Chapter Text
The old wooden desk was so full of papers that some of them were spilling over the edges. So many documents, reports, old newspapers with news articles, and even letters detailing all those events that you wanted to use as irrefutable proof to confirm all those rumours that, to you, were nothing more than idle gossip.
You had to write a report that was 100% true if you didn't want your reputation to be tarnished again. The truth is, you should not have believed that woman's testimony when she told you about that strange event that had happened in her life. If you had investigated more thoroughly before informing the sorcerers to deal with the supposed supernatural entity that was stalking and disrupting her life, you would not be in this situation.
If you hadn't been fooled by her grief and the urgency in her voice, perhaps your record as an informant would not have been called into question, but it was too late and now your word had lost some of its credibility in the ears of the most powerful sorcerers.
So many years of hard work had gone down the drain because of the malice of that woman who just wanted attention. You could tell she was mentally unstable and that lying was the only thing she knew how to do.
You sighed and lazily reached out to take another letter from the pile on the desk. You had spent the afternoon reading testimonies and requests for help due to suspicions of supernatural or unexplained events, but none of them caught your attention. If you wanted your position as an informant to be as good as it used to be, you had to find a case of great value.
You tossed the letter you had picked up onto a corner of the table when one in the pile caught your eye, and not because of its neat and excellent presentation, but quite the opposite. The envelope had an antique texture, and the almost beige colour of the paper seemed strange to you. How could its appearance suggest that it had been there for a long time when you had just picked it up from the post box that morning? Had the postman made a mistake?
You frowned, surprised not to see the sender's name anywhere on the envelope. When you opened it, you found a clear and concise letter, the content caught your attention. The handwriting was fine and elegant, traced onto the paper with impeccable delicacy, as the ink from the pen had not smudged or faltered when marking its strokes.
“Who still uses ink and quill nowadays?” you muttered to yourself. It didn't matter, you didn't even give these superficial, albeit important, details about the letter a second thought. The only thing on your mind was that you had found your case, the perfect case to regain your status. Not because that position was what you longed for, but because of the money it brought you, the money that had helped you get ahead, with which you had earned your freedom and happiness. Well, maybe not the latter.
After reading the last line of the letter, your eyes fixed on the signature, where the ‘N’ stood out in a sophisticated but shaky stroke, as if the sender had hesitated to write it.
To your regret, you couldn't send someone else to investigate the place, as that was a privilege you had lost, so it was up to you to go there and do it yourself.
*
**
***
The carriage swayed along the uneven, rocky road. Your hands gripped the handle tightly, afraid of falling to the floor due to the violent shaking. The crash of thunder made you click your tongue. Soon the heavy rain, which had been heralded by the reflection of lightning on the carriage windows, began to beat down on it.
You opened the small window that separated the interior of the carriage from the front, where a man was directing the horses pulling the vehicle.
“Don't you think we should stop?” you asked, a little afraid that you would not reach your destination alive.
“Impossible!” he exclaimed, almost shouting so that you could hear him over the noise of the heavy rain.
You almost gasped when you saw the sharp bend next to a ravine at the bottom of the hill where water was falling like a small waterfall. You looked at the man in panic, although he couldn't see you because his back was turned to you.
“Listen to me. Stop the carriage right now. Do you want us to die?”
The man laughed mockingly. “Miss, don't you want to reach your destination?”
“I want to get there alive! So I'm asking you to stop right now. We can continue when the weather improves.”
The man did not stop. “The weather never improves here. It doesn't matter what day, time or season it is. So let me do my job and keep quiet.” Turning around, he closed the small window in your face so you wouldn't bother him.
“You're mad!” you shouted, before sitting back down and praying to all the gods known and unknown.
After an intense journey in which you feared for your life at the hands of this unstable man, the carriage finally stopped and you breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally,” you whispered.
You pulled back the curtains and looked out at a gloomy, depressing landscape where the rain showed no sign of letting up. The man opened the window again. “You've reached your destination, miss. You can get out now.”
“Do you have an umbrella I could borrow?” Your question made him smile cynically.
“Miss, get out of the carriage. I have to leave.”
Before you could protest, the man had already climbed down from his seat and opened the door for you to get out. “Are you afraid of water? A city lady should get used to bad weather.”
“Hey, what do you know about where I come from?” The man's expression turned irritated and he grabbed your arm, pulling you out of the carriage. A gasp escaped your lips as you felt the cold water soak into your body.
