A delicious orgy of fresh bread, cold butter and honey herbal tea swept across the long, yellow-blue corridor. The red-haired maid tried to hide her excitement, but she couldn't, as the tray was loudly shaking in her hand. She bit her soft lip, but not because the delicious breakfast's smell. It was the sight of her master's bedroom that made her lose control. She stopped before the door, politely knocked and rushed in without waiting for an answer.
- Calm down, calm down! You'll look cool! It will be fine! – she reassured herself, before locking the door.
White columns towered in each corner of the spacious room. They held up the symbolic sky painted on the ceiling. In it, winged snakes flew around a human's dissected body. Its intestines and internal organs were all visible and anatomically perfect. Every one of them was at its right place, bearing the right color and size. Even if its theme was unusual, the painting was clearly made with a lot of passion and a lot of money.
She placed the tray on her master's desk and turned to the huge bed, which surrounded by velvet sheets hanging from above, just translucent enough to be penetrated by a dim light.
– Master! – She approached the bed, slowly unbuttoning her clothes. – I know you're still mad at me for the last time I followed you into the city! And I'm sorry! I truly am! Just how much? Let me show you! Do you remember that one swimsuit you said would look cute on me?
Clinging to a corner tree, she slipped out of her skirt and kicked it under the bed with the rest of her clothes. She hid a blue, dolphin-patterned bikini under her dress. Pulling away one of the velvet curtains, she knelt on the bed, suggestively raising her hand to her flat chest.
– Well, look which fish stranded on your bed!
There was no answer.
– Hurry, Master! If you don't help this fish get wet, it drowns!
She still didn't get an answer. Frustrated, she pulled the sheets aside, allowing morning sunlight on the bed.
– Hey, wake up! Don't you want to fuck this stupid fish?
It was empty. Bullets and old clothes laid on the blanket, but not her love. Knowing very well his whereabouts, she threw herself on the bed and let out a sad sigh.
– What more do I need to earn your trust?
A gentle wind blew the velvet sheets. The girl sat up to see the windows were slightly open.
- - -
– What do you mean by that? Do you know which demon you just angered? – roared the scaly monster, showing off her razor-sharp claws.
– Madam, I'll say it again, slower this time: if you don't have the right documents, I can't let you into the capital. Even if you have "important business to attend to". The law says so.
The demon leant closer to the man checking her documents. The guard, standing next to the gate-house raised his pike. A chill ran down the gatekeeper's spine, as the demon whispered:
– Have you heard about the nunnery behind a fountain?
She grew a smile, seeing the gatekeeper knew very well what she was talking about. It wasn't worth the trouble.
– I'm sorry, madam. Please, feel welcome in our humble city.
– That's more like it! – and she entered the gate.
The underpaid gatekeeper laid back in his seat. A short boy in a brown cloak appeared on the other side of the window. He took off the hood from his head, revealing his shaggy, copper-red hair. His light blue eyes gleamed like pearls of the ocean.
– Minors may only enter in the company of an adult.
– I know, that's why I grew up! – he smiled.
The guard held out his hand. The boy took his side bag off his shoulder and after some searching raised a tiny book from it. As the gatekeeper received it, he immediately noticed the strange name. At the top of the first page "Henrik Ibsen" was written in capital letters, with half-dwarf and half-human just below it.
– Well, would you look at that! A half-dwarf. Are you a man of the north?
– Yes. True, my hair alone gives that away. – he winked at the sitting gatekeeper, who was still taller than him. Although it was a comical sight, Ibsen was not as small as the other half-dwarfs. He was the same height as an average human woman.
The gatekeeper checked a few pieces of data and then returned the book to the boy with a yellow, smiling badge.
– Well! Everything's in order. Have you been to the other side of the gate?
– Never before.
– What an honor to be the first you hear this from! Henrik Ibsen! Welcome to Faevarus! Welcome to the Capital of the World!
Ibsen was blown away by the gigantic arch of the gate. Its greatness towered into the skies, its iron bars stood ready, like a guillotine made for giants. Ibsen felt like a tiny ant compared to the massive scales of the gate. This made him fill up with joy. In his native village, where he lived almost two decades of his life, everything was tiny and boring. Gray houses, gardens, and meadows followed one another, wherever the eye looked. It wasn't until he went to a nearby town that he saw anything memorable. But even those sights could not be compared to this simple gate.
The entrance of the city showed a plethora of unfamiliar and wonderful sights. Everything was huge and colorful. The people, the vehicles, the roads, the buildings… before he could react, Ibsen found himself in the middle of a crowd in which human-like, beast-like and mystical beings, thinking nothing of another, cruised side by side with peace.
Not far from the entrance, he caught a glimpse of vendors, placing fresh snacks in their small shop-windows. Traveling from north to the capital is not an easy thing. A trip of up to a week requires lots of food. His journey began with enough food to feed an orphanage, but now he only had one dry, horseradish sandwich and some lukewarm water left.
The crowd died out near the shops, so he paid less attention to his feet and stumbled awkwardly in another man.
– Maps, get your maps here! – shouted the black gentleman, roughly the same age as Ibsen, flailing his maps around. – Only two gold coins! The deal of a lifetime! Maps, get your maps here!
