

Echoes to the End

Bobby Tam

Copyright © 2015 Bobby Tam

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1514330563

ISBN 13: 9781514330562

For my father
Prologue

Separate piano notes echoed. Like the notes, every object in the room had an aura of detachment. The large glass windows hid behind the dry curtains, the old dusty chairs, the two nurses wearing thick masks standing at one side of the room and the thin back of a lonesome creature playing the piano. The notes were all detached from each other, yet together they formed a slow and melancholic melody.

I already knew the story of that lonesome creature despite his refusal to turn his face when I was approaching him. Robert Plath, 16 years old. His parents were killed in a traffic accident when he was 9 years old, leaving him a large inheritance of 20 million pounds and this old mansion. Yet, fate must be jealous of his possession or sympathetic to his solitude; he was diagnosed with leukemia five months ago and his days were running short.

"Robert, how are you? I am your psychiatrist, David Waters." My friendliness was like a small fire trying to melt down a huge iceberg. I repeated a few times before he finally stopped playing and turned to me. Discontent and anger were all that I could see, not about me, but about life, about everything.

"If you are one of those who tell me to stay positive, the front door is just downstairs to the left. If you are one of those who say that you can understand me, the back door is downstairs to the right," he spoke in a tone that all would regard as cold.

I picked a chair and waited beside him patiently. He continued to play, trying not to pay attention to me. Finally, annoyed by my presence, he spoke impatiently, "What do you want?"

"I just want to tell you a story. This story has been here for so long in search of a listener. And, I am sure, very sure that you are the perfect person to listen to it."

Interestingly, his eyes lightened up a bit. After all, human beings, especially the young ones, are imaginative beings, even in the most desperate times. "What is it about?" he slowly changed his tone.

"Everything in life, and their ultimate mutual friend, the end."

So here begins this tale.
Part One

Throughout her long life, she would always remember the first sixteen years. At that time, she could still innocently use her birth name as it still had its uses. Her father Rudolf and her mother Lisa would call her Marie, and so would dozens of other people in her village.

She remembered the cock that woke the family up every morning; they would never butcher it no matter how hungry they were. She recalled the feast after harvest every autumn, during which the whole village would sit closely together. The wooden table would be crowded with roasted pork, roasted duck and her favourite pies made by her aunt; men would be drunk by beer that tasted too bitter for her; others would dance naked from worries by the bonfire. In winter, all families would hide inside their little cottages all day long and stay close to the fireplace; her father would go out and boast that he could hunt a few hares to fill their empty stomachs but every time he would come back with nothing. In summer, while the men and women were laboring in the fields, she would often play with her younger cousin Julian, who was the loveliest person she ever knew throughout her life. They would run to the forest, imagining that they were children in the fairytales having a magical adventure.

Yet she would also always remember that summer day when she heard the cry from her father and scream from her mother. Just like the nostalgic memories of the harvest feast and the time with her lovely cousin, the traumatic memories would always linger in a person's mind, especially for a lonely person like her. The warmth of nostalgia and the piercing sharp coldness of the trauma would remain in her head throughout the years.

It was just like any other late afternoon when the villagers were going to finish their work and go back to the cottages. Marie, who helped working in the fields in the morning, spent the whole afternoon lying down at the small hill at the outskirts of the village and playing her wooden recorder. Peaceful was the perfect word to describe everything in the village until there were loud noises of horses and people tramping the ground. Those noises were a foreshadow of an imminent catastrophe, sweeping the village to a barren ground. Soon, tall flags and long pikes could be seen clearly on the horizon. The men working in the fields shouted to alert each other. Yet, all of them hardly knew what they should do; they could not decide whether they should stay there, run back to their cottages or flee the village.

Minutes later, the men could clearly see a crowd of about a hundred soldiers marching towards the village. The villagers' greatest fear had come. Since five years ago, they had heard news about a huge war between the Emperor and various states throughout Germania; the war was so horrendous that even armies from faraway lands - Sweden, France, Spain, Transylvania and England - were all fighting brutal battles in Germania. People from nearby towns spread this piece of news to this remote village. Hundreds of towns and thousands of villages were pillaged; fields were burnt and food was robbed; the soldiers pardoned nobody and slaughtered women and children. But when the villagers asked why this atrocious war was fought, none of the news bearer could give a clear answer. Some of them vaguely said that it was a war about the Church and God; some of them speculated that it was a power struggle between the regional states and the Emperor; others guessed that it was just about the people who held power wanting to test their power.

Now, the war was no longer a distant nightmare as the villagers started to see the faces of the invading army. Bernhard, a fifty-year-old man, was one of the few literate in the village. He gazed at the legions of ravenous men; they seemed both exhausted and angry, probably had just been defeated in a battle. "Who were they? The Imperial army, the Swedes, the French or simply raiding mercenaries?" he pondered. But he soon noticed that it did not matter at all as all of them were the same when the soldiers started to walk directly into the fields, stamping on the crops. Bernhard picked up his courage and took his responsibility as an elder of the village and walked towards the aggressors. He was afraid of the sharp long pikes, the fancy feather hats of the mercenaries, the shining helmets of the infantry and the handguns attached to their belts. Yet, with a glimpse of hope, he spoke with a trembling voice , "Please, in the name of God, spare our humble village. We can give you some food and water. But please leave us in peace."

A mercenary smirked at Bernhard and there was an unbearable silence of a few seconds that lasted longer than Bernhard's lifetime of fifty years. A loud noise of powder explosion was heard across the village for the first time since it was built and birds around the fields flapped their wings nervously trying to escape from the crime scene. Bernhard's eyes were wide open and his dry lips were shaking with disbelief; red fluid as cold as people's hearts was flowing from his abdomen. As the mercenary was putting back his smoking handgun, another mounted mercenary shouted something out loud in a rough and unknown tongue. Then, the brutality began.

Marie, as she was still called, was aware of the chaos in the village by noticing the disturbing noises and towering smoke even when she was at the small hill at the outskirts. She scurried down to the back of the village with young Julian and tried to reach her cottage as quickly as possible. "Marie! They're raiding the village. They are killing us and will spare no one!" her mother yelled at her as she was retreating from the front of the village. Marie was still standing there, perplexed. Her father rushed out from the cottage holding a long spear and shouted at Marie, "Run! Take Julian and run. Find the nearest village and tell them what has happened!" Nine-year-old Julian wanted to cry but withheld his tears with innocent vigor.

"But, I don't..." Marie muttered. "Run!" her father shouted once again. So she ran and ran. She held Julian's hand tightly and sprinted back to the small hill. She passed through the hill and ran towards the forest just as she used to, but this time not with the usual excitement, but with fear and guilt.

Fear and guilt prevented her legs from stopping and also made her lose her balance a few times as she was tripped down by the wicked roots of the old trees. For half an hour, she ran as if she was a hare being chased by bloodthirsty hounds. Finally, young Julian pulled back herself and her consciousness. "Where are we going?" he asked , his eyes showing deep concern. Marie, now dressed in cold sweat and had an unbearable fever in her head, realized that she was already in the middle of the forest, their usual playground.

"Where are we going?" Julian asked again. The obscure and jarring images of trees trunks gradually turned back into stable reality as Marie stood firmly on the ground. She paused for a long time. "I don't know...let's go back," she said indecisively. Julian did not object and started turning back to the direction of the village as he remembered the trees and grass well from his everyday playing in the forest.

After nearly an hour of anxious running, Marie finally got back to the small hill with young Julian. The sun was setting near the horizon of the western woods. The tall, scarlet flames in the village reached the orange sky. Marie and Julian lay down on the top of the hill carefully to prevent themselves from being seen and gazed at the village with their youthful eyes. A few cottages were burnt. There were bodies; some were lying on the fields; most of them were in front of the cottages. Marie could not see their faces well and she did not wish to. All the livestock in the barn were taken out by the soldiers and were gathered in the field as trophies.

But it was the old tall tree at the village that traumatized her most. The tree was said to be two hundred years old. A group of mercenaries holding long pikes were gathering around the tree. On the tree branches a few people were hanging; thick ropes were tied to their fragile necks; their cold bare feet were ten feet from the ground. A wooden ladder stood beside the trunk, where a mercenary soldier was pulling a struggling man up from the ladder and preparing to tie his neck with the merciless ropes. There were still a line of about ten men tightly guarded by the mercenaries, preparing to face their death. There was an old man dressed in white holding a big wooden cross; Marie supposed he was a clergyman held captive by the soldiers. He held his cross high and gestured with his hand to give the dying men on the trees the final blessing. "The mercenaries must have forced him to do so as it is never a glorious job," thought Marie. She could not watch anymore. Even though she could not really tell who the victims were from that distance, she knew all of them and she lived with all of them.

Paralyzed by pure fear, every part of her body, apart from her delirious brain, was ice cold. She buried her head in the dry cold grasses, hoping to forget about everything and waiting for a usual morning that would never come. It was Julian, perhaps supported by his innocence, who had the strength to pull Marie up to face their struggle.

They dared not to go back to the village again as what awaited them in the village was mental torture that would push them to the boundary of insanity. From now on, they had to survive. Despite losing everything in just one evening, they would not choose the door of death to meet their loved ones. For human beings, just like all other creatures, would always want to survive despite thinking of pain and death every moment.

They headed towards the forest. The sun had sunk completely below the horizon. Their usual playground was now the battleground for survival between all living forces. Marie lit up a precious little fire and descended slowly into the maze. Ravens' wicked squeaking marked the beginning of this dark symphony. Yellow and red eyes of all voracious beasts were gradually emerging from the shadow, glaring at Marie's little torch. Nevertheless, the two of them did not develop a single thought of go backing to the human world in search of other people for help. To them, the village was like their entire world and the doomsday had already come. Witnessing such cruelty and destruction, they had no intention to reconnect themselves with the unpredictable creatures called men.

Julian followed his instinct and found the stream where they normally got water during the day while playing. With great efforts, Marie had finally created a fragile fire. It was beyond dangerous for both of them to fall asleep at the same time. Marie let Julian, who had already been resting beside a tree trunk wearily, sleep first. Contrary to her expectation, the traumatic experience in the past few hours did not prevent her from feeling drowsy.

The moon was bathing in the dark sky, showing off her immaculate body and giving Marie an apparently charming yet actually devious smile. Yet, inside the heart of the moon, only the pain of loneliness could be found. She was forced to gaze at the dark sky and the dead earth eternally. She could not close her eyes for the next thousands or even millions of years. For Marie, even though she had experienced the most terrifying things in a single day, she still could close her eyes and enjoy the temporary loss of consciousness. Or in an extreme case, she could be bitten and devoured by a ravenous forest wolf during her temporary loss of consciousness and descend into an eternal loss of consciousness. To many people living under the moon, including Marie, this extreme case might often be a blessing rather than a tragedy.

This extreme case was not unimaginable for Marie as a pair of red eyes was searching for vulnerable targets when Marie was finally defeated by drowsiness. The predator was approaching slowly and quietly. Without making a single sound with the fallen leaves, it had already arrived at the attacking position. Just seconds before the wolf was going to use its sharp teeth to tear apart Julian's thin neck, a sharp sense of threat pierced through Julian's sleep as if a knife was going through his mind in a flash. Julian woke up with pure terror; his instinct saved him again as he dodged away from the wolf's attack. Marie's tranquil loss of consciousness was disturbed immediately. Before Marie could hardly react, young Julian pulled her up. Basic instinct guided him to grab a piece of firewood on the ground. The flame on the piece of wood did deter the hungry wolf for a while. But as soon as Marie and Julian started to retreat from the scene by staggering, the wolf stepped up and followed them menacingly. Julian held the wood steadily; he remembered the stories told by the elders about facing all kinds of beasts: 'the fear of death is always worse than death itself', He retreated slowly, concealing his fear.

Unfortunately, Marie, who was not as firm as her young cousin, made the wrong decision of sprinting as fast as she could. The wolf spotted the terror in her heart and exploited it; it made a low howl and chased her. Human beings, without their miracle of knowledge, were one of the weakest in the natural world; Marie, losing her calmness, was one of the easiest targets for the wolf. Its teeth cut straightly into her left leg. Now the wolf only needed to take the coup de grace by tearing up Marie's throat as her painful running was only futile struggle. But the gruesome end did not come. Julian ran forward and waved the lightened wood in front of the wolf. The wolf was deterred. The glowing fire, as intense as Julian's naive determination, forced the wolf to abandon its aggression and pride as it slowly backed down.

While Marie was almost in tears, partly because of the deep wound on her left leg and largely due to her frustration with her incompetence, young Julian walked towards her with sympathy. "You're not going to die! You won't die!" he spoke with such determination as if it sounded like he was angry. Marie was slowly pulled up by his tender hand. "I'm taking you to the lake to bathe under the moon. Then, your wounds will be healed." It was a magical story told by their grandmother, who had passed away one year ago. When their grandmother was at the age of Marie, she was once badly injured but was saved by bathing under the full moon in the lake deep in the forest. Both Marie and Julian heard the account a few times from their grandmother. Normally, Marie would laugh at Julian's naiveté for believing such things. But the nightmarish twist of their fate had made her not to question the possibility of anything.

They had not much idea about where the lake was. They just knew that it was right under the moon where it was so bright that anyone bathing in the lake would think that they were alone at the centre of the world. But as Julian was leading her wounded cousin slowly across the forest, they found out that they were always under the moon wherever they went. Yet, Julian would never stop; he had a feeling that if he stopped, he would lose Marie forever.

"Seek and trace for the stream. Perhaps it will lead to the lake," said Marie, who now sincerely believed that the lake was her only hope. They calmed themselves and summoned their intuition that was built up from years of playing in this forest. This instinct seemed to provide them an innate bearing as if there was a compass in their mind. The stream was found; it was getting thicker and it was flowing along a downward slope. Finally, they found the lake.

The lake was large, pure and tranquil, totally untainted by the dark woods. Just like everything that is pure and tranquil, the lake is the definition of solitude. It stubbornly separated itself from the trees. And it was indeed right under the moon. A large shinning reflection of the moon shimmered on the water. Julian expected Marie to go immediately into the pure water to heal her wound. Yet, something unexpected made her just stop and stare even when her life was at stake. It was a figure in the middle of the lake. Marie had never seen such golden hair before. It was so gold that it made real gold seemed not to be precious at all. Judging from the long curly golden hair, Marie assumed the figure was female. Then, Marie heard something. "Was the distant figure singing?" she wondered. There were only four notes - four separate and distinct notes. Four simple notes formed a mesmerizing melody that Marie would remember for the rest of her life. Such profound melody would be deeply locked into her mind for the rest of her years.

For minutes, Marie was simply captured by this melody and stood there motionless. She completely neglected the pure healing water in front of her. "Marie, Marie, get into the water. Just get into the water," Julian, who managed to break free from that melody and retained his alertness, spoke softly. Marie put her numb toes into the water; then her two legs descended into this tranquil liquid; her body followed her legs as she walked straight into the lake. The coldness of the water alleviated the sharp pain of her wound. Within seconds, her whole body was rejuvenated as if she was new-born. Marie walked towards the center of the lake as the repeating melody pulled her closer.

Marie could now have a closer look at the person at the middle of the lake. The person was indeed female; her hair was so gold that it created a bright reflection on the water; she was not tall, even a bit shorter than Marie. She wore clothes that was so unusual to Marie - unique material that were thinner than paper, with a sharp and pale color that Marie had never seen before. The woman looked directly into the eyes of Marie but did not stop singing; her eyes did not deliver any love or hate; they did not demonstrate indifference or curiosity either. Such eyes were the result of years of seeing; many years, hundreds or perhaps thousands of years.

She finally stopped singing as Marie stood right in front of her. Marie regained her consciousness as the melody stopped and she found herself standing in front of the mysterious woman. "Welcome. Bathing directly under the moon, isn't it good?" spoke the woman. She was speaking in Marie's language, but with a radically different accent. Before Marie could react and ask all the questions in her mind, the woman spoke again, "Have your wounds been healed?" Marie looked closer to the woman's eyes. Patches of white, brown, blue and green were moving in a swirl. Marie felt dazed just by looking at that pair of eyes. They were the reflection of an abyss that was deeper than Marie could possibly imagine.

Marie decided to stop looking at the eyes and focus on the conversation. "Yes, the water has healed me," she said softly. "Who are you? Why are you here?" Marie finally asked. The woman smiled slightly, which somehow calmed Marie's bewilderment. "I have come here to bath under the moonlight tonight. The moon is always here. Things come and go but the moon always baths alone in the dark sky with me."

"So do you live here? What is your name?" Marie asked again. "I do not have a name. I do not need one. I do not belong to here, or anywhere." the woman spoke softly as some sort of bitterness flowed out.

"What is your name and his then?" the woman pointed at Julian. "I am Marie and he is my younger cousin Julian. We came from the village..." As soon as Marie uttered the word 'village', tears burst out and could not be stopped. Marie buried her head in the chest of the woman as if she was her mother even though she was a complete stranger, a very strange stranger.

The woman did not move. Concerned about Marie, Julian also got into the lake and approached them carefully. "Our village...our village was destroyed. They killed us all, just today..." Marie uttered the words to the woman's chest. The woman remained motionless. The tears finally stopped when Marie's eyes ached. The woman brought the devastated girl out of the lake and sat at the lake side. Marie spoke slowly about everything as if she would never have the chance to speak again; she talked about her past; she talked about what happened that day; she showed her fear of pain and fear of death without any self-restraint. The woman just listened; she remained silent until Marie finished.

"It was unfortunate, Marie," the woman finally spoke after a moment of silence. "But it has become the past. People died and they are forever gone. Memories, there are only memories. I understand you because I also have a lot of memories," she continued.

"How long have you lived?" Marie asked curiously; she had a feeling that the woman sitting beside her had lived for many years.

The woman turned and gazed at Marie; she said, "Many years. I am older than everything you have seen before." Marie then realized the abyss in the woman's eyes was a result of time – there was no end in either the past or the future. "You are immortal!" Marie said in awe.

"I was not. But I am," said the woman, "And...I have the power to give you immortality," said the woman. "I could see that you fear death. You fear that sense of loss; you fear nothingness; you fear stepping into another uncertain world."

Marie nodded; she devoted her full attention to the woman.

"Marie, do you want to depart from all the fears? Do you want something that is everlasting?

Marie nodded.

"Marie, do you want me to give you immortality?"

Marie nodded.

"Follow me. We will perform the ritual under the moon. The moon is at her brightest and fullest tonight."

Julian, who was also beside Marie but was an outsider from this sacred conversation, was somewhat uneasy. "Wait Marie," Julian held Marie's arm as she was going to follow the woman.

"Come on Julian. Follow us. We can stay young and live forever. No one can harm us again. There will be nothing more to fear," said Marie with an innocent optimism.

Julian was young and passionate about life. He had a strong determination to live despite all the suffering that he had endured. But he could never share Marie's optimism about immortality. Despite Marie's repeated persuasion or pleading, he refused to follow and at that moment the destiny of the two loving cousins would be separated.

"The night will be over and the moon will fade. We have to perform the ritual now," said the woman as Marie was still trying to persuade her reluctant cousin. "Can you help my cousin to gain immortality if he wishes to in the future?" asked Marie. "If we meet again..." replied the woman.

So Marie made the biggest decision of her life – a decision that caused no more future decisions. She left Julian and followed the woman to the center of the lake. When they were back at the center of the lake, the woman held both Marie's hands tightly. "Close your eyes," she said and began to sing. She sang the four separate and clear notes once again. The melody was so mesmerizing and powerful that once again Marie forgot about space and time. She became detached from her surrounding such that her full attention was drawn to what was coming from the woman's mouth.

The woman changed the mesmerizing melody into a series of words. It was of course a language unknown to Marie. These mysterious words were the core of the ancient spell. But Marie became unable to pay attention to the mysterious words uttered by the woman as the woman's hands were cold, extremely cold. The coldness was transmitted to Marie and spread throughout her whole body. Marie's skin was like ice and all her organs were losing warmth too. Her body heat had completely disappeared and she felt that all the blood in her veins was frozen. "From now on, nothing can harm you. There will be no end. Your soul will be everlasting," said the woman as she finally released Marie's hands.

Marie opened her eyes. "Is that it?" she asked curiously as she did not have any special feeling apart from the complete coldness that still persisted within her body. "Yes, you are immortal."

"But I...I feel so cold," said Marie slowly, who was also looking at her hands and feet to see if anything had changed.

"It is cold. Contrary to what normal people think, warmth is opposed to life force. Warmth wastes your life force away. It is by staying perpetually cold that we can live forever. You will get used to it."

Marie looked at the abyss in the woman's eyes again. It was really deep. But nothing could be found in that swirling abyss despite its unimaginable depth.

"You have nothing to fear again, Marie. Just live," said the woman and she turned away. She walked towards the woods and disappeared in the mist of dawn.

***

Thousands of soldiers were fighting to their last breath and were spilling their blood on the open fields; towns and villages were raided again and again until the inhabitants had nothing to offer and were slaughtered; people found that dignity was the most useless idea ever as they started to devour the rats on the streets and the human corpses beside the rats.

Meanwhile, Julian and Marie escaped all these calamities as they stayed in the forest. They had built a small hut from wood thanks to their innocent ingenuity from their childhood experiences. They were fed by anything that was edible and could be found in the forest, which was highly insufficient. Julian always found his stomach empty. When he saw his reflection in the water, he found that his chubby face had disappeared and his arms and legs had become bony. He was also getting more and more tired each morning and desired to sleep longer. In spite of that, Julian retained his spirit and managed to make jokes frequently that would make Marie laugh.

Marie, who also had an empty stomach all the time, did not share Julian's loss of weight and decline of health. But Marie discovered more and more abnormal changes around her. Leaves of the trees that were near her hut turned brown and fell on the ground rapidly even during summer. The flowers around her did not blossom in this high summer but withered briskly. There were dead insects near her hut all the time.

Marie was saddened by the lifeless atmosphere around her. But at that time, she could barely realize that she was the source of this deadly aura. At that time, she failed to comprehend the eternal rule of all living beings – the survival of a living being always means the death of other beings; the existence of any living being always depletes the existence of others. And as a being that has to live forever, Marie would constantly drain the life force of any beings around her. She would drain life force of other beings to ease her tiredness, heal her wounds, cure her sickness and prevent her from aging. But as she was still benefitting from the very early days of her immortality, she barely realized that she would become a solitary void.

Julian was getting weaker every day. He now spent half of the day lying down but his eyes were open, as if they were pleading for help that would not come. One night as Marie was sleeping rather soundly after a tiring day, some noises were repeatedly intercepting her dreams. She was so tired and ignored those noises. But the squeaking of the wooden door finally woke her up. She saw her young cousin holding a bag, standing at the door side and gazing at Marie with mixed feelings.

Marie did not immediately realize that her beloved cousin was going to leave her when she woke up abruptly. Instead, young Julian, who saw that Marie was looking at him, threw down his bag right away and rushed towards Marie. While Marie was still confused about why her young cousin was rushing towards her and giving her the tightest hug ever, tears streamed down Julian's bony face. "I will never leave you, Marie. Never!" said Julian with his shaky voice.

Marie also held Julian as tight as she could. Though she was not entirely sure what Julian was saying and why he wanted to leave her before that, she knew that Julian's mind was in a deep turmoil and the tightest hug was all that she could give.

Julian's situation did not improve. He became sluggish and could barely help in finding food. His only task became collecting firewood and Marie did everything else. He talked less and less; he retained his precious smile and made a few jokes from time to time. One evening when the two of them were sitting beside the fire and consuming the tiny amount of mushrooms that Marie had found, Julian said, "I wish I can hear music. I miss all that music."

Music was always the highlight of every fest and every happy occasion in their village. It was also one of the few arts through which the modest and common villagers could channel their sentiments, release their imagination and express what words could not tell. Marie and Julian liked the pipe and tabor that were often played by villagers in the fests. They loved the lute played by a talented young man called Kasper in their village. The lute delivered quiet but fascinating music, as if the notes were dancing and the melodies were telling all kinds of stories. "I wish I could hear the lute again," said Julian.

Marie could understand Julian's wish. But the only music they could hear in the forest was the sound of the insects, the howl of the wolves at night, the running wind and the flowing water. They must go to villages and towns to hear the lute.

When Marie looked at Julian's bony face that used to be chubby and his big eyes on his bony face, she knew that it was probably the only thing that she could do for her young cousin. She was determined to fulfill his wish. "We must go to all the villages and towns until we have found someone playing the lute," said Marie with a kind smile on her face. Julian replied with a joyous nod.

They left their little haven as Julian closed the wooden door of the hut for one last time. Marie brought a big bag with mushrooms, berries and a few apples which she spent a lot of effort in collecting. She brought another smaller bag with a wooden sharp dagger and a few other simple tools made from wood. And these were the only possession that the two of them held. They were fortunate that it was still summer as the only clothes they had were the ones that they were wearing on the day of the ruthless destruction of their village. Every day, they washed those two pieces of clothing, which were the only things associated with the past, in the forest stream. Yet, the pure stream water could never wash away the memories from these two pieces of relics. Both the blissful days and the traumatic single day lingered on the clothes. Marie and Julian tried to leave everything from the past behind by wearing nothing in those high summer days. But as they had nothing, they discovered that the only thing that they could think about was still the past.

Now Marie and Julian wore those clothes once again. Holding those two bags, Marie still managed to hold young Julian's hand as they walked slowly out of the forest. Julian, whose health had been fading away, could only walk slowly without holding anything. They would not go back to their village even though they might find all the tools they needed or even a lute in the cottages because they knew that they would also find the skeleton and decayed corpses of their loved ones.