Your suitcase hit the floor after being thrown by the man, causing some of your things to fall out when it opened. You quickly went over to put them back in and close the suitcase while exclaiming. “You know I'm going to file a complaint.” You turned around furiously to face him, raising your finger to point at him. “And you should know that-” Your eyes widened in disbelief when you saw that no one was there anymore. You hadn't heard him leave. How was that possible? You couldn't even see the carriage driving away in the distance.
The surroundings consisted of old stone and brick houses, their windows broken and the lack of light inside confirming that no one lived there. The trees in their small gardens looked weak and sparse with leaves. The few leaves that remained were blown away by the heavy rain, exposing the branches, and the roots of some of them had broken through the ground and seemed to cling to the surface in an attempt not to be blown away.
Your body shivered with cold, and grabbing your suitcase, you set off in search of the address you needed to go to. You walked through the streets of the abandoned village until you reached what seemed to be the end of it, where a narrow dirt road led through some enormous trees, which prevented you from seeing what was on the other side.
Luckily, the road was one-way, so you didn't have to worry about getting lost. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a black shadow moving quickly towards you among the trees. When it was just a few metres away, it took the form of a wolf with jet-black fur and intense silver eyes. You didn't stop, it wasn't going to attack you, you could sense that. Even so, the animal followed you through the trees.
At a certain point, you noticed how the wolf stopped abruptly, tensed its body, and looked towards the end of the path with its ears back, growling. You continued on, leaving the animal behind, which, seeing you walk away, whimpered sadly.
Leaving the leafy trees behind, you came across a huge mansion. Its exterior seemed to be better preserved than that of the small abandoned village. If it weren't for the rain, which hadn't stopped for a moment, you might have been able to notice some of the blue and gold colours of the ornaments adorning the windows. But the sky covered with dark clouds only made the surroundings look dull and sad, bathed in grey.
You approached the mansion's gate and, finding it open, entered through the smooth stone pavement. You climbed the few steps leading to the mansion's door and knocked, using one of the heavy iron knockers on it. The sound echoed both outside and inside, and you waited for someone to open the door, hoping that all this was not some kind of cruel joke.
The door creaked as it opened and you prepared to say hello, but there was no one there. “Great,” you muttered before entering. You left your suitcase inside after closing the door and looked around, hoping to find someone, but everything was empty. The elegant lobby lacked any decorations or elements that would describe it as such, as if the owner of the mansion didn't bother to make the place cosy.
You stood still, listening for any sound that might alert you to the whereabouts of the owner or perhaps someone who could show you around this enormous house, but you heard nothing. So, with a little initial hesitation, you walked a few metres up two identical staircases, one on the left and one on the right of the lobby, which led in opposite directions within the mansion. Without thinking too much about it, you climbed the stairs on the left, where, upon reaching the top step, an endless corridor covered with a deep red, almost crimson velvet carpet stretched out before you. The gold embroidery formed an intricate and elegant pattern of floral motifs.
You wandered down the long corridor where old paintings hung on the pristine white walls. In them, the portraits of a couple of people had been drawn with the skill and precision of an expert painter. You would have liked to admire the faces if it weren't for the fact that they were smudged, as if someone's hands had been responsible for doing so, hiding the identity of the people portrayed from those who wanted to admire the paintings.
You turned the knobs on some of the doors to investigate the interior of those rooms, but to your disappointment, most were empty or contained wardrobes and objects covered with white sheets.
You began to doubt that the letter you had received weeks earlier was real, but your doubts were dispelled when you saw a warm light illuminating a room at the end of the corridor, whose door was ajar. As you approached, you heard the crackling sound of burning wood, probably in some kind of fireplace that you could not yet see.
You stopped in front of the door, sensing someone's presence in the room. You knocked softly, announcing your arrival. In the small but cosy room, which seemed tiny compared to the grandeur of the mansion, the man you assumed to be the owner of the mansion was sitting near the fire. The armchair in which he was sitting was turned towards the door, as if he were patiently waiting for you to enter.
His intense gaze was fixed on you from the moment you opened the door until your eyes met his. The swaying movement of the flames caused a dance of shadows and flashes on his delicate, pale face. His features were further accentuated by his dark blue and black clothing. His elegant white hair, which looked like the reflection of the moon, was extremely long, falling over his shoulders and tied back almost at the end in a low ponytail. There was no doubt that he was a truly handsome man, the most handsome you had ever seen in your life.
