Amidst these unbroken nights, something stirred. This dark, peculiar, even some may say rare, type of eventide, exists only through both evil and good. Perpetually always, and inevitable, yes. Yet this time was different. Felt stronger. Darker. And maybe now both could coexist, come to dance, to really live.
And where none of the two could truly be.
The last dashing stroke of the pen was stabbed into parchment, disowned angrily by its creator. Castaway, a strange, almost odd piece of paper drifted, riding the night rapids. It weaved through the darkened surge of high-rise buildings, searching. Seeking. That distinct individual.
A Siamese cat curled up on the windowsill, stargazing. Beside it, a dwarf bunny snored loudly, snuggling next to the sleeping crow, beak under its wing.
And finally Hyacinth.
Hyacinth settled on the ledge. The breeze rippled, taunting her as the paper fluttered nearer. It started to glisten silver, gleaming, and she couldn't hold off no longer. Snatching it out of the wind, disbelief dawned from her own audacity.
But it was done.
And she knew she would tell no one. She couldn't, and that'd probably be the end of it. But that wasn't it either.
A fat mouse with big ears peeked out of Hyacinth's shirt pocket, letting out a squeak of surprise. Yes, even Freyja knew. It was all just too clear.
She had to go.
And now, Hyacinth told herself. Not tomorrow, not in an hour.
Now.
Hyacinth fingered Mara's sleek Siamese fur, and sent her off into the cruel world alone with a trembling hand. Scanning the clearing below, Hyacinth nearly expected to see the familiar crowded landscape, shadowed still to the untrained eye.
Her mistake.
It was as if the shroud had suddenly dissipated and a pair of gleaming florid eyes stared back at Hyacinth. Haunting her. The characteristics were unmistakable for her to deny.
How could she? Hyacinth wanted to cry aloud.
She scrambled to the window. Thrusting a heavy Warren and sleeping Amilei in her knapsack, Hyacinth scoured her brain for anything she'd forgotten. Nope. Not really. Only the arising realities of her situation sinking in. Her shoulders sagged, and she forced down the alluring hysteria.
This was it.
With disjointed jerky motions, waves of dizziness flooded over her. The world spun and bobbed, sliding diagonal. Her brain was too unwilling to face the inevitable, see repeat what it'd seen too many times, to allow the vicious repetition of life. And act like nothing was wrong.
Feeling helpless, she shut her eyes tight, swallowing hard, trying to regain composure. Hyacinth focused on the reassuring tick of her watch. Tuh-TUT. Tuh-TUT. She counted to four inhaling, then exhaled for over double the amount. Eventually it started to subside. She felt her way to the window, leaning over the twisted railing blind, embracing the cold breeze chilling her skin and frosting her face. It was refreshing, almost paramount to the earlier sudden flightiness.
Hyacinth opened her eyes.
The view took her breath away. She'd seen it a million times, and it wasn't like this was her first. Only in a way, it was. She was. She felt it. She finally saw the indescribable, indefinable, the stuff no one could depict in any way, unless you've seen it for yourself. With your own eyes. The dark and beautiful.
Should one base life based off one moment?
The irony, Hyacinth breathed slowly, relishing the seconds sliding uncontrollably through her fingers. Oh yes, the irony. There was no way she'd ever want to leave this moment.
She lifted a beaker of ink in her hand and raised it up like a glass of wine, toasting. Allowing herself to be captivated even for just one droplet of time. So that she could think back, remember the better times, and the memories built upon the forgotten.
The price was too great.
The wait and see patience was too far in the future to wait. Might not ever come, even. Here in her own hands, she could attain something no one in Azdea could. Power over nothing but one's own life, freedom of choice. Whatever it's called, the meaning was the same. How could someone not refuse?
How could she refuse?
She'd have to snap out of it, revert to whatever people accepted as normal now.
Hyacinth found herself braced up against the side of the brick wal, steeling herself. Her fingers burned already, yet she gripped the thin cracks like she was hanging on for dear life. Because she was. The gusty cold winds penetrated through her thin cloak now, ruffling underneath. That alone almost knocked her grip plain off their perch, not to mention the weight of Warren and Amilei in her knapsack, heavier than ever.
Among the dire urgency to move, she found herself asking a question not directed to anyone in particular. But herself of course.
Who am I?
Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, and not from the cold. Her mind flickered back to a time long ago - a time lost to her, to everything and everyone. Tuck it away for better times. She couldn't do that. Every living moving thing she saw stood as a reminder of It. Quivering it's longing to return.
One day, Hyacinth promised the sky.
Resolved, she forced herself to unlock her quavering hands. Her right hand went first, barely moving down a brick. Hyacinth jammed it into place, suspicious that it was too numb to hold her weight. Miraculously as her left began to stir, it held. She proceeded to clearing two more bricks, each one after the other. Her feet churned, and before she knew it, three stories had passed.
With three more to go.
Clambering down the last two, she tumbled down the last, landing awkwardly. Hyacinth's left foot thudded on something painful, a thick and heavy tree branch. She lurched forward, arms outstretched. Hyacinth crashed into the dirt, and tucked in her knees. Not exactly giving her the best head start.
Hyacinth pulled on her rollerblades and skated slowly down the alley. There was a certain house she was looking for.
"Alaine." someone called up from the tree. Too loudly for Hyacinth's liking. The voice echoed through the night. Hyacinth whipped around, to see Arlue the lookout.
She sighed, clambering up the tree, "Be more quiet! I have to get supplies. I'm on a time schedule, you know."
"I have to get supplies" was just the least of it.
"Yeah, I know!" Arlue hissed, exasperated. Then she lowered her tone to a dramatic deficit, "Hey, Lennore came this way. She didn't see me, but I just wanted you to know. She was carrying boxlike with a handle on it."
