Neutral

by Darci Darson

  “It’s too difficult,” she moaned. “And everybody is staring at me.”

  “They have never seen a Varuh trying to dance,” Ettrian said. “I’m sure they assumed that you must be a perfect dancer.”

  The dance was fun despite her repeated attempts to crush Ettrian’s feet. She let herself be carried by the music and the atmosphere and laughed with her each imperfect move and each twirl causing her to lose balance. Led by Ettrian’s strong arms, she ascended and descended as the heat from the fire radiated to her sweating body. The music coated her like a warm mist with sparkly and icy tones. Her Varuh sensed its magic and enjoyed every vibration as her skin boiled. She felt connected to the sizzling emotions of the elves’ auras as the pulsating dense vibes ran through her veins. Liberating herself from Ettrian’s arms, she looked up at the dark navy sky and spun with her arms outstretched. Her hands swept horizontally with grace. Pure joy shot through her veins as Ettrian’s hand clutched hers and he pulled her towards him back again. Erupting into laughter, she twirled again. She caught Ettrian’s curious glance as a few young elf men sent her their beguiling smiles too. Yet when her glance met Aymar’s, she froze, petrified.

  “I will take you home,” Ettrian suggested as they both tried to catch their breaths after their very flawed dance. His eyes burnt with bright silver and he smiled like he was happy.

  “Thank you,” she said with honest gratitude and left the gathering like the flames from the fire had just seized her skin. She wanted to escape to her bedroom.

  As they walked slowly through the elven kingdom, Alyssa clung to Ettrian’s arm. The night enveloped them with voices of nocturnal animals and its sweet heat.

  “Tsarra is in love with you, Ettrian,” Alyssa said to interrupt the silence that had hung between them.

  “I’m not in love with Tsarra,” Ettrian said. “She needs to find herself somebody else.”

  “What about Alea?”

  “I’m not interested in Alea either. I’m not interested in any elf girl.”

  “It’s a shame because every single girl in the Alyssum Forest wants you as a husband. You are rich and handsome.”

  “Do you want me, Alyssa?” he asked with a hint of humour but his face sharpened with a momentary tension.

  “You are too old,” Alyssa said and laughed but Ettrian gifted her with a strange glance. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”

  Ettrian shook his head and smiled honestly as they stopped near her house.

  “You are young not disrespectful,” he said. Stroking her head with his palm, he added, “It’s very late, go to bed and get a proper nights sleep.”

  “I used an incantation,” Alyssa exploded suddenly, ”on my parents.” She tensed up, waiting for his reprimands but Ettrian chuckled and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “I won’t tell them,” he said in a soft voice. “Go to bed, Alyssa.” He leant towards her and brushed her forehead with his lips. It was an unexpected gesture but Alyssa did not pay attention. Her head was filled with fear that Aymar would do something irrational. Her whole mind pulsated with the image of Aymar’s face showing determination.

  Ettrian left her at the doorstep of her house, squeezing her hand and advising to ask the permission from her parents for the next time, but she doubted that there would be the next time. The situation with Aymar suffocated and incinerated her. It occupied her every thought. She only had one tiny thought that was different. She was happy that everything between Ettrian and her was like before. He had returned to his friendly yet firm and sarcastic attitude towards her. He also seemed to be more gentle with her now.

  Within a few days she had talked to Aymar. He turned out to be very stubborn and unstoppable in his desire to speak with Rav. She agreed, knowing that she had given him a false hope. She wanted to buy herself more time.

  She tried to speak to Yasmeen on the fatal day when Portia attacked her. She was relieved that her mum was against the possibility of Aymar marrying her. Yasmeen would be her ally and saviour. Also hoping that Rav would have the same opinion on the marriage at such a young age, Alyssa felt grateful to have her parents by her side. Her mind returned to the present at Westfad Manor...

  Alyssa organised the evening meal in the dining room downstairs. So far she had not dared to use it but as she had decided to be truly happy in Westfad Manor, she had to make it a real home for her. Eating the meals in the most elegant room of the estate was the most appropriate move now.