He was wearing a sky blue jacket. His dark beret bounced up and down on his head as he flailed the maps left and right. Ibsen, still on the ground, looked under his hat and saw that not only his eyes, but also his short hair too was cotton candy pink.
Finally noticing Ibsen, the boy leaned down, pressed a map into his face and began to shout.
– Hey, northerner! Do you want a map? It's three gold coins, but just now, just for you, I'll make it two!
– Well, it's a very nice offer, but I don't think I'll…
– No need to be formal! Come on, give me your hand! I'll help you up!
Ibsen grabbed the merchant's helping hand, who picked him up with just one simple move.
– Whoa, you're strong!
– Eunostos, reporting for duty!
– I'm Ibsen. Thank you for helping me Eunto…Eusto… map boy! Sadly, I don't think I can afford your maps. It's my first time here and I only have two silver thalers. City folks don't accept that, right?
The vendor's grin disappeared.
– What are you talking about? Silver-what?
– Silver thaler. I'm from the north. We use silver, instead of gold.
– Interesting, I've never heard of your thalers before. And you really don't have any gold?
– Unfortunately no, I don't.
– Well that's problematic…
Eunostos raised his hand to his chin and seemed to be lost in thoughts. Ibsen, as he stared at the strange boy, noticed that his facial hair was growing back and that was just as light pink as his hair and eyes. He was a strange sight. Strong, handsome and unlike any man he has seen. Ibsen was a tad bit jealous.
– Tell me, Ibsen, what's a young man, coming from the north, doing all alone in the capital without gold?
Ibsen fell silent. The question made him feel uncomfortable, as the map vendor had nothing to do with it.
– I came to visit a relative of mine. He said we would meet in front of a pub called Purgatory. Do you know where that might be?
– Of course I do! – he smiled, putting his mapless hand on his hip. – I don't know what kind of person your relative is, but he chose a rather strange meeting place. Though I know where it is, I haven't heard much about the pub. If you want to, I'd love to show you the way.
– Your kindness is appreciated, but I'm fine with just a map.
– No way! All I need now is to have one of my friends get hit by a tram while he's searching for an old bar on some stupid map!
– Wait, when did we become friends?
– I'm coming with you, Ibsen! I'll be your guard! I'll be your guiding light!
– All right, Eunostos, then tell me, where exactly do we need to go?
The boy swapped the maps in his hand and pointed to one of the steep roads.
– We go up there, turn right, get on the cableway at the top of the hill and we're basically there. Sounds easy, but it's no short walk. I hope your legs can handle it.
– Of course, thanks! – he waved and set off on the specified path, leaving the Eunostos behind.
– Hey, where do you think you're going? – he ran after Ibsen.
– To the meeting-place.
– All right, stay behind me! I'll lead the way!
– Nope.
– What nope? How will you find the Purgatory without me?
– Alone.
– But you don't know the way!
– You just told me. Thanks for that!
Ibsen patted him on the back and kept on walking. He was able to take a few steps before feeling the grip of two strong arms on his leg. It was Eunostos, looking up at the boy with teary eyes.
– Ibsen! Please!
– What? What are you doing? Get up, now!
– No, no! You're evil! – he screamed. – You took advantage of my kindness!
– What are you talking about? You're a map vendor, shouldn't you go and sell maps? Get up!
– I won't let go! It was my big chance to grow from a map vendor into a tour guide, but you took that away from me! You only ever think about yourself, but never about those around you!
– Stop talking like you know me! We just met!
– And you were my future, my everything! But you treated me like and object, like a toy!
His crying gathered a crowd around them. The people stared at Ibsen with scornful eyes, looking down on him, as if he was the worst human alive. Not the first impression you want to be remembered for.
– Stop crying! We look like a lame couple after breakup!
– You were my everythiiing!
– Oh, I'm gonna'…
As the crowd grew larger, a little girl appeared and quickly shot a polaroid of the two boys. As the camera brightly flashed, Ibsen raised his head in horror.
– No, no, no! Little girl, please tear that picture apart! Burn it! Destroy it!
Ibsen raised his voice, which made her scared. She ran away, disappearing behind a large group of people.
– Nooo! Eunostos, I cannot believe you! Get up this instant! You can come with me, just stop crying! Damn it… from where she was standing, it must have looked like you went down on me! You just ruined that poor girl's childhood!
– I'm sorry – he dusted off his blue jacket –, I was only trying to help.
– To help? With what? Crying? – he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. – Well, we can't change the past, so it's no use crying about it. Come on, Eunostos! I don't want to traumatize any more children. Lead the way!
– Yessir! – he jumped in front of Ibsen. – Try to keep up!
– Just shut up and go!
And so they set off to Purgatory. What they didn't notice was a woman, standing where the crowd disbanded. She took out a small mirror from her trouser pocket, checked the condition of her makeup, straightened her curly hair and went after the two boys. She quietly muttered to herself.
– You think I'm unreliable, yet I could make your life so much easier, Master! The day I became your servant was the day I finally started living. You are not just my love, you're my everything! I love you! I love you more than anything! And I will show you! I will prove you my love, no matter what it takes!