The silence that hung between us was difficult to break. Relentlessly, it bit and knawed at the air around us, refusing to let up for even a moment.
The first time, I managed to push my luck and breakthrough... This time, I doubt that's possible.
It was still the early morning. The harsh glow of the Floridian sun felt distant, but sweat still formed on my brow from the haze of newfound uncertainty and I found my eyes focusing solely on the purple haze in front of me.
Charlotte walked a few paces ahead, her steps measured but deliberate, as if she were carefully treading a path only she could see.
Over the course of this short adventure, I'd seen all sorts of sides to Charlotte. It was then that I realized that I didn't truly know Charlotte. If you'd asked me a few weeks ago if I knew who Charlotte was, I'd confidently tell you that we were absolute strangers. At some point, I guess I began overestimating what I knew about Charlotte. I'd turned her into a caricature of herself.
Her words echoed in my head.
What would his ideal world be?
She spoke in reference to the Tiger and his story.
The Tiger's story wasn't unfamiliar to me. It was a life of triumph and loss that led to a well of regrets. It was the kind of tale I thought was inevitable for anyone who dared to dream too big, but it seemed that Charlotte would disagree with me.
I couldn't blame her. My way of thinking was cowardly after all, and Charlotte was certainly not a coward.
But the idea of rewriting reality, of taking both worlds without losing anything? It's a childish daydream that rejects reality. An idea that's best left on one's bedside before they start their day.
No matter how much I think about it, it just doesn't make any sense.
And yet, despite the absurdity, both Layla and Charlotte seem to covet the idea.
"Hey, you good back there?" Charlotte's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She had stopped at the edge of a small park, where a group of kids were playing tag beneath the shadow of an old oak tree.
"Yeah," I replied, a little too quickly. Her sharp gaze told me she didn't buy it, but she let it slide.
"Good. Then let's sit for a minute. I need a quick break."
?
As I came back from the catacombs of my mind, I gave Charlotte another look over.
Her legs were shaking and she looked to be sweating even more than I was.
"You remember before," she said after a moment, her voice quiet. "When I carried you while we ran from Fang? I... never really recovered from that, you know. My legs have been sore all day, and it feels like they're about to give out…"
I nodded, unsure of what to say. She spoke as if admitting this weakness was a kind of defeat. Like scars on a warrior's back, the words seemed to shame her even as she forced them out.
Anyway, we found a bench near the edge of the park. Charlotte sat with her arms crossed, and I did my best not to look or stare at her and wound her pride any further.
The children's laughter filled the silence between us as they darted around the oak tree, their carefree energy a sharp contrast to the tension in the air.
...
"So... Do you go to the park often?", Charlotte asked abruptly, her tone casual but her eyes focused on the kids.
"Not really... Oh, I did recently. It was a glorious trip with the empress."
"That red-haired vampire woman... You're her servant right? How'd you meet?"
"During a nightly venture, I stumbled upon a foreboding graveyard. At the entrance, there was a powerful guardian hound that even I struggled to defeat. Once I managed to best it, I found her coffin, magnificently adorned, waiting inside. Using my super strength, I pried it open. And from there, the rest is history."
"So basically you freed her from her slumber or whatever? After that, I guess you let her into your home and have had all sorts of adventures. Am I on the right track?"
"Precisely."
"And her other servants? How many other ones are there?"
"I was the first. The second was the Maiden Jean and the third was Fang. Ah, you don't know the Maiden—well, allow me to tell you a tale of—"
"No, there really isn't any need," Charlotte interrupted quickly, waving her hand.
Charlotte leaned back against the bench, her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the children playing in the park. There was a thoughtful frown on her face as though something was troubling her.
It was an expression that I'd grown used to seeing on her face over the course of this small adventure.
"Charlotte... Why are we out here? What did you want to show me?" I spoke to her in a distant voice, dropping all pretexts and personas.
Charlotte exhaled through her nose, a short, quiet sigh. "We're almost there. Just give me another moment."
I didn't want to argue with her—I really didn't—but her expression pained my heart to see.
"Alright...", I meekly replied, repressing the feelings stirring up in my gut. "If that's how it is..."
I quieted down and allowed her to take her time to catch her breath. With each passing second, I found myself clenching my fist tighter.
When Charlotte finally stood up, she wobbled dangerously and nearly fell over.