They had already walked out from the forest on the first day. For the next few days, they walked past a lot of fields where the crops were mostly burnt down; there were broken carts or abandoned farming equipments occasionally but there was not a single soul to be seen. In the third evening since they had left the forest, they found a very small abandoned hamlet where there were only a dozen of cottages.

Life sometimes was particularly generous to those who wanted to continue a journey. Marie could find packs of millet and even bread in one of those cottages. How long the food had been lying there was totally not their concern as Marie would consume them no matter what. She cooked porridges from those millets as Julian had great difficulty biting down those hard bread. She had also found usable sanitary clothes from the cottages.

They decided to stay in that abandoned hamlet for some time before continuing their search for music. During the third morning of their stay, a group of civilians was passing through the hamlet. They were refugees who had abandoned their own village. There were sighing elderly, crying children, distressed women and wounded men. A few tired donkeys were pulling carts along the road. "We were on the road to a town in the west," said one of the men who had a broken arm.

The group of people did not ask Marie and Julian to share their stories. They knew that there would not be any happy stories to tell; they simply offered them to travel with the group out of pure sympathy. Marie and Julian took the offer without hesitation and sat on one of those carts that were pulled by the tired donkeys. There was not much talking during the trip. Marie and Julian, who had not met anyone else for weeks, still did not feel the need to talk to others. In fact, everyone spent all the time contemplating how many days they still had and were too tired to talk. Marie, who did not have the need for such contemplation, found herself becoming a pair of eyes whose sole purpose was to witness all the suffering and pessimism around her.

Whenever there was a woman crying in the group, a man would say, "Everything would get better when we arrive at Tinsburg. The war had not spread to there yet."

They arrived at Tinsburg three days later . It was a well-fortified and relatively remote town so it did not attract the attention of any armies. Tons of refugees flocked to this town everyday; there were people sitting at every street corner and outside of every building; they were doing nothing but waiting desperately for food. As Marie's group was wandering around the streets, hundreds of hungry eyes were fixating at them as all the refugees hoped that the group would have some food to share with them.

"Well here is Tinsburg. And I'm afraid we need to part now. May God be with you two," said one of the men to Marie and Julian; he also gave a bowl and a small pack of grain to Marie. "May God be with you two," he said once again and left.

Marie held Julian's hand tightly as they wandered through one shabby street after another in search of someone playing music. Being a village girl who had only visited towns for a dozen times throughout her life, Marie did not have the courage to talk to anyone in Tinsburg. In fact, she felt uncomfortable as there were so many desperate eyes looking at her when she was wandering around. Finally, the two of them decided to sit down just like the thousands of other desperate souls in the city. They opened their eyes all the time hoping that their empty souls could be filled. Their eyes remained open until they decided to sleep at a street corner because they were too hungry and had nothing better to do.

When Marie opened her eyes the next morning, she realized that everyone else in that shabby street had disappeared. She got up and carried young Julian on her back as he was too weary to move a single step. Marie was not a particularly strong girl but she had no difficulty carrying young Julian as he had become harrowingly thin. Marie wandered to the town square and found a huge crowd there, pushing each other out of the way.

"Order! Don't push! Order!" A few guards were shouting repeatedly and waving their pikes to try to settle the disorder crowd. The nobles who ruled Tinsburg decided to share some food to the poor refugees in the town; bags of grains were given out by the guards and the famished refugees were using their last breath to push for a way to get a bag of grain that could extend their lives for a week or two. Marie, who needed to carry Julian, of course could not even get into a position that would enable them to see a bag of grain. She could only see one or two persons occasionally coming out from the crowd holding a bag of grain with tears of joy in their eyes.

An old woman, who held a bag of grain as tightly as if it was her only child, tripped and fell. All the millets fell out from the bag. A man immediately rushed towards the millets, kneeled down and devoured them as fast as he could. The old woman cried; she desperately hit the back of the man. Yet, the man ignored the beating completely and continued to devour the millets on the ground. Marie could not watch anymore and headed back to a quiet street corner.

"I am tired," murmured Julian very softly to Marie's ears. "Don't worry, I'm sure we will find lute music somewhere," Marie replied softly in a shaky voice that could not hide her inner turmoil and fear. She could not put aside the fear of losing Julian soon. This made it so hard for her to concentrate and she kept wandering around every street aimlessly. "I should ask someone...Ask someone," she whispered to herself.

"Sir, do you know where I can hear lute music," Marie picked up her courage and asked a passing man, who gazed at Marie and then completely ignored her. "Excuse me. Do you know where I can hear lute music?" Marie asked another man. "Lute? Are you out of your mind? Who cares about lute these days," the man said furiously. Marie continued asking desperately; she asked virtually everyone passing by. Yet, while a few of them uttered a simple 'No", most of them simply ignored her.

"Lute, where could I find someone playing the lute?" Marie finally could not stand the frustration as she shouted at the street. All the empty eyes around the streets met Marie's frustrated face for a second and then ignored her immediately. Marie was so desperate that she rushed out of the town with Julian on her back. She was frustrated by the lack of response from the people; she was frustrated with herself for not being able to fulfill such a simple wish for Julian. Julian was already half unconscious when Marie was rushing out of the town; he was breathing hard but was desperately trying to keep his eyes open. They had gone outside of the city walls; it was much more tranquil and restful than being in the crowded town. There were endless knolls outside the city walls; only a few small cottages could be seen along the uneven horizon.

"I can hear birds singing," said Julian very softly as he was breathing hard. "Yes, there are birds singing, Julian," said Marie in her shaky voice, who tried to hold her tears. But at that very moment, Marie could hear lute music; she was very sure that there was lute music and it was not a hallucination. She carried Julian on her back once again and walked towards the source of music apprehensively with a rapidly beating heart.

"Can you hear the lute, Julian?" asked Marie. "No," Julian uttered a single weak word with his purple lips. "Look! Julian! There it is!" Marie shouted as she pointed towards a man sitting under a tree, playing a lute in a relaxed manner. "Look! Julian! Can you see it?" Marie asked once again. "I can!" Julian said in an extremely weak voice but could not hide his excitement and joy. Julian's answer calmed Marie's apprehensive heart and she finally managed to smile and cry without any sound at the same time.

The man, who played the lute alone under the tree, was rather young. But he had a black beard and black curly hair that made people think that he had gone through a lot of journeys and had experienced a lot. He did not stop playing this sentimental melody when Marie was approaching him. The melody was as soulful as the music that was played by Kasper in Marie's village. But it was quite different from what was played by Kasper as the music from this young bearded man also delivered a mysterious aura as if such notes could not be comprehended by normal human beings.

The young bearded man finally had eye contact with Marie. Marie put down Julian from her back and the young bearded man studied Julian briefly. He gave a light touch on Julian's forehead. Julian was breathing very hard and was trying to maintain his attention on the young bearded man while keeping his eyes open. The young bearded man picked up his lute again, paused for a while and played a relaxing and joyous melody. Julian tried to stay focused on the relaxing melody; the melody was somehow soothing him into a comfortable sleep; yet Julian wanted to listen more. The slow and relaxing music was getting more and more distant; yet Julian still tried to listen to it. Had the music gradually turned into the angelic harp sound within the clouds or had it completely disappeared? Julian barely knew, or did he?

Marie was holding Julian tightly. She held him tightly when his breath was subsiding; she held him tightly when his eyelid was sinking with the sunset; she held him tightly when his heart became a soft stone. The young bearded man continued playing until the sun had completely disappeared from the horizon. He put down his lute and gave a kiss on Julian's forehead. He also gave a kiss to Marie, who was still holding Julian.

Marie put Julian on her back once again. She had decided to bring Julian back to the forest so that she could sleep with him in the hut. The wind began to howl as she was walking alone in a dark night without a single star in the sky. The wind blew up her dark blonde hair and made the hair hitting her ears repeatedly. Marie was pretending that Julian was whispering to her ears from her back. Julian's whisper was indistinct but consistent; it lasted throughout the night.

Marie was tired, starving and unwell the next few nights after the long walks. She lay on the grass with Julian at her side. But there was no fresh dew on the grass to wake her up in the morning. Instead, the grass she slept on all turned yellowish brown. But Marie was rejuvenated every morning; she was not hungry and was perfectly spirited. Marie looked at the lifeless grass and pondered over the deathly aura around her.

On the seventh day, Marie realized that it was impossible for her to bring Julian back to the forest. Julian's body was entirely dehydrated; it became a solid hard figurine with thin skins covering the bones. Marie spent a day bringing up dirt and mud. She dug very hard to make sure Julian could rest undisturbed by the howling wind or tramping of the troops. She did not write anything on the ground above Julian as she did not know how to write; she did not erect anything on the ground as she had nothing to put; she did not recite any words or passage as she could hardly recall any. The memorial came during Marie's dream as she was exhausted after burying Julian's body. In her dream, Julian was pulling her once again towards the forest in a normal afternoon...

Marie woke up with a dead butterfly beside her. She looked at it closely. As she had already buried Julian, she had nothing to do but to ponder the death of the butterfly. And on this eighth day, she finally understood the eternal rule of all living beings and the unavoidable effect of her immortality. She killed the butterfly. She did not know how to react when she understood this fact. At first, she really wanted to laugh, thinking about the irony and cruelty of immortality. Then she sobbed, hoping that sobbing could exhaust her and put her into sleep again.

***

Lying in the little hut deep in the forest, she thought about everything. Since she had come back to this little sanctuary, she just spent most of the time lying there doing nothing. She had the perfect spirit to do anything and walk as far as she could every morning. Yet, she did not have any impetus or enthusiasm to do so. She chose to lie there and watch the wooden ceiling for hours and hours like a French philosopher. She let her mind wander aimlessly. As a result, she lost the sense of time, for her mind was only filled with memories.

Gradually, everything slowly lost its value until its sole meaning was a reminder of the past. Every tree in the forest only reminded her of the playing with her cousin. Even the word 'Marie' became distant and meaningless for her. And in an insignificant late evening, she stared at the wooden door of the hut. She remembered the night when Julian was preparing to leave the hut but could not manage a step away. She could not put aside a dreadful thought. Julian understood the eternal rule of all living beings and the devastating cost of immortality way before she did. He was trying to leave her to stop the draining of his precious life force. Julian did not die simply because of lack of food like millions of people in nearby towns and villages did. Marie was another reason for his death. Yet, Julian stayed with her until his last breath despite knowing this cruel rule throughout his last days. He was determined to ease loneliness away from her until his final breath.

At that moment, she hated herself with the utmost disgust and loved Julian with the greatest admiration. She decided to wait at the lake under the moon hoping to meet the mysterious woman again. The mysterious woman was her only hope to bring back Julian. She put herself into the cool water to purify her disturbed mind all the time and she just waited there under the moonlight irrespective of the waxing and waning of the moon. Every night, the moon seemed to enjoy the girl's solitude. The moon was glad that there was a girl who needed to bear this endless solitude with her.

On the night when the moon reached its full size, the mysterious woman emerged like an astronomical event. Once again, Marie heard the four unforgettable notes before the mysterious woman fully appeared.

"Please, could you...could you bring back my cousin?" the girl asked; she found that it was rather difficult to utter the words as she had not spoken for quite a long time. "His name is Julian. He is my cousin. You have seen him before," she spoke with an urgent pleading voice as she held the woman's hand tightly.

"I could not bring back the dead," the woman spoke with neither sympathy nor hatred just like the first time they met.

"But you have the power to bring immortality..."

"The dead would be forever gone. They ceased to exist."

Marie's heart sank but she continued to speak anxiously. "But...but at least...could you end my immortality? I want...I want to live like a normal person. I keep killing all the things around me."

"I could not do so."

"Why? Why? Why do I have to destroy everything in order to live? Why can I not live with others?" the girl asked; tears of frustration were welling up.

"Because solitude is living," the woman answered with some bitterness.

Anger, frustration, disappointment and every other negative emotion were tormenting the girl. "You...you tricked me! You knew this all the time. You did not tell me that when you gave me immortality!" the girl protested with the greatest frustration ever.

"You chose that yourself. Everyone wanted to live longer. Have you known anyone that wishes to shorten his life even after walking alone for years? Have you known anyone that wishes to end his life despite not finding a single meaning from it?" the woman asked rhetorically.

"No...no! You tricked me! You deceived me because you are jealous of all the others who could have an end. You could not endure your horrible eternal loneliness!"

The woman gave no further answers. She walked away and disappeared in the woods.

Burying her head into the water, the girl realized that her cousin was the greatest person ever. As an innocent child, he knew the devastating cost of immortality and was not lured by eternal life. He sought to live to the fullest with others. But he himself did not live to the fullest; he sacrificed his life to accompany a lonely soul. Such a selfless and prudent child had died. And he would never come back.
Part 2

Ritav woke up from her dream of the south; the southern Mediterranean wind and the smell of the shining seawater lingered in her bed even though she was miles away in a dreary town in the north. Her sensation of the Mediterranean wind and the seawater smell was not from her memories. She was forced to leave the south and sold to this town when she was five years old; she did not have a single memory of the wind and seawater there. Her feeling was instead purely based on her connection with the southern coast; she knew that she would always belong there.

Ritav opened her wooden window slowly; an unpleasant smell from the street flushed in. It was already close to sunset and the gloomy alley outside was getting darker. It had been weeks or even months that she woke up in the evening. For these six or seven years, she only woke up under the morning sun for a few times. In fact, normally she slept right before the sun was going to rise and the daylight in the north was exceptionally short; so no one expected her to get up until the evening.

While she was still reminiscing about her fresh dream and adapting to the decaying air around her, there was an abrupt knock on the door. "Ritav. Are you ready? There are quite some people here tonight," said an annoyed voice. It was Sandra, the procuress and the owner of this inn. Compared to the few procuresses she had worked for before, Sandra was actually the nicest. Sometimes she did get annoyed when some girls were tardy; but Ritav felt that she did genuinely care about all the girls who worked here despite the varying level of care. Being the most popular and gracious girl in the house, or possibly in the town, Ritav got a lot of care from Sandra. "Give me some time," Ritav answered.

Lilac, blue, pink, yellow or white? Ritav was glancing over the dozens of dresses she owned. Most of them were given by the men who admired her, which also numbered in dozens. Lilac was chosen and she prepared to step out of her room and gave out the most gracious look even though thousands of nights before had been and thousands of night after would be the same. As she was descending the wooden staircases, a dozen pairs of eyes were already fixated on her. There were all kinds of men sitting at the wooden tables on the ground floor of the inn. Some were dressed rather elegantly with straight clean white shirts; some wore fancy hats or even pretentious masks to hide their faces; some were travelling workers who had their sweaty clothes and dirty pants; some were totally drunk such that their appearance were least of their concern. But as Ritav was standing there gorgeously with her lilac dress, long healthy black hair and light make-up, all the men there could not hide their sole desire that night in any way.

Ritav was not flattered, nor was she embarrassed. She had got used to it but it did not imply that she was arrogant or proud of it. She behaved perfectly naturally and graciously. Before she let herself being crowded by all these seemingly different but actually identical men, she walked towards Sandra the procuress and asked, 'Where is Marie?'

'I've already called her. She hasn't even stepped out of her room. She is always slow,' said Sandra. Marie was a young girl with dark blonde hair and a plain yet naturally beautiful face. She came from a distant village and used to be a peasant girl. Since Marie started to work and live here two years ago, she gradually became Ritav's closest companion despite the fact that Marie was the quietest person Ritav had ever met.

Ritav did not have the mood to start another night of orgasm before meeting Marie. Marie's taciturnity was always important because it helped Ritav remain sane and pure in her sensual and flamboyant daily life. Ritav went upstairs without paying attention to the eyes fixated on her. She was one of the few people who could act naturally despite the heavy attention on her all the time.

"Marie? Are you ready? How are you?" Ritav knocked on the door gently. At the other side of the door was a girl who had just regained her name two years ago. The girl decided to be lost in a forest for more than twenty years. Despite twenty years having come and passed, she was still the girl since she did not age in the slightest. She had the same youthful eyes, skin and face while a dozen of hundred-year-old trees around her wooden hut had rotted and died.

During those insignificant years, she spent most of the days wandering around the woods or staring at the ceiling in her wooden hut and spent most of the evening bathing in the lake under the moonlight. She went out of the forest and visited towns occasionally. She would trade the mushrooms and fruits that she had collected in those towns; she would also listen to other people in order to know about the world outside. But throughout the twenty years, the truth became more and more obvious to her. Not a single person in the towns cared about her existence. Not a single mind would be alarmed whether she continued to exist or not. Not a single heart looked forward to her coming to the towns again. Reciprocally, she cared less and less about the world outside. She travelled to the towns less and less, until she only left the forest a few times every year.

About two years ago, the girl who looked like sixteen but actually in her late thirties heard the news that the war, which had lasted for thirty years, had finally come to an end. Foreign troops had all withdrawn from the devastated Germania; people in various towns were slowly rebuilding everything from the ruins. As people were all hoping to restart everything from zero, the girl decided to give herself a second chance. She found and stayed in this rapidly growing town. The town grew really fast, but certainly not in an orderly and decent manner. Hundreds of men arrived in the town every week; they built houses everywhere they wanted. The houses were so close to each other such that people could not breathe comfortably in the disordered and narrow streets. And as there were men flocking to this artificial jungle every day, an originally insignificant inn was crowded with visitors every day.

The inn owner, Sandra, refused to call her inn a brothel because there were indeed a dozen of rooms in this inn for visitors to stay overnight. However, it soon became obvious that most of the men did not intend to stay overnight alone in one of those rooms. Most of them would just stay for an hour with a young woman inside. When the girl who looked like sixteen was stopping in front of this inn and looking curiously, Sandra realized that this girl who had a plain but naturally beautiful face could be an asset of the inn. However, when she tried to communicate with this girl, she found her extremely shy and reticent. Sandra asked for the girl's name patiently.

Initially, the girl was reluctant in revealing her name as if her name was an embarrassing secret. After a while, she decided to trust the eyes of Sandra. "I am...I am Marie," the girl responded softly. Finally, the girl had regained her name.

Ritav knocked on the door once again and waited patiently. "I am coming," Marie replied softly. Marie came out of the door; she wore a white tunic. "You look gorgeous, princess Marie," said Ritav in her always approachable manner as she gave a curtsy to Marie. Marie gave a smile and nodded. She liked Ritav; she really liked Ritav. Ritav was open, free, humorous, energetic and exceptionally kind to her. Ritav always made her feel secure, spirited and most importantly – not lonely. Ritav was just slightly over twenty years old and was even a bit shorter than Marie. But to Marie, Ritav was somehow always her elder sister. Marie remained taciturn and shy in general. But when Ritav was beside her, Marie became more voluble. She even saw herself slowly turning back into the joyful and energetic girl when she was really sixteen years old.

They chitchatted for some more time until Sandra the procuress called the two of them impatiently. They had to work just like all other nights. Ritav got so used to the job that she could perform perfectly with the least effort. But for Marie, it was still always quite difficult, not because she had not got used to sleeping with men, but because of the nature of Marie's life.

Throughout the twenty years in the woods, Marie had slowly learnt how to avoid draining other beings' life force. It was certainly not easy; it required a lot of concentration and perseverance. It was like holding the breath for a long time, but in a mental and spiritual sense. The last thing Marie wanted was to drain the life of Ritav, or the other young women working in the inn or any men she would sleep with. She needed people; she needed people so much. So whenever she was being close with Ritav, she was holding her breath spiritually. Whenever she was having vigorous and rhythmic movements with other men in bed, she was holding her breath mentally. So when Ritav finished a long funny conversation with Marie, Ritav would find Marie could not pay much attention to anything else. When the men were looking at Marie contentedly after a thrilling journey, they would find that Marie was so tired to do anything else.

And at this middle of the night, just like most of the nights before, the dozy and inattentive Marie, who had finished a few vigorous journeys with men, would wander away from the inn, from the town and reach the woods outside the noisy town. Her wandering was somehow involuntary as her body and mind demanded it. And deep in the woods without the existence of any human beings, Marie would lie down and draw life force as quickly as she could involuntarily and obligatorily for her body so that she would be rejuvenated for the next day. During some nights when she was exceptionally tired or rather unwell, she would simply fall asleep on the grass, turning them into yellowish brown corpses when morning came. And as she tiptoed back to her room in the inn, no one in the inn would notice, not even Sandra, as all women were so tired after spending the whole night to accommodate the endless stream of men.

Marie fell asleep on the grass in the woods that night. The warm sun ray woke her up and she was completely rejuvenated. She swept the dead butterfly away from her body. As she walked out from the woods and prepared to tiptoe back to her room, someone grabbed her shoulder. A strange but low voice hissed, "You are accused of witchcraft and you will be taken to immediate interrogation. Why are you alone early in the morning in the woods? You must be performing evil sorcery." Marie's heart pounded; she struggled off from the hand that was grabbing her shoulder tightly and turned around.

It was Ritav; she was mimicking a man's voice. "Ri...Ritav? Why are you here?"Marie asked.

"Well, why are you here then? Aren't you afraid that the wolf would tear little Marie's skin off?" Ritav asked as she was going to bite Marie with her teeth.

"I...well...I," Marie stuttered. "Well, I just couldn't sleep," Ritav interrupted to avoid Marie's embarrassment. "I asked Sandra yesterday whether I can leave the inn for a while and travel as I have earned and saved quite some money. She agreed!" Marie looked at Ritav's vivid brown eyes and energetic body movements as Ritav talked. Ritav continued, "Tell me, Marie. Have you seen the sea before? The sky and water kiss on the horizon. Have you seen it before?"

Despite having so much time throughout the last twenty years, Marie never travelled to the sea. In fact, the lake where she bathed under the moonlight was the only body of water that she had seen before. "Never," Marie replied.

"Guess what? I asked Sandra if you could come with me. She simply nodded!" Ritav pulled Marie's arms excitedly and continued without taking a breath, "You must come. There is no reason that you shouldn't. Not only men can travel." Marie felt dazed at first and then immediately nodded.

"I wish I could travel south to reach the Mediterranean Sea. But it's quite far from here. So we will travel north to reach another sea. Still, it will be a great trip," Ritav spoke with pure excitement and hugged Marie tightly. Marie could not describe the delight in her heart. Ritav gave a kiss on Marie's forehead and whispered, "I'm going to buy things to prepare for the trip. Will you come with me, little princess?"

***

"Three sets of dress, blankets, one extra pairs of shoes, a knife in case some filthy men think we are some weak little girls and most importantly the universal language of all people – money," Ritav spoke cheerfully as she was giving a final check on her luggage. "Marie? Are you ready?" Ritav asked. Marie wore a beautiful yellow tunic bought by Ritav. "Oh, my little sunflower!" Ritav tickled Marie.

The two girls put their luggage on a cart pulled by two horses. Ritav kissed the cheek of Mudock, the driver of the cart. "Don't worry, Marie. I've known Mudock for years. He is a good lad," said Ritav when Marie was climbing up into the cart.

Ritav did not stop talking when the cart was travelling north. When she picked up a lute and started to play and sing, Marie buried her face into the blankets that she had brought. "What's the matter, little sunflower?" Ritav asked as she touched Marie's hair.

"Nothing, I'm just...I'm just happy."

But as Ritav continued to sweep her hair tenderly, Marie decided to tell Ritav everything. She realized that there would be no other person in the world who could understand her. If she did not open up with Ritav, she could never share her burden in the future years.

"Ritav, can I tell you a secret?" Marie showed her tearful eyes as she got up from the blankets. "Sure, little sunflower," Ritav immediately gave the most sincere look into Marie's eyes. "Even if my secret is senseless and unbelievable?" Marie asked. "Every word from you is believable."

Marie told Ritav everything. Her magical yet tragic experience and her long but meaningless tale all came out from her mouth like a flood. Ritav listened patiently without any interruption. She listened attentively about the destruction of Marie's village twenty years ago all the way to how Marie tried to lessen the devastating cost of her immortality.

"Do you believe me?" Marie asked as she finally finished her story. Ritav looked at Marie for quite a while and said softly, "I do. I do, Marie."

"You know, Marie. I used to know some gypsies when I was small. They told me some similar stories. They said there was a curse from the moon that made people immortal. But that's all I know," Ritav said. Ritav grabbed Marie's hand and continued, "But wait. That's why I realize your face hasn't changed throughout the two years since you have come. Normally, young girls change a lot after two years. But your face always remains the same! Consider that, women age as quickly as...well, I don't know...But how fortunate you are!"

Marie remained silent and Ritav spoke again, "And thanks for taking from the trees and grasses instead from me! I will be a skeleton now if you have not done so." Even after receiving such a shocking secret, Ritav retained her vigor and humor perfectly.

"Marie, I also have a secret to share with you though it is not as magical as your tale," Ritav said gently. She sat closer to Marie and continued, "I always have a special attachment with the south. An attachment I thought no one would understand. Though I was born there, I do not have any concrete memories of the south. But still, I dream about the beautiful sea, the warm weather, the fresh delicacies and the fervent people there nearly every night. They remind me that I always belong to the south instead of that gloomy town.'

Marie tried to picture the south through her imagination as Ritav continued, 'I'm sure I will return there someday in the future. It is not easy to reach there. There are many mountains and forests to be traversed. But I'm saving money so that one day I can cross all those mountains and finally buy a house at the seaside, enjoying the Mediterranean wind blowing to my face.' Then, Ritav grabbed Marie's hand once again and asked, 'And Marie, I also hope that you can come with me when that day comes. Will you come with me?'

Marie imagined such a future. She is sure that it will be blissful days and she cannot wish for more. But then it unavoidably crosses her mind again. 'Thank you very much, Ritav. But what if...what if...I live...'

