She left and the coldness of the game was her final gift. I would do it with a thug of obsidian. He himself had taught him how. More sharp than steel. The edge of an atom thickness. And she was right. There were no arguments. Innumerable nights in candle debating the pros and cons of self -destruction with the seriousness of some philosophers chained to the wall of a asylum. In the morning the boy said nothing at all and when they had the luggage made and were ready to throw themselves to the road he turned and looked where they had camped on the eve and said: He left, right? And he said: Yes.
The excerpt reflects a deep contemplation of loss and the weight of choices made in the face of despair. The coldness of the game represents an emotional void left behind by someone significant, suggesting that their departure has left a lasting impact on the narrator. The imagery of a "thug of obsidian" casts a stark, almost violent notion of how the character has learned to cope with pain, indicating a sharpness and precision in his thoughts about self-destruction and the heavy philosophical discussions that have marked their nights together.
As the boy prepares to leave, his silence speaks volumes about the internal struggles and existential dilemmas faced throughout their journey. The stark realization that they are now on their own after their companion's departure indicates a turning point. The question posed by the boy encapsulates their shared grief and understanding of abandonment, while the confirming response underscores not just the loss, but also the inevitability of moving forward despite the heartbreak and the lingering shadows of the past.