A hint of realisation flashed across his eyes as he looked at your completely wet clothes and hair and how they clung to your body and face. “It seems I forgot to warn you in my letter about the bad weather here, I must apologise.” He pointed with his hand to another armchair near the fire at the other end of the room. “I've been waiting for you, miss.”
“Are you Mr. N?” you asked as you sat down in the armchair. Your body leaned towards the fire in search of warmth. “My apologies for the intrusion. I knocked on the door, but no one answered.”
“Don't worry,” he said in a conciliatory tone. “And yes, it was me who wrote to you. Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Neuvillette and, as you may have guessed, I am the owner of this place.”
“What made you contact me?”
He let out an inaudible sigh. “News of your work has reached my ears. I know you are merely an intermediary and that your power is not up to the task. Even so, it is the easiest way to reach the sorcerers,” he explained.
Your suspicions grew. How was that possible? You hadn't seen a single soul anywhere, the village was deserted, and his huge mansion was lifeless. It was clear that he was the only one there, so how did that information reach his ears? Perhaps during a visit to another village?
“I understand. I am willing to offer you my help, but to do so, you must tell me what is happening.”
“You see, the village is cursed. Damned, I would say. The souls of the former inhabitants continue to wander, lamenting during the long nights.” He settled himself more comfortably in his seat. “Several attempts have been made to repopulate it, to restore the joy it once possessed, but it has proved impossible.”
“I haven't seen these souls you speak of on my way here.” You said, a little suspiciously.
“Please call me by my name,” he clarified before continuing. “You'll see them soon if you stay here for a while.”
You nodded. In some cases, you had investigated the events that witnesses told you about, and they did not happen until some time later, so you could not deny his testimony. “How long have you been living here, Neuvillette?” You pronounced his name, as he had given you permission.
You could see his gaze soften when he heard you say his name, but he quickly hid it. Not knowing if you had imagined it, you blamed it on the tumultuous light of the fire reflecting on his face. You brushed back a few strands of hair that had stuck to your face and, lowering your gaze slightly, you noticed with surprise how Neuvillette's hands were clenching the armrests of the armchair with a strong, almost nervous grip.
“For as long as I can remember,” he replied simply.
“Then you'll remember what happened in the village.”
He nodded. “It's due to a series of events, all strange and unrelated, as far as I can tell. If I could find the link that connects them, maybe, just maybe, this place could regain its peace.” His eyes scanned your face before turning away towards the fire. “In the past, the village suffered an epidemic. Many doctors and experts visited to save its people, but there was no solution.” The knuckles of his hands turned white from clenching the armrest so tightly, and although the gesture indicated a certain anger or frustration in him, his face revealed no emotion.
“I would like to tell you that they all died because of the disease that spread, but unfortunately for everyone, it did not take them, it kept them alive. They writhed in pain and agony, their screams and cries, the same ones their souls now emit, were a constant feature of the days and nights of that time. That is why it was decided to seek a slightly more unusual form of help.”
“Like witchcraft.” You affirmed, and he nodded in agreement.
You jumped at the sound of thunder. You didn't notice, but Neuvillette twisted the corners of his lips slightly, creating a straight line that was a smile on his face, but one that no one could describe as such. He cleared his throat. “Are you afraid of thunder, young lady?”
“No, of course not. It's just that they sound too loud in this place.” Your body began to shake slightly, it was obvious that the fire was not enough to warm your frozen body beneath your wet clothes.
“If you don't mind, we can continue talking about this another time. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold.” He got up from the armchair and offered you his hand, which you politely accepted. “Forgive my manners, I haven't had visitors in a long time and it seems I've lost my skill in attending to you properly.”
Once standing, he let go of your hand and took a step back, not wanting to invade your personal space. “Allow me to offer you a hot bath, or you might catch a cold.”
“That would be very kind.”
You left the room and he guided you through the corridors you had walked through earlier.
You suppressed your immense curiosity to find out and ask him what had happened to those paintings with the erased faces, but you didn't want to stir up something that would cause tension between you so soon. After all, if your intuitions were correct, this case would restore your former reputation.
After a winding journey through corridors and staircases, you entered a room that you sensed was his. Unlike the previous room, this one was much larger, but also colder. The bed was located on the wall opposite the door, where its canopy was wrapped around carved columns covered in burgundy velvet curtains and white sheers.
The brown furniture, gleaming with varnish, contrasted sharply with the beige floor, in which you could see your reflection. Everything was decorated and well cared for, every corner, object, cushion and candlestick. It was very different from the other rooms you had seen in the mansion.
“You can settle into this room.”
You looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure? I think this is too much for me. Besides, I thought this was your room.”
“I insist.” Pointing with his hand in an elegant gesture, he spoke. “There is a bathroom behind that door.”
You thanked him for his courtesy. “Take your time, miss. I'll bring your suitcase, and when you're ready, we can have dinner.”
Neuvillette closed the door behind him, leaving you some privacy. With a small sigh, you stepped further into the room. You didn't know why, but Neuvillette's presence was too imposing and intense for you. Despite his calm and patient attitude, there were small details that made you keep your guard up. Perhaps you were being overly suspicious.
You hurried into the bathroom, where you filled the bathtub with hot water and, after undressing, sank under the water, warming your frozen body instantly. You relaxed for a moment, closing your eyes, and the rain beating against the window made the moment even more pleasant. Candlelight flooded the room with a warm glow, and when one of the candles went out, you sat down in the bathtub. You tried not to think too much of it, but the sound of the wind whistling through the small space in the window made you feel uneasy.
The small flame of another candle flickered again, and you hurried to finish your bath before the room was plunged into complete darkness. Your skin prickled as the water cooled. The wind whistled once more, this time louder, making the window frame rattle. You closed your eyes as you rinsed your face, and feeling a tingling sensation on the back of your neck, as if the incredibly soft touch of fingertips was playing a trick on you, you jumped up immediately and turned around, hoping to find something. You found nothing, so you got out of the bath and took a towel from one of the cupboards and wrapped it around your body, which still had a little soap on it. However, you didn't want to go back into the water.
You left the bathroom with your hair still wet and, back in the room, you noticed your suitcase at the foot of the bed. You hadn't even heard Neuvillette come in and leave it there.
On a sort of dressing table with a mirror, there was a brush, which you picked up to comb your hair. You couldn't help feeling how strange it all was. Everything seemed to be perfectly prepared and arranged, perfectly for you. You shook your head to dispel that idea. Perhaps Neuvillette was a man who liked to be prepared. It was obvious that after receiving his letter you would come to investigate the place, so his wait would eventually be interrupted by your arrival. You sat watching your reflection in the mirror, still combing your hair.
You heard a slight knock on the door and Neuvillette's voice asking permission to enter, to which you replied, “Come in.”
Upon entering, his eyes fixed on you and your body still covered by the towel. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready, if you wish.”
“Of course, let me finish getting ready.”
“I'll wait for you outside.”
Before he could leave the room, you asked him, “Neuvillette, how did you know I would come?”
“I didn't know,” he said, closing the door behind him.
. . .
The cutlery clinking softly against the crockery filled the candlelit room, as the huge windows were hidden behind thick, deep blue velvet curtains. With every spoonful you brought to your mouth, you suppressed the question you were so desperate to shout out loud.
When Neuvillette's eyes met yours, your words came out. “What happened to the paintings in the mansion?”
His peaceful face wrinkled slightly as his gaze hardened. “Miss, I would like to answer you, but the answer is not a pleasant one.”
“I can imagine.” You wiped your mouth with your napkin, a gesture that made his eyes fix on your lips fleetingly. “Even so, I would like to know the answer.”
“Miss, you lack caution, and that is dangerous.” He put his cutlery down on the table, finishing his dinner. “Sometimes, knowing more than you should only makes you wish you knew nothing.” Neuvillette got up from the table and walked confidently towards you, offering his hand, which you accepted. “It's late, and you've had a long and exhausting journey. I'm sure you're looking forward to some rest.”
You did not insist further, and although his words made you feel worried, they did not dampen your desire to know.
*
**
***
The following days were long and fruitless. The only thing that had increased was your suspicion of Neuvillette, his strange behaviour, his evasiveness when you asked questions, and the strange events in the mansion. Despite his complacent attitude towards you, his eyes hid secrets and mysteries that you didn't mind drowning in to find the truth.
Every morning before you left the mansion to investigate the village, Neuvillette accompanied you to the gates that marked the entrance to the mansion and the beginning of the path to the forest. He did not seem willing to accompany you, saying that he ‘did not want to interfere with your investigations’ or that his presence might ‘scare away’ the entities in the area, which would delay your work. Even so, every time you returned to the mansion, you found him waiting patiently for your arrival at the same entrance. Every time he saw you return, his shoulders seemed to drop a little in a gesture of relief. The only thing you could rely on to understand Neuvillette were his gestures and non-verbal language, as his face was so expressionless that it frustrated you.