'You live on and I die?' Ritav finished Marie's sentence quickly. She continued, 'Well, I hope I can start a family in the south. I'm serious about that. I'm sure my family and descendants will accompany you when I'm in the grave.' Ritav answered Marie's concern casually as if living forever is not such monstrosity to be afraid of. She continued confidently, 'And if you are really fed up with life, I'm sure there will always be a way to end it. There is an end to everything, even immortality. If you really want to end your life after a hundred years of boredom, which I think you shouldn't actually, there will be a way to end it. The Gypsies, the Eastern mystics or the Arabic alchemists. I'm sure they will have an answer to that.' Once again, Ritav tried to resolve a perpetual question about life and death for Marie casually as she inherently believed that her comic and casual approach to life is the panacea for everything.

Marie was of course not totally convinced by Ritav's optimism. However, the confident tone and eyes of Ritav and her casual laughs had somehow made Marie think that the future was not important at all. What mattered most was the present as the present for Marie was Ritav's eyes and laughter.

'By the way, I'm sure you will be very tired if you are not trying to kill me throughout the trip! Let's tell Mudock to stop for a while so that you can release yourself and kill some poor trees,' said Ritav comically. Indeed, Marie could barely hold her breath mentally anymore after a whole day of sitting closely to Ritav and talking with her. She nodded embarrassingly to show her need to leave Ritav. She left the cart, lay down on a green field hundred feet away from the horse cart and fell into another deep sleep.

***

Ritav and Marie were lying casually side by side on the gentle sand. The casual coming and going of waves form a peaceful hymn that would be a perfect background for doing anything. Above them were a few albatrosses that occasionally added interesting notes to this hymn. Far away in front of the two girls was indeed the horizon where the water and the sky kissed. There were a few yachts in distance moving slowly as if they were not moving at all.

Ritav and Marie had arrived at the coast for two days. There was a beautiful coastal town, which was not densely populated and completely contrasted the town where Marie and Ritav worked. Half a mile away from the town was an extraordinarily stunning coast where the sand was so soft that Ritav had the urge to kiss them.

'Close your eyes, Marie,' said Ritav. Marie did so. 'Now. Focus on the present, not the past, nor the future,' said Ritav in a breeze-like calm voice. 'Everything is not important except this moment. Feel the wind. Hear the water. You are as free as the wind. As fluid as the water.' It is so comfortable that Marie seemed not to hear Ritav speaking . Instead, it was just a comfortable voice.

The soft comfortable voice continued, 'You are me. I am you.' The girl felt her consciousness dissolving, slowly dissolving into nothingness. Everything was forgotten, except her breath. Then, her breath disappeared too. 'At this moment, we are nothing, but become everything. There is only...everything.'

______

The girl opened her eyes once again. There was sand below her, pale blue sky with albatrosses above her and a girl with healthy long black hair beside her. She was Marie again as she came back from nothing and everything.

'Hey,' Ritav patted Marie's head and asked, 'how do you feel?'

"I....I don't know. Special. I...disappeared."

"Did you for one moment really become as free as the wind and as fluid as water?" Ritav asked. Marie nodded.

"Did you for one moment become nothing and everything at the same time?" Ritav asked. Marie thought for a while and slowly nodded.

Ritav smiled, "Congratulations. You've just found a way to avoid draining others' life other than holding your breath strenuously. I genuinely fear that you will get suffocated even if you are not holding your breath literally, but just mentally. I could imagine that it is an extremely tiring thing to do."

Ritav laughed and continued, "You know why? If you think that you don't exist, you basically don't even need to get life from others. Because..." Ritav paused, flipped her hair, imagined herself as a philosopher and continued, "Because you only exist if you think you do. Otherwise, you don't."

Marie was dazed and confused for a moment. But then she soon understood.

"Now I think I exist because I need to eat. I am hungry," said Ritav as she got up and stretched herself lazily.

The two girls found their way back to the beautiful town and walked casually to a market at the center of the town. Dozens kinds of seafood bizarre to both Ritav and Marie were displayed across the market. The two girls barely knew the name of any fish or shellfish and many of them actually scared them a bit when they were still alive. They walked to a quieter part of the town where there was a rather luxurious inn with a beautiful open garden in front. Tables and chairs were lined up decently across the open garden. Men dressed in clean white shirts served visitors well-cooked seafood that had been freshly caught from the sea. Obviously not all people could sit among those decent tables and chairs to enjoy those fresh delicacies. This luxurious inn only accommodated people that had a 'von' or 'zu' in the middle of their names. Those people wore sumptuous clothes and always had two or three servants behind them.

Ritav and Marie were obviously not such people. However, holding Marie's hands and looking graciously at the eyes of the guardsmen at the gate of the open garden, Ritav walked confidently towards those decent tables. Ritav whispered as she walked, "Marie von dem Wald, are you ready?" Marie whispered, "We shouldn't." "Sssh," Ritav hushed.

However, one guardsman halted them just after they made a few steps into the garden. "Miss. You cannot be in here," he spoke monotonously.

"Pardon me. But do you know who we are?" Ritav spoke at a pitch higher than usual.

"I honestly don't know and I don't care to know. Please leave now," the guardsman spoke.

Marie pulled Ritav's sleeve to signal her to go but Ritav spoke louder, "How dare you? When my father comes, you will find yourself in trouble unless you show better manners."

The guardsman lost his patience, "Now, young woman. Stop fooling around. I warn you. If you do not leave immediately, I will forcefully remove you." An older man with a large wig and a red overcoat walked towards them quickly and asked, "What is the matter?"

Before the guardsman could open his mouth, Ritav spoke angrily, "This guardsman here thought we were imposters fooling around. My father will arrive here in three days. I and my cousin here have arrived at this town earlier to have a pleasant vacation. We stayed in another inn closer to the coast and decided to come here for lunch."

"But sir..."the guardsman tried to interrupt but the older man waved his hand to signal him to shut his mouth. "This gentleman here belittles us just because we wear some more casual clothes in this beautiful summer day," Ritav continued.

"Dear lady, you must be Graf Heinrich von Haselheim's beautiful daughter," the older man said. "Needless to say," Ritav rolled her eyes and gave a soft sigh. The older man continued, "I sincerely apologize for all the confusion and the troubles my subordinate has given you. We have indeed received letters from Graf Heinrich about your whole family staying at our humble place. But unfortunately, we may have missed the message about Graf Heinrich's beautiful daughter arriving earlier."

As the older man led the two girls to a decent table, he continued humbly, "Graf Heinrich is blessed to have such beautiful daughter and niece." "True beauty and nobility could barely be reflected by fancy clothes. They stay with a person," Ritav said. "True, very true, you are absolutely correct, my lady," the older man said as he moved the chair for her to sit.

For the next two hours, Ritav and Marie were served with one dish after another. Only a few small pieces of delicacies were put on each plate orderly as if the cook had an obsession of using new plates. Their glasses were constantly filled with red wine. Ritav behaved and enjoyed the lunch perfectly. On the other hand, Marie, who was also amazed by the quality of the food, could not share the same level of enjoyment. Occasionally, when Marie was chewing these pieces of delicacies, the image of refugees in Tinsburg struggling for a bag of grain suddenly flashed into her mind sharply even though that image was created more than twenty years ago.

The two girls left this beautiful coastal town three days later by the same horse cart with the same driver. But not long after the wheels of the horse cart started rolling on a rough road, Ritav began to vomit. At first, Marie thought that Ritav had eaten too much seafood, which was totally new to their stomachs. But as Ritav kept on vomiting from time to time even a few days after leaving the coastal town, Marie began to worry about her.

"I think I might have a baby," Ritav said and gave a signature half-smile after she had vomited once again. When Marie first came to the inn, Ritav often taught Marie not to fully devote herself when the thrilled men were entering her body; Ritav herself had never got pregnant despite the fact that she had been sleeping with men for five or six years. "How is it possible?" Marie asked.

"Well, it just happens. I guess I was too thrilled at the nights after I knew that I could have a vacation and sort of lowered my guard," Ritav replied with her dry humor.

"Do you know who the father is?" Marie asked this meaningless question.

"Of course I don't. But in any sense it is my child. I will give birth to it and I will raise it up," Ritav spoke with resolve.

"Will you...will you still work in the inn?" Marie asked with concern. "I will work for one or two more years there at most. Then, I will just bring my child with me to the south. I might not have much money by that time. I might not be able to buy a house by the coast when I reach the south. But I will work hard in the south. I want my child to grow up there instead of in that town," Ritav said confidently as if planning the future was as easy as imagining with the clouds.

Ritav looked at Marie and gave a half-smile, "Of course I expect you to come with me, little sunflower. If I have a boy and when he reaches sixteen, there will be an awkward love story between you and him," Ritav then laughed rather loudly.

The laugh was cut short as Ritav vomited once again. "Oh, for God sake. Tell him to stop the cart for a while."

***

Summer passed and Marie had an awfully tiring autumn and winter. She worked more every night as Ritav had stopped sleeping with men since her pregnancy. She bought various things in the market at noon for Ritav as it was not easy for this newly pregnant young woman to move around in the crowded town. Ritav maintained her vigor mentally despite spending most of the time in her room in the inn. It was certainly not an easy time for her as the little creature in her stomach started to dance and kick her abdomen by late autumn. Every day was getting colder and she needed twice the warmth and nourishment to make sure that she and her little creature were well.

On a chilly January day when there was not a single drop of snow but endless piercing wind, Ritav felt that the dancing of the little creature was unusually rampant. She realized that it was the pain of childbirth.

'Only seven months. It could be a premature one,' said the midwife, who was called by Marie immediately as Ritav cried in pain.

As the experienced midwife told Ritav to breathe in and out calmly, Ritav continued to scream in agony as the uterine muscle was contracting unrelentingly. 'I thought it was just like having sex. But oh god, it is...it is so painful. Marie, tell me that I am just having sex,' Ritav retained her humorous tone and even gave out her signature half-smile until she screamed in pain again.

'You are a strong and amusing woman. God will not be too harsh on you,' the midwife said optimistically as she could see the tiniest bit of a small head trying to come out amid the screaming. But her optimism was fading out as an unusually large amount of red liquid kept flowing out from Ritav's lower body such that the clean white bed sheets turned into deep red.

'Call Katja, Susanna and Mia! They're in my place. Hurry!' the midwife told Marie. Sandra the procuress and a few of the young women working in the inn were already waiting nervously outside Ritav's room as Ritav's piercing cry echoed within the inn and covered the noise of the piercing wind from outside completely.

The three women arrived swiftly as Sandra the procuress was bringing out a whole pile of deep red sheets from Ritav's room. "You can do it. You're a strong woman," the midwife kept repeating herself. Drops of sweat appeared on Ritav's forehead. Ritav could vaguely see that Marie was standing beside her. "Marie...Do you still remember that poor little guardsman who prevented us from eating those mouthwatering seafood? He was like..." "Ahhh!" Ritav let out another piercing scream and continued with a male voice, " 'Stop fooling around. I warn you. If you do not leave immediately, I will forcefully remove you.' Haha." Despite seeing another sheet soaked with Ritav's fervent blood, Marie let out a laugh because she understood Ritav.

"I...I wonder how the older man would give a tough lecture to him after that," Ritav spoke faintly until she let out another cry. "When will it stop?" Ritav asked and pleaded at the same time as the midwife was pressing her abdomen and another woman was spreading her legs with blood all over her hands. Marie could not hold back anymore and started to cry. Ritav could sense it even though she was overwhelmed by endless sharp pain. "Oh, don't cry. My little sunflower. It will be over. People like me will not die so easily. Think of the seafood, the sand..." Marie did not want to bring more fear to Ritav. So she went out of the room and sat on the floor outside, crying out loud to form a disturbing sonata with Ritav's screams. And from time to time, another deep red sheet was thrown out of the room or one of the four women helping Ritav rushed out with her bloody hands and shook her head.

By six o'clock in the evening, eleven sheets had already been used to soak up Ritav's passionate blood. It was the very same blood that enabled Ritav to talk avidly throughout the years, the very same blood that made her feel hopeful about the distant future, the very same blood that let her be perfectly gracious and humorous under all circumstances. Since such precious fervent blood had all decided to leave Ritav callously, Ritav descended into lethargy. Her unjustified optimism and humor were finally pushed away by fear. Jokes about seafood or sex were replaced by short phrases like "call the doctor" or "save me". Her signature half-smile turned into struggling gasping.

Everything became so distant to Ritav all of a sudden. The plan of going to the south was like some other people's plan; every person she knew including Marie turned into strangers. Marie was holding Ritav's hand and looking into Ritav's eyes. All the grace and joy had left and Ritav's eyes became the eyes of most people, voids leading to pure fear.

"I..."Ritav tried to speak but she could only gasp after the very first word. She turned her eyes away from Marie and stared at the oil lamp hanging from the ceiling.

......

Ritav's agonizing struggle ended at about eight o' clock. Her little creature was drowned by blood long before that. The two of them lay on a deep red bed sheet motionlessly in a room thousands of miles away from the beautiful southern coast.

***

"The passing of Ritav indeed brings great grief among us. But she is in our Lord's garden. And our Lord will one day bring everlasting joy to all of His followers. Revelation 21:4, He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away..." A lowly priest gave a short speech as dozens of people gathered in a cemetery behind a small parish church outside the town.

Marie, who stood beside the plain wooden coffin, was not listening to a single word from the priest. In fact, from her memory, Ritav had never talked about God or heaven except for shouting "Oh God," when she was surprised. The overwhelming majority of the people who mourned about Ritav in this calm spring day were women. None of the men who were involved in the thrilling and intimate exercises with Ritav witnessed this event.

Weeping notes arrived as they were regarded as an essential musical background for any funeral. As the small wooden coffin slowly descended into the dark underground perpetually, the weeping notes intensified. A few young women who worked in the inn cried "go peacefully" or "rest in peace" to add more texture to this mourning symphony. But Marie could hardly devote herself to this symphony. She could not have a single drop of tears; she could not utter a single appropriate word to bless the fate of Ritav. Instead, she felt as if there was a hole in her heart that prevented her to have the strength to do anything. She slowly withdrew from the front row of the mourners as that lasting hole in her heart caused an unbearable heartache.

She was frightened by hundreds of strangers' eyes in the streets as she was retreating back to her room in the inn. She just lay on the bed staring at the ceiling just as she did twenty years ago in the small wooden hut in the forest. She knew that she was going to repeat the way she was twenty years ago but she could not prevent it. She thought about everything except time and action just like twenty years ago. She then decided to get lost in the crowded streets just like she got lost in the forest twenty years ago. She prayed that Ritav could be replaced by herself just like she asked the mysterious woman to bring back Julian and end her immortality twenty years ago.

But as proven by human history, there was a major difference between the first time and the second. Marie truly learnt a lesson in the second time. She had decided not to involve herself in any passionate relationship. For a person like her, tying herself with another person was tying with a knife that would suddenly cut through her heart, leaving a hole that could never be filled again.

Nevertheless, Marie still worked blindly just as she lived blindly. She continued to sleep with one man after another without a particular reason. But she was often losing her concentration such that she could barely hold her breath mentally and was absorbing the life of the thrilled men unrestrainedly. They kissed and touched the deathly girl with fervent but temporary love, whispering juicy words to her ears, yet without having a single idea about the rapid corrosion of their precious health.

Unable to concentrate on holding her breath mentally, Marie tried to practice the seemingly easy way that Ritav had taught her in that distant summer day to dissolve her own consciousness. But as she closed her eyes, she could barely imagine that she was as free as the wind and as fluid as the water. Instead, Ritav's piercing scream, the deep red bed sheets and the final stare of Ritav at the oil lamp from the ceiling all bombarded Marie's mind when she closed her eyes.

Ritav's disappearance not only brought lethargy to Marie, but also to the inn. The absence of a gracious and energetic young woman who was the center of attention was rather obvious to Sandra the procuress and the other young women in the inn. The news of a tragic maternal death of a gorgeous young woman called Ritav also spread across every street in the town, becoming a topic for after-dinner conversations.

But this piece of news was soon forgotten by the people as a sinister plague hit this densely populated town. In one of the packed houses where people lived side by side with rodents and insects, a few men became the earliest victims of this horrible plague. They had nauseating swelling and red spots in their armpits and groins; their toes and fingers were rotten into a disgusting black color; they then started to have high fever. While most of the other people in that big cramped house were still unaware of the severity of such sickness, those few men started to vomit blood badly and were twisting painfully on their beds.

People in that house finally realized that a plague had come when three more men started to have such nauseating swelling and spots. Physicians, who were very insufficient in this densely populated town, were called to the house. They studied the unfortunate men briefly and confirmed that a dangerous plague had arrived. They told the people to put all the infected men into separate beds in a single big room. All people, except a few caretakers, were not allowed to get inside that dangerous room. Unfortunately, the malicious plague had already found a way to sneak outside the house before the physicians arrived. Some apparently normal men, who had been infected by that deadly disease, moved out from the house and visited other corners of the town.

In the next few weeks, the plague reached the doors of some of the most regular people in the town. It passed through every shop in the market. It reached the bed of a newly married young couple where they made passionate love together; it reached the hard rocking chair where an old woman who had just visited the crowded market sat tiredly; it reached the piece of rug where children took a nap after hearing some fairytales told by their mothers.

At first, people were only concerned and worried, but still maintained their rationality and sympathy. The healthy ones tried their best to take care of the sick ones and relieve their agony. Families gathered together and prayed for the sick ones from each family. Unfortunately, the sinister plague soon exposed the weakness of human hearts. The rationality and sympathy from most people in the town soon evaporated as the sinister plague continued to spread.

Certain owners of houses and inns could no longer tolerate the horrible swelling and spots from the sick ones and started to throw the plague victims out to the streets. These unfortunate victims started to lie on the corners of the streets, vomiting blood on the dirty pavement. They often begged for water with a weak voice. But most of the time not a single drop of water would come as all pedestrians were driven by pure fear. Most of the pedestrians would immediately run away from the plague victims and refuse to talk with the victims for a single second.

Without water and food, many of these victims actually died on the streets due to hunger and thirst before the disease totally consumed them. A horrible smell came as victims' corpses were left unattended in the humid spring times. The once crowded town where thousands of people flooded the markets and streets had now officially become a dead town. Nine out of ten shops were closed; no more craftsmen or merchants would come to this town. Most of the residents shut their doors and windows tightly; they lowered the curtains and imprisoned themselves in the dark rooms. A very small minority of residents in the town retained their rationality and bravery. They used some cloth to cover their mouths and noses and carefully moved the completely unappealing corpses on the streets away from the town and burnt them. They poured water on the dirty pavement and fetid street corners. They checked the abandoned houses and marked a cross on the doors of those houses.

But just as a minority of residents were motivated by rationality, another minority of residents were driven by senselessness and recklessness. They tried desperately to find out who was the inexcusable culprit of the plague. They were very confident that there must be someone to blame for this sinister plague. They blamed the sole survivors in families that were destroyed by the plague; they blamed the forlorn ones who had awkward behaviors that deviated from the crowd; they blamed the unusual ones who had a different skin color and facial features from them. They reported these abnormal individuals to the authority, hoping that the authority could interrogate and eliminate the culprits. These reckless and presumptuous people spread a new layer of fear across the town on top of the unavoidable fear of the plague.

The rational ones who were still cleaning the streets desperately tried to stop this unnecessary folly and madness. They tried to tell the apathetic majority not to be instigated. Unfortunately, they themselves were being drawn into this madness as the presumptuous people would not allow any dissent. The ones who defended the suspicious culprits were immediately being judged as culprits themselves. So ultimately even the most rational ones decided to join the apathetic self-preserving majority and dared not to intervene again.

Marie was originally one insignificant girl among the apathetic majority during the plague. Just like other young women in the inn, she closed the windows and lowered the curtains, ignoring all kinds of noises and smells outside the inn. The plague had greatly reduced the number of customers in the inn. Yet a few men, who truly upheld 'carpe diem' as their motto, still visited the inn and desired to sleep with women amid the dangerous days.

Most of the other young women would not oblige those men even those men offered them three times the normal price. Knowing that the curse of immortality would prevent her from being harmed or killed by this dangerous plague, Marie willingly slept with these men. The apparently sixteen year old girl did not love these men in any possible way. She just desired to do something that could completely exhaust herself and occupy every long evening such that she could stop thinking about what would happen if she was in the southern coast with Ritav.

Yet, Marie barely knew that after the tenth night of meaningless sex, the plague had reached her body too. One of the 'carpe diem' men had brought the dangerous disease to her unknowingly. While the disease was deep inside her body for a while, Marie did not have any spots or swelling; she did not have high fever or soaring pain in her throat. Instead, she just felt unexceptionally tired and was unable to concentrate at any time of the day. The curse of immortality had once again transformed the serious sickness into mental lethargy that would inevitably drag away all the available spirits around.

Marie became so exhausted and inattentive that she could barely control her behavior. For the next few days when the deadly disease was still in her body, she simply lost her consciousness in her bed after the repetitive sex that she herself was not conscious about. The 'carpe diem' men hugged the apparently sixteen year old girl tightly, whispered "you're my angel" to the unconscious girl's ears and fell asleep with her throughout the long night. But the very sweet angel who was lying motionlessly was actually draining the men's spirit horrendously; the deadly disease also spread to their skin as they hugged and kissed her unrestrainedly.

Just one or two days after those 'carpe diem' men left Marie's room contentedly, they found disgusting spots and swellings throughout their bodies. They had high fever and were twisting painfully. As their spirits were also severely drawn, they died as quickly as a butterfly and did not even have time to think about why they were killed.

Through such devastating but natural process, Marie was slowly recovering and became the first and only person that could recover from that deadly disease. She had regained her concentration to witness every client coming and leaving her room. She would carefully tiptoe out from the inn at midnight, walking across the completely deserted streets...Only the nature was always the same.

***

One evening, shortly after Marie had regained her health, three men who wore tall hats and held swords stormed into the inn. These three men who worked for the authority ignored the words from Sandra the procuress and knocked down the door of every room pugnaciously. They broke into Marie's room and dragged the apparently sixteen year old girl who was lying in her bed out of the room. One of the violent men read loudly from a piece of paper, "In the name of the Church and the authority of the town, you are accused of witchcraft and shall be taken to immediate interrogation." Sandra the procuress and other young women of the inn were terrified but still attempted to intervene. "How was this possible? You must have found the wrong person," Sandra said. Another young woman, who tried to grab Marie back, shouted desperately, "I know her. She is Marie. She could not be a witch!"

But Marie did not struggle or defend herself; she understood perfectly why she was accused. Her hands were chained and she was pushed into cage behind a horse cart but she did not resist in the slightest. Her decision of not struggling did not imply that she was not afraid. Instead, fear penetrated into every blood vessel and every bone in her body. She did not scream, nor did she cry. Yet through the cage, one could witness pure fear from the girl's eyes. The eyes reflected the vulnerability of an individual when facing the brutality of the mass.

They brought Marie into an old brick house. Viewing from outside, the house was not big at all. But under the house was a large dungeon where dozens of the accused were imprisoned and interrogated. Marie had to walk through a narrow corridor. It was completely dark and Marie could not see anything except for the torch held by one of the men. She was thrown into a tiny cell, where the darkness intensified Marie's fear. She used her cold hands to touch her surroundings. She could touch the hard solid stone wall on her two sides and behind her without moving. She could feel the cold metal bars in front of her. Apart from that, there was nothing else.

Her vision slowly adapted to the darkness and Marie could obscurely see other small cells but not any other prisoners. Nevertheless, she knew she was not the only one. Moaning, groaning and weeping sounds echoed within the stone walls from time to time. But other than that, there were no one speaking. Disturbing noises of metal chains hitting each other and the threatening sounds of heavy footsteps of the guards came to Marie's ears occasionally. Lying beside the stone wall, Marie had nothing but time. However, not many thoughts were developed in her mind despite the abundance of time. Instead, her mind was always dominated by terror. She was starving but she was only given a bowl of water for the whole time. Finally, her fear and hunger gradually extinguished as drowsiness consumed her and she lost her consciousness.

A loud piercing scream woke Marie up. Marie regained her consciousness as screams of agony echoed. The screaming came from another end of the corridor quite far away from Marie's cell. But it was still so loud and clear that Marie wanted to cover her ears to escape from the terror. Yet, her hands were chained and she was forced to hear all these distressing noises. Marie did not know how long the screaming lasted but those terrifying noises eventually faded away and she drifted into unconsciousness again.

The metal gate of her tiny cell was opened abruptly and Marie awakened immediately. A man who was holding a torch grabbed Marie up forcefully. A second man grabbed Marie's another arm tightly. The two men dragged her along the narrow corridor. Terror was instantly restored to Marie's mind to the greatest extent. She was brought into a large chamber. It was much brighter than Marie's cell as there were torches on the wall to illuminate the chamber. Marie was chained to a wooden chair. A desk was set opposite to the chair and two men sat at the desk.

"You are accused of witchcraft and colluding with the devil. The devil had instructed you to spread this evil plague to our people and bring suffering upon us in the most sinister way," one of the men at the desk spoke. He continued by saying that there were multiple witnesses who reported that she often wandered to the forest suspiciously at midnight and there were concrete pieces of evidence proving that she purposefully brought the disease to a few men by seducing them, causing their painful death.

But Marie paid the least attention to what the man was saying. Her focus was led to her surroundings, which were utterly terrifying. There was a man being chained to a chair on her left. His eyes were closed as he was unconscious. There was a device locking his head and another device that was restraining his waist such that he was completely immobile. His mouth, chin and neck were all covered with dark red blood. On her right was a woman being hanged in the air; the woman's arms were fastened behind her head and tied to the ceiling, causing all her joints to dislocate. Heavy stones were tied to her feet, adding weight to her body and causing excruciating pain. The woman lowered her head to her chest as she was unconscious but Marie could still hear the woman's moaning and difficult breathing.