Celestine Lennore. Different names went unacknowledged by Azdea, which was why among the Louivre, last names were used so that they'd go unrecognized if there was a leak within. Yet sometimes even that didn't prevail.
Hyacinth frowned, utterly confused, "Thanks for telling me."
"Any time, Alaine." Arlue replied. Her voice was so sincere, Hyacinth felt so undeservingly honored to be her friend. From the first time they met, she knew there was always something special about Arlue. And that special spot that Arlue held could not be taken, not by anybody. Hyacinth hoped that when it came down to the End, Arlue would be there.
Hugging the tree trunk, Hyacinth squirmed down onto the firm earthy ground, continuing on her way. As she neared the end of the alley, a small package was placed precariously on the tops of the rickety plywood fence. Hyacinth plucked it from its dangling resting place, feeling someone's eyes on her through the fence slits, watching her. She lifted it up and down with one hand experimentally. The package was lighter than she thought. A small ribbon dislodged from the wrapping, picking up a combination of dirt and gravel, unfolding to reveal writing.
In case she forgot what she was supposed to do this night.
Hyacinth closed it, averting her attention. But there was no way she could ever. The future would become the present, the present would become the past, and the past would stay the past. To haunt her forever until the Evermore, most likely.
Hyacinth had made her decision with dread, knowing this would be the worst thing she'd ever do in her life. Unlucky for her, she knew that was a wrong predicament.
She headed for the captain's doorstep. The whole way, Hyacinth felt there was some invisible wind trying to warn her against it, stop her before it was too late. She felt like an intruder, and she was one. Only it was too late, Hyacinth was adamant. She pulled a mask over her face, hopefully concealing her features. Too bad she didn't have a wig.
Her fingers met the fancy glass doorbell encasing, reaching for the rubber button that was to be her destruction. The echo of the doorbell shocked her ears, and a deafening gasp escaped her lips.
The hard metal thunk of the deadbolt detaching from the latch and the squeak of the knob turning made her head snap up. And there stood a very irritated woman in a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head.
"Pardon me, it's very urgent, miss. I must speak to the captain, please." Hyacinth blurted. The moment the word miss came out of her mouth, Hyacinth knew it was the wrong thing to say. The woman's lips pressed together in a very displeased frown, but nodded. Another question came to mind: where were the servants? Such a captain would surely be paid well enough by the RAD, Republic of Azdea. Perhaps it leaked by other means.
A little late to have second thoughts.
Why did Celestine make her do this again? She'd barely surpressed a deep growl at that point.
A man Hyacinth'd never seen came to the door, gripping its mahogany sheen like it'd be his lifeline, "I do not believe I recognize you from anywhere."
Wow that was sarcastic, being shrouded in a mask. Her fingers itched to adjust it, but she knew skin wasn't supposed to shift like that. It sure was getting hot in there.
"Please!" Hyacinth held out the small black box meaningfully, not knowing why she was being so desperate, "It's not what you think!"
The man's expression froze at its sight, yet not quite understanding still, "I don't know what you're asking miss."
"What do you want with my husband?" she reappeared at the doorway, much more angry now. He gently shoved her away, but with meaning. Maybe she felt something in his touch, but she relented and faded in the background. The captain refocused on me.
"Come in, and quickly now." he nodded reluctant assent.
Hyacinth gingerly stepped through the doorway, feeling like a trespasser still. The warmth of the hearth was relieving, contrast to the stark cold outside. But as the words she needed to stay spilled from her mind, somehow she couldn't find the way to form it in words.
Hyacinth took a deep breath, "Captain, this was meant for you, and that I shall deliver. So you will receive, and dispose of it by means no later than 2:18 a.m."
A quick glance at her watch. It was a little past one a.m. now.
The captain's receptors seemed to take all the information in. The importance of being timely. He took a dramatic unecessary step forward, holding her chin up to look at his tall figure.
"Why are you helping me?"
"The Louivrynns aren't so ruthless like you think, Captain." Hyacinth bantered, too casually. His eyes sprung up, and she immediately recognized how improper she must seem to him.
With a grin that was real now, Hyacinth added with a little more seriousness just for the man's own sanity, "Ah, and maybe not so uptight."
Well, that wasn't true, Hyacinth knew, and she couldn't show it. Maybe that was the true difference between them.
"The girl has five minutes with you now!" the wife yelled angrily from the other room, yet not showing her face. Ah, so Hyacinth was considered a threat. She must think her husband was capable of having an affair, or that she was flirting. No, Hyacinth was far from that.
He pressed his lips in a thin line, raising his voice to false cheerfulness, "It'll only be a minute dear. Work stuff, you see."
Probably not the best move on his part, but it didn't matter to Hyacinth.
The captain shifted his focus back to the odd messenger girl, the harbinger of the news that would save him from his death.
His eyes narrowed, "What is your name?"
She hesitated, rolling her eyes, "Which one, Captain Markus Ivanovich?"
The captain shook his head with disgust, muttering, "Louivrynn trickery," under his breath.
"Good evening Captain." Hyacinth tipped her hat, and let herself out of the foyer. As she went to open the door, she looked back to see the wife and husband both watching her go.
And she left.
Knowing too late. It would go off an hour early, wouldn't it? Rhetorical. 835Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV6Jqk0lLTW
Hyacinth checked her watch again 2:17:51. Nine seconds left.
Femme, somebody, save me. Do your magic now. Please, please. She took off running, but tripped over the hidden rise of concrete underfoot. Sprawled on the ground, she awaited her fate.
There was nothing she could do, and that was meant to be.
The whole place exploded in fire, and took Hyacinth with it.
ns 18.68.41.148da2
