by Darci Darson
Alyssa moved towards the door, taking a few deep breaths and put her hand over the breastbone to relieve her heart pounding. Her shaky hand enveloped by a full length white glove opened the door and she stepped out into the hallway. She walked slowly with stubborn doubts about turning back and hiding in her room, buzzing thoughts that crossed her mind like a hive of bees. As she arrived downstairs, she was surrounded by a crowd of men wearing high-waisted jackets with elegant cravats and skin-tight black trousers. They gifted her with interested and somehow impure glances. Alyssa felt hatred towards them and whispered an incantation with her lips making no sound. Two men started to scratch their heads.
The women present wore dresses similar to hers, although some of them had long sleeves. They sent her envious glances which made her feel proud of her appearance for just an instant.
The flickering candles made the atmosphere shimmer with a magical glow but the emotions and voices were suspicious and threatening, despite the pleasant sound of the music that flowed like a tangible stream of silvery joy and sadness. Too many people, too much intolerance and too much staring. Alyssa felt her throat tighten and she wanted to throw up.
Unexpectedly, she sensed somebody’s closeness right behind her. A cold wave of air swept around her neck and arms and she turned around. It was Philip. He smiled at her, primping his cravat. She felt such a big jolt of happiness that she forgot to reprimand him for his abrupt departure two weeks earlier.
“Somebody must have opened the window,” Alyssa whispered to him.
He chuckled and gazed at her for a moment. He seemed to be so honestly happy to see her too.
“You do not like balls,” he said with a hint of humour in his voice.”Me, neither, actually.”
She shook her head as some of the guests nearby laughed in the way that irritated her ears. She shot them a venomous look and they glanced back at her with pity.
“We can hide upstairs,” Philip said and winked at her.
Alyssa nodded and when he turned back and she looked around once more, from the corner of her eye, she spotted Horatia chatting with another woman. Feeling relieved that she would not abandon Horatia without any company, she followed him, grateful that he would not expect her to stay here. As she darted upstairs, she passed Kitty showing her clear disapproval and something else tinged with nervousness or confusion. However, Alyssa did not care, running with this shining warmth filling her chest, craving for those blue eyes and that gentle touch of his hands.
Alyssa reached the top of the stairs and caught a glimpse of Philip’s back as he disappeared into one of the bedrooms. She ran after him and entered the dark room with just two candles burning, two weak flickers in the dark, suddenly realising that she could not see him anywhere. She put her folded arms on her chest, deciding to go back to her own room and find a warm shawl as the air was freezing cold. She was about to turn back and walk away when she felt a hand placed on her shoulder and then Philip stood in front of her. She shuddered and her heart leapt. It was as if it missed two beats and as her constricted lungs expanded at last, a deep sigh left her mouth.
“You scared me,” she said, furious. She took another deep breath and smiled at him.
He chuckled and held her hand, looking straight into her eyes, his joyful kindness melting her unhappiness.
Alyssa thought that despite the dim light, his eye burned with unusual and intensely blue fire, enslaving her mind and heart. The warmth and kindness of his glance had also made her strangely nervous and a wave of heat surged through her body. It was as if a flame streamed through her veins fusing with this new for her anxiety. Philip had discovered and awakened a human part of her and she liked the fragility and uncertainty of this addition to her being. Yasmeen had told her once about what it was like to fall in love and Alyssa thought that maybe this was happening to her now. It had such a different quality for her that she was purely excited.
At the same time, a flood of other emotions poured inside her head, with an uneasy heaviness pressing upon her chest. She somehow unblocked her guilt and remorse that had been perfectly concealed by her eagerness to help the inhabitants of Westfad Manor. Tears started welling up in her eyes.
“I killed a man,” she whispered, surprised with her unexpected honesty. She somehow knew that she could trust him. There was no explanation why or how; it just was. She wanted him to know about that as she had this blurry impression that Philip might be the only person trying not to judge her.