Marie decided to stop looking at the devices around the chamber and stared at the floor. She could not stop shivering. The terror brought chilliness to her; her bare feet touched the bitter stone floor, adding further coldness to her body. "Do you confess your sin?" the man at the desk asked dauntingly. Marie nodded her head anxiously and repeatedly. Ever since she was dragged into this dark dungeon below the old brick house, she had decided to confess anything, irrespective of the truth, to save herself from pain and terror. She knew so clearly that pain was far more horrible than death and dignity was just a meaningless word when facing a sea of suffering. "Do you confess for colluding with the devil in bringing calamity to this town?" Marie nodded without hesitation once again. The two men at the desk asked a series of questions and Marie nodded immediately after each question since she was too terrified to speak.

But such unconditional submission did not prevent Marie from the unavoidable suffering. "Who are your accomplices? Who also practices witchcraft with you to bring suffering upon this town?" the interrogator at the desk asked this thorny question. Marie hesitated. She did not know how to answer. "No others. It's just me," she answered nervously and continued to shiver. "Liar!" the interrogator shouted. "I ask once again. Who are your accomplices? Or I shall make you suffer and talk," the interrogator said menacingly. "No no. It's just me! It's just me," Marie said anxiously. "Put her on the rack and make her talk!" the interrogator shouted. Two men dragged Marie on a rack; Marie tried to struggle but terror had made her body completely powerless. Both her thin wrists and ankles were chained to two rollers at the two ends of the rack; her arms and legs were pulled straight, causing her body to be straightened up and utterly immobile.

Marie was so scared that urine started to come out from her lower body as she could not control her body anymore. "Who are your accomplices?" the interrogator asked once again. Marie did not answer; instead, she could only beg by saying "no" repeatedly. A man rolled the roller at the end of the rack, pulling her legs forcefully. Marie felt that every muscle and ligament in her body was being torn. She gasped and water came out from her eyes. "Speak or suffer!" Unfortunately, Marie was too terrified and agonized to think of anything to speak. The roller at the end of the rack rotated again and another man also moved the roller at the front of the rack at the same time. This time Marie felt that all tissues in her body were being ripped apart; her wrists and ankles were hurt by the tight chains and blood was flowing out. She let out a loud groan that echoed across the chamber; cold sweat surged through her skin.

Marie gasped and finally spoke, "Yes, yes. There were many accomplices." She stuttered fearfully, "Gerhard ...Ingrid...Alder...Beck...Klaus...Gudrun...Hartmann...Hanne ..." She came up with a random combination of surnames and first names that just came to her mind. Most of them were the names of the neighbours whom she met on the streets or men she had once slept with. She however subconsciously avoided naming anyone close to her or any woman who worked in the inn. "You are making things up! Confess!" the interrogator shouted.

Marie denied desperately and begged for mercy. The interrogator ignored her pleading. He picked up a wooden stick which had a piece of burning red hot iron attached to its end, placed it above Marie's body and stamped it firmly on her torso. Marie let out a long piercing scream as a red burning scar appeared below her neck. She screamed for a few more times until she finally replied feebly, "I will tell the truth." Despite facing excruciating pain, Marie tried her best to stammer her story of obtaining immortality and the need of draining life by using the simplest words.

The interrogator finally lost his patience. "Blasphemy! How could witchcraft grant you immortality? Only God could bring us eternal life!" he said furiously. Marie was desperate; she did not know what to say. The interrogator held a sharp dagger in his hand and moved menacingly towards Marie. He held the dagger closely above Marie's face and spoke, "You know what is the punishment for blasphemers and liars? Is to cut out your tongue so that you cannot speak again, just like this liar there," he pointed towards the unconscious man who was chained to the chair. Marie tried desperately to struggle by turning her head but the interrogator grabbed her head and forced open her mouth. The interrogator lowered the dagger slowly and suddenly stabbed it hardly on the wooden rack just near to Marie's face. Marie's body longer belonged to herself as terror had totally consumed it; her jaw was shaking and she urinated uncontrollably again.

Yet fear, living beings' most primitive feeling, was essential to one's mind in such extreme circumstances. Fear had forced Marie to make up a story that could finally convince the interrogator. "Ritav, my closest friend...was the one...the one who led me to witchcraft. She told me to go to the forest at midnight to chant spells and curses...we told others that we were having a trip to the north...but...but in fact we were meeting the devil and plotting to bring a plague to the town..." Water came out from Marie's eyes; she could not believe what fear and pain had made her just said. She had avoided naming most of the people she really knew but she had betrayed her closest friend.

The interrogator was much more convinced; he knew who Ritav was and how she had died as it was a well-known story across the town. "Are her death and miscarriage related to witchcraft?" he asked. Marie hesitated as she was still regretting her words while the interrogator signaled the men to moved the two rollers on the rack again, adding another level to her excruciating pain. Marie groaned loudly; terror and pain forced her to utter regrettable words again, "She...ahhh...her...her child was an offspring from the devil...ahhh...Her miscarriage was a punishment from God..."

After a few more times of intimidation and torture, Marie had finally fabricated a complete story about Ritav. She was released from the rack and dragged back to her cell. She could not walk or stand since nearly all of her ligaments and tendons had broken. She lay on the cold floor, twisting in agony while regretting the deplorable words that she had said. She tried to convince herself that Ritav was already dead and no harm could be done to her but she could never justify the betrayal. She finally lost her consciousness while her subconscious was desperately drawing the limited life force around her by stretching as far as possible to heal her severe wounds.

***

It was a dry and airless afternoon. The plague had gradually diminished after it took the lives of hundreds of people in the town. Just like before the plague, people crowded in the markets and streets; shops were reopened and money was exchanged. Dozens of people gathered in the town square. For these few days, executions had been carried out every afternoon. Men and women charged with witchcraft or blasphemy were executed, either by hanging or burning.

Tons of firewood were gathered at the center of the square; a small wooden stage was in the middle of the firewood; a stake was on the small wooden stage. Marie was tied at the stake firmly by thick ropes, and the firewood piled up nearly to her waist. In the past few days, she cooperated submissively in everything even though she could barely stand up or walk. Sometime after the interrogation, she was dragged to the first floor of the old brick house to be officially tried. The chief inquisitor read out a long text documenting the confession of Marie.

Marie listened inattentively and nodded whenever she needed to. She signed her name in the document even though she barely knew how to write her name. The severe torture had not just broken her physically, but also mentally. Her physical injury could be gradually healed by the spell of immortality but her psychological trauma could never be truly cured. She no longer had the will to say or do anything other than what was imposed on her. She accepted her fate without doubt and did not ponder whether she would die or not since she no longer had the capacity to think about the future.

A handful of people, including the chief inquisitor, the town bishop and other authorities sat opposite to the stake where Marie was tied. A line of guards stood behind them to separate the execution site from the crowd. Marie gazed upon the crowd; there were men, women and children; there were angry, sympathetic and curious eyes. But Marie did not care much about those eyes. She did not think about whether she would really die or not, nor did she imagine about what would happen to her if she would really die. Her traumatized mind just led her to think about the pain that the fire was going to bring to her; fear of pain, the most primitive feeling, had once again dominated her.

"In the name of God, you are condemned of practicing witchcraft, colluding with evil spirits and bringing the plague to the town. Due to the severity of your crime, you shall be condemned to death by burning at stake. May your soul be forgiven," the chief inquisitor stated clearly. Two executioners came fourth and lit up the fire woods. The fire grew quickly; intense smoke clouded around Marie and made her choke painfully. The fire had spread to her legs; Marie screamed with agony while the skin of her legs turned into red and then to black.

Just at this very moment when everyone thought that the girl was going to have an agonizing death, the two executioners closest to the intense fire began to cry with pain and fell to the ground. They were twisting with pain and struggling for life like dying insects on the ground. The people shouted with horror but they did not leave as what was happening was too shocking to stop watching. "Stop her! She was using evil sorcery!" shouted the chief inquisitor anxiously. But just after he had finished the sentence, he also felt great pain surging in his whole body as if all of his organs were being damaged at the same time. He shrieked painfully as he kneeled down, finding the bishop and other officials beside him also yelling for help painfully.

Marie felt the fire as if thousands of knives were stabbing her legs and thighs. She continued to scream with agony; but at the same time, she felt that her body was gaining strength rapidly. The unusual strength caused her to break the ropes; she stumbled and fell to the ground in front of the intense fire. The crowd started to panic as the row of officials at the front were all shrieking painfully and struggling on the ground. An invisible but intense deadly aura started to sweep across the town square as the cursed girl was struggling to stand up from the ground.

Unfortunately, the people did not learn the lesson and failed to realize the power of the ancient curse controlling the girl. The chief guardsman ordered all the guards to come forward. Five guards stepped forward nervously; they encircled the cursed girl; they held their pikes and pointed towards her. None of the guards dared to stab her as they were terrified about the consequences. The cursed girl finally stood up; terror was her only emotion. She screamed madly and restlessly, "Leave me alone!" and eyed all the guards terrifyingly.

"Destroy the witch!" shouted the chief guardsman. The five guards aimed at the cursed girl and stabbed her body at the same time. She shrieked in pain and fell down as the guards withdrew their weapons. Just at the moment when the guards were studying the motionless girl seconds after they had withdrawn their weapons, they screamed and dropped their weapons as they felt that their organs were being torn apart. They struggled and fell to the ground as if there was an invisible hand murdering them instantly.

Seeing the horror before him, the chief guardsman dropped his weapon and ran like a defeated soldier in a battlefield. The crowd dispersed as everyone tried to escape the devastating curse in all directions. Though nothing could be observed by natural human senses, even the most insensitive person in the town square could sense that a destructive force was stretching in all directions to absorb life. The girl, who lay on the ground with bleeding wounds all over her body, stared at the grey sky and was subconsciously fetching all the life force from the surroundings rapidly. She could not stop it just like a drowning person could not stop struggling to get out of the water surface, just like a starving lion could not stop catching its prey. It was instinct; it was survival; it was life.

The panic spread. People escaping from the town square yelled about the terrifying event at the streets. People rushed back to their houses and locked their doors. Within the next few days, terror went through doors of every house just as the plague did so a few weeks ago. Travelers and merchants left once again as they believed that no business could be done in this cursed town. The officials and guardsmen abandoned their positions and fled, leaving the town into anarchy.

In the evening after the disastrous execution in the town square, the girl rose up from the ground; the empty square came into her distorted vision. Her wounds were being healed rapidly. Behind her, an intense fire was still burning. She walked unsteadily just like a toddling new born creature. She dared not to look at the corpses scattered across the town square and she stepped carefully over them. Nevertheless, she picked up a black cloak from one of the dead guards and covered herself with it.

She walked across the empty streets like a dark shadow. She did not go back to the inn where she used to work. Instead, she arrived at the cemetery behind the graveyard where her closest friend had been buried. The girl was going to kneel in front of her closest friend's grave but she discovered that the burial site of her closest friend had been dug up. The coffin had been moved away. The grave in front of her had been vandalized; a big cross was marked by red paint, covering the name of her closest friend; some wicked words that the girl could not understand were written with red paint. The girl cried, for the last time. She would not cry again until many years later. She somehow wished that she could lie inside the dug up site motionlessly, covered by piles of mud and slowly devoured by worms until her bones turned into ashes. But it was always only a thought. She did not do so nor could she do so as she was a living being driven by instincts.

***

Eventually, she left the town once and for all. The word trauma was way too mild to describe what was in the girl's mind. However, she did not become hysterical or mad. Instead, just like the days after her closest friend had died, she gradually descended into the numbness of life. She tried to live without thinking. She walked miles and miles to faraway towns, without paying attention to the meaning of places. As she settled in new places, she learnt new languages to converse with the locals, but without intending to understand the hearts of people.

Throughout the years, she took all kinds of jobs, from a minor performer in a travelling circus, to a lowly servant girl in a wealthy landlord house, to a solitary spinner spinning endless yarn in a tiny textile workshop. Just like most people around her, her life became a routine monotony. She did the same work every day and wandered to the woods or the grasslands to recuperate every night. But the girl discovered that she was not the only one living that way. Nearly all people, the arrogant tax collector, the humble peasant, the strong soldier, the weak beggar, did the same thing again and again for thousands of times. It was from this monotonous routine that numbness and emptiness crept out as most people had become more of a machine and less of a free spirit. The only difference between the girl and most people was that the monotonous routine would eventually end for the latter, but might roll on endlessly for the former.

Occasionally, the girl's thoughts might lead her away from the monotonous routine. The precious nostalgic memories would urge her to run away from her workplace overnight to the forest in which she used to play years ago. The distressing painful memories would force her to escape from the settlements and towns to anywhere without humans. She would sit alone in an abandoned ancient Roman amphitheater where thousands of spectators used to be more than a thousand years ago. Or she would lie at the hillside beside the forest, overlooking the tranquil lake in the forest miles away. But in either way, she was awaiting an echo, an echo that could unlock and touch the deepest part of her mind.
Part Three

It was another typical dinner at that long table. Raul Leonel Fernandez de Castillo was sitting at the seat that he had been designated to sit on for the last ten years or so. The clinking sounds of glasses, plates, metal knives and forks were just as routine and meaningless as the conversation at the table. Fifteen human beings, men and women, old and young, loud and quiet, were bound to sit at that long table together. The conversation constituted of utterly predictable questions and answers as if they were a cast reciting a drama script which had been performed a thousand times.

Enrique Lopez Fernandez de Castillo, Raul's uncle, sat at the head of the long table. Enrique Lopez was an influential high nobleman in Valencia. He was also a wealthy landowner and merchant. Nearly everyone in Valencia showed deference to him. But Raul was not amongst them.

"So how was your day, Simone?" Enrique asked in a seemingly casual but actually deeply serious manner as he only expected Simone to give a somewhat predetermined answer. Simone, who was Enrique's second son, looked at his father and spoke clearly, "I visited the Dias family this afternoon. They seemed to be quite happy about our trade terms on the spice. We can expect more than a thousand Libras of silver annually for the trade."

Enrique gave a satisfying nod, took a sip of the red wine, shook the glass gently and turned his gaze to Rafael, "How about you, Rafael?" Rafael, who was Enrique's third son, bit his lips nervously and spoke not as confidently as Simone did, "I followed Simone to...to the Dias family."

"Did you also negotiate with them or just let Simone do all the work?" Rafael shook his head nervously. "Hmm...You are the younger one but I expect the same from all of my sons. You should really learn from your brother."

"And you, young man. Still writing poetry?" Enrique asked Raul seemingly causally. Raul's father Luis Miguel Fernandez de Castillo and Raul's mother Petra both lowered their forks and looked at Raul worriedly. Raul's elder sister Alejandra also put down her glass and looked at Raul with genuine concern. Raul looked at his plate without having any eye contact with Enrique and spoke softly, "No. Just resting."

"Why? Our big poet has run of ideas? Or were there no beautiful ladies to inspire our big poet?" Enrique asked slightly tauntingly. The other people at the table, including Raul's father and mother, laughed so as to relieve the tense atmosphere at the table.

Raul did not raise his head and replied monotonously "No. I don't have the mood to write. The weather is too hot for that." "Raul, look at your uncle while you are talking," his mother Petra said. Enrique laughed loudly and other people at the table except Raul also laughed. Enrique said, "Too hot for that! Ha. Then, I guess you won't be writing anything this summer." He ate some of the delicacies on the plate slowly and continued, "Have you ever thought of doing other things else? You could probably follow my sons to do the spice trade." "No," Raul replied bluntly.

Petra looked at Raul with concern and said, "Raul, your uncle is very right. You should find something to do just like your cousins and brothers." Raul still refused to raise his head and said, "I am not interested. And did you not say that I should rest more because of my heart problem?" Petra rolled her eyes and said impatiently, "You should work too. Your younger brother is travelling in Cuba and Panama, seeking all kinds of opportunities, while you are just idling your precious time away. You are going to be twenty-one years old." Petra turned to Raul's father Luis Miguel and asked, "Don't you agree, Luis? Raul should really do something."

Luis Miguel put down his glass and replied as if he was reciting a script, "Of course. Raul, you need to take some responsibility as an adult." Raul finally raised his head and said, "Then may I ask what you have done today, father and mother?" Petra lost her patience and said, "We are talking about you. Your father already knew three or four kinds of trade at your age and you know none. Everyone at this table is doing something except you, Raul."

Enrique laughed and interrupted, "Petra dear, do not get angry. Raul will know what he should be doing." Just as everyone thought that the tense conversation upon Raul was over, the usually passive and reticent young man spoke up, "I know what I am doing. I am a poet. And no one at this table is actually working. You just pretend to be working or think that you are working. The people who really work are the servants behind us, the cooks in the kitchen, the farmers who plant and the workers who build. The horses that pull the cart and the cows that plow the earth have much more contribution than any of us at the table. And yet, you people put their meat on the table."

Before any of the diners at the table could react, Raul stood up and left the table. Petra spoke angrily "Raul! Where are your manners?" "Sit down! And apologize!" Luis Miguel shouted. But Raul was not intimidated at all. He had had enough of everything related to the table. The conversation that he had never been interested in, the roast pork and beef that he would never touch and the little puppets of Enrique that could not say anything other than performing dialogues from a script all disgusted him to the point that he could vomit. Alejandra followed Raul and held his arm. She tried to calm Raul down but he struggled his arm away from her. "Let him go. Just let him go. We don't need a narcissistic poet at this table," Enrique said and laughed again.

Raul walked pass the long hallway as he wished to get away from that table as far as possible. Heads of bulls were hanged neatly on the wall as trophies after they were killed by toreros. There were also heads of deer that had been proudly hunted by Enrique. Despite walking swiftly along the corridor, Raul could not stop thinking about the solemn eyes of the bulls and deer that were fixating on every human being passing the corridor. Such solemn eyes always imposed a strong feeling of guilt on Raul's mind, making Raul realize that humans were the most cowardly and disgusting beings.

Raul recalled once again the time when he was taken to watch a bullfighting game. He was about fifteen years old. The arena was packed with people. Men and women from all backgrounds cheered enthusiastically as a line of toreros who dressed in vivid colors entered the circular sand pitch. Raul disliked noisy crowds; he tried to distract himself from the annoyance by paying attention to the entrance music played by trumpets and drums.

A bull came out to the center of the pitch. A duel in which the victor was firmly determined beforehand finally began. A torero who wore a black hat, shiny golden short jacket, rigid tights and long pink socks walked proudly to the center of the pitch. People cheered as he drew out a large piece of pink cloth, showing it to the bull to taunt it. The bull knew it was a trap but insisted to rush towards the torero to demonstrate its anger and valor. As the bull was going to crush the torero with its horns, the torero sidestepped elegantly and gained huge cheers from the crowd. The torero saluted in an exaggerated manner as the crowd cheered. Raul was completely uninterested in such self-perceived heroism and decided to pay attention to the bull instead of that predetermined champion.

The taunting and sidesteps repeated a few times until the torero suddenly pulled out a long dart which was as flamboyant as his clothes and stabbed it viciously on the bull's back. The bull gave a low howl and blood started welling up through its thick skin while the crowd gave another roar of cheers to the vicious stabber. Raul could not believe what he had just seen and, more importantly, he could not understand why the hundreds of people around him reacted in such a way. The taunting and stabbing continued for nearly half an hour. Half a dozen of sharp darts were already stabbed on its back, which had become purely red. Raul was furious and confused at the same time; he held his fist firmly but no one around him seemed to realize his anger as they were too excited about the torero's professional and elegant way of torture.

The torero took a rest but the bull was not given one. Another torero came up and continued the slow murder. He used a sword rather than long darts. He taunted, sidestepped and stabbed repeatedly. The bull became slow as blood covered its whole body. But it insisted to attack whenever the pink cloth was waved. Just like Raul, the bull was driven by principles; it would continue to rush towards the torero no matter how slow its movement or how red its body had become until its final breath. Raul closely observed the final valor of the bull and the pain that it was enduring. Finally, as it was rushing slowly towards its murderer for the last time, the torero gave a stab to its abdomen. The bull gave a low but loud howl and collapsed.

The whole crowd applauded and whistled as the two elegant torturers bowed and the bull was pulled away. Then, the whole thing repeated itself as a second bull was forced to the centre of the sand pitch. The crowd seemed never to be bored by the repetitive sidesteps, taunts and stabbing. They were never tired of cheering. But just as this confident torero was going to taunt the bull for the seventeenth time, the bull dashed towards the torero in an unpredictably high speed. The torero was going to sidestep but he was way too late; he was knocked by the horns and his whole body flew in the air. Just at the moment he landed on the ground embarrassingly, the bull dashed towards him again. He was knocked over again by the bull's strong legs. The bull then just kept pushing him with its legs and horns as if the torero was a piece of rolling tree trunk.

The crowd did not cheer for or applaud the bull. Instead, they screamed with fear. Hundreds of men and women were traumatized by what they had seen. But once again, the fifteen-year-old Raul barely shared the crowd's sentiments; amid the screams around him, Raul felt joy and found amusement for the first time that day. A smile appeared on Raul's face as the torero rolled across the sand pitch. But the smile soon faded away as a few men who were riding horses and holding long spears in their hands rushed towards the arena. They used their long spears against the bull and forced it away from the rolling torero. The seriously injured torero was safely escorted from the pitch while the temporarily victorious bull was repeatedly stabbed by those long spears. And at that very moment, Raul finally concluded that human beings should never be defined by intelligence, but pure cowardice.

_______

Humans' cowardice and hypocrisy clouded Raul's mind as usual until he finally reached his own room after the early departure from the dinner table. He lay on his bed, recalling the conversation that he very much disliked at the dinner table shortly before. "Shit, utterly shit, pure garbage, fuck that pure garbage," he tried to release his anger through words. But that was not enough; he picked up a piece of metal ornament on his desk and smashed it on the wall, causing a visible crack on the wall. He did that a few more times until he finally sat beside his desk. He picked up one of his many books and started to read but he could barely go through the first few lines. Even words, his usual serene friends, could hardly soothe his anger and his confused mind.

He brought down his most precious book from the shelf. It was a medium-sized book with a beautifully designed silver cover. He flipped through the pages mindlessly; the pages were occupied by poems that he had written throughout the years. Some of his poems were long and structured ones which told stories; some of them were describing memorable scenes that had inspired him; many others were just little sketches that channeled his ever changing feelings and thoughts. Raul just continued flipping the pages unintentionally.

"Everything is made up of liquid,

And we are tiny droplets,

Insignificant but fluid,

Tiny droplets merge and drift away,

Within seconds but without trace,

It is sad but we never slow down the pace."

It was a poem that he wrote long ago when he was still a child. It was probably inspired by a childhood friend whose name he could not even remember. He was about eleven when he met that friend whose name had vanished but whose face remained. Raul and his direct family went to Malaga as Luis Miguel had to establish a trade there. A boy about the same age as Raul with slightly darker skin and big black eyes caught the attention of Raul. That boy was drawing interesting patterns on the sand. Raul demonstrated his curiosity and simply joined that boy in drawing all kinds of interesting patterns by using a tree branch.

For hours, the two boys barely talked and just drew. They did not introduce each other's names or origins, nor did they shake hands as the adults did. The next day, while Luis Miguel was busy bargaining with abundant hand gestures, Raul just went to the same place again and found that the boy was still there. They talked more despite they had very different accents. Raul spoke about how big his family was but he could rarely find a person who he could talk with. The boy talked about how big the world was and that there were actually a lot of people who he could talk with. He drew the map of Mediterranean, including all the countries around the sea. He talked about the immense desert that spread across North Africa. He talked about how he was born there and how he grew up there. It was a fascinating story for Raul.

For the next few days, they just talked and drew. They occasionally climbed up the ancient fortresses or went to the beach to throw pebbles to the sea. On the sixth day, Raul had to leave Malaga. Raul knew that he had to leave all the time but when his mother told him to pack everything back to their family's boat, it felt so sudden. He did not go back to the usual place to say any parting words. He felt as if he was escaping from the boy.

Petra seemed to realize his son's melancholy and reluctance to move. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Aren't you excited? We are sailing to Almeria, and then Alicante. They are very beautiful places too, maybe even better than Malaga. Your father may even take us to Barcelona up in the north. I always want to have a look at that city. Isn't it great?" Petra tried to cheer her son up. Raul did not answer and slowly packed his things up to the boat. As the boat slowly left the port, Raul dared not to turn his head to look at the coast of Malaga again, fearing that his friend would be standing at the port and looking him leaving.

________

And that poem which Raul randomly came across just now was written at a night two years after his departure from Malaga; he could barely fall asleep that night; the memories about the nameless boy in Malaga kept bothering him. Tolerating his severe heartache, he wrote that short poem.

Flipping the pages once again, he passed through the early pages of the book and went into the middle ones. Some of the most beautiful poems that he had written were all around this part of the book and they were all about this same subject - love. Raul lay on his side on his bed while putting the book on his left and read it closely as if the book was his lover.

"Yellow flowers and fresh air,

They remind me about you.

Orange sunset and pure water,

They were always here for you.

Summer snow and winter breeze,

Nothing besides love is true.

Tiny houses and giant cities,

The world is not enough for us two."

Raul first met her about two years ago when he was eighteen. It was a cool comfortable autumn day. He had finished the private lesson at the study and went out to the garden to have a walk. She was there, sweeping the fallen leafs at the corner of that big garden. She wore a white baroque tabard tunic which was often worn by young female servants in the mansion.