  Kitty was scared to even think about sitting there with Alyssa but after two hours of nagging, the young servant embrace the idea and started serving the food. Jenny did not want to leave her kitchen and Alyssa reluctantly had to use an elf incantation on her. Throwing up twice on her way from the kitchen to the dining room, she supported Jenny and helped her to settle into the chair at the large mahogany table. She prayed to be able recollect the words of incantation properly as she had no intention of worsening Jenny’s condition.

  As they ate, the silence was interrupted by the sounds of forks scratching against the plates. Kitty was so disturbed that she remained mute and Jenny seemed to hide in her internal world.

  Alyssa looked around and shivered each time her eyes fixed onto the faces staring from the paintings. They were full of seriousness and ugliness. The fire from the marble fireplace almost ceased to exist and each portion of food seemed to stick in Alyssa’s throat, which was unusual for her as she could eat almost everything. The reason for this was certainly her pregnancy but also the modesty of the dishes that they had managed to prepare. It diverted her attention to her memories...

  In her home, every meal was a celebration and she had never suffered poverty. She had whatever she dreamt of. Her parents tried to meet all her needs and Ettrian was very generous in bringing her beautiful toys and clothes. He filled her bedroom with books from all areas of Iioliv and she asked for more and more. He smiled each time and brought even more books. Elven children sometimes envied her that she led a life like a real princess but for her it was a norm.

  “Ettrian, why do you spoil my daughter so much?” Yasmeen asked once when Alyssa was about seventeen.

  “I spoil you too,” Ettrian said and sent Yasmeen his mysterious smile.

  “You spoil her more. Remember that the older she gets the more demands she will have,” Yasmeen said in her sarcastic tone, smiling back.

  “I am prepared for all her demands,” Ettrian said with a hint of humour.

  “I want a real crown,” Alyssa said, excited with the intention to challenge Ettrian, “with a matching necklace. I want more books about love and adventure.”

  “No way,” Yasmeen warned her. “Go to your maths, you princess. And you, Ettrian, find yourself a wife at last. It’s a shame that such a rich and honest man like you still remains single.”

  “One day,” Etrrian started in a bit of a melancholic tone, “I will marry a beautiful girl and will be happy like Rav and you, Yasmeen.”

  “Hurry, Ettrian,” Yasmeen said. “All the beautiful elf girls are getting annoyed with your lack of interest in them and soon there won’t be a girl available for you.”

  The elf gifted Yasmeen with a neutral smile that could mean anything and said, “I will earn more money then.”

  “I spoke to Alea’s parents one day and they were very eager to arrange the marriage. You are so rich that every elven family bringing up a daughter is interested in you,” Yasmeen said. “This is a strange mentality for me. The elves are so independent on one hand and so traditional on the other hand.”

  “I want true love not arranged marriage,” Ettrian said with passion. “I want the love like Rav’s and yours, Yasmeen. And you know how rarely these arrangements end in marriage. Elves are very unstable when it comes to love,” he added with a hint of humour.

  “You need to find yourself a Varuh wife, Ettrian,” Alyssa said. “You need to stay close to our family because we tend to give birth to very beautiful women
and you have plenty of time to wait for your dreamed eternal love.”

  “And you should focus on your education, Alyssa,” Ettrian said. “If you have no knowledge in your head, no good man will want to marry you.”

  Alyssa growled with fury and rushed to her maths, followed by Yasmeen’s eruption of laughter. She got her tiara made of diamonds and pearls within two months with fifteen books about passionate love and Yasmeen told off Ettrian. Not too much though as she received a beautiful piece of jewellery. The gift made Rav furious for a moment. Alyssa was more happy with the books.

  Torn away from her thoughts by Jenny’s cough, Alyssa sighed and said, “We have to sell something from the house. Jenny is not well and we all need proper food.”

  Kitty crossed herself and squeaked as Jenny coughed once more, spitting the food from her mouth onto her plate.