“I fought in the war and I killed too,” Philip said and wiped the tears flowing down her cheeks with both his thumbs. His expression darkened, eyes narrowing.
“I thought that I was a tough girl,” Alyssa said. “But then I was a very scared girl armed with skills that I could not use properly. I am everything and nothing. I’m like a mixture of something... I don’t know who I am. I left his corpse lying in the fields,” she added.
“You ain’t a bad person,” Philip said with a deep certainty in his voice. “You are a lost angel. You are my light in the darkness. This poor man has found his peace, believe me.”
”I’m too young to be on my own,” Alyssa cried out. “Maybe I should have listened to my mum. I don’t know... I feel too young for everything that I encountered so far...”
“I’m too young to fight in the war.”
Alyssa tilted her head and as she gazed at him this way, her hand travelled to be placed on his cheek whilst her fingers ran up to his temple. She wanted to comfort him. His struggles seemed more serious to her.
“Some wounds never heal, Alyssa,” Philip continued. “I can hear the screams and watch them die, but you brought the light to me. You make my torment easier.”
“You make me a good person, Philip,” she said moved by his words and the pain sharpening his face. He looked like his soul had been touched by the appalling, mad images of the war and his terrible experience there.
For a moment, Alyssa watched him drifting away into the horror of his tragic encounters, his remorse and suffering visible for her, digesting and hurting him, but in the next moment, an honest smile came back to his face.
“Shall we dance?” Philip asked and his forehead rested on hers as his hands wrapped around her waist.
Alyssa shook her head but he moved her so that they twirled together whilst the layers of her petticoat swished and waved, the air ruffling around them. She laughed with joy as they spun in the bedroom when suddenly, Philip stopped and wrapped her in a tight hug with his lips pressed against hers. It was frightening, amazing, and delicious. Her heart raced in nervous excitement.
Alyssa fell into his arms and surrendered her lips to his, losing control over her longing for him. There was something magical in the way he tasted to her as if she immersed herself into the bottomless abyss of light and dark, sadness and happiness. There was an unexpected lightness and this translucent sensation of touching the delicacy of airiness. She was not sure whether this was her or him, with the heat blooming and circling inside her, she wanted to descend with him. Nothing mattered more than being in his arms, in this moment, and forever. She was full of desire as her impatient fingers untied his cravat and unbuttoned the shirt underneath, her hands tasting the feel of his skin as her gaze shifted to his. She stirred and stopped as she saw this flicker of surprise and happiness in the blaze of his eyes, but then Philip turned her so that her back pressed against his chest and he swept away the hair from the side of her neck. She let out a deep sigh when she felt the thirst of his lips on her skin. Philip was good and kind, but his kisses were not shy at all. Her heat warmed them both and they were like an island of burning passion in the silent cold of the bedroom. They were desperate in this desire of each other as Philip’s arms pulled her towards him, closing in the captivity of his yearning agony for her. It was as if he wanted to keep her united with him and never let her go.
She took off her dress and guided his trembling hand to taste her breasts, then led him towards the bed. He was taken by surprise as she for
ced him so lie down on his back so she could get on top of him.
The bedroom was very cold and the chill swallowed and bit, slithering between their naked bodies as they clenched together. Her heat was not enough. Alyssa hitched up the duvet and they hid from the whole world in the stuffy space underneath. Yet it was still cold as she kissed him and pleased him, giving him the whole of her. The cold was everywhere.
She buried something deep inside the abyss of her unique soul and let Philip be everything to her.
***
She woke up and still felt his hand brushing her arm and his lips kissing her cheek but when she turned on her side there was nobody beside her. At first, she did not know whether it was a dream or not. As she looked around, lifting her head, she noticed that she was in her temporary bedroom in Westfad Manor. She thought that the part of her that was a Varuh could play strange tricks on her, or maybe her passion for Philip had blinded her and made her numb to the external world.
The door opened and Kitty walked in, carrying a tray of food for her.