Raul tried to pretend that everything was perfectly normal despite being instantly attracted by her. He walked slowly towards the corner where she was sweeping and kept his head down. He feigned that he was just having a directionless walk with deep thoughts in his mind. He then secretly raised his head to have a quick look as he was getting closer. She had dark brown and slightly curly long hair. As Raul was getting closer and prepared to look at her face, she looked away from the fallen leaves and gazed at Raul directly. A pair of clear blue eyes looked into Raul's eyes and Raul felt as if his mind was being instantly read; the pale pink lips were motionless but thousands of meanings could be coming out from them. The contact did not last for even a second. Yet, that half a second brought completely new passion to Raul's heart that Raul had been lacking for days, weeks or even months. Raul's stringent upbringing quickly suppressed such new passion; he tried his best to turn away naturally and continued his fake directionless walk.

For the next few days, nothing other than the girl mattered to Raul. He would wake up exceptionally early, looking at the backyard through the window and hoping that she could be somehow idling in the backyard. He could not pay attention and spoke quite poorly in his private French class despite the fact that he was fluent in French. He could finally completely ignore the conversation at the dinner table that he had been wishing to ignore for years. Though Raul did not have a lot of chances to meet a lot of new girls during his adolescence, he had indeed seen some very attractive girls before. And objectively speaking, Raul had seen girls that were more beautiful than her before. But from that half a second in which the clear blue eyes met Raul's heart, Raul strongly believed that love was not just about beauty and that he was deeply in love.

In the afternoon, Raul could see her at a distance in the garden. But he was holding himself back from proceeding. He would retreat to the terrace and sit down as his heartache had intensified a lot during those few days. Finally, after four such days, Sunday came. Nearly all people living in the mansion, old and young, men and women, would visit the cathedral in the early morning and spend the whole day there until late afternoon. Despite Petra's repeated nagging that consisted of both persuasion and intimidation, Raul would never come out from his bedroom on Sunday mornings since he was thirteen years old.

In that late Sunday morning when everyone was sitting tightly together in the cathedral, Raul had a casual walk in the empty garden since even most of the servants and gardeners were in the cathedral or other chapels. And to Raul's surprise, there she was again. Yet she was sitting alone in the terrace where Raul had been sitting with his heartache most of the time in the past few days. Raul knew that she could see him. He understood that if he turned away again and pretended to walk aimlessly in this empty big garden, he would be destined to descend further into the labyrinth of loneliness. He walked towards the terrace determinedly. She could see him coming. Raul stopped in front of her. The same long curly brown hair, blue eyes and pale pink lips that Raul had been imagining for the past few days came into his eyes again. Through her eyes and lips, Raul could also find friendliness or at least he hoped that he had found friendliness. Raul did not bow or greet; he simply sat beside her.

"Sir, you need anything?" the girl asked; she spoke in Spanish with a Catalan accent. Raul could have said, "I need you" and held the girl's hand. But his strict upbringing from his boring parents had suppressed such impulsion safely.

"No, nothing. What is your name?" Raul picked up his courage and asked.

"Ivanna, sir."

"Nice to meet you, Ivanna. How long have you been here?"

"I have been in Valencia for half a year and I have been working here since last week," Ivanna replied confidently and graciously; she omitted 'sir' as she knew that Raul wanted to be casual.

"My name is Raul."

"I know. You are Luis's son and Enrique's nephew right?"

"Unfortunately so," Raul replied and laughed; he really liked how Ivanna could call his father and uncle by their first name while nearly everyone in the mansion felt that it was a taboo.

Normally no servant girl would have a conversation with a young nobleman about his dislike of other high noblemen. But Ivanna did not fear that. Just like Raul, she strongly believed that all rules and conventions were merely boundaries to separate people. "You do not like them?" she asked curiously and looked at the young man who was staring at the ground.

"I don't. I don't like them. I don't like this place at all."

"I saw you walking alone in the garden in the afternoon. Other servants who have been working here for years told me that you are always quiet and you write poetry. You are different."

They talked, casually but full of content. Since the day of meeting the nameless boy in Malaga, Raul knew that conversations with newly-met people were often hundred times deeper and thousand times more meaningful than conversations with people who had been around throughout his life. Raul talked about everything, from his upbringing, to his incurable heart disease that might result in his early death, to his justifiable hatred against humans, to his love of poetry and dreams to become a great poet.

Ivanna listened with full attention, occasionally adding comments. She also shared her story, not her tedious work in nobles' mansions and palaces, but her real story. She was born and grew up in a village at the outskirts of Barcelona. Her father passed away when she was eleven and she followed her mother to search for all kinds of work in Barcelona. She had once worked under a French noble family so she also spoke some French. But more importantly, she loved music since ever since she remembered sound. She could play the guitar and she loved to sing. At night, even if she was exhausted after work and her mother was asleep, she would go outside and sing with her guitar. She believed that without playing some music every night, she would eventually become a machine that was designed for work instead of a soul that was able to feel. Ivanna also told Raul that she could read a little bit and hoped that Raul could share his poetry with her.

Forgetting the existence of time, they just talked and laughed until a series of horse carts started to return through the gate of the mansion. "I will talk to you later," Raul said and held Ivanna's hand for the first time. "I'm sure you will," Ivanna replied with a smile and walked away naturally before people started to get out from the horse carts.

On the next few Sundays, while most men and women were packed in the cathedral hearing repeated verses again and again, Ivanna and Raul would sit or lay on the grass in the garden, whispering new perspectives about life again and again. They loved the empty mansion so much as it all of the sudden belonged to them. Apart from a few guardsmen at the gate of the mansion, there would be no one witnessing their intimacy. For the first time in his life, Raul appreciated the place where he had been growing up. While men and women were just having a light lunch so as to remain concentrated for the sermon throughout the afternoon, they would secretly slip into the pantry, feed each other berries and drink the precious chocolate. While men and women were lowering their heads to bow, they would lie down and look at the clouds imaginatively, singing songs about the clouds with lyrics by Raul and melodies by Ivanna. While men and women were kneeling before the large crucifix on the wall of the Cathedral, Ivanna and Raul would study the serious portraits of Raul's ancestors in the hallway, laughing at their overly lavish costumes. While men and women were reciting the Lord's Prayer out loud, Raul would read his poems to Ivanna in his bedroom, sometimes with genuine emotions and other times with a humorous tone.

Usually, on the following Mondays, most of the men and women would be resting to recover from the previous long day in the cathedral or concentrating to go back to work for the coming week. Raul did not have any private lesson on that day and would clandestinely slip out from the mansion with Ivanna. They would walk to the downtown of Valencia. Though Ivanna was the one who was new in the city, it was usually Ivanna who led the way. With Ivanna, Raul found that he was rediscovering the city that he had been living for eighteen years. Every narrow street and steep alley was novel to Raul. Ivanna showed Raul her tiny flat in the old city area where she lived with her mother. It was just a room in one of the many old shabby houses. They would stay there to drink coffee in the late afternoon until Raul had to go back to the mansion to have yet another meaningless dinner.

In other days of the long week when they met each other in the garden, they would just give each other a beautiful smile and an eloquent gaze as if they shared thousands of stories and millions of secrets. One Wednesday night, when Raul was troubled by insomnia, he was very sure that his insomnia was only caused by the absence of Ivanna. He wore a black overcoat and tiptoed out of the mansion. He climbed over the high fences carefully so as to avoid the attention of the guards. Encouraged by the black sky and the silence, Raul walked down to the old city area. He neglected his heartache and passed all the dark alleys with his youthful spirit. And there she was again. Seeing her in a dark silent city was the best thing ever happened to Raul. For once, the whole Valencia belonged to them. She was playing her guitar; the music was so mellow that no one would complain that the sound disturbed their sleep.

They went up to Ivanna's empty flat as her mother was sleeping in another man's bed somewhere across the city. They kissed instead of talked because words were no longer enough to reflect their intimacy. They did every movement rather slowly as time seemed to have disappeared in this long night. Ivanna purposefully made it slow and patient. She made sure Raul's passionate but weak heart could keep up with her rhythm. Raul followed Ivanna's silent lead wholeheartedly. He sensed the pain in his heart, his difficulty to breathe and a general lack of strength. For once, he felt like he was going to pass out. Yet, he did not stop the movements as they were impossible to stop once the beginning was unlocked. Hundreds of sleepless night used to come and go pointlessly; there was finally one night that Raul would always remember.

***

"So beautiful. I cannot believe that I have missed so much in the past years," Raul said as he and Ivanna were overlooking the whole city of Valencia from a hill at dawn. It was an early Friday morning. Shortly before, Raul had once again slipped out from his room to Ivanna's tiny flat. They realized that the flat was too small to contain their fierce love and even the narrow streets restricted their love from flowing. So they walked up all those steep stone steps to the top of the hill that overlooked all the streets and buildings in Valencia. Each step was not easy for Raul; but ever since his passionate love was unlocked, he had strength to do anything.

Raul could see that the buildings stood like his childhood toy blocks and were closely packed together. The cathedrals and palaces stood out from other houses. Outside the city wall were the Gypsy caravans, a few isolated hamlets and a neatly stationed barrack. The glittering sea occupied the east; the yachts and galleons looked especially heroic with the rising sun on the eastern horizon. "Really breathtaking," Raul spoke again. "All the buildings, the galleons, the caravans and the walls. They were all gorgeous. The humans who created these gorgeous things, on the other hand, are disgusting and pathetic."

For the first time throughout these magical weeks, Ivanna was angry at Raul. "Not all humans are disgusting! You're the one who is disgusting if you suppose that," Ivanna spoke rather crossly and broke the serenity of dawn. Raul remained silent and looked at the ground and Ivanna's shoes. After an uncomfortable silence, Raul finally spoke, "I'm sorry, Ivanna. You made me love myself and the world much more and I should appreciate it."

Ivanna indeed poured colorful paint onto everything Raul saw. She gave a direction to Raul's confused mind, a direction of loving things instead of doubting things. "You know, Raul," Ivanna said as they were walking down along the stone steps, "If you did not approach me on that Sunday in the garden, I will eventually become just another boring servant girl in your mind. You'll never know that I can play music and love your poetry. So it is this big world that makes everyone seems to be boring. If you really try to know each person by your heart, you'll always find out much more."

"How I wish I could look through every stranger's eyes and touch the most precious part of their hearts that has not been contaminated," Raul said. "But I am the most fortunate person in the world right now, to have you. I really love you, Ivanna," Raul spoke softly as the early sunray shone on Ivanna's face.

"The galleons set off with the rising sun,

The beam shines on your tender face,

Love is the taste.

Forget the past, fear not the future,

For it is the present that relates,

That is immaculate."

Raul read the last few lines of that poem and stopped flipping the pages. He had written more than a dozen poems about Ivanna and this was the second last one. He restrained himself from proceeding to the last poem about Ivanna. He really wanted to proceed. But he put down the book and tried to fall asleep.

He could not. Despite his indescribable weariness and the screaming pain from his heart, his mind refused to be closed. His heart disease would accompany him throughout his life until his heart would willfully give up. Raul remembered that he was brought in front of the best physician in Valencia after he had a dangerous coma when he was about nine. "It is innate. He was born with that. There is no particular reason for such illness. Nor is there any way to cure it once and for all," the physician said monotonously as he looked into the young child's eyes. Young Raul was escorted away when Petra whispered worriedly to the physician, "Is it fatal? Would he be able to live through to adulthood?" Raul's heart was indeed weak; but his mind was clear and his ears were sensitive. And once again, the adults underestimated the latent sensitivity that children possessed. Raul could hear perfectly the confidential conversation. "It is hard to predict at this stage. But I am not optimistic about that, Madam," the physician spoke softly yet clearly.

Turning restlessly in his bed, Raul found himself descending into hatred again. He hated the sheer unfairness in the world. All his relatives, who led mediocre lives, could live comfortably while he himself, who had hundred times the knowledge, thousand times the imagination and million times the potential any of them had, had to suffer and could not even reach his adulthood. He demanded the fates of the world to let him live on. He demanded that he must live comfortably for a long time. He demanded it without any courtesy or modesty, for it was what he deserved. He deserved to have a longer and better life than his mediocre relatives. The unfair world owed him for this.

He turned his anger and hatred into power. He threw away the irritating blanket and jumped down from his bed despite the soaring alarm in his heart. He was determined to find the longevity and well-being that he always deserved. He did not tiptoe nor did he climb over the fences. He just walked directly through the main gate of the mansion, ignoring the caution from the guards.

The Gypsies, who seemed to be not trustworthy at all, were the most knowledgeable people who could help Raul. Raul remembered that Ivanna had once taken him to meet an old Gypsy woman, who could instantly observe Raul's heart disease, his indescribable hatred against humans and his growing narcissism. Raul walked past all the shabby streets and steep alleys; he passed through the western city gate by showing his aristocratic identity; then he approached the Gypsy camp that emitted sound and light in the dark silent night.

The Gypsies welcomed Raul as soon as he was at the entrance of the camp since a visit by an aristocrat like Raul certainly meant profit to them. They led Raul to a bigger tent and asked him to sit on an interesting carpet; they brought food and poured wine for Raul and told him to wait for the old lady. Raul did not touch any of the food or drinks; he stared at the eccentric patterns on the carpet. Finally, she came into the tent and sat down slowly opposite to Raul. She had thin braids and wore a red headscarf. The deep wrinkles on her face proved her profound experience in life.

"Young man. I remember you. Your health is deteriorating and your days are running short," just like the first time she met Raul, she always spoke directly and bluntly. Raul's heart sank as his worries were confirmed but he nodded his head. "I assume you want to extend your life as you deserve more," she said while she was smoking a large pipe; a strong smell of mint came into Raul's nose. Raul nodded and asked, "You can help me?"

She studied Raul intensely and finally spoke, "Luna jealousy, have you heard of this ancient legend?" Despite the fact that Raul was an avid reader who had a wide appetite for rare knowledge, Raul had never heard of it. He shook his head and she continued, "Ever since the moon came to the world, she always has to sit at the dark sky, overlooking the land. People have lived and died; kingdoms have risen and fallen; oceans have become desert and mountains have sunk below water. But the moon is still always there, witnessing every coming and passing with solitude being her only companion."

She continued, "The moon started to envy humans. Humans can have a short life, treasuring everything they have and valuing every relationship, while she can never have an end, but is forever imprisoned with solitude. One night when she was bathing in the dark sky as usual, she was consumed by sheer jealousy against mankind. Consequently, she deceived and cursed some of the most intelligent and most blessed souls on earth. The ultimate wish of mankind - immortality - was granted to these souls by her. But after some years, these souls found out that she was cursing them instead of blessing them, for their immortality came with a heavy cost. They would consume all the spirits around them so as to sustain their immortality. They survived while all the ones whom they cared about turned into dust. These eternal survivors would then eventually no longer be willing to establish any more relationships which would end swiftly in their eyes."

Raul listened and was intrigued. "Was she telling me a fable that teaches me the necessity of death?" Raul thought. The old Gypsy woman continued, "Of course, humans were always resourceful, even in seeking an end. One of these cursed souls, a Roman sage, ultimately found a way to break free from her curse. Before he decided to end himself, he tried to seek out the other hundreds of cursed souls like him to help them break free. He did not find all of them as these cursed souls scattered all across the earth and in fact quite some of them still could not give up the life that they meaninglessly held. So he wrote down the way of breaking free from the curse and tried to spread it widely before he finally ended his own life. Yet papers and words were particularly vulnerable to the destructive effects of time. People regarded him as an outlandish hermit and not many copies of what he had written were kept. Eventually, what that Roman sage had written was lost after some years."

The old Gypsy woman put down her pipe and said, "Legend said that among the hundreds of souls that were initially cursed, quite a few are still living until today. They missed the chances of breaking free from the curse and were unable to come across what the Roman sage had written. Through the endless experience of solitude and alienation, these lost souls slowly became just like the moon. They slowly acquired the spell of granting immortality. And more importantly, they might also be motivated by Luna jealousy, wanting to spread their solitude through granting immortality."

The old Gypsy woman gazed at Raul and said, "And now, young man, what matters to you is...we Romani, or at least I, know the way of finding such cursed souls that can grant immortality. And more importantly...I may also possess the way of breaking free from the curse as I have what the Roman sage had written. So young man, you may extend your life by finding these cursed souls to grant you immortality. But when extended life turns out to be not what you wish for, you may have a chance to end it too."

The old Gypsy woman finally stopped talking and just stared at Raul. Raul was perplexed. He was a broad-minded person, especially to mysticism and legends as they also belonged to his areas of interest. But still, he was still very much stunned. "How...how can I trust you?" Raul asked. "You cannot. But if I just made up all of those, I would be a genius storyteller. My grandfather had once met one of these few mysterious immortals. He met such a mysterious woman in a forest in Germany. She had pure golden hair, wore purple silk and bathed...wait...that's all I can tell you before you pay me," the old Gypsy woman turned her tone from mysterious to completely hardheaded.

"I have already told you so much. I expect you to pay us something in return first. It is your concern, not mine, whether you believe me or not," she said as her mysterious eyes turned into desirous eyes that were looking for gold and silver. "I believe you," Raul said, "I had once read a story about a whole town was devastated one hundred years ago when a girl was being accused for witchcraft. But when she was executed publicly, she drew away the life force of many people in the crowd instantly to sustain her life amid the harm inflicted upon her. Whether she did it intentionally or involuntarily is a question. But if this story is also true, it fits perfectly to your account about immortality." Raul took out one shinny gold coin and three silver coins from his pocket; "This is all I have for now," he said.

The old woman studied the coins closely and said, "That's enough for now. But I will not tell you more until you pay me more. I will tell you the way to find these immortal souls and show you what the Roman sage had written if you pay me more. In fact, I expect much more for that." While Raul was still hesitating, the old woman interrupted his consideration, "I tell you what, young man...You go back first and think about what I have said tonight. If you really want me to help you, come back again tomorrow night and bring me at least fifteen gold coins."

So Raul left the camp with heavy and contradicting thoughts in his mind. Back into his room, he decided to sleep again. Despite his clouded mind, he still eventually fell asleep due to extreme weariness. When his bedroom door was repeatedly knocked at about ten o'clock, he just spoke through the other side of the door that he was unwell and would skip all his private lessons that day. Raul sat down and tried to clear his mind to make such an important decision. He tried to summon his rationality but he could not; the fear of death and hatred for the unfairness of the world continued to dominate his mind.

Inexplicably, Ivanna intercepted his thought process for quite a few times. Her face and words repeatedly came to his mind. He picked out his poetry collection once again and decided to read the final poem that he wrote about Ivanna since he could not withhold himself anymore.

"The comfortable light breeze,

Shaking the decaying tree.

The blissful morning sunshine,

Shines on where the beggars lie.

Take me too, I know you,

Talk to me, just we two.

The pure raindrops pouring from the sky,

Diluting the poisonous tears in my eyes.

The carefree singing from the birds,

Waking me up to this loveless earth.

Just kiss me, I love you,

I know the pain, you poor soul.

Please, don't haunt me like a ghost,

Just let my tears flow."

Raul wrote this poem two weeks after he had last seen Ivanna when he was tormented by every negative emotion from anger to fear and all the way to regret. Two months after the start of his magical bond with Ivanna, Petra and Luis Miguel started to question his frequent disappearance from the mansion. In fact, one of the patrolling guards, who seemed totally indifferent to the private lives of noblemen, had reported Ivanna and Raul's unusually intimate behaviours every Sunday to Luis Miguel.

Initially, Raul tried to hide his relationship with Ivanna by using all kinds of excuses. But he soon realized that he could not hide it for long and nor should he do so. Ivanna also told him during one of those romantic nights in her tiny apartment that she would not mind at all if Raul admitted it and she would be willing to sacrifice her job at the mansion or anything to continue their relationship.

Raul told Ivanna to stay in her apartment and not to return to the mansion to work in the following morning. When he was questioned by Petra and Luis Miguel in the following morning again, he admitted it without any hesitation or guilt. What followed was a fierce debate. Petra and Luis Miguel's repeated justification and intimidation could not convince or subdue Raul to the very least extent. Instead, their conservative and authoritarian beliefs disgusted and angered Raul greatly, who left the debate ultimately.

Very soon, all of the Raul's relatives in the mansion knew this relationship. And of course, all of them stood against Raul. They could never tolerate that an exalted nobleman would have such an intimate relationship with a lowly servant girl. They regarded Raul's relationship with Ivanna as utterly scandalous, one that brought humiliation to the whole Fernandez de Castillo family and would contaminate their pure blue blood. As a result, all relatives of Raul, who followed the lead of Enrique, began a chilling cold war against Raul. They would not speak a single word with the eighteen-year-old young man; some of them stared at Raul viciously at the dinner table; others would immediately walk away from him whenever they came across him in the mansion.

Such a cold war had very limited impact on Raul since he had never wished to speak with his relatives in the mansion and he always hoped to be left alone from the masquerade. And Raul's relatives had underestimated the stubbornness, determination and passion in a young man's heart. Raul could still use his wits to sneak out from the mansion to meet Ivanna at midnight; he brought her food and money; he assured her that everything was still fine despite the fact that Ivanna started to worry about Raul.

The only person in the mansion who still sympathized with the alienated Raul was his elder sister Alejandra. When Petra and Luis Miguel tried to intimidate him by not giving him any money anymore, Alejandra would secretly give some of her savings to Raul. When Enrique ordered Raul's seat at the dinner table to be removed, Alejandra would bring food to Raul's room in the late evening. When Enrique instructed the butlers and servants to keep an eye on Raul at night to prevent him from leaving the mansion, Alejandra would occasionally assist Raul in a subtle way.

Nevertheless, Raul knew that sneaking out difficultly at midnight and relying on Alejandra for food and money was hardly a durable solution. Throughout the days, he was slowly considering and planning to leave the mansion once and for all with Ivanna. He would leave the mansion, leave all of his relatives and leave Valencia to a place where no one would know him. He could possibly leave Spain as he was fluent in a few languages. But at that moment, he was still planning as he needed to find a way to earn money in the future; he knew that a successful plan would always come with thorough preparations.

It was a rather chilly winter early morning. Raul and Ivanna were having a casual walk across the empty streets after a few peaceful hours in Ivanna's apartment. They acted playfully by blowing out warm steam to each other's face. They left the city center and were enjoying the serenity as they were walking along the vacant road outside the city walls.

Raul was talking about his plan of leaving Valencia with Ivanna. He expressed his fears and hopes, his determination and worries genuinely. Ivanna listened and blushed when Raul expressed his unconditional love. She reminded Raul to be patient while she was trying to hide her tears of joy and gratitude. The two of them were so devoted to the conversation and each other such that they were not aware of a horrible threat was coming towards them directly.

Loud noises of horse steps from the back pierced into the ears of Raul. Raul finally woke up from the numbing aura of romance. Raul turned swiftly and looked; horses were approaching them from the back at a lightning speed. Within the split of a second, Raul knew that it was impossible to stop the leading horse; the horse would very likely knock them down with its unstoppable force in the narrow road. Raul tried to step out from the road and pulled Ivanna out of the road in that split of a second. He succeeded in doing the first but not the later as her hands tragically slipped away in that flash of time.

The leading horse knocked over Ivanna; she was thrown in the air a few meters over the ground and landed painfully on the hard stone road. It was a horrible accident. Yet what traumatized Raul most in the days after was not the initial knock but the unimaginable actions afterwards. The leading horse continued to run and stepped on Ivanna. The other two horses, which were about five meters behind the leading horse, did not halt. Instead, they ran over Ivanna once again, causing her to be thrown in the air and land on the solid ground with her head once again. The two horses stepped on Ivanna and continued to follow the leading horse, sprinting away from the fatally injured girl.

Raul was numbed by horror for a few seconds. When he regained his consciousness and hurried towards Ivanna, the three horses were already a hundred meters away from them. She was there, motionless and vulnerable. Her eyes were wide open and so was her mouth. Raul lifted her head slowly. Thin streams of blood were flowing from the back of her head to Raul's hand and to the ground. Raul lifted her upper body slowly; her thin arms were completely motionless while her hand wrists and elbows were awfully dislocated.

Raul was consumed by total fear. His fear encompassed everything; it encompassed everything in present and future. His fear channeled desperation. He shook her body continuously. He called her name again and again, causing endless warm steam from his mouth to her cold face. He screamed for help in the empty road. After screaming for a dozen times, a few peasants passing by noticed him and immediately came forward. One of them tried to calm Raul down but failed. Another younger man, who still held a glimpse of hope, shook Ivanna's body futilely. The third peasant ran and called for more help.

While Raul was still screaming with desperation and gasping with fear, the third peasant arrived swiftly with two uniformed cavalrymen from the nearby barrack. The two cavalrymen recognized Raul's aristocrat status and offered the greatest assistance in attempting to revive the vulnerable girl lying on the stone road while one of the peasants was struggling to maintain Raul's sanity. A military doctor also came shortly afterwards. But Ivanna was motionless. Her eyes were so wide open as if they were protruding but her face was cold as ice and her body was still as stone.

Raul struggled from the grab of the peasant and rushed towards Ivanna once again. "Wake up!" he shouted as he was slapping her icy face; he shouted to his lover but he also shouted to the sky and to the fates of the world. Yet, while calamity is an essential element of life, miracle is not.

She was gone, without having a chance to speak a single word to Raul for her eternal departure. She was gone, without having an opportunity to express her gratitude to Raul for trying to save her in that half a second. She was gone, without having a way to give Raul a warm physical kiss before the two of them were separated in the physical world forever.

***

Raul did not tell any of his relatives about the death of Ivanna. While her body was quickly taken away, he wandered aimlessly in the streets of Valencia and tried to get lost. He returned to the mansion, doing nothing except sleeping and eating. Though Raul did not share with anyone the tragedy of Ivanna, all of his relatives seemed to know that fact clearly since Raul regained his usual position and recognition in the family. Enrique had ordered Raul's seat to be put back at the long dinner table. There were no more servants or butlers monitoring Raul's activities at night. Everyone in the family tried to act normally in front of Raul as if the previous cold war and prejudice against him never existed.