  Alyssa shook her head and stroked Jenny’s back as she continued, “I’ll write a letter to the lawyer, Kitty. Can you deliver it for me?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “I told you to call me Alyssa.”

  “Yes, miss,” Kitty repeated.

  Alyssa sold Horatia’s jewellery. The lawyer was very suspicious but Alyssa on the other hand was very eager to test her incantations on him.

  Chapter 9

  Alyssa was eight months pregnant; she could asses it as she stared at the mirror, her palm smoothing the fabric over her big belly. Wrapping a chunky hand–knitted shawl around her arms, she decided to visit Horatia in the churchyard.

  The spring evenings were still a bit chilly but with every breath Alyssa inhaled the smell of life waking up and blossoming. This season and the life growing inside her brought the hope and joy back to her heartbroken soul. She moved slowly as her pregnancy made her less fit, but she did not regret it. The baby would be her closest family and there was also devoted Kitty’s presence around her. She would be with two other people that could offer her unconditional love and this mattered most to her now. She thought that she would manage without Philip. As her feet brushed the uneven, basic road and her eyes swallowed the fresh, shy greens of the crude landscape and reborn trees in the dying sunlight, she felt that she was ready to bury Philip for good. In fact, she decided to pay a visit to him after the baby had been born to inform him that she did not want his presence in her life any more.

  She entered the infinite calm of the graveyard and came to an abrupt stop.

  The dim light of the still red horizon deprived of the sun, gently enveloped a figure sitting on one of the stones.

  When their glances met, Alyssa stepped back, her heart missing a beat as an unnerving stab of surprise coursed through her chest. Her breath stuck in her throat for an instant and her heart leapt again to beat hastily in the next moment; this time excitement filled her veins. They stared at each other and the sky began to form an image of pale berry lightness and navy fluffiness tinged with ash. It resembled the beach from the painting that hung in her house in Iioliv. It had been a very expensive gift for Yasmeen from Rav.

  “Hello Imre,” Alyssa muttered and as she took another breath to say something else, a stabbing agony went through her stomach. Her mouth filled with thick blood and her internal organs twisted as if tied in multiply knots with another sudden and drilling sensation surged through her body. It hurt, but she wanted to continue no matter what. It felt like a very painful death.

  Imre turned to face her and grinned in an honest astonishment as she spat out at least a cup of blood. These were the rules, the old unbreakable rules of preserving the timeline. However, Alyssa had no intention of giving up as she desperately needed her family to be with her now even if it only was her famous vampire grandfather. She was too young and too inexperienced and profoundly aware now that her strength was derived from her family, from the support they gave to each other. She did not want to be alone and she wanted her child to be raised among the members of her family. Imre was the foundation of that family.

  She moved towards him and watching the surprise softening his face she fell into his arms.

  Another sharp pain permeated her chest and she pulled away a bit from Imre. Her back bent forward and a jelly like load of blood left her mouth. She moaned deeply in pain. It was as if something wanted to pull out her insides. There was also this alarming sensation spreading in her veins, like a cold warning, that the balance would preserve itself and a stir in molecules in this tiny time point may have implications. Alyssa did not intend to listen, drunk with the happiness of meeting her grandfather. Her determination and stubbornness pulled her to continue, to win, to grab this opportunity with her bare hands.

  “Your blood is disgusting to me, Woman,” Imre muttered as he supported her arms.

  Alyssa chuckled and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. The baby moved inside her and it was as if her pregnant belly made Alyssa stronger. She could literally feel the tiny and warm support from her unborn child, this force pushing her to continue. The girl smiled with a joyful pride. The baby was a fighter and a rule breaker as well, gifted, tough, willing to survive. The bond between Alyssa and her baby thrived. They were unbeatable together, or so it seemed in this moment.

  Alyssa embraced Imre once again and laughed with happiness as he was frozen by her actions. He did not withdraw from her arms, though. He stood stiff with a dark expression like he wanted to murder her.

  “You are not a woman,” he said with suspicion. “You are like a sister or daughter. You are disgusting...”