It wasn't until the fourth day of your stay that you saw a supernatural being wandering around the abandoned village. It didn't approach you, hiding behind the rubble, the undergrowth, or anything else that could conceal it slightly. Futile, in your opinion, as its head was completely visible, watching you. It's also true that this seemed to be its intention, to make you aware of its presence.
The faintly visible spectre was small in stature, like a child. It was completely covered and hidden under a purple cloak with gold trim, a symbol of elegance that would have been more noticeable if not for the stains and tears in the delicate fabric.
Now you could only be patient, waiting for the moment when the entity itself would approach you. On the second day of its appearance, when you failed to get it to approach you, you set off on your way back to the mansion, but you did not have time to enter the forest when it appeared in front of you, blocking your path.
“So you want me to stay,” you said tentatively, your voice muffled by the rain beating down on your umbrella, yet the entity heard you. Shaking its head in refusal caused you to frown. One of its hands appeared from under its cloak and it raised it, pointing behind you. Instinctively, you turned your head and in an instant felt a strong push that knocked you off balance. You gasped and tried to cushion your fall to the ground with your hands, but your eyes widened in surprise as you saw the cobblestones on the ground separate and fall into a deep black hole of immeasurable depths. A tingling sensation ran through your limbs as a wave of chills washed over you, forming a knot in your stomach as you saw the long fall that awaited you.
Your body was about to fall into the strange hole when an intense gust of wind came out of it, tinged with black and somewhat bright reddish hues. A bright red body enveloped your body and you fell backwards onto the hard ground. By the time you managed to push it away with one of your many hand movements, the rain had stopped. You felt the warmth of a ray of sunshine on your cheeks and looked up at the sky, which had been completely clear of clouds and rain since you had arrived here.
The silence was broken by the hustle and bustle around you. To your surprise, the village had changed completely. It looked well cared for, with no rubble or weeds. The trees were lush and full of fruit and flowers. The windows were clean and shiny, and decorations were piled up at the doors of every house. The owners of these houses came and went, their clothes, although old, were well cared for, and they bustled about, creating a lively atmosphere.
Your ears were filled with the sound of a horse's trot in time with the wheels of a carriage on the cobbled road. It can't be, you thought. Still kneeling on the road, you tried to shout for it to stop, but you didn't have time to say anything. There was no sound of the carriage crashing into your body, no sound of splintering wood or neighing horses. It was the sound of the horse's hooves echoing ever fainter against the cobblestones as it rode away.
Your heart stopped, and you realised that no one had noticed what had happened. No one seemed to perceive your presence, except for the purple-cloaked figure standing before your eyes.
“Where have you brought me?” you asked.
The entity let out a laugh that sounded more playful than you would have liked, and in a soft, somewhat distorted voice, it uttered a few words. “Rather, when.” And without further ado, its body began to lose clarity until it disappeared completely.
“Wait!” Your hand reached out to grab its wrist, but made no contact.
You stifled an insult and quickly got up, looking around for that purple colour that stood out so much. You wandered through the small village, now full of life, under the indifference of the people for whom your existence was imperceptible at that moment.
You reached the entrance to the forest, to the path beneath leafy trees that blocked out the sun's rays, which led you to the mansion. Your chest felt relieved and soon your legs carried you quickly to your destination. The dull colours you had seen before now shone brightly, the sun's rays making the golden elements dazzle your eyes and the white of the building's façade contrasting harmoniously with the blue arches and roofs. The mansion that had previously seemed gloomy to you was now the very picture of luxury, sophistication and elegance.
You made your way to the front door, but before you reached it, you heard a loud noise coming from what you assumed was the back garden. You veered off, approaching it, and stopped dead in your tracks when you saw it. Neuvillette, much younger, much more childlike, stood there with his usual impassive face and rigid posture.
“Neuvi-”
Purple flooded your eyes again when you saw the small figure appear behind the bars that enclosed the garden outside the mansion. The supernatural being that had brought you here no longer had its characteristic invisible hue, this time it was real, at least for the moment. Its identity, still hidden under its cloak, filled you with unease, and you didn't quite know why, but you felt the need to see its face. Its small hand reached through the bars and gently tugged at one of Neuvillette's long locks of hair.
He turned impassively and spoke in a bored tone. “Again.”
“Shall we play today?”
“I've told you a thousand times that you shouldn't be here.” But his words only made the amethyst-coloured cloak climb nimbly over the bars, invading the beautiful gardens of the mansion. Neuvillette took a step back because of the proximity of the purple cloak. “Enough. You will be punished.”