Raul could not care less about his recognition and status in the family. Apart from wandering aimlessly in the city, he barely left his room at other times. He did not go back to his usual seat at the dinner table and Alejandra continued to bring food to his room every night. After a few days of pure numbness, Raul gradually regained his rationality. He started to think about what really had happened. And there was always only one conclusion - it was not an accident. The series of images of Ivanna being knocked over and stepped by three horses consecutively came to his mind repeatedly. He could not see the faces of the three riders. But he did not want to know their faces, for he did not want to remember the faces of the murderers without being able to bring revenge upon them. Since that time, even if all the wisest sages in the world told him that it was an accident, he would still believe that it was a murder - a carefully planned, cold-blooded murder.

"But who could plan such a murder?" thought Raul. There were dozens of people who very much wanted Raul to lose Ivanna forever; but not many would resolve to use a cold-blooded murder to achieve their aim. While Petra was a hypocrite and Luis Miguel was a coward to Raul, Raul did not believe that they had the will and power to carry out such sinister act. They still had certain conscience in the bottom part of their hearts. On the other hand, a person who could gain so much power like his uncle barely held such conscience in his heart. Enrique had a history of brutal suppression of rioting workers; he had once demanded the soldiers in Valencia to fire upon rioting workers who were seizing the main streets of the city. While everyone in the city tried to act as if nothing had happened in the days after dozens of rioting workers were murdered at the main streets of Valencia, Raul would always remember that his uncle had nothing in his heart except a desire to achieve his goals.

So once again, while everyone in the family tried to act as if nothing had happened and continued to be the puppets of Enrique, Raul's hatred against Enrique was forever consolidated. The hatred led Raul deeper into his usual silence and solitude. His passion vanished as quickly and easily as an extinguishing candle light.

_________

Raul closed his poetry book. He could not forget Ivanna. He simply could not. For these two years, nearly everything reminded her about Ivanna. When he encountered occasional pleasant things like captivating music and beautiful scenery, he would always think about how he would share it with Ivanna if she was there. When he faced unpleasant situations like what happened at the dinner table yesterday evening, he would think that Ivanna could support and console him if she was there. The absence of Ivanna succeeded Ivanna to become Raul's true companion.

The absence of Ivanna also accompanied Raul all the time today while he was making this difficult decision. He feared that he would be haunted by her absence in the many years ahead if he chose to extend his life. One more day on earth is one more day with the non-existence of Ivanna. He feared that he would not be able to love anybody else in the years ahead, for any new hope could be as vulnerable and tragic as his story with Ivanna.

But on the other hand, his fear of death and his irrational demand for life were welling up into his mind all the time. He was terrified by the fact that his vulnerable heart would finally stop one day in the near future and he had to step into this unknown eternal darkness alone. And the unfairness of fates that bothered him last night also surged into his mind once again; he repeatedly convinced himself that he deserved to live much more than so many other people around him and he still had so much that he could achieve. For hours, with all these conflicting thoughts, his mind became an intricate maze where emotions and ideas were chasing each other.

Ultimately, emotions dominated his mind. The ideas that he had were adjusted in order to suit his surging emotions. He had convinced himself that he needed more life and abandoned the thought of the possibility of endless regret and bottomless solitude. He also reminded himself that he might be able to end the immortal spell if it turned out to be a kind of suffering since the old Gypsy woman claimed that she knew the way to end it too.

So in the afternoon, Raul searched for all the valuables that he possessed. He had seven more gold coins and two Libra of silver, which an amount well below what the old Gypsy woman had demanded. He then decided to sell all the delicate ornaments on his desk - a medium-sized porcelain vase from China, a small finely crafted crystal horse and a new wooden pendulum clock. He brought down all the books that were queuing neatly on the shelves. Apart from his poetry book and three of his favourite novels, he was determined to give away all the remaining ones that were very well-preserved. He opened his wardrobe; hats, coats, elegant suits, silk socks and silk scarves were all decided to be sold indiscriminately.

What Raul was going to keep were the objects that were necessary to him or held great meaning to him, which were surprisingly few compared to what he was going to sell. Apart from all the necessities, a few books, the guitar that Raul used to play music with Ivanna, pen and paper that forever helped him to express himself and a sketch of himself drawn by Ivanna for him were all he was going to keep. Technically, he also kept a pistol that he had purchased secretly weeks after the death of Ivanna by bribing officers in the barrack. That little weapon was intended to be used for a devious plot that was locked deeply inside Raul's mind for two years but was never carried out to the very least extent.

Raul sold all the luxuries in a pawnshop in the city centre. The shopkeeper was very polite to Raul since he recognized Raul's wealth and status. But the shopkeeper could barely hide the greed that was shown on his face. He knew that Raul was trying to sell all the things as quickly as he could and would not try to bargain with him. Though he exploited Raul by paying less than what his possessions were worth, Raul still received seventeen gold coins and four silver coins in the end, which were more than enough for paying the old Gypsy woman.

Raul brought all the money with him and visited the Gypsy camp once again in the late evening. He was led to the big tent to wait for the old woman just like the previous night. Raul brought out fifteen gold coins and left the others in his bag. The old woman was satisfied and said, "So you have decided to gain immortality through the spell. And you have fulfilled the promise. I will fulfill my promise too."

She picked up the fifteen gold coins slowly and continued, "Last time I told you that my grandfather had met one of those immortals in a forest in Germania. She had pure golden hair and wore purple silk. But the most unusual thing was that she was bathing in the middle of a lake directly under the moon. My grandfather was attracted by a mysterious melody sung by her. The melody was short but very haunting and memorable. It consisted of only four notes but anyone who has listened to such four notes will remember them for the rest of their lives. My grandfather asked about the name of that profound melody. The mysterious woman replied that it was called Echoes to the End."

The old woman gazed into Raul's eyes intensely and continued, "Echoes to the End. This melody was the essence of the spell that granted immortality. It will also lead you to find such immortals." The old Gypsy woman brought up a delicate wooden flute and showed it to Raul. She looked around the tent and spoke to the two other men in the tent in a Romani dialect unknown to Raul. The two of them immediately left the tent.

"My grandfather played the tune to me after his journey in that forest. For seventy years, this melody was firmly in my head even though I rarely played it or sang it to others. If you choose to listen to it now, it will accompany you for the rest of your life. Are you prepared to listen to Echoes to the End?"

She put the flute to her dry lips and played. Raul could indeed hear four notes. The four notes were played separately, not necessarily in staccato, but certainly not legato. Raul had rather wide knowledge about music but he could not tell what genre this simple yet profound melody belonged to. The melody came naturally, but there was something from the notes that was so remarkable which made it impossible to forget. The melody was very personal as well; it sounded like something that should remain deep inside a person's heart and should not be shared around unless you thought that the listener could perfectly understand you. It was like a deep secret - a secret that could unite separate individuals that could understand each other deeply. The old woman repeated Echoes to the End a few times until Raul said, "It is enough. I can remember it well for the rest of my life."

The old woman stopped playing and said, "To search for the mysterious immortal woman, you will need to play this melody. Every one of the immortal souls would be very sensitive and attracted to this melody since Echoes to the End lasts in the deepest part of their mind. They would very much wish to meet a person like you who know and play the melody as they believe that such a person can truly understand their solitude and their deepest thoughts ."

The old woman picked up the flute again and said, "You could play Echoes to the End with any instrument as long as the notes are clear and separate as I played them. But I suggest that you use my flute, which provides the most natural but clear and most mild but distinctive sound that can pass through miles in the wilderness." Raul was going to get the flute and the old woman interrupted, "You need to pay me more for this." Raul was quite annoyed but he decided to compromise; after all, he had already believed a lot of assumptions that the old Gypsy woman had said and following another advice seemed only logical. He picked out another gold coin and got the delicate wooden flute.

"You'll play it in the forest. The Black Forest. You will most likely find that mysterious woman who can grant you immortality there, where my grandfather met her," the old woman said concisely. Raul knew where the Black forest was; it was a large forest in the mountain region in the South-western part of Germany; tall pine trees were packed densely together, forming a dark and mysterious labyrinth; many magical tales came from this mystifying place. "But the Black Forest is large. Where exactly should I search for the immortal woman?" Raul asked.

"My younger brother, Besnik, can accompany you to go there and carry out the search. He had followed my grandfather in a lot of journeys across Europe; my grandfather had shown Besnik where he had met the mysterious immortal woman before and Besnik certainly remembered the place clearly." "And do I need to pay your brother for his help?" Raul asked though he already knew the answer. "Of course," the old woman said bluntly. "He will expect a reasonable reward as it takes at least a few weeks to reach the Black Forest and the trip certainly has its risks," she continued.

Raul was annoyed once again by her acquisitive attitude but he was also very intrigued by the general life attitude of the Gypsies. Like many Gypsies, the old woman knew a lot about the mystifying and magical aspects of the world. Yet, they were totally pragmatic and flexible instead of principled and dedicated. Perhaps it was the ultimate plausible way of life in a world where everything was so unpredictable and uncontrollable. Seeing Raul's hesitation, the old woman interrupted again, "Young man, that is your only way. Besides, who else can you trust?"

Raul agreed and she continued, "We will provide horses, foodstuffs and other necessities for you. When do you want to leave?" "As soon as possible," replied Raul; he had learnt the concise and pragmatic speech from the Gypsies. "Then, come again in two days, Besnik and you will set off in the morning."

***

Although Raul had been abhorring his family and the life in the mansion for years, he still had a strange attachment to this place and an inexplicable reluctance to depart. But Raul needed to focus and put aside such obstructing sentiments as he had one more important task to do before departing once and for all. He had to revenge for Ivanna. This plot had been occupying his mind subtly for two years and he could finally carry it out.

It was late autumn and he chose to wear a long overcoat. He hid his pistol in his coat all the time, feeling the hardness of the weapon pressing his heart. Raul was waiting for a moment when Enrique was alone without any servants or guards nearby. In fact, if he could really murder Enrique, most relatives in the family would eventually deem him as a suspect. But hopefully by the time he was suspected, he would be hundreds of miles away from Valencia and would never come back.

There were a few moments when Enrique was alone in his study without any servants around. Raul could have quickly slipped into the room, pulled the trigger promptly and immediately rushed back to his room without getting noticed. But Raul missed every one of those opportunities; he could not summon his courage and anger in those critical times. The human world was strange; while massacring innocent hares and chickens was a daily routine, murdering a malevolent man was a fearful and guilty task.

After a day of struggle between anger and cowardice, Raul finally released himself from the mission. He convinced himself that the best way of revenge was to embark on a new and better life that the villains had been hindering. He sat down at his desk and picked up his pen. He had decided to write a letter to his sister before he left; after all, she was the only person in the mansion that could still understand him.

Dear Sister,

Thank you for all your help in these two years. And forgive me for being stubborn and senseless all the time. But in our world, whoever wants to hold any principles will be deemed as obstinate. Whoever wants to demonstrate morality will be deem as narcissistic. Whoever is unwilling to step into this corrupted puddle will be forced to become a hermit.

How I wish I could be like you, accepting the ugly world without tainting your own heart. But I cannot. I have an inexplicable doubt on all the colors I see. I have a rising fear of the sounds I hear. I have a tremendous anger against the humans whom I live with. I have to leave, from this place that is hindering my blood from flowing, from this place that is suppressing my mind from thinking, from this place that is imprisoning my passion from blossoming.

I doubt whether there will be anyone missing me. Even if mother and father miss me, they will be missing the Raul whom they expect me to be, not the Raul who I should be. I have already lost Ivanna. I cannot lose myself. I will be taking care of myself. Hope everything will be fine with you. Once again, thank you very much for everything.

Love,  
Raul

Raul felt much better after writing the letter. He could finally put aside his heartache and drift into a comfortable sound sleep.

It was a rather chilling morning. Raul slipped away from his room and tiptoed along the corridor for one last time. He slid the letter under the door of Alejandra's room. After he threw his bags over the fences and climbed over the fences carefully, he turned back and had one last look at the mansion - white walls, large windows, wide balconies, tall coconut trees, a lavish fountain and old marble sculptures. It looked exactly the same twenty years ago, more or less the same one hundred years ago and it would look just this way one hundred years later.

He walked slowly, having a feeling that someone was looking at him from behind. But he did not turn his head. He just looked forward and strolled steadily to the Gypsy camp.

Besnik was already there. The old man had a large white beard and wore a brown hat. He had assembled two black horses and prepared four big bags of materials, two for himself and two for Raul. Raul paid him five gold coins for his accompaniment and Besnik promised Raul that they would be able to travel to the Black Forest safely and he would not leave Raul until they reach the exact place to meet the mysterious immortal woman.

Just before they were going to set off, the old Gypsy woman came out from a tent. She was holding a thin old manuscript. The papers were all yellow and some of the corners were torn off. She handed it to Raul and said, "This is the manuscript written by the Roman sage about ending the immortal spell. Take it, young man." Raul hesitated and the old Gypsy woman continued, "Don't worry. I won't charge you for this. It is of course not the original copy. The disciples of the Roman sage made a lot of copies and spread them. Our ancient family had one of those copies. To prevent losing such a precious manuscript, my grandfather had copied each word carefully and made another copy. And here it is."

Raul took that thin old manuscript indecisively. "Trust me, young man. You will need it. Unfortunately it is in Latin. My grandfather did not translate it and I can barely read Latin," said the old Gypsy woman, "But I assume you can read some Latin? You are very knowledgeable." Raul nodded and put the manuscript in his bag.

Besnik rode swiftly and Raul tried his best to follow behind. They rode ten hours every day; Raul was exhausted and could sleep easily even though they were camping in the chilling forests or hills at night. After two weeks, they had already passed through the rugged mountain range in North-eastern Spain and the beautiful meadows in Southern France. They were passing through all the boundaries of the small states in Germany with ease as Besnik knew all the shortcuts well and they were not for once checked by any soldiers or officers.

They rarely conversed as Besnik was a very quiet person and Raul was too exhausted to talk at night. But one night, Raul broke the usual silence. "Why has not a single person from the Gypsy camp tried to obtain immortality when you people clearly know how to do so?" Raul asked. "We Romani accept our fates. We go to where the fates lead us to. We won't change our fates. But under our fates, we will live for the best. We will earn money. We will discover knowledge. And sometimes we will enjoy ourselves," said Besnik. Raul understood their way of life but he himself would not live in this way. At least at this moment, he wished to change his fate; he wished to live longer; he wished to achieve much more.

After three weeks, they were already deep in the Black Forest. Tall trees were densely packed together while the ground was very rugged. Besnik and Raul had to get down from the horses and walk slowly while leading the horses. Raul had never been so deep inside a forest. Millions of leaves covered the sky while the sunlight was divided into thousands of thin light beams. It reminded Raul of the labyrinth of narrow alleys in cities, which was also created to make people get lost.

Raul started to practice Echoes to the End using his flute. Each note should be separate and clear. From time to time, Raul played a more and more powerful melody even though the volume did not increase. The four-note melody spread across hundreds of trees and passed through thousands of thin light beams, always seeking an identical melody that would echo back.

After five days of walking amongst the tall trees, following a stream, they had finally arrived at an isolated lake that was not disturbed by any plants. The young man and the old man sat beside the serene water. Besnik told Raul that it was the place where his grandfather had met the mysterious immortal woman. All Raul needed to do was to play Echoes to the End to call for the mysterious woman. Besnik was fishing to kill time while Echoes to the End flowed from the two tiny men across the calm water, through the trees and to the distant hills in the background. The sun sank below the horizon and rose above the clouds again and again but Besnik reminded Raul to be patient.

***

Miles away from the lake, the girl was going to lie at the hillside beside the forest once again, reminiscing the nostalgic memories. She imagined that there was a village behind her. She fantasized that there was a little boy beside her, who was going to take her hand and sprint to the forest. But in reality, she was preparing to get lost in the woods for the thousandth time after a hundred years of numbness.

At that very moment, four separate but clear notes reached her ears. Every door in her mind was unlocked. An identical melody came out from the deepest part of her mind and echoed with the incoming melody. For the first time throughout so many years, the girl opened her mouth and sang the melody; a melody that had been accompanying her for a hundred years inwardly but profoundly.

The incoming melody from miles away echoed with her singing perfectly. Though one was played by a flute and the other was sung, the two melodies shared the perfect pitch and tone; they were soon merged together into a single piece of music that was formed by echoes. Very soon, the girl was led by the music and walked through the woods to strengthen the echoes.

Part Four

"An echo! Can you hear it?" Raul asked Besnik eagerly as Raul was very surprised after a few days of repeated playing. "Play it again," said Besnik. Raul played Echoes to the End once more. Indeed, there was an echo, a distant echo. "Someone was singing the identical melody!" exclaimed Raul. Besnik nodded and told the young man to keep playing. The echo was getting closer and closer.

Raul did not hide his excitement; he believed that the person who was singing the identical melody was very likely an immortal soul that could extend his life. As the echo was getting louder, his weak heart was also pumping faster. He tried his best to remain calm to play the melody well and pay attention to his surroundings, expecting a mysterious immortal figure to arrive at any time.

Led by the mesmerizing melody, the girl realized that the notes came from the lake where she had been to so many times before. She accelerated as her sole wish was to strengthen the echoes. She reached the lake. Two people were sitting at the shore; their backs were facing her. She stopped singing and stayed there as she felt somehow insecure to walk closer. Observing their clothes and belongings briefly, the girl could tell that they were travelers from a faraway place. She knew that one of them was young and the other was old since one had abundant black curly hair while the other had scanty thin white hair. The young one was wearing an elegant black overcoat while the old one had modest clothing just like her.

The echo had stopped; Raul looked around. A person was behind him, standing about thirty meters away. Raul was startled and excited at the same time; he stood up immediately and gazed at her. To Raul's surprise, she appeared to be an adolescent girl. She wore a white blouse and a brown skirt; she had normal dark blonde hair. Observing from a certain distance, Raul could only think of her as a completely ordinary girl with a humble background. It was hard to imagine that such an ordinary girl knew a melody that might unlock the secret of immortality.

Raul plucked up his courage and moved towards her. Once he had made the first step, he did not stop until he was face to face with the girl. She had emerald eyes and rather fair skin; her dark blonde hair was tied into a delicate braid. She looked really young and Raul guessed that she could not be older than seventeen. She was plainly beautiful; she did not shine like the diamonds in the sky, nor would she attract thousands of men in the streets. But her natural and unadorned beauty reminded Raul of only one person - the person whom he had deeply loved and lost. Her reticent eyes and modest gesture gave out a seemingly ordinary yet profound aura, making Raul feel that this girl in front of him had an innocent essence and chaste morality despite having endured a lot.

Thinking of his lost love and admiring the unadorned beauty in front of him, Raul lost his words. "You...you sang?" Raul asked, using his German, which was not very fluent. The girl nodded.

"What is your name?" Raul asked again, this time more fluently. The girl hesitated and stared at the ground for a long time; Raul waited patiently as he knew that the girl was thinking deeply.

Ever since that beyond traumatic day in that beyond ghoulish town, the girl had not used her birth name again. Throughout the long century of numbness, the apparently sixteen-year-old girl adopted all kinds of unmemorable names when working in various towns and settlements. She changed her unmemorable name every couple of years when she moved to a new place and started a new job. Her birth name, a common name though it was, could only be associated with something deeper and stronger. To the girl, such monotonous and numb life did not deserve using that name; the name should not be called by thousands of people who just flashed in and faded out from her life meaninglessly.

If there was someone who could call the name once again, it would be someone who tried to unlock the deepest part of her mind, someone who had the passion to understand and ease her solitude, someone who could offer the greatest companionship such that when the relationship inevitably ended, she would only feel lost but not regretful. However, ever since the loss of her young cousin and her closest friend, the girl had not met such a companion throughout the years. Despite the girl's solitude being obvious to dozens of people around her, none of them could offer such companionship as they had all imprisoned themselves within their own busy yet deadened life, leaving the girl alienated and abandoned.

Now she could look deeply into the young man's eyes. His eyes were embodying a sense of loss. The girl was familiar with such eyes; they were from people who had lost others and were also slowly losing themselves. But there was something remarkable about this young man. While being directionless, the young man had a source of fire, a fire that the girl had rarely come across throughout the years. The girl could see the fervent fire burning from his heart up to his eyes, a fire that ignited endless imagination and hopes for the future, a fire that would not be extinguished even by repeated disillusionment, a fire that would burn down all the ridiculous monotony in our lives.

She decided to open her heart and unlock her mind, letting him get in, even though it was destined that one day he would have to leave.

"Marie," replied Marie.

"I am Raul...I from Spain," said Raul inarticulately. "I not speak well German...You speak French?"

"Yes, I can. I have worked in there before," replied Marie in fluent French. Besnik got up and walked towards the two of them. As the old Gypsy man also spoke some French, the three of them conversed in that language. Marie and Raul sat beside the tranquil lake and began the conversation while Besnik left them some privacy and fished alone. "How old are you?" Raul asked, not just because he wanted to know whether Marie was immortal or not, but mainly because he was genuinely interested in that girl.

Marie hesitated again. She could tell him that she was sixteen just as she had told hundreds of other people. But she plucked up the courage to let him in. "I've lived for a long time, very long. I have lost count of the number of years, but I think I have lived for about a hundred years already..." Though the answer could have been expected, Raul was still in awe. He whispered softly, "You're immortal?"

Realizing that Raul could play the mesmerizing melody which the mysterious woman sang to her many years ago in the exact same place, Marie understood that the spell of immortality was not a secret to Raul. So she nodded and said softly, "I was bound by that spell."

She turned towards Raul and asked, "And you? Are you bound by that spell?" Raul shook his head. "I knew this melody and the ancient spell of immortality from an old Gypsy woman. I was searching for a way to extend my life," Raul replied truthfully, without trying to hide his intention. He knew the only way to understand and to be understood by another soul was to always remain truthful and open.

Marie remained silent for a while and looked at the serene water; 'why?' she then asked calmly.

For quite a while, Raul did not know how to explain; a person could not explain his feelings and thoughts while leaving the personal story behind; on the other hand, a person could never truly tell his story while not sharing his feelings and thoughts at the same time. As a result, Raul told Marie everything. It was like improvising a personal novel in French, which sounded dreamy and surreal.

Marie listened patiently to the young man's past and present; she learnt about his innate heart disease, his constant dissatisfaction, his transient but epic love that for once could not be contained in this flat world and his determined dreams for the future. While Raul was recounting his meeting with the old Gypsy woman, he asked if Marie knew about the origin of the immortal spell. Marie, who had been living in monotony for a century, still had no full answer to her everlasting life. Raul explained carefully the inglorious origin of that immortal spell, trying his best to prevent Marie from regretting and getting hurt.

But upon hearing the explanation, Marie could not hold back her tears anymore. Her mind quickly flashed back to the distant night when she made the horrible decision that ultimately forced her to revolve around an endless loop physically while descending into a bottomless abyss mentally. After so many years, tears of regret finally flowed from her emerald eyes to her pale cheeks. Raul stopped talking; he understood why Marie was crying but he also knew that he could not completely understand her regret and sorrow. He discontinued and left out the fact that there might be a way to end the ancient spell of immortality, fearing that Marie would desperately look for the way to end her life.

Sympathizing with the sorrowful girl next to him, Raul was seriously reconsidering his decision to obtain the spell of immortality. However, his heartache was not easing, but worsening from time to time. Such physical pain was inevitably spreading a fear of death, urging him to find a way to extend his life. He was confused once again, being torn between natural human sentiments and deeper organized thoughts. He did not press himself to ask Marie whether she knew a mysterious figure who could grant him immortality. Instead, he attempted to calm his mind by looking at the serene water and tried to treasure the moment with the century-old yet innocent girl next to him who reminded him of his lost love.

"How was your life before being bound by that spell?" Raul finally broke the silence and asked; he realized this might be the only topic that would not bring out sorrow. Marie talked about her family, her dearest cousin and those carefree days. But the nostalgic reminiscing eventually led her to recount the day when soldiers destroyed her village and she was forced to leave everything behind with her cousin to survive in the forest. Raul had read about the great war involving many countries that lasted for thirty years a century ago; he knew that the war had devastated so many places and taken millions of lives. But listening to Marie's account brought out vivid images of the war which could not be acquired no matter how many books Raul read.

As Marie was recounting that day bluntly instead of emotionally, Raul admired the girl next to himself more and more. He found out how strong Marie was and at the same time how insignificant his troubles in the past were. He admired how she could retain her innocence and unadorned virtue despite facing such calamity. He himself and all the people in his family were like a joke in contrast to Marie.

"You like music?" Raul asked after a period of silence. Marie nodded. Raul got his guitar and said, "I used to play this with my loved one. Haven't played much ever since." He gently plucked the strings and started to play out the familiar music from his country. Marie looked at Raul's nimble fingers flashing across the strings; she then saw him swinging his head and having a casual smile on his face. That somehow reminded her the distant day when the young bearded man was playing the lute for her and her cousin. Though playing a very different melody, Raul was as devoted to the music as the young beard man was.

Raul started with a slow tune; it was quite a sentimental melody; yet a strong passionate aura was coming out amid the sentimental notes. Marie could not describe it but she could certainly feel it; it was just like the inextinguishable fire reflected from Raul's eyes. The tune started to gain momentum as Raul swept his fingers quicker and quicker. Besnik, who was now beside them, gave a rare smile to Raul and picked up a stick and a piece of marble; he hit the stick on the marble casually and made a unique rhythm that fitted perfectly into Raul's music.

