Vanilla was in her chamber, pouring a dark brown red liquid out of a vial onto the Belladonna plant which she dug out from Windsy's garden upon her request three days ago. The leaves glistened in the dark. The black bird totem which was inches away from the flower pot rolled out of its place. A lock of hair came loose from the neck of the wooden bird.
Jared brought Nina to the parlour where Vanilla was now sitting. Seeing them she came forward. "Jared... We have a rather deeper problem here, don't we?"
"Vanille, I'm perplexed...and afraid. What shall I do...tell me what shall I do to bring everything back to its normal state?" He caressed Nina's head. His soul was visibly shaken.
"Would you rather..?" Vanilla dipped a white cloth in the glass bowl filled with cold water while placing Windsy on the bed.
"I'm not certain..." He said with a shudder.
"Need not to worry. I will take care of this," she assured the magistrate.
Oh I shall intervene with a little information here, regarding Jared Washington, the district magistrate. He was transferred here merely few months back. A man with false determination, thin patience, low esteem for those he's not find of and a true atheist. Even though he'd fallen for the lovely lady while she was paying a visit to the church. Quite ironical one might say. That is when the tale began. His fondness towards her commenced and it multiplied soon. One eventful evening he invited Windsy to the Lake...to make the announcement. That day Windsy was last seen with that ever wide lasting smile. Now the man she utterly devoted herself to was denying her crucial change. The storm was coming to an extremity.
He hovered over the second storey railing, languidly. His thoughts were clouded, stricken and conflicted. He couldn't bring himself to the thought that he was losing her...and the light of hope.
The thunder growled viciously but couldn't bring a visible difference in his expression. Then he detected a familiar presence behind him. Without turning he asked, "What was wrong? How's she?"
She answered in a mild cold undertone, "Nothing serious. She's conscious now."
"I believe you treated her well Vanille but I'm not convinced about the former part—how can you say it's nothing serious?!" He heaved a sigh. She put her hand on his back. His suit, coat was already damped by the splatters of the rain which was pouring in twists and turns. His wet tangled hair were gathered on his forehead. He blinked at her. Dewy drops of rain dripped down his lashes. Cold round bits of water took shelter on his plump fuzzy lips.
Vanille felt an ache deep down in her heart—something akin to the feeling which she felt before—for the first time for a viscount. A century has passed since then.
She whispered, "Jared, you are soaked. Let us head inside lest you fight a cold."
As I said, she certainly felt something she shouldn't have. Her tainted heart resented those it desired. It damned them all who fell under her ethereal charms.
Jared pursed his lips but followed her inside. Windsy was drinking tea by the fireplace. Jared did not glance at her and headed straight to the chamber reserved for him. Vanilla scurried after him.
She didn't knock. There he was getting rid of his dampened expensive clothes. He had a long masculine structure featuring a sharp Romanian nose and jawline. His complexion was like the smoothest pearl being levigated along with yellow carnelions only to be stirred by the silver spoon in a glass of saffron milk. Upon meeting her eyes he cleared his throat. But her eyes were rooted to his flawless sturdy presence.
"Vanille...I..."
"I assumed that your appetite dissipated. Still I concocted a rather subtle drink for your taste. Shall I bring it now?"
"I would prefer that. Thank you," he answered distinctly.
Vanilla left and he withdrew s cigar out of the black case that he purchased weeks before. The door screeched again as a feminine silhouette was overcasted on the wall.
"Vanille, I would consider you to spare me alone for the hour please. I appreciate your concern though," he said without looking who stood there. The door fastened behind. The loud creak made him turn around.
The pallid features of Nina Windsy floated like a spirit above his eyes. Her curls were being drifted by the cold breeze. She appeared eminently placid. The blue veins on the back of her palm were apparent as waves of restlessness swayed in her eyes.
"Jar-r-ed.." she stammered while uttering her beloved's name. Her legs buckled.
Jared tottered to her side. "Nina,are you...no. You aren't alright."
"Jared." Her faint whisper was blurred. "I want to..."
"Shh... It's alright. You are going to be alright," he uncertainly assured. "The physician will soon be here."
"No... I would..never, Jared! She's no more my bosom friend. She's no more my Vanille! She's...she's something far nefarious. Sinister! Unholy!" She shivered.
"Nina...do you recall what you did some while ago?" He asked.
She shook her head. "I don't. Can you elaborate?"
"You certainly remember nothing?!"
"I was reading a book. Late afternoon... The sky was intensely staid. I saw...Vanille—performing something like a ritual—with Onyx...among other things—incense sticks, red powdery substances, vials filled with crimson fluids, stones..."
"Why do you believe she's not your bosom friend Vanille anymore?" Asked Jared.
"You don't believe me Jared? Have faith in me love..." She pleaded. "I don't know what she has done to me but I can feel it in my bones... Help me please. I'm losing myself with each passing second." She grasped both of his hands as she wailed, "Help me Jared."
But he had no strength to hold her and keep her from begging... After what he perceived, it was tough. Vanilla's voice echoed in the hallway. "Are you there Mr. Washington?" She smirked in her head.