Seeing this, I instinctively helped to steady her, I only let go once she shot me a venomous glare.
"Sorry. We can rest for a little longer you know. There isn't any rush."
"No, let's go. There's no need to waste time on my account."
The moment that she finished talking, she began marching forward. In both her mannerisms and her tone of voice, she refused to back down.
Faced with her stern demeanor, I felt powerless. It was like I lacked the ability to speak up and help the people around me. That feeling, more than being friendless or antisocial or whatever else I've complained about, makes me truly powerless.
We left the park behind, the children's laughter fading into the background. The weight of Charlotte's resolve bore down on me as we walked through the quiet neighborhood, her movements stiff and pained but unwavering.
People on the street gave us sidelong glances as we walked past. Contrasting her beautiful dress and nice face, Charlotte was slowly deteriorating as we marched along. As we went from block to block, it looked as though she was about to give out at any moment.
'Was she feeling bad from the start? How did she hold out for long? If we'd come straight here, it would've been much easier for her and yet it was her that rejected that idea. In the name of fairness to me, she rejected it.'
Soon enough, we reached an eye-catching neighborhood.
The neighborhood around us was serene, almost idyllic, with nicely kept lawns and out-of-season holiday decorations. It was the kind of place where people greeted each other in the mornings and gossiped over fences.
Charlotte stopped in front of a particular house, her gaze fixed on it with an intensity that made my stomach churn. The "For Sale" sign out front leaned at an awkward angle, with graffiti scrawled across it in harsh, angular letters that read: "KEEP OUT".
With open curiosity, I let my thoughts slip, "I wonder what lost soul would graffiti a place like this?"
"I did. It wasn't my best moment." She didn't elaborate. Instead, she made her way up the cracked path to the door, her determination unwavering.
Taking out a key, she fumbled with it before using it to unlock the door.
She didn't look back at me as she walked through the front door and into the house.
For some reason, an unease fell over me.
The walls here were no exception to the graffiti. Words like "RUN," "DON'T LOOK," and "LIARS LIVE HERE" were scrawled in black and red across the surfaces. The graffiti dripped as though it had been written hastily.
"What... is this place?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The oppressive silence of the house made every sound feel too loud.
Charlotte didn't answer right away. She stepped further into the room, her fingers trailing across the walls in open reminiscence. Finally, she said, "It's my old house. Where my family lived up until half a year ago."
When I opened my mouth, I intended to spew the usual delusions that I preferred to say, but nothing came out.
Turning around, Charlotte looked at me with an extreme sharpness in her gaze. Her lips were pressed together tightly in reluctance, but she didn't stand down.
"Veri, it's dangerous you know."
She spoke odd and abrupt words and it took a moment to understand what she was talking about.
"Serving Cacophony? It's not that—"
Before I could get that thought out of my mind, I thought back to everything that's happened so far. Counting it up all together, I can't really say something so dismissive as 'It's not that bad! Trust me I'll be fine!'
Instead, I went at it from a different angle, "—Are you worried about me?"
There was a silence.
"We've been in the same class since elementary school. Even if we didn't speak with each other, we've been in orbit for a while. Because of that, I wouldn't consider the two of us to be completely detached from one another... In short, we're involved with each other, whether we like it or not."
"If you're only worried about me then—"
"When I'm here, I get filled up with all sorts of memories from the past. That's why I wanted to take you here. If we're here then I can tell it to you bluntly.", Charlotte looked me dead in the eye and bore a serious expression.
"You're a good person Veri."
I was taken aback, that was something that I never expected her to say.
"I know you're a good person because I've been watching you over the course of this past half a year."
Charlotte paused, her gaze unwavering as she studied me. For a moment, I couldn't tell if her words carried admiration, caution, or something in between.
I was the first to speak up, "Half a year? What do you mean? Why would you even do something like that? I'm not... I don't see any reason why you'd be looking my way..."
"Half a year ago, we moved out of this house, and around that time, you befriended a woman on a bench outside a medical center," Charlotte continued, her voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite place. "Jean. My sister."
The revelation hit me like a punch to the gut. My mind raced, trying to process the sudden shift. Jean? Her sister? That same Jean who I'd go to entertain every morning and who smiled and laughed with such charm and grace.
