29 March 1686 of the 6th Era, Nightingale Road, South District

  Antony watched her from the corner of his eye. He wanted to say something. Explain himself. Assure her that his behaviour was to be blamed on him, and him alone. However, words simply didn’t want to come out.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she tried to stand up, but lost balance and almost fell.

  “You definitely can help me if you get some rest,” Antony caught her, helping her restore balance. “I don’t think my heart can take it if you faint again.”

  “I’m just dizzy.”

  Antony inwardly sighed to that, but dropped the matter. With his support, Charlotte returned to bed and lay down, wrapping herself in the many blankets. Both of them observed the other with growing concern.

  You’re still heavily under her influence, aren’t you? Dear Lady of Magic, why does it have to be this way…

  “There’s no need to apologise,” he forced a smile on his face. “You said the right things. It’s just that I’m not used to talking about any of it. And I’m not sure if I want to have that conversation now.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know,” his gaze softened. “It is such a weird feeling. We’ve exchanged so many letters, shared so many thoughts and desires on paper that I feel I’ve known you for a lifetime. And yet… And yet, we met in person just a few days ago. I didn’t even know what you looked like up until then.”

  “Did the image you created in your mind for me at least match the real thing?” She chuckled.

  “In a way. You definitely act the way I expected you to.”

  He walked over to the fireplace and threw another log. The flame wrapped itself around the new fodder, rising up and making a cheerful crackling noise.

  “Though… perhaps I should,” he once again sat on the edge of the bed, but this time with his back to her, looking at the floorboards under his feet. The silence stretched for a while longer before he continued with a heavy sigh, “If anything, you need to understand how much you can rely on me when it comes to direct confrontation, seeing that this is turning out to be one hell of a dangerous mess.

  “There’s not much to tell. I haven’t fought in any wars, nor have I witnessed anything horrendous as a child. No, that’s not true. I saw many horrendous things. But I haven’t witnessed anything as a child that would explain my current behaviour. I’ve survived the White Bog Calamity and I make no secret of it, but you already know that.”

  Charlotte silently nodded.

  “It was a harrowing experience that I hope I’ll never have to go through again. I wouldn’t want anyone to go through something like that. But it’s not that, either.

  “My late wife, Jessamine… She didn’t perish in an accident like I told you and like everyone believes, including Andrew who already knew me at that time. She was murdered.”

  His last words were barely an audible whisper as he clasped his hands, leaning forward. All of the emotions he kept bottled for so many years were suddenly set loose. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. Pain. Longing. Despair. All of them intertwined, creating a knot that made his chest hurt. Antony closed his eyes. He felt tears stream down his cheeks, and his shoulders shook violently as he heard himself weep.

  Heavy silence filled the room. He knew not how much time had passed. Maybe a few seconds. Maybe a minute. Maybe even half an hour. Just at one point, he felt Charlotte’s arms gently wrap around his shoulders as she leaned on his back. The pleasant chill that spread from her body slowly, but surely, brought him back to reality.

  Antony tried to steady his breath and relax. Then, he slowly lifted his hand, touching her fingers, and finally took her hand in his.

  “I went through every possible circle of hell on that day,” his voice was shaking. “I was returning home, or, rather, entering the house, when everything around me turned into shrapnel. There was an explosion that… It all collapsed. Not just my house, an entire street. Ruled as a freak Wild Magic wave from a spell gone awfully wrong. I don’t know how I survived, but somehow I did. I scrambled over the debris, searching for her, calling her name until I couldn’t anymore. I finally found her, still alive, but all I could do was… All I could do was make sure her end was not a painful one,” he whispered.

  “Did she…”

  “There was a curse. Nothing I could do about. Nothing a cleric of the Lady of the Golden Moon who happened to be nearby and rushed to my aid could help with,” he straightened up somewhat, and Charlotte let go of him, giving him space. “It’s been centuries, but it got only marginally better. At first, I distanced myself from everyone I knew, fearing that by just being there, next to them, I was bringing death upon them. I had no doubts as to who was the real target. I upset a few people… Influential people. Sadly, it was Jessamine and a dozen innocent souls who paid the price.

  “For a while, I continued to… exist, I guess. Not willing to fade away, but not willing to raise my head, either. Until Andrew proposed me a position at the Royal Alchemy Society. Go to Ledavia, start from scratch, completely change the field of work. And you know,” he laughed, “it actually worked. I began to make friends and acquaintances again. Got myself entangled in a thing or two, started helping the SIU on the side… As long as there was no danger involved. As long as I remained out of the picture. I couldn’t take it.”

  The fire continued to crackle, filling the room with warmth. Charlotte seemed even more concerned now.

