Black Knight

by Svetlana Ivanova

  "Wait," she spoke, narrowing her gaze on me. Triton stopped for a moment. They didn't say a word, but then the girl just shook her head. "Never mind, let's go."

  As I watched them standing inside the spinning ring, the brilliant pool of light shot up straight to the sky. I shaded my face with my hand. Their silhouettes began to fade away slowly until they were gone. The Spindle itself crumbled into a million pieces afterward. All that remained was a pile of disintegrated metallic sand.

  In the end, I was left all alone with the emptiness as big as the whole sky.

  CHAPTER 45

  I lay unmoving on the floor for hours. At this point, I had lost the will to even think. My eyes opened with tears streaming as though from a river. It seemed like the sun and the moon had fallen from the sky. Everything had gone dark right to every nook and cranny of my heart. The event of what just happened wouldn't stop rewinding itself until the images were now hung permanently in the gallery of my skull.

  As I remained weeping in silence, the feeling of utter desolation overtook my consciousness. I felt myself slipping away like ebbing water into a deep dark gloom.

  It must have been a long time since I passed out. I woke up again with a start and found myself in the tomb-like darkness. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. Until my fingers brushed over the sandy floor, and all the memories came rushing back to me like a flood. It brought along an unfulfilled desire to hold Allecra again, to touch her soft lustrous skin, to feel the warmth of fresh blood coursing through her, to hear her heart beating those blessed beats. But all of these were no longer in the world with me.

  My chest grew tight like it was shrinking and collapsing on itself. I wished my body had withered like everything else in this room.

  I cried again, harder and sadder. It was difficult to breathe without choking with tears.

  But wasn't that what I wanted for Allecra?

  Some part of me was happy that she would be free from all this unwieldy burden and pressure and torment of conscience. Perhaps someone else could give her everything that I couldn't. And I had to go on living. Allecra would be starting a new life. I should begin mine and quench this thirst that wouldn't quit, and a premonition of despair that awaited me. The best antidote now was to shut off that stream of memories, though deep down in my heart of heart, I knew it would be the longest fight.

  Making a painstaking attempt to get up, I rose from the ruin of my soul like a phoenix rising from its ash and slowly left the demolished laboratory. My heart was still in recovery, still struggling to accept the inevitable weight of this loss. But I was determined to take one step after another and leave the narrative of my brokenness behind.

  My feet unconsciously took me up to the library. It was silent, cavernous and empty. The bookshelves looked like white skeletons without a single spine of books. They had taken everything away.

  The floor echoed from the sound of my footsteps. I ran my hand over the shelves and looked around the room in nostalgia. Like dark, soft shadow, sadness once again reigned over my heart with no warning. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the depth of deprivation and loneliness, giving myself up to grief, letting the pain pour over me, choking me like strangling hands around my neck.

  My knees buckled under the invisible weight of despair. I was crying on all four with the force of a person vomiting. I had never cried this hard in my life.

  After a while, I calmed down again and sat back, leaning myself against the shelf in exhaustion. That was when my eyes landed on something glinting under the table. I recognized the object immediately. My heart pumped with surprise as I went over to retrieve it.

  My typewriter was still here in Allecra's deserted library.

  They did not throw it away. I figured it must be Triton who left it behind. He left it for me to keep. One of the two things Xenon didn't know Allecra gave me. The typewriter felt cold and heavy in my feeble hands. Placing it on the table, I kept staring at it like I couldn't believe it was real. It was like everything in this house could vanish in a blink of an eye. Then I pulled my necklace out from the collar of my shirt. The stone's sparkling resplendence seemed to grow oddly dark and dull as if it was too mourning with me. The bittersweet remembrance of the old days resurfaced like a humongous iceberg in the ocean. Now Allecra wasn't going to read to me or tell me a story, or rush to hold me and give me peppering kisses ever again.

  But I willed myself not to give into tears this time. Then a sudden urge to write struck me afresh. I began setting up the typewriter and pulling out some papers I found from the drawer of the nightstand. I started to write. At least, it gave me something to be occupied with during this emotional ordeal.

  When the first word was punched onto the paper, another came flowing from my head, I wrote without stopping, all sort of words that describe my pain and loss. The sound of my fingers tapping on the keyboard was mercilessly loud and furious, yet also increasingly soothing. I wrote about the state of my broken heart. One fragmented sentence after another. Tears flowed down my cheeks without me realizing. It was the longest letters I had ever written. Then the papers ran out. And I stopped. I would have gone on forever if there were still words that could portray all my feelings. But I knew no amount of words that had ever existed in the world could express how I felt.

  I stared at my own writing for a very long time. Then I plucked the paper out and piled them together, making a three-fold.

  Call it coping mechanism or whatever it was, but after pouring out all my thoughts onto the papers, I made a conscious promise to myself that I would not go back to these feelings again. It would take a huge effort of will, but it was a start.

  The sky was already pitch-black, in contrast to the morning sunlight from where I came from. Walking out of the house, I looked around the place for the last time. The silence made everything else seemed to come alive— the chirping of birds, the cries of all sorts of insects, and the distant sound of ocean waves. But what rang in my ears the loudest was an indescribable sound I couldn't explain — the sounds of hollowness that came from deep within me.

