1001 Cranes | ✔

Step Three

When Stephen first met Alice, she was eighteen.

     Now she's twenty-five.

     Their relationship is different than before. Perhaps it's always been different, but he doesn't ever acknowledge that it is until now. Although Alice claims that Stephen is her eternal servant, she never treats him like one. She's stubborn and she's most likely the one to initiate bickers with him, but she's never dictated his actions — not once throughout the years that they've known each other. Stephen does have errands to run and chores to tend to, but they're not impossible tasks that intend to distress.

     No one showers their servant with gifts like Alice does. No one tells their servant beautiful and tragic stories about the world like Alice does. No one takes their servant fishing or to the markets or stargazing like Alice does. No one shares memories and secrets and hopes and dreams with their servant like Alice does.

     No one.

     Her magic has bound them together in more ways than one, but by this point it doesn't even matter anymore.

*~*~*  

One day, she's gone.

     Before vanishing from the face of the planet, Alice claimed she would be visiting the markets before stepping out into the world. However, as nighttime approached, she never came back. All of her belongings have disappeared along with her, as if they never existed. While searching for her in a turmoil of panic, Stephen discovers a note attached to one of his drawers.

     It's a note from Alice.

     With furious haste, he snatches the note up. His eyes dart over the inky scrawl presented before him. They read:

     Stephen,

     If you're reading this, I am gone. I lied to you about visiting the markets, and I've lied to you about so many other things, but right now I must escape. Someone is after me. I can't explain everything right now, it's all too much to explain in this one note, but I will not be coming back. I can't come back, it's too dangerous to come back. I'll try to someday, but it won't be soon. It might be months, perhaps even years, before you hear from me again. I know I'm asking for a lot, and I know I'm hurting you for leaving, but I need you to do something for me. I need you to look after the monastery for me. I can only depend on you to do that. As of now, this the best that I can do. I need you to be safe, and in order to have you be safe, I must go away.

     I'm sorry.

     - Sincerely, Alice Heartlock

     Stephen drops to his knees. His eyes are blown wide. The note slips from his hands and flutters to the floor. He's numb. His mind is muddled, hazy with rumbling storm clouds.

     For the next several days, he's apathetic. Distant. Indifferent. Nothing matters. Barriers are built around him to ward off anyone that's not Alice. He carries out his new duties as the new priest like a walking doll. His sleeping hours are reduced for work. Every time he goes out to run an errand or perform a list of chores, he's constantly wearing a cloak over his horns and robes that conceal his claws. No one else knows who he is, no one but Alice, and now she's not here anymore. He is the only one familiarized with her routines, he is the only one who can serve in her place. If anyone were to find out that the new priest is a demon, the irony of the news would spread like wildfire.

     He hates that Alice is in some form of trouble and can do nothing about it. He doesn't know where she is, doesn't know if she's been sleeping underneath a roof, doesn't know if she's eaten - he doesn't know, he won't know, and he loathes himself for not knowing because he needs to know.

     He needs to know if she's okay.