Marie unintentionally swung her head with the rhythm. The sentimental yet passionate melody somehow urged her to dance but her taciturnity prevented her from doing so. The sun had already sunk below the horizon but Raul and Besnik were too devoted to the music to give it up. The fervent fiery music continued to burn just like the campfire that Marie had just set. She liked the music; it poured passion into her monotonous life. She liked Raul; he brought energy to her life; he demonstrated to her the possibility of treasuring one's own life.

After a few hours of alternate chatting and music playing beside the campfire, Marie said reluctantly, "I have to rest. And I'm afraid I cannot stay close to you." Raul perfectly understood Marie's dilemma. Marie had told him that she had perfected the way of holding up her desire for life while she was conscious, but she could not prevent her involuntary draining of spirit once she was unconscious. So Marie walked into the woods and lay on the dry cold ground.

***

It had been two days since Raul met Marie. For two days, they just sat and talked, putting aside the uncertain future. Marie was slowly revealing more of her past from time to time. The weather was getting colder but Raul paid his full attention to listen to Marie despite the unfamiliar frost around him. Every word that the century-old yet innocent girl said made Raul sympathize and admire her more. Raul also felt that the girl was getting more focused and spirited.

"What have changed throughout the years? Was the world one hundred years ago very different from now?" Raul asked curiously after listening to some of her stories about working in the inn with her best friend at that time.

Marie thought for a while and said quietly, "I don't know. Nothing. People do not change. They cry and laugh just like people in the distant past did. There are kind or cruel people, joyous or pessimistic souls just like a hundred years ago."

"You are still waiting for the immortal spell?" Marie asked about the future for the first time suddenly. "Honestly, I do not know," Raul said as he was shaking his head. "That was my original intention. But I am very confused now."

Marie looked at him sincerely, "Raul, I wish I could help you. I would certainly help you if I have the power. But my story has shown you the horrible cost of immortality and I think you know that. I am speaking with my most truthful heart that I really don't think you should touch that spell." She then looked at the ground and continued a bit reluctantly, "But if you really wish for it, I should respect your wish and help you...The mysterious immortal woman who had lived far longer than me...had granted me immortality in this very same place...She would visit this lake from time to time. From my knowledge, she would come here at the night when the moon was fullest."

Raul asked, "Do you hate her for binding you to the spell? It seems like she tried to trick you because she envied others who could have an end."

"I did. I used to hate her a lot, especially after my young cousin's death...But...but later I realized that ultimately I myself was the one responsible for it. I made the decision. I cannot blame others."

Raul decided to be completely frank, "I should be very careful in making this decision. But the old Gypsy woman had told me that there is actually a way to break the spell in case an immortal really wants to seek an end. So if I am really bound to the spell, I might still be able to end my life one day..." He stopped talking as he saw Marie gazing at him with her eyes wide open and Raul realized that he had just shared something that he had been trying to keep from her.

Raul looked into Marie's widely open eyes and said frankly, "I should have told you about that. Sorry Marie. I kept that knowledge away from you because I am afraid that you will...you will seek your death, which I really did not want. But you have let me make my own choice and share things to me even though you do not wish to. So I should really do the same. I should let you make your own choice...Your life only belongs to you just as mine belongs to me."

Marie smiled to him and said softly, "Thanks, Raul. I really like you." She did not press to ask more about how to break the spell just as Raul did not urge Marie to talk more about the way of gaining immortality.

But since that conversation, Marie had spent much less time sitting down at the shore of the lake. Instead, she was often wandering around, with her head facing the ground. She was pondering the greatest decision in her life ever since she had gained immortality. She finally had a chance to make the first fateful decision ever since the distant day when she was bound by the spell.

Noticing Marie's restless wandering, Raul could not sit down calmly either. He spent most of the day leaning on the tree trunks or throwing pebbles to the lake while sentiments and thoughts on the question of extending life were battling with each other in his mind.

Moving restlessly in his tiny tent at night as his mind refused to relax, Raul thought about the legendary Greek and Roman gods. Raul had been reading stories about them since he was a little child. He got out from the tent to have a taste of the fresh yet frosty air; amid the frosty mist, he saw that Marie was still not asleep, but leaning on a tree trunk.

"Cannot sleep either," said Raul as he approached her. Marie gave a kiss on Raul's cheek, giving his icy face some warmth. Raul gave her a gentle hug and talked, "I was thinking about those legends about Greek and Roman gods. Have you ever heard those stories before?"

Marie said, "A little bit. My closest friend in the inn used to tell me about them. But I only remember very little."

"I see. Well, these gods and stories are very likely to be fictional. But they make me think about my decisions. Those gods in the legends have been living for thousands of years and will continue to live forever. But immortality has never brought them happiness or contentment. Instead, they are still always restrained by desires and jealousy, while most of their days were spent in solitude and boredom."

Raul continued, "On the other hand, those heroes in the legends, who are mortals, could make the greatest achievement, live through the most momentous times in history and experience the strongest feelings despite the transience of their lives. Many of them eventually had a tragic end, but they still had a meaningful life."

Raul looked into Marie's eyes and said, "I don't know how many days I still have. But I should treasure them instead of asking for more. There is never going to be enough. Even if I live for a thousand years more, I will still never be satisfied..."

Marie smiled to Raul and said, "I think your thoughts are so much clearer now." Raul looked at the ground and shook his head, "Not really. Those stories have indeed convinced me more not to seek for the immortal spell. But the words I've just said are easy to speak. They are merely words. I still fear death as much as all animals do. I am still afraid. I do not want to die."

"We all do. There is nothing wrong with that. I've been living for so many years and I still fear that. We are living beings," said Marie.

Marie lay down on the ground and continued, "I am facing the same question as you are. To live or not..."

"Indeed."

Raul looked up at the sky. The moon had already grown from a crescent when Raul first arrived at the lake to a waxing gibbous moon now. He said, "It will only take a few more days for the moon to reach its fullest." He paused, looked at the gibbous moon again and said, "The old Gypsy woman was right. The moon is jealous of people's transient yet significant lives while she is imprisoned with darkness perpetually. I shall not fall into her trap."

He looked at the shiny reflection of the moon on the lake and continued, "Hopefully I will have a determined answer before the moon reaches its fullest when the ancient immortal woman came." The two of them went into Raul's tiny tent and had a casual yet meaningful chat. They lay side by side as their words echoed with each other. The echoes gradually faded as Marie was eventually consumed by drowsiness and lost her consciousness.

Despite knowing that Marie might have a deadly aura around her when she was unconscious, he did not move her away from the tent, nor did he leave the tent. He watched her pale skin and modest clothes. He really liked her now, not because she reminded him of his lost love, nor was it because he pitied and sympathized with her. He lay close to her, ignoring that his precious spirit might be drawn.

He thought calmly. With immortality, apparently he might live with her undisturbed by any worries for many years. But would such everlasting life be as precious as this very transient moment? Or would everything eventually end with quiet despair and numbness? And actually, why should he worry about having an end when everything should have one?

Having a relieved and blissful smile, sensing some gentle organ music in his mind, he fell asleep with euphoria.

***

Comfortable yellow beams shone through the tent and woke Raul up. Marie was not beside him. He walked out of the tent and saw obscurely through his drowsy eyes that Marie was sitting at the shore.

"Sorry. I should not stay in the tent. I couldn't control it. I just fell asleep," Marie said regretfully.

"You should never feel sorry about that. I chose to stay with you. And I will continue to do so."

Marie looked at the young man worriedly, "But...how are you feeling now?"

Lethargy clouded around Raul as he walked. But it was only physical weakness; Raul had seldom felt so spirited mentally. "Cannot be better," Raul answered confidently, which was half-true.

Raul looked at the century-old yet innocent girl joyously and said sincerely, "Marie, I have made my decision...and I'm sure about that. I will not be bound to that spell. I will accept my fate...but I hope to treasure all my remaining moments with you. It could be one more day, one more month or one more year. But I hope to be with you, for I might not have one more life."

Marie's life had become so much more spirited and focused ever since she had met Raul. But the words which the young man just said had fully melted all the numbness that had been lingering around her for a century.

Euphoric tears flowed down her cheeks as the young man continued, "I can still do a lot with my limited days. Just like the mortals in the legends, I can still have the greatest adventures. And after all, most of the adventures could only be carried out when we are young, free and spirited. It is actually not a tragedy to die young, being able to skip all the days in which I will be hanging on in quiet desperation."

While euphoric tears was streaming along her face, emptiness suddenly crept out from Marie's heart as Raul's impetus in his limited lifetime contrasted greatly with Marie's quiet despair in her never-ending road.

"Raul, I know it is unfair to you," Marie looked at the spirited young man and continued reluctantly, "But what if I would not accompany you to the end...instead...instead you have to help me to find my end..."

Raul's passion and courage diminished and he turned his gaze from Marie to the ground. He paused for a long time, thinking about how paradoxical and absurd fate was. In his limited final days, he had to help his beloved companion to find an end, which was the only way to truly love her.

"It would be unfair to you if I refused to help you, leaving you in desolation forever," said Raul after a very long pause.

Raul took out the yellowish old manuscript that the old Gypsy woman had given to him. He had just briefly flipped the pages before without trying to understand the words. He showed the manuscript to Marie, "This is the manuscript that the old Gypsy woman gave to me. I should have shown it to you earlier. It was originally authored by a Roman sage who was also bound by the immortal spell. He had found out the way to break free from it and had written it down..."

Raul looked at those ancient words and continued, "But it was written in early Latin. I have studied classical Latin before, which is rather different from what was being written in here. But anyway, I will try my best to decipher it to help you."

Marie did not know how to express her gratitude; she just nodded and smiled. Raul continued, "While I am deciphering the text, I really hope that we can travel together these days, Marie. You must have visited quite some interesting places throughout the years. I really want to travel with you."

Travelling, Marie remembered the distant days when her closest friend suggested the same thing. Indeed, she had been to dozens of towns and settlements throughout the years. But it was hardly travelling as she could barely pay attention to or feel any of those places. Nevertheless, she had to fulfill the wish of Raul, just like she had to fulfill her younger cousin's wish many years ago.

Raul packed the bags and prepared all the materials swiftly as if he wanted to leave the lake as soon as possible before the moon reached its fullest. Raul gave his few remaining gold coins and a few Libra of silver to Besnik, keeping only a few silver coins for himself. He thanked the old man for his dedicated accompaniment. In return, Besnik gave one of his horses, some foodstuff and a genuine wish of good luck to the young man.

The three of them travelled together out of the forest. After three days, they reached the flat meadows where the horizon was uninterrupted by crowds of trees or mountains. Raul and Marie bade the final farewell to Besnik as the old man was going to travel back to Spain all the way through Southern France. Marie and Raul on the other hand decided to travel a bit northwards, but generally wandered without a particular direction.

"Raul, I have been to quite some places all those years. But honestly...very few of them have remained in my heart. There is a place though...it is an ancient remnant abandoned by people. I think you might be very interested," suggested Marie.

So they travelled slightly northwards for two more days. Raul rode the black horse swiftly with his growing but inconstant impetus while Marie was holding Raul's waist tightly from the back, telling Raul clearly which direction he should take. Raul did not fantasize himself as a hero of any sort. But as the horse was sprinting across the vast fields while a breathtaking sunset was awaiting them on the horizon, Raul could not stop thinking that he was a mortal in those ancient legends. He might not be a hero; he was far from that. But at that moment, at least he was an adventurer, bringing a momentous journey to himself and the girl behind him.

***

Raul was sitting at the centre of the Roman amphitheater with Marie. It was a gigantic oval-shaped ground that was surrounded by five meters of tall stone walls. Above the walls were layers of steep slopes that used to be crowded with thousands of spectators. There were multiple thresholds at the walls. Raul and Marie could get inside and walk through the intricate tunnels where people and animals far older than Marie were ordered to walk through many years ago.

Now, many centuries later, Raul was not gazed by thousands of spectators when he was at the centre of the oval-shape ground. Yet millions pieces of dying grasses were still accompanying him. Though being in a Roman remnant had no practical effect in helping him decipher the early Latin text, Raul really enjoyed reading the text in such a relatable setting.

The manuscript was quite brief; there were only six pages in total. Raul was trying with great effort to understand the first four pages of the text while Marie was setting up a cozy camp in the middle of the remnant. Raul could in fact identify more than third quarters of the words in the text; however, he could still barely understand any of the sentences. As a result, he attempted to find the meaning solely from the words, like making a picture from scattering pieces of puzzle. "Two people, eyes, play, sound, sleep, courage, vision, death..." Raul translated the Latin words into Spanish and wrote them down on a piece of paper. Amid all the words, Raul had made an important discovery. A phrase was written in italic repeatedly in the text. Raul could identify that one of the words in the italic phrase was echoes.

An idea immediately flashed into Raul's mind. The italic phrase must be referring to Echoes to the End. "Two people play Echoes to the End to each other until flowing into dreams to have a vision about death?" Raul whispered to himself as he made this daring but coherent hypothesis based on the words he had translated.

That night, when Raul and Marie sat at the cozy camp that was set at the center of the ancient amphitheater, he told her his discovery and hypothesis. Raul continued, "So I guess there is not a fixed way to end the spell. Instead, every soul gets a unique vision about his own end."

"If you want to test my hypothesis, I can help and accompany you. After all, I never really feel bored of playing that melody over and over again," said Raul

Marie looked at Raul with gratitude. She could not imagine how selfless Raul was, fulfilling her wish unconditionally. Marie smiled and said gently, "Only if you wish to do so..."

The moon was at her fullest now, being immaculate but desolate at the same time once again. She was probably very jealous of the companionship between the two beloved souls. Marie sang the melody in her mind. The melody was transcendent. She uttered the notes slowly yet clearly. The notes rose up to the sky but there was never an echo back from the sky. Just as the melody was going to perish because there was no echo to sustain it, Raul picked up his guitar and tuned it finely; he then played the exact same notes in the exact same tone as Marie's voice. He did not use the flute this time because he always liked his guitar better. Marie sang again; Raul looked at Marie's beautiful emerald eyes and replied to the melody in a leisurely manner. Such echoes repeated for a few dozen times as Raul's black eyes and Marie's emerald eyes were fixating at each other. Raul started to feel drowsy after a long day of travelling, exploring and deciphering. But he urged himself to stay awake and keep playing. He had to keep replying to Marie's notes until she drifted into sleep to get a vision.

The volume of Marie's singing was gradually diminishing and Raul was also decreasing the volume of his guitar notes mindfully. Finally, Marie, who was lying down comfortably at the center of the amphitheater, drifted into her dream.

_______

Marie was at the middle of nowhere. She was upright and walking, but not on solid ground. She was at an empty space. She looked around. On her left came bright white light; the light illuminated the entire space on her left. But the bright white light stopped at where she was standing. She was facing an invisible line that separated her left and right sides; the white light from the left did not pass through the invisible line. On her right was pure darkness and nothingness. It was so dark that it was obvious that Marie could not meet anything even if she walked thousands of miles to the right.

So she naturally turned her focus to the left. There was not only bright light, but also sound and smell. She could hear all kinds of sounds flashing in and fading out quickly - people's unintelligible murmuring, all genres of music, horse galloping, infants' crying... All kinds of smell came to her nose and faded away too, fresh grasses, dead adulterated water... Amid all the sounds and smells, Marie tried to find something that was profound and definite. But there was not. There was not a single unifying voice that could sum up everything on her left and deliver a definite meaning to her.

So Marie turned her attention to the right. It was still complete darkness. But she paid more attention to the emptiness, trying to see or hear anything from it. A voice was creeping out, not necessarily from the darkness, but more possibly from her own mind.

"Do you fear turning into nothingness?" the voice asked. "Would you be willing to leave behind everything and everyone?" the voice continued. "Would you be able to forget everything?" "Would you have the courage to go alone without knowing what comes afterwards?"

The series of question from the voice was accompanying Marie as she was slowly stepping into the darkness. Despite the fact that Marie could not give a very definite answer to all the questions raised by the voice, she continued to walk towards the darkness. "You will only be shown death when you do not fear it, when you are willing to face it." the voice said. Marie continued to walk into the darkness as she knew she could receive the vision of death deep in the darkness.

The bright white light from her left had already diminished into a thin beam of light as Marie was moving deep into the darkness. All the sounds and smells from that side had nearly vanished. Soon, the beam of white light would disappear completely and she would be engulfed by complete darkness. But at that moment, certain indecisiveness crept into her mind. She was unsure whether to step further into the darkness, leaving all the light, sounds and smells behind. She feared that she might not be able to come back. She hesitated and stopped walking.

"You are not yet willing to face it. Fear can still be found in your heart," said the voice.

The whole scene dissolved.

_____

Marie woke up and found herself breathing rather hastily. She saw that Raul was soundly asleep beside her. His breathing was also rather rapid. Raul always slept in a fetal position with his legs curled up. He curled up his legs even more in this chilly night, making him look like an adorable squirrel having a long peaceful hibernation. Marie could not help but smile every time when she saw Raul deeply asleep.

She rolled over her blankets slowly, thinking about her failure to see the vision just now. It was very close; but still, she failed. She continued to roll very slowly on the blanket, watching Raul at the same time, until finally she also fell asleep soundly.

Marie was telling Raul about her dream while Raul was having his breakfast. Raul replied, "You're very close. And the voice was right, no matter it was from your own mind or some supernatural forces related to the spell." He picked up the piece of paper that had his translated words and continued, "Courage, fear, understanding and those related words appear a few times before the word vision in the manuscript...They also appeared around the phrase Echoes to the End...I assume Echoes to the End will lead you to the path to the vision because...through the echoing of the melody, we unlock the deepest part of our mind and achieve certain transcendence..." Raul looked at Marie earnestly and continued, "But ultimately, it is you yourself who has to decide whether you are willing to face death or not. I may not agree completely with the writer of this manuscript - what you need might not necessarily be courage. But it is certainly a decision that you need to make promptly and cannot hesitate forever."

They then put aside this serious topic for the rest of the day. Raul did not read the remaining two pages of the manuscript either. They explored the ruins neighbouring the amphitheater. There were isolated columns standing apart from each other without a rooftop connecting them. There was a wall which was relatively intact; some interesting faces were sculpted on the wall. The two of them just wandered around the ruins, sometimes close together, sometimes exploring alone, occasionally climbing up piles of rubble, other times sitting at the corner of old stone walls. Despite being free from aging and death for so many years, Marie had rarely felt so free throughout the years.

Lying down and gazing at hundreds of stars across the sky, Raul was in awe. Astronomy was not a subject that he had studied before; but he could totally feel the greatness of the world above the Earth. "See all those stars. They are all millions of miles away from us. And there are thousands of them," said Raul in an amazed tone, "and there are possibly millions more that we cannot see." Marie was also amazed by the number of stars and the vastness of the outer world even though she had looked up at the sky for uncountable times.

Raul continued, "Compared to the boundless dark sky, we are tinier than dust. Every one of us was so insignificant. How foolish it is for a person to think that he is the center of the world! How arrogant it is for the kings and conquerors to believe that they could rule everything! And when the stars are still shining thousands of years later, we will be totally forgotten, and we will not be able to leave a single mark."

Marie understood Raul's lament. She smiled to Raul and said, "That might be true. But do you know what, Raul? You've shown me another thing. Indeed, we are tinier than dust compared to the boundless sky. But have you ever thought that your mind could be just as vast as the limitless sky?" She continued, "Ever since you played such passionate music at the first night after we met, I found that you are such an imaginative person. Trust me, your mind is just as great as the sky even though we appear to be tinier than dust. You can imagine things a thousand times greater than what you see."

Raul smiled happily and pulled Marie closer to him as the two of them gazed at the hundreds of stars, imagining millions more in their minds.

They tried the exact ritual later that night; it was much more genuine and profound than any religious rituals. Once again, Raul stayed focused to continue the echoes until Marie could flow into her dream.

Everything is the same; the bright white light on her left and the complete darkness on her right. Déjà vu was lingering in her mind, as if this was not just the second time, but the thousandth time. She walked resolutely to the right, turning her back to the white light without yearning for it even once.

Finally, it was complete darkness. Not just darkness, it was total nothingness. No sound could be heard and nothing could be touched. She could not see herself, nor could she feel herself. She was disappearing, joining the nothingness. Gradually, her hands, legs, arms and body had all disappeared. Yet, there was still consciousness. Her consciousness was not restricted in a body and was still aware of everything.

The darkness ceased and something happened. Orange and brown...Orange and brown occupied every inch of the space. Sand...dry sand was everywhere. The sand created endless immobile waves that spread to the horizon. Above the endless waves of sand was an orange cloudless sky.. The sun was not at the sky. Instead, it was showing half of its face on the horizon. It released all of its remaining radiance before its departure, pouring orange into the cloudless sky.

The air was very dry. It was a bit hot too; but the heat was fading away. There was nothing apart from the layers of orange color. Then, there was some noise, some unusual noise. Hissing. Not loud, but very menacing. A winding thick cord was twisting restlessly on the sand. It was a snake, dangerous and hostile as always. Its body was covered with an organized pattern. Its head was in a triangular shape; a thin red tongue came out from the tip of its head.

The snake was rising from the ground, slowly occupying the air and covering up the orange sky. Its head was getting closer and larger. Its red eyes started to dominate. But the red eyes were soon overshadowed by sharp white teeth when its mouth opened. The originally low hissing sound had become so obvious now that it had become the background of everything. Its mouth stretched open to the largest extent, preparing to consume everything. It then closed all of a sudden. There was a flash of whiteness as the sharp teeth cut in. The flash of whiteness burst into a loud piercing scream.

Complete darkness was restored.

______

"Marie! Marie!" Her body was being shaken as someone was calling her name anxiously. It was Raul. Marie opened her eyes and saw a concerned face of a young man. "You were screaming just now! That's the loudest scream I've ever heard! Seriously, consider my poor heart. I wish to stay with you longer," realizing that Marie was fine, Raul said half-anxiously and half-amusedly.

Marie chuckled and sat up slowly. She drank some water and calmed herself. Then she finally spoke, "I think I've got the vision...it was quite an experience..." Marie tried her best to recount everything that she remembered. She talked about the complete darkness, the total disappearance of her body, the endless waves of sand with the orange sky and finally the dangerous snake trying to consume everything. Raul asked a series of question, pressing Marie to dig up every bit of her memory so as to describe the scenes in as much detail as possible.

Raul picked out the manuscript and read the fifth page. He only spent a few minutes to identify the words that he knew on the page. He then said, "I'm not sure whether the vision should be taken literally or figuratively...But there are words like remember, follow and travel on the fifth page. I guess we should travel to the place that appeared in your vision first."

"But where is it? How do we get there?" Marie asked curiously. "Endless waves of sand and dry air. Obviously, it would be a desert," said Raul. Marie knew what a desert is but had never been to one; she knew that it was a large barren place with no water, very few plants and mostly sand. She heard about deserts from merchants who came from faraway lands. From the merchants' accounts, the desert seemed to be a desolate and dangerous place; no one could pass through the vast desert alone; accompaniment was necessary.

Raul spoke while moving about wildly, one-tenth due to frustration while nine-tenths excitement, "Well, I guess we will have another journey. I have never been to a desert before. It will take at least weeks or even months to reach one." He continued, "I don't think there is any desert in this continent. At least there is none as huge as the one in your vision where there were endless sand dunes until the distant horizon. There are some rocky and very dry places that could be regarded as deserts in Spain. But the relief is rugged and I think it is quite different from what was in your vision...and that means the closest possible desert in your vision will be in Africa."

Africa - it was an unfamiliar term for Marie. Throughout the years, Marie had never travelled across the seas, let alone visited another continent. She only had a very faint idea that Africa was a large alien place in the distant south. Raul smiled and continued, "It will be quite a journey to go to a continent that we have never been to before. I could have never imagined that I will be going to a desert in Africa."

"Raul, you've done a lot for me. You need not risk so much for me," said Marie with concern. Raul gave an intriguing smile and replied, "It would be the best adventure I could have if this is the final one for me. And besides, I will travel with you even if you have to reach the Pacific." A gentle smile came from Marie's heart even though Marie had no idea what the Pacific was.

***

They left the Roman remnant the next day. Raul's feeble heart did not prevent him from travelling once again as his enthusiasm and will overrode the weakness in his physical heart. It took three days for them to get to the South of France. It was generally an easy and quick trip as Marie knew the directions by heart. They stopped at a town in South-western France, close to the mountainous boundary between France and Spain. "That's the furthest place that I know," said Marie, "I've never travelled any further as I recall."

Without the lead of Besnik, Raul had to find his own way. Besnik did give the young man a map of Spain; but it was sketchy and not very useful. Besides, a map could never lead a person completely. Raul and Marie visited the market in that French town, finding the most necessary and cheapest goods as Raul only had a few silver coins left. Marie taught the young man how to bargain, a task that he had never done before.

Amid the busy streets, a poor woman was sitting at a corner. The impoverished woman had nothing but a pair of desolate eyes. She was at most in her late thirties; but the harshness of life had ravaged her into an eroded creature. Her desolate eyes met Marie's and Raul's. In the past, Raul would escape such eye contact as it always brought guilt straight into his heart while Marie would reply to such eyes with the same desolation without any particular sympathy. But now, after they had been detached from humanity for so many days, the previous numbness and fear had been washed away as human's most natural and genuine sympathy replaced them.