  “I didn’t mean to be overbearing,” he shifted, turning towards her. “I can confirm that you’re not suffering from memory loss or modification. You and I have never met before. Although now that I think of it, perhaps I did catch a glimpse of you some three hundred years ago when I and Ethan dropped by at the university. Or it could have been another winterborn sylph with equally shimmery white hair.

  “It’s just that… Every time I felt my heart stir ever so slightly, I ran. Every time I felt attracted to someone, I instantly saw Jessamine’s face as she was drawing her last breath. I felt her blood on my hands. The fabric of her dress, torn and dirty. I felt helpless and hopeless, knowing that there was nothing I could do, no matter how hard I tried. Nothing short of reverting back time, which she would have objected to. And no matter how much I wanted her to live, I had to respect that wish of hers. The fear that I might cause someone else the same suffering…

  “When I couldn’t find you earlier today, that very fear resurfaced. I knew deep down that you’re more than capable of defending yourself. But at the same time I also knew that you had to fight two extremely dangerous ghouls in the span of what, two days? I wasn’t sure how much more you could handle. And in that moment, I might have allowed my imagination to get the better of me. Even though you had warned me that you were planning to have a look around. Even though there were dozens of agents of the Nightmare Poets and the SIU on the scene, and surely at least one of them would have noticed something amiss. But I panicked. The North District can get dangerous very quickly if you’re not careful or don’t know where you’re going.”

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  “Is that why you wanted to refuse my initial request?”

  “I fear so.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Antony stared at her, forgetting to blink for a few seconds.

  “All this time, I believed it was because of what you saw. Because of what I am.”

  “What? No, of course not! I won’t deny, seeing that was shocking, but it’s not something that scares me. Only saddens me that you were burdened with such responsibility against your will.”

  “Why did you change your mind in the end?”

  “I’m not sure. I realised I was developing feelings for you a while ago. I wanted to stop replying to your letters. Wanted to find an excuse to go back to a more formal exchange. However, each time I tried that, I ended up throwing that piece of paper into the bin, having barely written a sentence.

  “And the way you looked at me at the restaurant. You were expecting a rejection, and seemingly came to terms with it. But there was still the tiniest glimmer of hope in your eyes. I simply couldn’t bring myself to extinguish it,” Antony thought for a moment, then awkwardly smiled. “Perhaps that spark of curiosity you mentioned finally decided it had enough. While listening to Mr Dr’lain’s explanation today, I heard something that resonated deeply within me. The way he said he wanted to finally do more than catch cheating wives and husbands.

  “I wanted to do more than stop embezzlement or coerce Andrew into attending yet another important, but undeniably boring meeting, even if it was simply to help you catch a burglar.”

  “The way you talk about him, herding cats sounds easier.”

  “Because it is!” Antony laughed heartily, feeling the pressure finally lift. “You cannot imagine how stubborn that fool is. Passionate about his alchemy experiments and the RAS as a concept. A spokesperson for any new law and regulation that makes our lives even marginally better or safer. But the moment there’s actual work to be done?.. He’s nowhere to be found.

  “I literally have to hold his hand at times to make sure he enters the damn meeting room. And then I need to stand guard to make sure he doesn’t get the bright idea to quietly leave in the middle of it because he’s grown bored of the numbers,” he raised his hands in frustration. “He’s a visionary and a scientist, a great leader and organiser, but if he could wish away the bits that don’t excite him, which is doing the actual work, he would do so in a heartbeat.”

  Charlotte couldn’t help but chuckle while following his overly dramatic gestures.

  “It’s fun to talk about it, but sometimes his antics drive me up the wall,” Antony continued to sheepishly grin. “He’s a wonderful employer, though, and I dare say my best friend alongside Greg. Dear Lady of Magic, how lonely this sounds when you think about it.”

  “You don’t seem to be lonely.”

  “No.”

  Neither had anything to add. Charlotte traced the pattern on the blanket with her finger, her head probably buzzing with a hundred thoughts that rose from the conversation, while Antony once again got lost in his memories, his gaze not focused on anything in the room.

  “This is not how I imagined things to be.”

  “Huh?” Charlotte sharply raised her head, startled.

  “You’re right about the poet part,” he felt his face glow red as he ruffled his hair. “I just can’t help it. I see walks under the moonlight. A picnic somewhere near the river in a brightly lit forest. Long evenings spent together debating arts and literature. Going hiking in the mountains and going stargazing… And in the process, slowly acknowledging that we have feelings for each other.

