Azriel Capoue - The secrets of Al

Chapter 11

"Aunt Liz...? Can you please help me with my hair?" I asked."Of course, darling. How do you like it? Grilled or fried?" she replied with a touch of humor.I chuckled briefly, "Grilled, please.""Excellent choice!" she said with a warm smile.Aunt Liz's smile was so genuine and heartwarming that it made me feel strangely elated, as though Icould stand on the roof and jump without worrying about the consequences. I felt the hairs on my skinstand on end and goosebumps on the back of my neck. There was something about this woman,something unusually – well, the good kind of unusual. Aunt Liz had the incredible ability to changesomeone's mood with just a smile, a supernatural power of sorts, not to mention her culinary skills. I hadthought it before, and I was thinking it again. Aunt Liz was like an angel pick out by my family from theother side to take care of me, my very own personal angel. Our, of course."I've got good taste," I mouthed.She went upstairs briefly and returned with a comb, a brush, and her cherished mirror. I noticed Mirabeleyeing me from the other side of the table as she caught sight of her mother with the mirror. Our eyesmet briefly, but we quickly averted them when Aunt Liz approached. My gaze wandered, searching forsomething to focus on, creating an unfounded sense of guilt.Aunt Liz handed me the mirror and positioned herself behind me, ready to help with my hair."So, what are we doing?" asked Aunt Liz."Wait, I thought you were grilling it?" Mira voiced out immediately."Uh-yeah, we were actually talking about your ears," I clarified.Our laughter filled the room.Mirabel played along, "Oh, then you should have involved me. Because, I like it grilled as well.""Well, your ears are with you, and there's firewood and charcoal in the storeroom – help yourself."Mirabel laughed briefly, shaking her head as if feigning disappointment. "Your jests need a lot of work,Az."I stuck my tongue out to tease her.I turned my attention to Aunt Liz after, "Um, Aunt Liz? I had originally wanted to put my hair in a neatponytail, but on second thought, I think it'd look better if I braided it instead. A new look for me, youknow?"Aunt Liz responded with confidence, "Say no more."The process of braiding my hair did take some time, but surprisingly, it didn't encroach on the schedule Ihad planned for my day, or my night.I wasn't acting out of defiance towards Aunt Liz, I just had to follow my instincts. I knew my choice woulddisappoint her, and the mere thought of what I was about to put them through weighed heavily on myheart. However, my need to uncover the truth about what was happening to me, as well as my family'stragic fate, was too strong to ignore.As I gazed into the reflective surface of the mirror, my eyes locked onto the familiar contours of my ownface, prompting a cascade of contemplation. Memories of my dear Father, the comforting presence ofMother, and the cherished moments shared with Azra flooded my mind. Each nuanced line and featurein my reflection seemed to evoke a vivid recollection of the past.In the midst of this introspection, a deep-seated yearning stirred within me. A profound sense of lossenveloped my thoughts, and a desperate wish emerged: if there existed any conceivable means toresurrect the departed figures of my life—Father, Mother, and Azra—I would seize that opportunitywithout a moment's hesitation. The weight of their absence pressed upon my soul, and the mirrorserved as a poignant portal to a realm where the echoes of their presence lingered."Do you like it?" Aunt Liz interrupted my thoughts after several minutes.I took a deep breath and adjusted the mirror to view my new appearance; the first time I had everbraided my hair. "Wow," I whispered in amazement.Aunt Liz lowered herself to meet my gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. "Do you like it?" sheasked again."Like? I love it," I responded with enthusiasm. "I'm not sure I'd ever undo this braid. I adore this newlook.""You could say that again," Mirabel chimed in. "You do look pretty, Az," she added with a kindcompliment."As pretty as you?" I inquired."Know your limits, alright?" Her deadpan delivery made me burst into laughter, and they both joined in."Forgive me, Mira, I didn't mean to overstep." I laughed, "Even Felix would attack me if he hears me saythis.""That little brat doesn't want to take someone his own size", Mira replied, and we laughed harder.Apparently, young Felix had discovered someone he believed to be the ideal life companion: Mirabel.The stroll back from Mr. Koebel's residence transpired in silence, as Mira and I were absorbed inreflection on the recent events involving us and the tutor. Abruptly, Felix intercepted Mira's path anddeclared his affection for her, stating, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world, so I want to marryyou..." Both Mira and I burst into laughter spontaneously.His assertion held no hyperbole; Mirabel was genuinely a masterpiece, appearing as though meticulouslysculpted by an artist of divine skill. It was as if the SOURCE himself had taken painstaking care in shapingevery facet. I had frequently marveled at the distinct allure of her eyes — a captivating shade of vibrantgreen that I had never encountered elsewhere. Those cat-like eyes possessed an allure so arresting that,in my estimation, one could discern her presence from a considerable distance, even amidst the shroudof the darkest nights.Yet, to focus solely on her eyes would be an injustice to the overall harmony of her features. Mirabel'sflawlessly contoured pointed nose, inviting lips, and impeccable teeth each