Raul and Marie looked at the woman's eyes with courageous compassion. Raul knew that she could just be another Ivanna and Marie understood that she could be another Ritav. Raul was struggling about whether to give the woman a silver coin, which was very important to Raul as the two of them still needed to travel a lot. At the end, he did not but he bought bread, a clean blanket and a pair of new shoes for the woman. When Raul and Marie approached the woman with these most basic commodities, the woman thought that two angels had bought her heavenly luxuries. Her shaky hands held Raul's warm hands tightly and could barely utter words to show her disbelief and gratitude.

Raul found a room in a humble inn in that French town. They settled down and organized the goods that they had bought. Soon after that, tiredness compelled Raul to lie down and he quickly fell asleep. Marie did not lie with him but left the room quietly, choosing to lie on the meadow in a small park, not because she did not love him, but because she loved him so much.

***

For three days they were deep in the mountainous maze in North-eastern Spain. They led the black horse carefully along the narrow and winding paths amid the mountains. Light snow started to fall from the sky on the second day, making the ground wet and slippery. Raul was exhausted by the harsh conditions but he needed to concentrate in order to carry on.

The two of them were now resting in a cavern, one of the few places that were still dry and warm. The ceiling was high above them so that even the horse could comfortably stand inside the cavern. Crystal cones and cylinders hanged from the tall ceiling, bringing a dangerous yet mysterious aura. Lying on the hard ground and gazing at the crystals, Raul suddenly asked Marie, "Do you really believe that there is only total nothingness after death?"

Marie also stared at the crystals without looking at Raul and replied, "I do not know...No one knows. But I guess it is quite probable. I mean...there must be an end eventually."

"But you know Marie. It is sometimes quite hard for me to imagine a complete end where nothing exists...that's why most people believe in an afterlife. It is so hard to imagine or to admit a complete end." Raul turned his focus to the horse and continued, "A horse...Why am I a human but not a horse? Why am I Raul but not the impoverish woman in that market? I often thought about that when I was really small. It is strange, isn't it?"

"Maybe you will become a horse someday..." Marie said half-jokingly, half-imaginatively.

"That's what I've been thinking sometimes. Though I wish I could become a rabbit, hopping around the woods and digging tunnels," replied Raul amusedly.

"And I will make sure I will not harm you even if I become a wolf," said Marie.

They laughed casually. Raul stared at the crystals and stopped his casual laugh, "It is frightening, isn't it? Losing everything in this world and not knowing what comes afterwards..."

Marie stopped laughing and said, "It is...but I have a feeling that we will actually be all together. It is like...we will become nothing...but everything at the same time..."

Raul pondered Marie's words deeply and murmured, "Yea...become nothing and everything...we'll be reunited into nothingness..." He looked at Marie, not sure whether she could hear his soft murmuring.

They had finally left the mountainous region in North-eastern Spain after a week of challenging hiking. They had a stop at the outskirts of Barcelona, resting in an inn where high mountains still surrounded them. Raul could not help thinking that it was the birthplace of Ivanna. The days with Marie had kept him from being haunted by Ivanna. But from time to time, Ivanna would still creep into his mind when his eyes were closed but his consciousness was awake. Just like Julian and Ritav in Marie's mind, those who were dead were always in our heads.

Realizing Raul's exhaustion, Marie suggested that they should stay in Barcelona for a few more days. But Raul replied that he did not need a long rest, fearing that once he had stopped and lost his momentum, he would lose it forever. Raul knew that the quickest and easiest way to travel to the south was to move along the Eastern coast. It would take less than two weeks for them to reach the southernmost tip of Spain if they rode along the Eastern coast. But in that way, Raul would very likely pass through his hometown Valencia. The last place in the world that he wanted to go in this journey was his hometown.

So they passed through and had brief stops overnight at all cities and major towns along the Eastern coast except Valencia. Raul rode as fast as he could when he was passing through the outskirts of his hometown, fearing that seeing the familiar buildings and people would contaminate this immaculate journey.

After eleven days of smooth riding, they had reached the southernmost tip of the peninsular - a vibrant town called Gibraltar. Gibraltar itself is a narrow promontory cutting into the western edge of the Mediterranean Sea. Raul and Marie could smell the seawater and see all kinds of yachts and galleons in any part of the town. The British had been occupying the city for some years. British soldiers were marching neatly along the streets; their red uniform coats contrasted Raul's black coat. "Well, it is the southern end...after we cross the sea, we will be in Africa," said Raul, who could not believe that the distant continent was suddenly so close at hand.

"Raul, could we stop here for some more time?" said Marie. It was quite obvious that Marie was a bit reluctant to proceed with the journey. It was not because she feared the endless sand dunes, nor the sharp white teeth of the snake. The last few weeks were some of the happiest days of her life. These days might not be happier than her first incomparable sixteen years. But these days were another definition of euphoria. She treasured every single second; she treasured every word they spoke in the crystal cavern; she treasured the comfortable sea breeze that kissed her face when they were riding; she treasured the beautiful scenery of every coastal Spanish town when they stopped every dusk. Every moment was like the last few notes of a beautiful song, the last few bites of a delicious cake and she really did not want it to finish.

Raul understood Marie's sentiments quite well. He himself wanted the journey to last for weeks, months or even years more. He could not imagine himself going back to Valencia when he finally needed to depart with Marie eternally. But throughout the days, he kept trying to convince himself that there ought to be an end and it would come; he reminded himself that he was a mortal in those ancient legends, not a god who wandered aimlessly forever.

"But we are running out of money. If we stay longer, we may not have enough money to carry on to Africa," replied Raul, trying to convince Marie subtly. "I may find a job and earn a little bit..."suggested Marie. But Raul instantly rejected such an idea. Finally, the two of them agreed that they would stay in Gibraltar for two more days, looking at the interesting relief and listening to the calm waves, putting aside the future and past once again while the present is everything.

***

Raul was bargaining with a boatman in Spanish. It was a small yacht that was only about ten meters long but it could transport Raul, Marie and their horse safely. They could finally agree on a reasonable price. There were some stern-looking officers checking the arrival and departure of every boat and yacht. Fortunately, the procedures and standard of checking for departure were much more lenient than those for arrival. While nearly every boatman or captain arriving at the port was arguing with the stern officers about tariff and documents, the officers just had a brief check on the boats that were going to leave the port as if they wanted the boats to leave the town as quickly as possible.

In the afternoon, the boat could finally depart from the continent. It was the first time for Marie to sail across the sea. The boat was shaking a lot even though the water was not particularly wavy. As the land behind them was getting smaller and smaller until it turned into a green dot, uncertainty and slight delirium started to surge into Marie's head. It was not just the nausea in her stomach that bothered her; her whole body from head to toes was overwhelmed by anxiety. Raul was holding her tightly to relieve her anxiety while the boatman said that they were already half way through the trip as the land behind them almost disappeared.

"Welcome to Ceuta," the boatman announced after three hours of sailing. Raul could already clearly see a strip of land. He could obscurely see grey city walls on the land and some green mountains in the background. Marie could finally regain her usual serenity as the boat was approaching a port that was not very much different from the one in Gibraltar except for a long city wall that protected the coastline.

"Here is still Spanish territory," said the boatman, "but as you leave the city and go south, it will be the Arab territory."

Raul and Marie decided to stay at Ceuta for one or two days before beginning their final trip to the desert. They could still manage to find a place to stay and purchase goods that they needed as Spanish was still commonly used around the city. They were in Africa; it was different but certainly not alien to them. In fact, it was parallel to Gibraltar. Of course, the weather was drier and warmer than it was in Southern France, but it was not much different from that in Southern Spain. This applied to the culture as well. The people dressed and behaved very similarly to those in Southern Spain.

Outside the city of Ceuta, there were Arab or Berber travelers who rode on camels and held bags of goods. Raul realized that they must know the way of going deep into the desert. He tried to converse with them in Spanish. They seemed to understand him but none of them was quite willing to take him to the desert. When Raul asked whether it was because he did not have enough money, the experienced camel riders simply asked what Raul's purpose of going to the desert was. As Raul could not give a definite answer, all of them rejected his request firmly.

The only concrete advice that Raul got after wandering around in Ceuta for a few hours was to travel to Tangier \- a much larger town to the west of Ceuta which was under Portuguese control. There would be many more Arab camel travelers who might lead Raul to the desert. So Raul and Marie departed from Ceuta the next morning and rode to Tangier along a flat but dusty road. They rode along the coast swiftly and arrived at Tangier just before evening.

Tangier was crowded and noisy. And indeed, there were a lot of Arab and Berber traders. Despite the crowdedness of the streets, Marie, who had dark blonde hair that was not covered by a hijab, still attracted a certain amount of attention. Not long after they had found a place to settle down, Raul had met a boy three or four years younger than him. His name was Santiago and he spoke perfect Spanish. He used to be a shepherd in Southern Spain but now he worked in a shop in Tangier.

Santiago was very friendly and he was glad that he could meet an interesting person from his homeland. He treated Raul and Marie to some fine tea in a bar. Realizing Santiago's virtuousness, Raul whispered softly to Santiago about their intention to travel to the desert. Raul revealed that they were going to the desert to break a spell but he did not reveal anything else to Santiago, fearing that he would bring too much shock to him. Santiago did not question Raul about the spell. He did not regard Raul as a deceiver either as mystery and magic seemed not to be strangers to Santiago.

"I used to dream about travelling to the desert too...in fact...crossing all of them to reach the pyramids in Egypt," said Santiago dreamily. His eyes gazed at the cup of tea and continued, "But ever since I've come to Tangier, I've been working to earn more money...and I haven't continued to pursue my dream..."

He looked at Raul and said, "It would be difficult for you to find some camel riders to lead you to the desert. They rarely agree to do so...Moreover, your journey to break spells would sound very suspicious to them." He gave a causal laugh and continued, "But I will help you as much as possible. You must leave and travel to the desert by yourselves as soon as possible...for, the longer you stay, the less willing to go you will become...Actually, from my knowledge, there will be sand everywhere if you travel southwards. So if you keep going south, quite soon you will be deep in the desert."

Santiago advised Raul and Marie to sell some of their thick clothes to get some light-colored comfortable clothes suitable for the desert. He told Raul not to sell all the blankets though as the desert could be very chilly at night. Santiago had also found a man who was willing to exchange two camels for Raul's black horse.

"Will he treat the horse nicely?" Raul asked with concern as the horse had accompanied him faithfully for such a long journey. A certain sense of guilt arose in his heart as Raul had to abandon it despite its loyalty. Santiago laughed and said, "Don't worry. He is a compassionate man. He treats animals like his friends. It is funny as he asked me the exact same question just now. So you should also treat these two nicely."

So on the next day, Marie and Raul learnt to sit on the tall back of the camels, holding the hump on their back. Raul expressed his utmost gratitude to Santiago. Before he and Marie were leaving Tangier, he spoke the final words to Santiago with the greatest sincerity, "You've helped me so much to go to the desert. There is really no reason for you to stay behind without trying to reach the pyramids. You've told me that the longer one stays, the less willing to go one will become. You should go. You are young yet we never know how much time we still have. Wish you all the best." Seeing the two unique figures moving further and further on camels' backs, Santiago pondered Raul's words.

***

They had left Tangier for three days already. Indeed, as they travelled southward by following a compass that Santiago had bought for them, mostly there were only sand and dust. The sky was cloudless just as the one in Marie's vision; the sun was heating everything up during the day and leaving everything behind at night. However, they still had not reached the endless sand dunes in Marie's vision. There were still a lot of other things passing by or occupying the horizon. Occasionally, caravans passed by slowly as lines of camels proceeded beside them; a tanned Kasbah might appear on the horizon; they would sometimes come across wells around which a few families settled. The people there would offer Raul and Marie water even though they could barely communicate.

While most travelers would settle near such a well at night, Raul and Marie were not intimidated by the desolation of the desert at all. They would camp at the middle of nowhere. They tried to be away from any human settlement, enjoying the pure silence, contemplating millions of stars by gazing at hundreds of them. Marie would no longer try to find a place away from Raul to sleep. There was no reason to do so as the only living beings around her within miles would still probably be Raul and the two camels. More importantly, not knowing how many moments they still had together, the two of them wished to lie as closely as they could with each other. They shared their lasting warmth above the barren cold ground.

And tonight, the third night since they had left Tangier, was the same. Except for a Kasbah erecting in the distant background and a few decaying trees appearing obscurely, they could almost see endless sand dunes with an undisturbed horizon. "It might be the last night..." thought Raul, wondering if Marie realized the same thing. He had read the last page of the manuscript the previous night when Marie was soundly asleep. He had a rather solid idea of how to break the spell through following the vision.

Realizing that it would very likely be the last night, Raul wished to concentrate on and treasure the present. But he could not. He was worried about his remaining days without Marie. Ultimately, he had to confront the questions again as long as he was alive - where to go and what to do. He looked at her emerald eyes, hoping to seek refuge in her serenity.

Marie knew it might be her last night - the last night with Raul, the last night of having Julian, Ritav and all other shadows in her mind, the last night of breathing, hearing and feeling. Yet, different from Raul, she was calm and focused. She knew that she only had one final goal. Indeed, there were fear and uncertainty as always. But she told herself that she would pursue that goal.

"I can't concentrate..." Raul's honest words finally broke the silence of the sand. "I do not know what to do...where I should go..." His voice started to become shaky as he continued, "we did so much...I did so much...but it is finally that question again..." He looked away from Marie's eyes as he was holding back his tears, "What is the point? What is the meaning? I met you, but you will be forever gone! I wrote my poetry, but they will be forever forgotten! Everything is wasted! They shouldn't exist!"

Raul could not hold back his tears any more. Precious droplets irrigated the dry earth. Marie looked at the wet sand on the ground. She embraced Raul and softly whispered, "This embrace is short-lived. It will end. But it is here. It is warm. You're feeling it." She held him tightly as he let his tears flow.

As Raul had released all of his tears, Marie let go of the embrace and spoke, "Raul...remember the music you played for me the first night we met. They ended that night and no one will remember it when you, Besnik and I have all passed away. But you enjoyed playing it just as I enjoyed listening to it. The happiness at that moment was real. The words that we spoke under the crystal cave, the starry sky that we watched at the ancient remnant...they were all real. They can never last. But it doesn't matter. Nothing lasts. Why should it matter?"

She touched the sand on the ground gently and continued, "The pain from a man who was shot decades ago or the joy of a boy playing with a ball centuries later. They are all temporary and will cease to exist. But they do exist at that moment."

Raul realized how foolish he was. He looked at the sand and thought, "Marie understands everything so much better than me...even a person who is going to lose all is more determined than I am. I have no reason to feel hopeless and desolate." He whispered, "You're right. All things will cease. But they matter." He lighted a fire on this desolate barren ground amid the cold air. The fire was ephemeral. It would extinguish soon after they were asleep. But it was burning at that moment.

***

Marie climbed onto the camel's back possibly for the last time. She would probably do or see everything for the last time. A golden beam shone on her face as the sun rose from the horizon. She tasted the warmth. Fear and uncertainty were still accompanying her as she was getting closer and closer. She did not hide them or suppress them. But she still gave the sweetest smile to Raul when he looked at her. "Every look and sign matters now," she thought to herself.

Bouncing slightly on the camel's back rhythmically, gasping the dry air and sensing his weak heart, Raul was thinking about the last thing that he could do for Marie. The end was always crucial; it was the most intense. The ending of a play could be the ruin or savior of every plot that came before. "She should go without any regret. I should lessen her fear..."Raul murmured to himself and he knew what he should do. He was writing beautifully in his mind.

***

Endless sand dunes and cloudless sky...they were finally there. There was not a single plant or human settlement on the horizon in any directions. Marie jumped down from the camel's back as she knew it. "It will soon be sunset..."she murmured, "The orange sky is coming..."

"Are you fine?" Raul asked. Marie nodded but could not hide her uncertainty. "What...what should I do according to the manuscript?" Marie asked with an insecure voice; it was the first time she asked about the manuscript since they had arrived at the desert.

"Think about the end..."replied Raul a bit reluctantly, "Thinking it will bring the vision to reality..."

Marie sat down and tried to concentrate. "The end..." she whispered to her mind repeatedly but there were millions of other scattered worldly things preventing her from concentrating. The melody came to her mind as Raul played Echoes to the End once again, possibly for the very last time. The separate and clear notes once again unlocked the deepest part of her mind. She instinctively echoed the notes with her voice. Such transcendence and clarity...she figured it out. She figured out that the deepest part of her mind was also pointing towards the end.

Orange was poured into the sky as the sun descended slowly from the stage. "Everything is ready," thought Raul. A hissing sound. It did come, at that very moment as in Marie's vision. The snake was there, twisting and moving slowly towards them. It stopped about five meters away from them. Like the snake in Marie's vision, it had the same organized pattern on its skin, the same triangular head, the thin red tongue and sharp white teeth. It was always intimidating and terrifying. But Marie had to face it. It could be a sharp dagger, a roaring lion, a silvery bullet, a turbulent ocean or even an invisible but tormenting illness. They were all terrifying but had to be faced ultimately.

"Why is it not...coming towards me?" Marie said in a wobbly voice. Raul put down his guitar and said softly but firmly, "You have to face it yourself...you have to go for it. The final page of the manuscript mentions courage repeatedly. I guess...the end will only come to one when one is determined to face it." Marie gazed at the sharp white teeth; she remembered the sudden bite by them and the piercing scream that instantly followed in her vision. She hesitated.

She was gasping. "I have to...but I cannot...I cannot..." Marie said anxiously. The sunset was going to end and Marie's chance of the day would soon cease while she was still gazing at the sharp white teeth from a distance of five meters. Raul was the very last person in the world who wished Marie to leave. But he knew what he should do; he knew that Marie yearned for a final rest deep inside her mind despite her apparent uncertainty.

He decided to read out the poem that was written in his mind during the ride earlier that day. It was in French as it was written for Marie. He would read it very slowly as the words should accompany the whole process until she had totally left. It would give her the final courage and serenity, the ultimate state of mind that could bring perpetual salvation.

He read in the calmest voice to her ears.

"Lighter than feather,

Softer than sleep.

Trust me, my dear."

Marie held her breath and walked towards the snake. The snake did not sympathize with Marie's fear and was hissing louder. It was twisting more actively while staring at her emerald eyes with its red ones. She suppressed her natural instinct. She suppressed it with her determination and stretched out her arm in front of its thin red tongue and sharp white teeth. Marie closed her eyes as the triangular head and sharp white teeth were just centimeters away from her arm; the red eyes stared at the pale skin...

"AHHH!" A piercing scream stabbed through Raul's ears and then darted straight into the orange sky. Marie's wounded right arm was shaking. Her whole body was shaking. Raul walked closer to her. He saw the terrifying color created by the combination of purple vermin and red blood. Her face was paler than ever as the snake was twisting and retreating from her.

Raul supported her back as her powerless body was lowering slowly. She lay on the sandy ground. She had done it. Raul's heart sank but he told himself to stay focused so as to give her the greatest last moments. "I did it, Raul," said Marie as tears flowed from her eyes. Not sure that Marie was shedding tears of fear, tears of pain or tears of joy, Raul also shed tears uncontrollably. "Marie, you're so brave," said Raul. "You too, Raul...continue with the poem...read beside me..."she said faintly while gasping breathlessly.

Raul cleared his throat,

"Temporary amnesia,

To eternal oblivion.

But no regret, my dear."

All kinds of thoughts and memories were flashing in and out at an unprecedented speed while her breath was becoming weaker and weaker...The golden moments that she would want to go back to for a thousand times - the games that she played with Julian, the coastal breeze that she enjoyed with Ritav, the passionate music that Raul brought to her ears...The moments so painful that even experiencing them once was too much - the bite by the ravenous wolf in the forest, the torture on the rack by the frantic interrogator, the lethal vermin penetrating through her skin just now...Finally, all those gazes and stares that meant so much to her- Julian's fading light in his drowsy eyes, Ritav's final gaze at the ceiling...Laughs, screams, gazes, sounds, emotions...All of them flashed in and flashed out at an uncontrollable speed, letting her pass through decades of memories in just a dozen of seconds. "No regret, my dear..." such gentle words slipped into her ears again.

Raul continued with the poem,

"Dispersing into pieces,

Levitating to the air,

But no fear, my dear."

She was Marie. She tried to take another difficult breath. Her fading heartbeat...The heartbeat seemed to belong to Marie. But it also belonged to Julian, to Ritav, to Raul, to her mother and father...to everyone she knew. Her mind was breaking up as she became every one of them. No, not just the ones who she knew; she was everyone...A peasant in her homeland was occupying part of her dispersing mind; a new-born baby in a distant land was surging up in her mind; a running rabbit joined them...All those scattered pieces of consciousness...these pieces were levitating as the eyes were rolling upwards. Thousands of scattering pieces rose to the air, joining the orange sky as pure light was going to occupy everything.

"One final step,

You will be there,

I will be there,

Reunite in nothingness..."

The gentle words were fading away.

Powerful light. Complete darkness. Everything. Nothing.

_______

She was motionless. Raul closed her eye lids. He held her. He missed her. But he understood. A gust of wind...very strong whirlwind was coming while the sun had left completely and black had replaced orange. The whirlwind blew up piles of sand as it was approaching Raul and the body of Marie. Raul did not run away. He had anticipated it since such a whirlwind was stated in the last page of the manuscript.

The wind was bringing up all the sand around Raul. Raul closed his eyes tightly as he feared that the sand would get into his eyes. But he continued to hold Marie's body tightly. The force of the wind was so great that Raul had to lie down, turning his face towards the ground. Yet, the whirlwind did not let go of Marie's body. He tried to hold Marie's cold hand as tightly as possible, catching each of her fingers. But what must leave would eventually leave; the interlock of fingers could merely delay but not alter the fate. Raul's hand eventually slipped and let go of Marie's body. He could not turn his head up to see Marie's body as the severe wind compelled him to face down. He passed out.

_______

Fresh sun beam shone on his cheek. He regained his consciousness after twelve hours of dreamless blackout. He spat the dust from his mouth. He slowly opened his eyes. Not brown...it was green. Grass. He was lying on fresh grass. Raul slowly stood up. She was gone, as expected. Her body had completely vanished. But as Raul was gazing around him, he discovered that her ultimate disappearance had brought about a lot.

Trees, dozens of them, were in the middle of a desolate desert. Below the trees was fresh grass with dew and blossoming flowers. Raul very soon understood. He smiled. The life force that Marie had consumed throughout the years had returned, bringing new lives to the barren desert. He walked across this little forest. Rarely did he feel so rejuvenated. His heart disease could never be cured and he would die someday; yet the life force released from her had given him some spirit; he might live for a few months or even a few years more than he otherwise would. He walked to the edge of this little forest. This journey and companionship had ended. But perhaps new ones awaited him.

Epilogue

"Is Echoes to the End real? Does the melody really exist?" Robert asked me.

"Of course it is real, just as everything else in this story," I replied firmly.

I looked at his young curious eyes and continued, "It is in the deepest part of your mind. It is in my mind. It can also be between you and me."

I continued, "It might lead you to infinity as it also accompanies you to the end."

"What happened to Raul afterwards?" Robert asked.

Some said that Raul decided to look for the ancient immortal woman who gave Marie immortality and a few more immortal figures across the land. But he did not think of gaining immortality for even a single second. Instead, he tried to help them break the spell just as he had helped Marie.

Another saying was that Raul returned to his home in Valencia. Not being disturbed by his relatives, he wrote one beautiful poem after another, until he finally passed away peacefully a few years later. His poems were all washed away by the endless waves in the ocean of literature. And just like this tale, it sank deeply into the ocean and would never emerge to eyes of the future generations again. Raul became another poet who was drowned by this ocean of literature just like thousands of musicians engulfed by the ocean of music and thousands of artists buried by the ocean of paintings, unable to leave a tiniest mark on the land.

But one thing was unquestionable. That night, Raul walked away from this new little forest with a smile on his face and a smile in his heart. He has found it. He has found the one thing that lasts forever and the one thing that gives value to everything – the end.

Author's Note

I started to have the basic idea of this story in the summer of 2014. Throughout the next few months, the music that I listened to, books that I read, films that I watched and my real-life experiences added new elements and depth to this story. Indeed, a piece of mesmerizing music, a memorable scene of a film and a solitary walk under the moon always bring me new ideas.

My father passed away in early May 2015 after a battle against cancer that lasted for one and a half years. His final days, final moments and ultimately his death stimulated me both emotionally and philosophically. His death and whole battle against cancer also pushed me to write this story. So I spent the next two valuable months of summer holiday writing, channeling out my thoughts and emotions.

So here you are - a story with universal messages but also very personal to the writer at the same time. I sincerely hope that you will find my work engaging, unique and inspiring. And I hope that creativity and passion will never leave us.

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank:

My father, who is truly a life-long learner. His rationality inspires me as always.

My mother and sister, who give me time and space to follow my passion even amid difficult times.

Amy Tai, for being the very first reader of this novel and her dedicated editing.

Elson Ho, Christopher Cheung and Matthew Chiu, for their valuable advice after reading.

Jocelyn Wat, for her creative and professional cover design.

Joshua, Jenco, David, Lam, Jasper, Cosima, Cecilia, Jonathan, Timothy and many more friends, for their constant support and our mutual inspiration.

Pink Floyd, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Andrea Pirlo. These maestros have inspired me so much either consciously or subconsciously

You, for holding this book and willing to spend time to read it

Bobby Tam

Born in 1994 in Hong Kong, Bobby has spent nearly all of his life in that international city. He is currently an undergraduate in the University of Hong Kong, majoring in history and minoring in German. His interests include music, history, football, literature and films.

Bobby's mother tongue is Cantonese, but he prefers to write in English in order to reach an international readership. This is his first official novel that has been published. He has previously written some poems and novellas.

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bobbymozart

https://www.facebook.com/bobby.tam.4

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14391104.Bobby_Tam