  “Grandpa, what are you doing here?” Alyssa questioned him as she stepped back with her hands still clutched on his arms. Her whole being was determined to keep him, to be with him. She held him like he was the most precious treasure in her life. Her back bent forward and she coughed another portion of blood as her lungs inhaled air with a wheezing sound.

  “It is not your business, you foolish Maiden,” Imre growled but gave her the strong support of his hands. “You are sick. I will heal you,” he ordered.

  “Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

  “Foolish Maiden, vomit all your blood then,” he hissed back.

  “I don’t know how granny Cherry managed to deal with your crude temper,” Alyssa said with a hint of sarcasm as she straightened up, spitting out saliva mixed with her blood. The torture seemed to end at last.

  Imre stared at her, taken aback by her revelations, but also intrigued. He repeated the name ‘Cherry’ with his lips making no sound.

  “I am visiting my friend, Philip Reese,” Imre explained with his harsh voice. There was also a hint of confusion in his tone, but clearly he was not a person to show his fears and doubts. He looked like he was really going to kill her which made Alyssa almost burst out laughing at first but when the information from Imre reached her brain in full, she sobered rapidly.

  “He is in the town,” Alyssa said, feeling her blocked emotions rise from the bottom of her heart. They drilled her chest and chocked her.

  “You are mad, Woman,” Imre growled. “Philip Reese is dead. He died in the battle of Waterloo and I myself brought his decaying corpse to bury it here with my bare hands.”

  Alyssa felt dizzy and moved backwards as her body swayed. She descended to the ground but Imre caught her in his arms. Resting her cheek on his chest, she contaminated his white, linen shirt with the blood that came out of her stomach once more.

  “This would explain a lot,” she whispered as the vomiting reflex that tormented her stomach ceased to exist. She caressed her pregnant belly in her gratefulness for the help of the tiny being inside.

  “Who is the father?” Imre asked, putting his hands under her arms.

  “Philip Reese,” Alyssa said in an emotionless tone.

  “You are mad,” Imre repeated. “A ghost cannot be a father. You have lost your mind. Philip Reese is a shadow wandering in the churchyard. You are mad and very sick.”

  “And you are rude and I am not scared of you at all,” Alyssa said. “I can tell you that I am very special. I think I’m
pulling him towards the world of the living,” she added more to herself. “Can you see him as well?”

  Imre grinned in his unique and arrogant way as she glanced at him, but then his expression softened.

  “There are things in this world that cannot be explained,” Imre said more to himself. “But in the kingdom of our Lord we shall get our answers. I saw him once, but I have no power to release his trapped soul and bring him back to life as a human.”

  Alyssa glanced at him with confusion permeating her chest.

  “In my mum’s stories you are more... modern and normal,” she said and smiled through the tears streaming down her cheeks. Her teeth chattered and she felt coldness running through her veins, probably due to the massive blood loss. Her Varuh started to heal her.“Whatever. I’m inviting you to my house in Westfad Manor, grandpa, and you can stay for as long as you want. At least I can have you. Let’s go.”

  “Are you a servant there?” Imre asked, not managing to hide his anxiety and confusion this time.

  “No,” Alyssa started proudly. “I am the owner. Come, Imre,” she said with an inviting and warm voice. “I won’t bite you. The house is very spacious. You will like it.”

  Imre looked like he wanted to rip her throat out, then like he wanted to hug her. He moved at a slow pace, following her closely. As they walked towards the house, Alyssa could observe how desperately Imre tried to cope with the information from her and the attachment to her that he had been developing since they had met. It was funny to see this vampire fighting to save his dignity, yet at the same time being so happy and excited with meeting her. Imre did not understand the situation at all but, he wanted to go on. She could see that she pulled him like a light would attract a moth. He looked like he was intoxicated or under a spell.

  Imre was partially like her mum and Alyssa just missed Yasmeen, more than ever. She missed the hugs, the fun, even her yelling. This was strange, this yearning to sit with her mum once more, to talk like two closest friends, to accept all the imperfections they both had.