I blinked, trying to wrap my head around the words. "Jean's your sister?" I asked the question sounding hollow even to me. It was hard to understand—Jean, perfect and pure-hearted Jean, being tied to Charlotte.
I never thought the two looked all that similar, but when I think about it more... As I envision the two in my mind, I do start to see the similarities...
The biggest difference between the two was Charlotte's blindingly violet hair.
"Even if that is the case... If you didn't want to tell me for so long, what changed?"
"That day with Fang. I remember what the empress said. She brought up Jean's name... At that moment I knew that Jean had become associated with the empress. Now, you even just told me that she'd become the empress's servant."
I waited, giving her the space to explain. Charlotte, given her tough exterior, had never been the type to share much, especially with someone like me. But this? This felt different. Her words seemed to carry a weight that wasn't just about the usual bravado she hid behind.
"You already know why my sister goes to the medical center, right?"
I hesitated to answer her question, but I muttered the answer. "She has a heart problem. It won't be long before she dies."
Charlotte's eyes were downcast for a brief moment. "Yeah... We're lucky that she's made it this far, it's already beyond any of the predictions."
There was a sadness in her voice as she spoke, one that my voice shared. Still, I did my best to put that aside and continue forward.
"I'm not understanding. How does Jean tie into any of this? Did your family move after her diagnosis?"
Wordlessly, Charlotte nodded before opening her mouth again.
"I don't know how you see her, but I'm going to tell you exactly who my sister is," Charlotte continued, her voice quieter now. "She's the kind of person who could do anything she sets her mind to—perfect in every way. She has a heart that's pure, and she doesn't doubt herself. She's the kind of person that parents dream of when they look at their children. I haven't even gotten into how beautiful she is. She blows me out of the water. And her talent... It's like she was loved by the world."
I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't know what kind of person Jean truly was beyond what I had seen. But Charlotte's reverence, the obvious love she held for her, made me see a completely new perspective of Jean.
Still, as I listened I couldn't help but notice the manner in which Charlotte put herself down in order to raise Jean up. It was unlike the Charlotte that I'd grown accustomed to.
"Jean is..." Charlotte trailed off, her voice faltering for the briefest moment before she regained her composure.
"Veri, I know you're a good guy. I know that you're someone worthy of my trust and I know that despite your stupid act you've got a well of ability that I don't have... But, I won't allow you to blindly throw Jean into danger."
I leaned forward, grasping the tension in her words.
She continued, "I don't care if you want to keep living with that vampire woman or if you want to keep being her servant. Truthfully, I don't have the right to tell you not to, but it's different with her. She already doesn't have long left and you just introduce her to that... thing... She's already on death's door and you have the audacity to try and speed up the process. Do you even care about her at all Veri?"
The fire in Charlotte's eyes caused me to take a step back. In that instant, I faltered.
I wanted to reassure her in some way. I wanted to just tell her that it'd all be okay and that there wasn't anything to worry about. But...
I couldn't sell her on some idealist fantasy. In some ideal world, I'm sure that I could protect Jean from all dangers and troubles, but reality wasn't so kind. Simply being involved with Cacophony brought a mountain of potential dangers. I knew that no matter how badly I wished it wasn't the case, we'd run into more officers from the Magic Order. We'd likely have to face other rogue mages like Fang. Then there's Layla and that group that she mentioned she was a part of. I've got no clue what we'll do about them.
I was filled to the brim with doubts about the future and even locked in a battle with myself over my own shortcomings.
So then, what should I do? What should I say?
I swallowed hard, but even so, I couldn't bring any words out from my lips.
The silence was deafening, a void between us that not even the sound of distant wind chimes could fill. Charlotte's sharp gaze pinned me in place, her emotions swirling just beneath the surface of her expression. She had bared a part of herself I hadn't expected to see, and now the weight of her words sat heavily on my chest.
Given everything... wouldn't it be better if Jean and I simply never spoke again? If I'm the issue, if being around me is dangerous then wouldn't it be better if we simply severed that connection?
Like cutting a loose thread, cutting a connection is the same way. I mean, people do it all the time, right? When a relationship becomes inconvenient for one party, they'll just move on. People do it all the time...
...
A scene flashed in my mind.
It was the day when I first met Jean. It was like a scene straight out of a book.
She was sitting alone on her bench looking out thoughtlessly. Her long brown hair would fly as it was caught on even the most gentle breeze of the wind. Her soft features and modest attire left no room to be thought of as anything but alluring.