contributed to the symphonyof her appearance. Every detail played a role, coalescing into a breathtaking entirety. It was undeniable;she possessed an innate grace that extended beyond mere physical beauty. In essence, Mirabel seemedto embody a rare fusion of aesthetic perfection, leaving an indelible impression on those fortunateenough to behold her."Thank you, Aunt Liz," I said."You're welcome, dear. It's already getting late. We should have dinner. Mira, how are we doing?""It's ready, Mother," Mira replied.Mira had taken charge of the cooking for the night, which, in my opinion, couldn't have come at a worsetime. I sighed and shook my head slightly. This evening was crucial for me to savor Aunt Liz's cookingbefore my impending departure, or secret escape, whatever it may be. I needed that extraordinary flavorto fill me up that night. While I wasn't assuming it would be my last meal of her cuisine, I still yearned forthat taste. I knew I'd become a bit of a glutton under her culinary influence, and it didn't take long for itto happen. I craved her flavors tonight, but the little rascal had disrupted my grand plan.*I hope your meal tastes terrible, Mira! * I thought with a tinge of bitterness.I gave her a wild glare as she placed a piece of meat on my plate. The aroma was instant, piercingthrough my senses as if it had already taken up residence in my nose.Oh, wow. That actually smells delicious. I couldn't help but admit. However, I refused to let the scentalone fool me. I whispered to her, albeit in my own mind, I'm sure it's going to taste terrible-- secretlyhoping she heard my unspoken words.I suspected she had, given the frown and glare she directed my way almost instantaneously.The sight of the dish made my mouth water as I gazed down at it. The grilled steak appeared slightlycharred, but not excessively so. I found myself contemplating the delectable juices contained within,pondering the potential flavors that would unfold upon contact with my palate.Mira had prepared a meat meal, and my hunger was undeniable, making me impatient to sink my teethinto that piece of steak. At the same time, a hint of reluctance nagged at me.I sighed out of exhaustion due to the flux thoughts in my head.Well, I hope this doesn't poison me – I finally said when I was ready to pounce.----------------------------------------I sat by the window in my room, gazing outside, lost in my thoughts. The night was exceptionally dark,with only the moon's feeble light casting a dim glow over the open fields. I had a long journey ahead ofme to catch the train to Tarkwa.As I contemplated the upcoming trip, I could hear and feel my heart pounding forcefully against mychest, all due to the decision I had firmly resolved to carry out. It (my heart) knew, just as I did, that I hadmade up my mind.Nineteen kilometers for someone who relied on a shillelagh to walk? I scoffed inwardly.I'll prove that determination can truly move mountains.Traveling towards the main city to catch a train at its station would likely be a shorter and potentiallysafer route. However, this would compromise the speed at which I aim to reach Tarkwa. Trains departingfrom the main city typically traverse through numerous towns in Ωdegaard—perhaps not all, butcertainly most of them. This extended journey is bound to consume a significant amount of my time,which is not in alignment with my desired expediency.I closed my eyes and drew in a silent, deep breath. The realization settled within me— it was time. I wasconvinced that by now, everyone had retired to their rooms, most likely for at least an hour and a half,and were presumably in deep slumber. Or, at least, that was my hopeful assumption.I meticulously curated my outfit for the journey, opting for a selection that had perpetually been acherished manifestation of my fantasy. The ensemble exuded a captivating, gothic-inspired allure,featuring a profound, dark black kirtle that endowed me with an intriguing sense of mystery. The dressgracefully cascaded to the ground, its silhouette accentuated by long sleeves that seemingly swallowedmy arms, and culminating in a hood at the back. This meticulously crafted attire not only captured mypersonal style but also embraced a narrative of mystical refinement. I'd decided I would need to changeinto a more suitable and fitting attire once I boarded the train. The ensemble I had donned was intendedto project an unapproachable image to everyone as I ventured along the dark and desolate road.After preparing myself, both physically and mentally, I carefully descended the stairs, though movingdown silently proved to be quite the challenge. My shillelagh and the heels of my boots seemedoblivious to the idea of discretion. The sound they created against the wooden stairs resembled acarpenter hard at work on a bustling day. Nonetheless, I managed to descend without awakeninganyone, or so I hoped. I placed the note I had been crafting on the dining table, gave a last glance aroundthe interior, and then proceeded towards the door.I closed my eyes resolutely and took a deep breath, attempting to steady myself. While I feignedindifference, my hands betrayed a subtle tremor. It wasn't the prospect of returning to my formerresidence that instilled fear in me, at least not immediately. In that moment, what unsettled me was theimpending journey from the house to the train station—a night walk spanning nineteen kilometers.Positive... Positive -- I whispered to myself and let out a sigh.I extended my hand towards the doorknob and delicately turned it, allowing the door to swing open.The cold, desolate night air rushed aggressively into my eyes as I stepped