  With my typewriter tugged under my arm and the folded letters I wrote, I finally turned to leave. My car was still in the garage with the key dangling from the driver's door. I knew Triton had prepared all this for me, but the black Lambo and the rest of their cars were gone.

  Without another delay, I got inside my own car, started the engine and then drove off. My tear-stained face reflected on the rear-view mirror as I took the last glance at Allecra's beautiful house. I imagined it crumbling into fine powdery dust along with pieces of my heart.

  ~*~

  When I reached home, I went up to my room. Time itself slogged along in rhythm with my faltering steps. I closed all the curtains and locked the door, but even so, there was no escape from that haunting sound inside my chest.

  I got out the music box which Jordan had given me on my birthday. It was made of polished wood with very nice inlaid work and hand painted images on the exterior. It was even lockable with its key.

  I opened the lid, letting the melodious music float harmoniously in the quiet room. I put my letters into the box. Inside also had a small compartment, which I used to store the Erytus stone, too. I didn't know what twisted fate that had made Jordan give me this kind of gift, and how ironically fitting that was to have it now, but like Pandora's Box full of diseases and evils that plagued mortals, this was the box of my grief and sorrow.

  I closed the lid and locked it with the key, storing all my wounded feelings away. Afterward, I curled up on my bed and tried to numb every part of my body, as if by doing so, I could disappear from the world, too. The hollowness would come again soon enough when I had no choice but to welcome it, and when it arrived I would take a good long time to fill the void, like dropping pebbles down a deep dark pit — one pebble at a time. Not now, though, not yet.

  I stayed up all night until there was light in the sky. I couldn't sleep and just spent the next morning watching the
garden and the green hill with trees stroking the belly of the sun as it rose. I felt completely drained, but I couldn't fall asleep regardless. I went on staring at the cherry trees that stopped blooming since last spring.

  I wondered how Allecra was, what she was doing. Had she arrived at her planet yet? What would they do to her? I tried to picture what would happen.

  The return of the Endling with her unfruitful results from Earth.

  The Elders sat around like a trial in disappointment.

  Soon, they would make her a newly arranged journey to another place more promising. Of course, Allecra would follow their order. Allecra was not the same anymore. She would find a new potential because she couldn't remember me.

  She won't be coming back. My heart's clenched at the thought as if every bone in my body was suddenly creaking and screaming. My eternal longing for her presence felt like hungry parasites sucking with their ferocious appetites, selfish and starving for love and passion. It caused an unbearable swell of pain as if my heart and body were being ripped to shreds.

  The afternoon deepened, twilight approached, and the bluish shadows enveloped the garden. The sky was covered from one end to the other with clouds, blocking the moon.

  The second night, I was able to drift to sleep. But once I did, I dreamed.

  I saw Allecra walking through a flower-filled meadow somewhere. The mountains were crystal blue. She smiled at me brightly. I was overjoyed to see her again. Tears sprang from my eyes in relief. But when I rushed over to her, our bodies fell through each other like mist. My hands tried to grasp for her again, yet she just disappeared. I turned myself around in panic, calling out to her over and over until I woke up screaming her name.

  That was the most sadistic and cruelest dream in the world. I felt like dying.

  Other nights it was just impossible to sleep. The thoughts of Allecra would come back. There was no way I could stop them from entering my muddled mind. As soon as one more of them found the slightest opening, the rest would force their way in, cramming inside my head — an unstoppable torrent of memories: Allecra gracefully stepping out of her car to rescue me from the top of the hill. Allecra peering at me with those incredibly clear eyes of hers as we sat under the pepper tree. Allecra standing with her beautiful smile on my birthday. Allecra sitting on the school windowsill with her blonde hair swaying against the wind.

  There were also those helpless moments of our joining bodies for the first time, our first climax, our confessions, hopes, and promises.

  I felt all this with such clarity that I could just reach out and touch her, as if she was right there in my bed, except her body and soul was no longer in the same reality.

  It was the same fashion the following week. I hadn't tasted anything but water and whatever I found in the fridge to nibble on, bread, crackers or nothing. I discovered in the mirror that I was becoming emaciated. I could hardly recognize myself. My hair was a matted mess. There were dark circles under my eyes.

  I was looking out of the window when a flock of wild ducks flew from a pond in the neighborhood park. The ducks reminded me of the duck family Allecra had told me back in Austria.

  When the world gives them ice to slip on, they would just do their best not to fall, even if they fall, they would still try to get up and continue their happy little duck lives.

  From that moment on, I decided to try and see whether or not I could regain the courage to return to the real world, leaving the illusory castle that I had built on the fragile dream. I would have to do something to reclaim my footing.

  As my survival instinct kicked in, I began to get up and went around the house. Everything still felt strange to me. I felt like I was a ghost wandering about from room to room. Then I started doing the cleaning I hadn't paid much attention during my absence. The maid had come once a week to tidy things up, but I still took it upon myself to do it. I just wanted something to distract myself, to block all thoughts and memories that threaten to intrude my mind. I still felt like I was walking in the bottom of the sea, but I would have to adapt myself to this new situation.

