The Harvest of Souls

CHAPTER 14

ASTUR

08.01.8462 - 7:08 PM

Anna was by the round orange tiled fireplace. She was reading a small old book, sitting in a brown leather chair. Sometimes, the woman would stop and stare at passersby through the round window that looked out onto the sidewalk. She placed the small book on her thighs and sighed with her eyes closed, sensing something. The doorbell then rang the first notes of Little Night Music by Amadeus Mozart. Anna calmly opened her eyes, rose to place the book over the fireplace, and walked across the dining room to the front door.

Outside, a strikingly sized blonde lady, a long, flawless braid down to her thighs and a simple red dress, was waiting for Anna to answer the door.

Charlotte, through her centuries of life, developed the valuable ability to memorize the names of all important figures in every kingdom on the globe: from the regents to the prime ministers, if they existed, Ministers or Heads of the most important departments, military high-ranking, presidents of Institutes and political NGOs, and any other citizen who stood out among social mobilizations. In addition to their names, Charlotte had a dossier on each of the political protagonists. A series of documents fed by Fernanda and her closest group, the Rouges, served the Queen. That late afternoon, while one of her red cars drove her towards Anna's house, Charlotte tried to catch up on Anna, information that ranged from school records to personality and psychological profile.

"Hello, Charlotte," Anna said, opening the door. "Come inside," she said, opening space and indicating with her hand the interior of the dining room.

"Hello, Anna. Where can we talk?" Charlotte asked.

"At the library," said Anna.

Charlotte made a gesture with her right hand, pointing to the portal that led to the library. From her fingers came several bright blue strands, which dashed through the entire library and disappeared, burying in the walls and shelves.

"Do you really think my library is bugged?" Anna questioned, raising her left eyebrow.

"Anna, don't be naïve. Every place today is bugged, with so much technology and smart people, there are twelve-year-old teenagers capable of breaking into secret public systems and easily spying on anyone," Charlotte said.

"Wow, it must be terrible to be inside your head," said Anna. "Have you ever looked for professional help?"

Charlotte didn't bother to retort, and as she entered the library, she pointed a chair at Anna.

"Sit down too," said Anna.

"No, thank you, I prefer to stand," Charlotte said.

'Great, reducing me even more.' Anna thought.

"This will be an interrogation?" Asked Anna, snorting. "You know, in a movie I watched a few years ago, there was a killer in prison, being interviewed by a Junior Intelligence Analyst. The killer always stands up while the Analyst remains seated in a chair just in front of the cell. The director did that to demonstrate the superior power and intelligence of the serial killer in prison."

"Anna, please. This is not an interrogation, nor do I intend to diminish you," Charlotte said, a little discouraged. "Observe the way you and the rest of my nephew's allies treat me! You have no respect for me while most of this planet kneels and thanks me for everything I've done."

"But everyone forgets how you did it."

"That doesn't matter. Sacrifices are always necessary," Charlotte then began to recite a passage while scanning with her eyes the books on Anna's shelves while quoting: "there are two methods of fighting, the one by law, the other by force: the first method is that of men, the second of beasts; but as the first method is often insufficient, one must have recourse to the second. It is, therefore, necessary to know well how to use both the beast and the man," Charlotte stopped her search with her gaze and continued. "Ah, you have The Prince on your shelf. If you read it correctly, you must understand my actions perfectly," Charlotte went to the bookcase and picked up the slim book. "It was written several centuries ago to a distant relative of mine," for a moment, Charlotte seemed to ramble on her family stories.