He came out of his chamber leaving Windsy alone with her thoughts. In the dining hall Vanilla was doing some chores when Jared interrupted her with that crystal glass in his hand in which Vanilla served him the drink a while ago. "You haven't touched the drink yet," Vanilla complained. She was aware of Windsy's nonsense confession to Jared.
"Vanille, I hope I'm not causing you trouble. I felt like talking to you."
"Certainly not Jared," she offered her most scrupulous smile.
"Nina...she seemed panicked and frightened for some undefined reasons. I know not of her psychic condition...but, is there hope?"
"One can only hope, Jared," she said. He sipped the very last drop from the glas. "This is something I never tasted before. It's quite sapid."
"Then I'm glad to be of service."
The night screamed the word of the remaining hours to speak to the spirits of darkness. The lamp of Windsy's bed chamber flickered. Jared was in a vain attempt of falling asleep. He caught a whiff of aroma while wriggling with the velvet blanket that covered his head. Sandalwood, rosemary, rose..., His mind repeated.
Vanilla, in her room, extracted something which looked round in shape, then put it into the stone grinder to smooth out a fine perfumed powder—blackish blue in colour. There on the short table was a golden goblet filled with almond milk; just beside it—another glass filled with some sap green water. Below the glass were nestling three different strands of roots—nearly absorbed up in the water. She emptied the sap earthy green water into the pit of a goblet, along with that fine perfumed substance. Jared pursued the whiff of aroma only to discover himself standing in front of Vanilla's room.
The intensity of the aroma was affecting his nostrils. He failed to supress his curiosity and mildly tapped on her door. It was unlocked so he helped himself in only to gather no sight of Vanilla. But he found the source of the dizzying fragrance—three incense sticks burning on the stand near the table. A mirror hung upside down in the opposite direction. A flower pot with no flower inside and lastly a black marble stone just in the middle of a circle drawn on the floor. His eyes danced with intrigue when he spotted it. His entire body turned cold when he touched the stone. At first he was against it but the sheer enticement he received when his mortal gaze landed on it, he succumbed to his desire. The heat that was pulsating from the stone and was absorbed into his body—he felt his outer frame becoming rigid and cold while his blood remained warm. A rather eeriely icy breath on his neck persuaded his will to drop the stone despite its intense aura.
He turned his head around to catch sight of Vanilla standing in front of him. He averted his gaze but could only stammer out, "Vanille... I was hoping to find you."
"But not like this, did you?" Her intimidating eyes pierced through his soul, unannounced.
"No, Vanille... I didn't mean to touch your...things," he excused.
"I believe you. Now would it hurt you to unfasten the reason of your sleepless wanderings that led you to my chamber?"
"Worry was gnawing at me... Some things scarcely makes any sense Vanille. Never before had I confronted the inconvenience of falling asleep."
"You are a very unique human being, Jared. And I cannot blame your conscious mind to be a victim of these distresses."
"You speak of me like I am someone special. But are you also not one?" He asked.
She released a half conflicted smile and said, "I may have all the answers that you seek and I somehow ween that you have quite a number of questions stocked in your showcase."
Jared flashed one of his enchanting grins. "I affirm so."
Now he saw that Vanilla was holding the golden goblet filled with that glistenin bizarre concoction. Instead of asking about it straightly he quirked his eyebrow.
"This lovely creation contains the mystical source of sheer power in regard of vanquishing your distresses, Jared," she revealed.
"How?" Asked Jared meekly, under her influential stardust stare.
"One single sip holds the strength of none earthly beings...the cure of all illness. You are aware of your task noteably," she finished handing him the goblet. His hands did not tremble once as he made his exit.
The storm died down completely but the dawn still seemed far away. The air was carrying the message of an old tale being repeated over and over again. The dark brown satin curtains of Windsy's bed chamber received a massive thrust by the enigmatic wind, even though the casement windows were fully jammed. A thin red line appeared at the centre of the outer glass frame of the clock on the wall. There from under the curtain a thick sap green root emerged—followed by it emerged three more in pairs and seven more thereafter. Their aim was two meters away from their reach. The tik-tok of the Germanian clock gifted to her by Jared suddenly stopped. The first root extended itself making its way to the sleeping Windsy. The other ones followed it.
Her eyes...beautiful topaz eyes were unaware of all happenings. Her shallow breaths were abducted by the hefty potent origins of an unfathomable veracious energy. They competed against each other, to wring out the fragment of the muffled gasps. The red line unfurled, proliferated from one to thirteen coinciding with the pair of the roots. The red vigour was descending to the depths of black while the parallel breathing of refound vigour was left harmonizing the music of emancipation.
The morning arrived with a sullen harmony. Flowers were arranged... Red, white, violet, orange, blue...every kind. The unread journals were abandoned with those buried yearnings. And the house was pervaded with Vanilla's exquisite intensifying incenses. The golden goblet was under Jared's table in his bed chamber, shattered.
(End of Nina Windsy's Anomaly)