  Like Pandora's Box, there was one thing left. When granted, a person would use it as fuel, as a guiding star to life. That thing was hope. Right, I still had hope, not for anyone else, but for myself.

  ~*~

  In the morning I did laundry and reorganized my own room. Then I went grocery shopping for the first time in weeks and made myself a decent meal for a change. It felt like a lifetime ago.

  Once my days fell into a pattern, I tried my best to keep them that way. I didn't know why, but it seemed important to me. One hour followed the next like rhythm of the songs miners sang. Nighttime was the most dreaded time. All sort of pain and grief tried to get out of the box. They would slam at me like the waves of ceaseless tides, sweeping me along to a nostalgic place — a place of the past where I still lived happily with Allecra. I would try to fight back and cling to hope and hold on until the morning came again.

  One day, three days, another week passed by. Surprisingly I didn't find it painful to be shut away, living a monotonous, solitary existence. If anything it gave me an abundance of alone time to heal.

  Now I was able to get up every day and had a simple breakfast of bread and jam with a cup of jasmine tea. Then I would spend an hour or so, doing things like ironing, or vacuuming and even gardening. When I ran out of stuff to do, I brought all my textbooks to the big living room and did an exuberant self-study until I felt like passing out. But for once, I could indulge myself in something logical, definitive, and could be proven in life.

  Lunch was usually green salad and fruit. The afternoon was spent sitting on the sofa and reading the books I owned. Sometimes, I reread the same sentence over and over, trying to imagine the scenes depicted in the story, but it was as if my brain had trouble catching the meaning.

  It took me a long time until I would be able to get out on the balcony. I would sit on a wooden chair, keeping my stare at the night sky. The stars reminded me of Allecra the same way people looked at Orion and thought about the Greek legend.

  But at this point, I no longer forbade myself not to think of her. She had become a part of everything that I was. She was my breaths, my heartbeats, my senses and agony and happiness. It was pointless to try and forget her. I let my mind conjured up the familiar feeling of being held in her arms again. Looking at the stars hovering over the darkened world, I closed my eyes and immersed myself in that phantom warmth of her love. No matter how far we were away from each other, I knew I was still going to love her for the rest of my life.

  Autumn was quietly lurking as summer faded away day after day. It suddenly hit me that ever since I had been back, I hadn't had my period yet. I tried to convince myself that maybe it was due to the body's hormonal reaction to my emotional state. But it was late, very late. Time was a little tricky in my mind. I was too caught up with distractions that I forgot all about it. How long had it been? Two weeks? A month?

  Now, however, for the first time in my life, I saw something different in myself. I was able to sit in front of the mirror longer than before and examine my face more thoroughly. I wasn't being narcissistic, but for some reason, the unrecognizable girl was gone. I inspected my face from a number of angles like it weren't mine. My skin was glowing and became more lustrous. I looked a lot better than ever before, and which was kind of strange. Or at least it felt like I was taking on a late transformation of a mature woman. Probably.

  I closed my eyes and stopped thinking about it.

  One windy day, as I lay wrapping in the blanket, the house phone rang. It took about five rings for me to actually register the sound. I got up and slowly went down to the living room.

  It was from my aunt. During my time traveling, Allecra had piggybacked our home line. It redirected her calls to my phone so I could talk with Aunt Vikki anywhere without her being suspicious. She would call me once or twice a week. I only missed it a couple times but immediately called her back after I got home
. I did a good job at concealing my secret after all.

  I greeted her as I picked up the receiver. We talked for a moment before she told me the family would return from Florida soon. Robert needed to get back to his work. I said it was great to have them back and reported what I had been doing as I normally did when she asked. I had rehearsed how I would respond if she asked about Allecra, but fortunately, she didn't. After we hung up, I went to my room and sat down on the edge of my bed. Outside the tree leaves began to change color.

  Summer was coming to an end.

  ~*~

  I woke up with bleared eyes. The ceiling spun above me in haziness. There was an awful bitter taste in the back of my throat, burning up my tongue like surging acid. I gagged and struggled to get up. Another bout of nausea hit. It was sickening and exigent. I had to stumble my way blindly to the bathroom. A fraction of my foggy mind wondered what I had eaten the night before. But food poisoning was out of the question. It had been like this for several days now. My legs felt wobbly, but I managed to get into the bathroom. And once the light was on, I felt my stomach recoil and erupt uncontrollably. My shaky hands grabbed the edge of the sink, and I doubled over and wretched.

  The disgusting taste of stomach acid and some foul unidentified fluid made me tear up. I couldn't hear anything but the ringing sound in my ears as my head twirled and throbbed.

  What is happening?

  I rinsed my mouth and stared at myself in the mirror again. My face was paler under the light. I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. Something was wrong with me. My body had become strangely different. I ran my hands over to my breasts. Aside from the tender and heavy-feeling, they had grown sore to the point that just putting on my bra was like mild torture, and those random cramps, headache and back pain, not to mention my missed period. I had suspected what these signs could be. But this made me shudder at the frightful possibility.