "That's how you know the cobra chose well."

Shantali saved the document and closed her laptop. The story would wait. Right now, the present moment—with its coffee aroma and morning light, with David's smile and the weight of the ring on her finger—demanded her full attention.

And for the first time since smoke had coiled into prophecy, she gave it willingly, choosing the life before her over the mysteries behind.

"I like the name change," David said, settling beside her on the couch. "Imogen has a certain mystique to it."

"I thought so too." Shantali closed her laptop and leaned into his warmth. "Fictional enough that no one will connect it to me, but still honouring what happened."

Outside, autumn leaves skittered across the sidewalk, a reminder of one of her visions—the funeral beneath falling leaves. But now, instead of dread, she felt only acceptance. Life would bring loss alongside joy; that was its nature.

"I was thinking," David said, his fingers absently playing with her engagement ring, "what if we get married in the spring? April, maybe. When everything's blooming."

The image settled into her mind—not as prophetic vision but as conscious choice. A deliberate step away from the autumn funeral scene toward something new they were creating together.

"April sounds perfect," she agreed. "Nothing too elaborate."

"Just us and the people we love." David's voice held a contentment that made her heart swell. "Speaking of which, I promised my grandmother we'd visit this weekend. She'll want to hear about the engagement."

Shantali nodded, remembering how his grandmother had raised him after his parents' accident. "I'd like that. She always makes me feel like I belong in your family."

"You do belong." He kissed her temple. "You always have."

Her phone buzzed with a text from Marcus: *Lunch tomorrow? Need to talk about this engagement news.*

She showed it to David, who raised an eyebrow. "Your brother moves fast. I only called him yesterday about being worried about you."

"That's Marcus. He probably has a PowerPoint presentation ready about marriage statistics and optimal timeline planning." She typed a quick response: *Sure. The usual place at 1?*

As she set down her phone, a notification appeared from her work email. She almost ignored it, but the subject line caught her attention: *Re: Environmental Anomalies in Egyptian Wing.*

With slight hesitation, she opened it:

*Ms. Cross,*

*Maintenance reports indicate no structural issues with the HVAC system in the Egyptian wing despite previous concerns. However, environmental monitoring has recorded several instances of unusual atmospheric composition near the Ptolemaic collection, particularly between 2 and 3 AM.*

*As you previously noted, similar observations, Dr. Hassan has requested your participation in a brief meeting regarding these findings. Please advise if you are available on Tuesday at 4 PM.*

*Regards,*

*Museum Administration*

David read over her shoulder, his body tensing slightly. "Are you going to go?"

Shantali considered the question carefully. A week ago, she would have leapt at the chance to dive deeper into the mystery, to validate her experience with scientific data and expert consultation. Now, the invitation felt like a test.

"I think," she said slowly, "that I'll attend the meeting, share what I observed professionally and the teachings from it, but beyond that and what I saw, no they can buy my novel if they really want to know. " She giggled, strong and free, almost like wind chimes.

David's laughter joined hers, rich and warm in the morning light. "I love that idea. Let them buy your novel if they want the full story."

"Besides," Shantali added, closing her laptop with finality, "some experiences aren't meant to be dissected in conference rooms. They're meant to be lived and then released."

She typed a brief response to the museum administration: *I'll attend the Tuesday meeting to share my professional observations. However, my personal research on this matter has concluded.*

After sending it, she felt a lightness she hadn't experienced in weeks—the freedom of choosing presence over pursuit, love over obsession.

"You know what I want to do today?" she said, stretching against David's side.

"What's that?"

"Look at the apartments. Real ones, with real balconies and real bookshelves." She turned the engagement ring on her finger, watching it catch the light. "I want to start building our life instead of analysing visions of it."

David's smile was radiant. "I have three viewings scheduled for this afternoon, just in case you said yes last night."

"You were that confident in your parking garage proposal?"

"I was that confident in us." He stood and offered her his hand. "Come on, future Mrs. Chen. Let's go find our home."

As Shantali took his hand and let him pull her to her feet, she caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window—two people choosing their path together, no smoke or prophecy required. Just love, trust, and the courage to step forward into whatever came next.

The serpent had given her the greatest gift of all: the wisdom to stop seeking and start living.

As they left the apartment, Shantali felt a sense of finality—not an ending, but a transition. The weight of ancient mysteries had lifted from her shoulders, replaced by the sweet anticipation of apartment hunting with the man she loved. The ring on her finger caught sunlight as she reached for David's hand, its sparkle more captivating than any prophetic smoke.

"The first place is in Riverside," David said as they walked to his car. "Two bedrooms, south-facing balcony. The listing mentioned built-in bookshelves."

"Sounds promising." Shantali smiled, picturing their books intermingled on those shelves—her mystery novels alongside his historical biographies, their lives blending together in small, meaningful ways.