“Miss, where were you for the whole night?” Kitty asked with her timid and shaky voice.
“I was... here,” Alyssa said. “I was with Philip, for the whole night.”
Kitty touched Alyssa’s forehead and wrinkled hers.
“Miss, you have a fever,” Kitty said with concern, her hand inspecting Alyssa’s cheeks. “You are so hot. You should stay in bed for the whole day.”
“How is Horatia? Is she angry with me?”
“The old lady is seeing an important man, a lawyer,” Kitty said.
Alyssa swung her legs over the edge of the bed and put her bare feet on the cold floor despite the timid protests expressed by Kitty.
“Why is this house always so cold?” she asked, irritated. She reached out for the shawl that hung on the backrest of the armchair. Her eyes fixed for a moment on her ball dress thrown over the backrest. It woke up a memory of the Alyssum Forest. She was eighteen. She remembered Ettrian coming back from his lonely voyage. He had bought her a beautiful, white dress. In the flow of images that surged through her head now, Alyssa could see herself putting on the dress in her bedroom. She was then flying to the garden where her parents were discussing something with Ettrian. She twirled in front of the elf, clutching the pieces of the long skirt in her fingers and waved like a dancer, then dropped a curtsy.
“I look like a princess,” she said to him with excitement, smoothing the hem with many layers of petticoat underneath and spun once again. She stopped and caught her breath as Ettrian watched her with joy. The dress exposed her shoulders and gave her a very feminine and delicate appearance like she was a white rose in a full bloom. She felt like a woman not a girl.
“The dress was made for a real princess but she got pregnant and I was able buy it for you, Alyssa,” Ettrian said.
Alyssa approached him, falling into his arms as she placed a soft and light kiss on his lips. He was so surprised that he stood, immobilised with his face sharpened and eyes darkening with bright silver.
“Alyssa!” Yasmeen yelled.
Alyssa pulled away from Ettrian and caught her parent’s confounded glances.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she muttered. “The elves...”
“You are not an elf,” Yasmeen yelled. “You are a Varuh. Rav, say something...”
Alyssa watched her mother raising her hands in a dramatic gesture of frustration and Rav had an embarrassed smile on his face.
“I’m sorry Ettrian,” he said. “My daughter is very excited with your present. She loves presents...”
“I’m sorry,” Alyssa said through the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I will be a proper Varuh from now on,” she added with sarcasm, balling up her fists.
“Your parents know what is best for you, Alyssa,” Ettrian said. “Respect them.”
“Thank you, Ettrian,” Rav said. “It is difficult for her to live like a Varuh among the elves. The elf men... don’t want to stay away from her. Can you keep an eye on her as well?”
The elf nodded with his neutral and mysterious smile.
“We will be very grateful,” Yasmeen added, shooting a sharp look towards Ettrian. “She should be very safe under your protection.”
Alyssa had the impression that her mother was sarcastic not grateful and Ettrian’s eyes filled with strange sadness. He excused them and left to visit his other friend, Saleh. The following day, he set off for another voyage. When he had returned after two months, everything changed as he was cold and distant to her, as if still offended by her inappropriate behaviour. She tried to be friendly as always for him but something had changed between them and she had no idea what.
As she came back from her reverie to the present, she shivered, smoothing the fabric of her long, linen underwear and grabbed a piece of bread, saying “I will start the fire in the fireplace, in all of them.” She thought whether Philip would abandon her as well whilst she moved towards the door with the intention of visiting Horatia at once. “I’m not hungry,” she said, turning towards Kitty at the doorway. “You eat my breakfast. You are so tiny and malnourished.”
Kitty dropped a curtsy and then flew towards Alyssa, sinking into her embrace. Alyssa stroked her head and back in a caring gesture. They remained clenched in their friendship and support for each other.
“You little mouse,” Alyssa said softly. “We have a lot of work to do today.”