out of the house. It felt asthough a hundred needles had simultaneously pierced my eyes. I quickly shut them tight, the frigid airhad instantly dried them. To alleviate the discomfort, I had to rub them with intensity until tears welledup. Gradually, I reopened my eyes. My vision was slightly blurred, but I could continue... I could moveforward.And so, my journey had begun.An hour and a half, perhaps even two, had elapsed since my departure, and I was convinced that noteven a quarter of the journey lay behind me. The night enveloped me with an eerie coldness and aprofound silence, so palpable that I could discern the rhythmic cadence of my own heartbeats. Mythoughts resonated in the stillness, creating an illusion of self-dialogue, as if I were engaged in a literalconversation with myself.I proceeded at a deliberate pace, a notable checkpoint still eluding me, and with each step, regret for mydecision intensified. "You can't do this... You can't do this. I can't do this," my thoughts lamented,succumbing to the weight of anxiety. The realization dawned that convincing myself I could was amisguided assurance. My heart raced in an uncontrollable frenzy, and I found myself panting and gaspingfor air. Pausing to catch my breath only exacerbated the situation. My chest seemed incapable ofmatching the rapid pounding of my heart, as if it were struggling to contain the intensity, as though myheart sought an escape, threatening to rupture my chest. Gasping for breath, I strained to draw air intomy lungs. When I redirected my gaze toward the house, it appeared as a faint silhouette in the distance.A sudden weakening of my strength overcame me, and I sensed myself descending into a fall, my visionsuccumbing to darkness.---------------------------------------------------I convulsively shook and gasped for air before forcing my eyes open. "Wh--what happened?" Imurmured, turning my head in both directions as I surveyed my surroundings. I was lying on the ground,on my back, and the night was still shrouded in darkness."Did I... go unconscious?" I anxiously mumbled to myself.Suddenly, a mysterious voice cut through the air and reached my ears, distinct from the echoingthoughts that had plagued me earlier. I pushed myself up to a sitting position, my eyes darting aroundapprehensively until they landed on a dark figure emerging gradually from the shadows.My heart raced immediately, my breath grew shallow, and my hands and legs, and my entire bodytremored in response. It was always my heart that initiated the panic, as if it led the way in raisingalarms."Don't – don't come any closer!" I yelled, swiftly grabbing my cane and using it to push myself to my feet."Who are you?" I demanded, my mind racing as I considered my options. I knew I couldn't outrun thisperson, and I certainly couldn't win in a physical confrontation. My alchemical abilities were inaccessible,and even if I attempted to use them for defense, I risked injuring myself. These thoughts ran through mymind in the blink of an eye."I hope he's not dangerous," I thought uneasily."Hmm... dangerous...? Yes, let's hope not, Azriel," he responded.My throat tightened, and I coughed nervously, sensing questioning interaction. The realization struck mewith a jolt—did he hear my thoughts? I had never spoken those words aloud."Yes, he did. And you seem less concerned that he knows your name," he remarked, as if he had theauthority to dictate my concerns.The dual revelation unsettled me though, the fact that he could hear my thoughts, and that he also knewwho I was.My assumption veered toward him somehow spying on us, perhaps explaining how he knew my name.I maintained a steely gaze and a composed expression as my mind raced with thoughts of this manpotentially harming me. I wasn't sure how my heart hadn't exploded yet, as I could feel its relentlesspounding reverberate through every part of my body—my head, the corners of my eyes, my throat, myknees. However, it was my chest that bore the brunt of its assault, and I feared its inner walls might crackunder the pressure."Azriel Capoue... I'm not here to hurt you," he claimed.My eyes involuntarily widened when I heard him use my full name."Azriel" didn't really concern me to that degree; it was the mention of "Capoue" that sent shivers downmy spine.How did he know my last name? It had been eight years since I had ventured outside, and yet, someoneimmediately recognized me. Aunt Liz's warning echoed within my mind, and I realized she'd been right allalong. They had been waiting for me, just as she had feared."Why are you here? What do you want?" I stammered, my voice quivering.He sighed with exasperation, "I warned you not to use alchemy until you've secured my journal. Now webest hope Egon didn't feel your presence. He's going to be a massive nuisance if he comes after you.""What...! I don't understand what you're talking about. I don't know what you're saying," I protested,utterly baffled. I was certain I had never met this man before, and I had no knowledge of the Egon hementioned. "Please... just, let me go."With a heavy sigh, he insisted, "Enough of this. Wake up and move forward!"His words, spoken gently but with commanding authority, echoed in my ears. I forcefully opened myeyes, finding myself laying in the middle of nowhere, I had fallen asleep on the bare grounds of the field.I took a deep sigh."That – that was a dream...? It felt so real... and, odd," I thought, trying to shake off the disconcertingexperience.I stood to my feet in a moment.I was aware that I had wasted too much time, and I needed to continue my journey. Strongly hoping Iwouldn't miss the train when I arrive.