I took to the door Alice had left in, opposite the ebony door that led to the workshop, to the route I took when I had first been here. The hallway was a crepuscular cul-de-sac that led to two doors: one on the left, the latter to the adjacent right. Above the vaulted ceiling was fashioned with patterns of coruscating golden meanders that bled into dreary green seaweed walls where sconces of amber lamps hung, a procession that led into either room.
The one on the left, Virgil had said but I was tempted to not enter. What was Ms. Alice able to do that Virgil, the once-hunter, could not? My thoughts did not race apart from the offense I had done.
My footsteps sound more like erratic shuffling down the halls; if she had not known I was coming, she did now. I took a deep breath and knocked. Enter, the melodic voice said. Her voice no longer had any hint of the chiding before. Perhaps she had forgotten. Whatever comfort I searched for, I did not find; I knew I had wronged.
Halfway into puncturing the boundaries of the room, my nose was hit with the alluring smell of rose and honeysuckle once more, the perfume that dabbled her wrists, that were now stained with jasmine and lavender; the aggregate was not offensive but it was quite curious to blend that many perfumes in one room.
I fastened the door behind me, and took the scene in. I looked at her, at that doll of a woman who hid her true temperament. She now bore each and every bit of the refined she undulated: her eyes were fixed on a brown leather-bound tome; quite ragged, some of the pages dog-eared and weary. Even here I could smell the hint of vanilla from the paper.
Her face was heavenly in the ambient light of the dim lamp that lit the room like sunshine. I remember less and less about it but perhaps it had looked like her: gorgeous like the curve of her nose, sparkling like the ash-blonde locks she wore. A flash of an ankle and arm flaunted through the scarlet dress she lounged in. A wingless angel? Was that too much praise? I wonder had it not been for my infection, would I have been able to take in this beauty?
She raised her head and gazed at me, greeting me with those eyes worth more than precious metals that lay deep beneath the earth. A stunning ruby that could turn any man mad!
I hemmed and greeted her; a bow. "Ms. Alice." Mr. Diggory.
"I have come…" I trailed off. She tilted her head in confusion. "I have come by Virgil's instruction. He has told me that you have a way to help me become stronger. I shall not impose upon you, Ms. Alice—if you are not willing to tell me, I shall accept it and not bear any resentment towards you. But…" I pause to take a deep breath. "But in the event that you find it in yourself to forgive me for the horrible manner in which I had acted minutes ago, will you perhaps forgive me then," I said thickly, "for I cannot bear the resentment of a handsome lady such as you; it grieves me to know that I have offended you and as such, I ask once more for your forgiveness.��
I do not look her in the eye. My stare is fixed on the floor. Once again it was a carpet of labyrinthian design, meanders of a motley of colors but all were dull and dreary. The paintings hung around us sneer like my father had when I had acted poorly (which to him, was almost the whole of my existence; never did I not act poorly) and was given a flogging for it.
A sigh breaks the silence that had come over the room like darkness; perhaps it was the lovely tune of her voice that it was a dabble of light rather than a sign of sharp irritation.
"Mr. Diggory, I have already forgiven you. You cannot offend me in anyway; my blood flows in you. You have already become mine, all the women that hitherto you have been courting and romancing with are now unimportant and insignificant figures of your life. For I have come. So, yes, Mr. Diggory, I will help you and forgive you. Not doing so will herald the bane of my existence, and perish the good people of Yarim."
I am relieved. I try to hide it but a giddy smile betrays me and I look down to hide it. Joy vanishes almost as quickly as it came—it had dawned, now midnight settled. "How may I get stronger, Ms. Alice—to find the cure. To free Yarim. Hope has been placed on me but I do not know how to answer to them. I wish to free myself and Yarim from the clutches of the plague," Alice's face looks solemn but I do not notice, "What can—what should I do in order to bear the burden? I am no hero, Ms. Alice!" my voice is brittle, and my eyes had moistened, "I am a lost man, no bearing of what course to take or what steps to make. I am lost! It is a cruel reality of fate that my father had named me as such, but I wish to change Ms. Alice!"
Even if it is a risk?
"Yes!" I cried almost immediately, the twang of salt in my mouth, "If taking this ghastly risk is the condition to live, then I will take it!"
Rest for now, Anima. You are weary. You have suffered much. You will become stronger in time. So sleep, my darling. Here, rest your head on my lap. Life has been cruel to you, Anima. But you must not falter. You will be the one to kill—
The world fades into obscurity. I hear nothing. I feel nothing. I care for nothing. This would be my life if I escape. No meaning but there is no suffering. Dull but there is no danger. I do not want it.
I cannot escape this journey though I want to be freed. But is desire an acceptable reason to escape life? I do not know. I have not lived long. Soon these thoughts will be none more too, fading as they are now, into that abyss before death.