Kitty separated from her and curtsied again. Alyssa left her and ran to visit Horatia. As she entered the old lady’s bedroom, an elegant man with sunken cheeks and a wrinkled face passed her as he walked out into the hallway. In his black outfit, he looked like the messenger of death. Horatia sat on her bed, supported from behind by three flowery pillows; she was holding a folded piece of paper.
“You did not like the ball,” Horatia said in a weak and hoarse voice and chuckled. “But indeed you looked like an angel, Alyssa.” A sudden attack of coughing interrupted Horatia’s monologue and a stream of blood flowed from the corner of her mouth. “The house belongs to you, Alyssa. My son shall get a pension. It is enough for his life in the town.” Horatia leaned forward and coughed again as the paper floated to the floor. This time a large amount of blood poured out of her mouth and contaminated the duvet. “I can... feel how good and honest you are...”
Alyssa strode over to her and placed her hands on the woman’s back. She could sense the massive bleeding in the lungs. As her mind sharpened, everything inside her turned cold.
Horatia took a wheezing breath and as she faltered, a jelly, red load of blood left her mouth. Then she was dead. It was so quick and unexpected. It was also unavoidable.
Alyssa put her hands on Horatia’s shoulders and moved back the limp, soft body that was still surprisingly warm. The feeling of her fingers digging into the fatty flesh was disgusting. Horatia remained in a half sitting position with her head tilted and her eyes wide opened. It was grotesque and also disgusting. Alyssa felt Kitty’s tiny hand clutching hers. She tried to comprehend what had just happened.
“We shall wash her, miss,” Kitty whispered with her stirring voice and turned back to leave the room.
Alyssa stared at Horatia until the servant came back with a bowl of water and some white cloths. She did not feel anything apart from her consternation. She had not felt such consternation as she had watched Felicia’s dead body covered with a translucent black fabric. Then she had felt sadness.
Chapter 7
The body cooled slowly as Alyssa and Kitty removed it from the bed and placed on a fresh bed sheet. As they exposed and cleaned the limp arms, Alyssa thought that death was so ugly and ridiculous. She could not force herself to mourn over Horatia and felt guilty because of her stubborn thoughts. Why had the old lady decided to give Westfad Manor to her? It was not fair for Philip.
Kitty wrapped a scarf under Horatia’s chin and tied it to the top of her head so that the mouth would remain shut when the muscles stiffened in rigor mortis.
Kitty chose an elegant dress for the old lady to look nice in the coffin and once they had changed the duvet, they placed the body back on the bed. Alyssa paid attention to Kitty’s commands as she had never done this before, but the young servant showed her a deep understanding.
Kitty placed a large candle near Horatia’s head to keep the room illuminated until the day of the funeral and made sure that the bedroom was fully draped in a black cloth. The servant also dealt with the ‘death traders’ and the priest.
The coffin was covered with a black, silky velvet and as Alyssa stood in the churchyard the images of Horatia in it, came back to her like a nagging fly, haunting her with the old lady’s face marked by purple stains of decomposition. For the first time, since she had arrived in this location, Alyssa wanted to return to her home in the Alyssum Forest but despite her efforts she could not. Whatever she had left in Iioliv seemed to be better than her current situation. She did not know how to rule the estate and almost hated Philip for his absence.
She stood in the fountains of freezing rain, released by the angry sky, numb for the priest’s reciting prayers as the wind swept over her body and invaded her every cell. Her feet sank in the sticky mud and even changing her position was a strained torture. She recalled in her mind now that Kitty had ordered her to hide the will signed by Horatia in the place known only to Alyssa. Young Kitty was her only ally now and so she was the same for her.
The funeral was very modest because of the tough times with only Alyssa, Kitty and Jenny in attendance. Philip had not shown up, despite the two letters sent to him by the ’death traders’ in the name of Alyssa. They had asked silly questions but Alyssa had forced them to obey her, using her incantations. She felt like she was separated from the world with a glass wall.