  “Instead we’re chasing after a criminal in possession of a magical artefact from the Third Era, talking to all sorts of people, visiting old dusty archives and law offices with barely a minute to ourselves. Even right now. If you hadn’t fainted, I’m certain we’d be sitting somewhere in the SIU or Nightmare Poets headquarters, our heads buried in a bunch of old and new reports. Trying to see if there’s anything else that we might have missed.

  “Whatever that confession was… Maybe it was the right thing to do. A simple hug. Not saying anything out loud, just agreeing that the feeling was mutual,” he shrugged his shoulders. “All I can do now is daydream or wish things were a bit different.”

  “That’s how it tends to be with me, I am afraid. It’s not that I like this lifestyle. On the contrary. You’ve probably noticed that I prefer walking to using cabs, unless we’re really in a hurry, and I cannot pass a cafe if there’s a picturesque view in front of it.

  “It just so happens that I enter to get a cup of coffee and a slice of cake, but end up getting entangled in yet another case,” she stretched a bit. “You know, I’d love to go on a picnic. We could even combine that with stargazing. Just need to wait for the right weather.”

  “I’ll be lost for options as to where to take you by that time,” he jested, then frowned slightly. “Does it still hurt? Your head.”

  “A little, but it’s already much better,” Charlotte fell back on the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “Nothing to be done but to wait. It’ll pass soon enough.”

  “Some good news at least. Uhm… What was that premonition about? Provided you can talk about it, of course.”

  “I think I can,” she said slowly. “At least I feel no backlash. This case is much more serious than I imagined it to be.

  “You and I have a week to solve it. If we don’t, this whole city is doomed. What I saw was a plague sweeping over the streets. A vile mist that sapped everyone of their lifespan. Men, women, children falling where they were standing; food getting instantly spoiled; animals and trees turning into dust.

  “All to feed a single spell so against Her nature that… I am not here by accident. I am here because I must be here. As a failsafe. To ensure that this spell, if invoked, is limited to this city alone. Or, ideally, to prevent any of this from happening.”

  “I take it She didn’t tell you who is responsible for it?”

  “I wish. I would’ve already sent you to the Nightmare Poets with that information and a couple warnings,” Charlotte shook her head. “She is as cryptic as any other god or goddess. Perhaps even more so. She only drops hints, or steers Her clerics in the right direction, or… arranges certain series of events to ensure that I travel across the continent.

  “The only hint I gleaned from what She had shown me… I want to hear your thoughts on the state of affairs at the Royal Alchemy Society. What is troubling you is in some way intertwined with this case.”

  “Alright. We can go through my notes and ideas first thing in the morning. I also got a list of people from Mr Dr’lain, and a few more things you and I could look at. For now, I suggest you get some rest,” he tried to get up, but she suddenly grasped his hand, pulling him back.

  “Can you stay?” The question sounded uncertain, as if Charlotte was debating her own sanity, but her grasp on his hand remained firm. “I’d rather not be alone right now. There’s just… Way too much on my mind.”

  Charlotte sat up, and a strand of hair, dyed orange from the light of the fireplace, fell over her face. Antony slowly lifted his hand and tucked it away behind her ear.

  “I should add a log or two to that fire before it goes out.”

  “I’m really not cold.”

  “With your request, I’d say you’re feverish, if not outright delirious,” he remained seated, gazing directly into her eyes, as if trying to read her mind. She was calm, completely relaxed under this scrutiny. Possibly even curious. Then, she moved away a bit, making space for him. Antony raised his head, looking at the ceiling. Not that he expected to find answers there. He sighed, took off his glasses, placing them on the small bedside table, and joined her. “I can stay until you’re able to meditate. But really, in a ‘who’s more stubborn’ competition between the two of us, you’re definitely taking the first prize.”

  “I’m not really forcing you to do anything,” she yawned, very cat-like, and curled up next to him.

  “No. Just refusing to budge until I finally admit defeat,” he mindlessly ran his fingers through her hair. “Also… Thank you for making me talk. And for listening.

  “I… I know this might sound pretentious, but,” he took a deep breath and quietly continued, “I’ve been thinking about what you said back then, at the church. I won’t let it happen.”

  “That’s an impossible promise you’re making.”

  “Nothing is impossible until you’ve tried. All I want to say is, no matter what, I won’t stop searching. Not until I find a way to help you remain yourself.”

  Charlotte raised her head, meeting his gaze again. For a while, they lay still, looking at each other, not saying a word, with the only sound in the room being the quiet crackling of the burning logs and the distant ticking of the clock in the sitting room downstairs.

  Antony moved closer, until their faces were but inches away from each other, mesmerised by the image in front of him.

  She was first to close the distance, kissing him on the lips.