But when I looked at her and into her eyes...
She looked so lonely...
At that time, I took a step forward and reached out to her with my characteristic flair.
Empowered by that lone memory, I forced myself to speak, though my voice wavered. "Charlotte, I don't know what the future holds. I don't even know if I can promise to protect Jean from everything. You're right—being with Cacophony, being around me, it's dangerous. But... I—"
Just then I placed my hand on my chest and took a step forward. The look on my face was everything but confident. I displayed mounds of insecurity and hesitation, Charlotte's harsh glare only grew stronger with every breath I took and I wanted to curl up in a ball and avoid reality.
But even so, I spoke. I spoke because staying quiet wasn't going to help anyone. I spoke because the thought of a lonely maiden made my heart ache. And I spoke because a short time ago in a restricted bathroom, a violet-haired girl forced me to look her in the eyes.
"I know that I'm acting selfishly and I know that you won't be able to take anything I say with even the slightest bit of credibility. I'm weak and I'm no hero... I'm pathetic and I'm so reckless that I'm sure the minute I walk out of here I'll run head-first into some crazy situation while shouting about some weird secret organization or some boundless power I've been hiding. But Charlotte, I won't abandon her. I don't want to leave her alone or back down. It's selfish and I know that it might be the wrong answer, but it's what I want to do."
I thought back to the words that Layla had told me. Her talk about an ideal world... I don't know if I can agree with her words or if I wish to reject them. I don't know where I stand, but I do have somewhere that I want to reach.
I could feel it in my chest. It was at this moment that a spark of resolve finally began to be born in my pathetic, weak heart.
Charlotte crossed her arms, her posture stiff. "It's not that simple, Veri. You act like everything will work out if you just try hard enough, but life doesn't work that way. Sometimes effort isn't enough. Or maybe you're trying to say that being with that empress isn't dangerous, that it's something you can just wave away with all your greatness as the Dark King?"
"No, it certainly is. I won't downplay it. From here on out, I'm certain that there will be more dangerous situations and I can't say that Jean won't be involved."
"So you mean to say that your empress will be able to protect her."
"Cacophony is strong. She's by far the strongest person I know. In all honesty, I can't imagine anyone in this entire world being stronger than her. But, I won't say that she'll always be right there to deal with every situation."
"Then what is it? Why should I believe in you?"
I took a deep breath in and an even heavier exhale. "With all my authority as the Dark King Veri, I speak these words from the very depths of my mind: I have no trust in my ability to protect Jean. These hands of mine aren't enough to do something so bold. But, Cacophony is strong and Fang is a stubborn guy with a bright mind. On top of that, you don't give Jean anywhere near enough credit. She's a great and Holy Maiden, but even more than that, she's got more grit than you think."
I pointed at Charlotte and matched her glare with one of my own. "So don't go looking at her like she's some broken doll. Even if I've got to use the most forbidden magic in the world, I won't let her die any time soon."
Charlotte flinched, her breath catching, but she quickly masked it with her usual stern demeanor. She opened her mouth to argue but then closed it again, her expression clouded with doubt.
The tension hung between us, thick and oppressive, neither of us willing to back down.
The tense stalemate rang through the space between us as sweat dripped from both of our brows. Given a bit more time, I was sure that I'd crack, but—
"That's just like you Veri... Even now, you're an amazing guy..."
Charlotte broke the tension with another statement that I didn't expect.
"Fine," she muttered. "If that's how it is, I won't tell you to change what you're doing. From now on though, I'd like to be involved."
"What are you talking about? You're already involved aren't you?"
Hearing that, Charlotte's eyes widened. Personally, I was a bit confused by her reaction. She had said it earlier and yet for some reason, hearing what I just said made it so she needed to take a moment to compose herself.
"Alright, Veri... I think we're done here... I won't bother you any more than this."
We stood there in the dim light of the abandoned house, the weight of unspoken words having finally been erased. For the first time, it felt like we had reached some kind of understanding, an unspoken truce in the silent battle we'd been waging since this journey began.
As my gaze traced around Charlotte, something near caught my eye. She'd been covering it with her palm—small, faded text scrawled on the wall in black ink. The words were uneven, written with trembling hands, but their meaning was unmistakable:
I DON'T WANT TO LOSE YOU.