A carefree laugh burst forth from beneath the cloak. “You sound just like those faithful ones.” She opened her arms, trying to make contact with Neuvillette's body, but he turned away once again. “Are you afraid of me too?”
“That's not it,” he hastened to say.
“Do you believe in that nonsense too?” She laughed again, causing the edges of her cloak to flutter. “It's all lies, fallacies, falsehoods. Created and distorted for power.” Her tone softened. “I thought you would understand me.”
“You were wrong.” Neuvillette's voice rose a little sharper. His presence, even in the form of a child, was imposing. “Rules are rules. I've always followed them, and I won't break them now.”
The shoulders beneath the amethyst cloak tensed, but soon relaxed. “Don't you feel lonely in such a big mansion?” She clasped her hands behind her back and swayed her body in a shy gesture. “I could come and live with you. I feel lonely too.”
“You shouldn't even leave your fortress.”
“More like a cell.” She spun around dramatically. “Don't I deserve freedom?”
“Not those like us. That's enough!” His tone changed when their hands almost touched. “Don't you realise what that could lead to?”
“Of course, death!” said the purple one in an almost delirious tone. The boy looked at her as if she were mad. “But death is natural. What's not natural is submission, loneliness.” She approached Neuvillette again, whispering this time. “Never having touched anyone.” She raised her hand to the boy's face. “I just want to know what it feels like.” But he pulled away.
“Not a simple death,” he said.
“I can’t believe you believe in all those inventions. You’re more childish than I thought.” The purple cloak rose, moving agitatedly as she climbed the bars again, this time to leave the mansion’s garden. “I won’t give up.” And with that, she disappeared behind the leafy trees.
When little Neuvillette was sure she had left, he made his way to the mansion, passing through your ethereal body, reminding you once again of the situation you were in.
You followed him, calling his name in a futile attempt to get him to hear you. Turning the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the purple cloak, its presence bathed in subtle shades. “You!” You pointed at her with an accusing finger. “What is all this about? What do you want?”
“It's over,” she said in a sombre tone, and you took a step back. Her laughter filled your ears and your surroundings became blurred, everything was spinning around you, but your eyes refused to look away from the person in the purple cloak who slid her hood back to reveal her face. Your eyes closed and your mind shut down before you could register her face.
. . .
You woke up shivering and wet, your hands stained with mud and your vision slightly blurred. The rain pelted your body with intensity and the sky, already blending deep orange with dark blue, began to flicker with golden dots. As you got up, you leaned against one of the trees and forced yourself to move towards the mansion.
You pushed aside the memory of what had happened when you saw Neuvillette waiting behind the gates at the entrance to the mansion. He was pacing back and forth, looking anxious. You couldn't figure out how you felt knowing that a man like him could have the slightest regard for you.
Neuvillette noticed your presence during one of his nervous paces and hurried to open the gate, letting you through. “You took longer this time.” You knew from his tone that it was not just a statement, but that he wanted you to tell him what had happened. “And you're soaked,” he said, gently taking your arms. You looked at his hands on your arms and remembered how the young Neuvillette had avoided any contact with the purple cloak at all costs.
Before you knew it, he had dragged you inside the mansion. You decided then to confront him. You wanted, no, you needed to know. To know everything. “I saw a person covered in a purple cloak.” His body tensed at your words.
He cleared his throat and spoke calmly. “I see you've already gotten results. But I don't think this is the time to talk about it.”
“It's never the right time for you. How do you expect me to do my job, the job you hired me for, if you don't tell me the truth?” Your tone sounded exasperated.
You heard someone running up the stairs and saw the person's purple cloak disappear down the hallway. Her amused laughter reached your ears and you ran up the stairs to catch up with her. You left Neuvillette behind without listening to his words, which were trying to stop you.
You ran through the corridors, going deeper and deeper into places you had never been before. Even so, the little girl's laughter was like a light guiding you in the direction she was heading. Her laughter provoked you, laughing at you. You felt stupid for following the ghost of a child, but it seemed to be the only thing here that could give you answers. After all, Neuvillette did not seem willing to reveal his secrets or those of this place.
You shouted at her to stop so many times that your throat began to dry out. Turning right into one of the corridors, you came face to face with a door covered in symbols carved with obsidian stones. Those drawings seemed to form a kind of seal. If you were completely ignorant, you would assume that they protected something, but your experience told you that they seemed to be holding back something dark.
You took a step back, your heart pounding, and wished you were back with Neuvillette.
“You should open it.” The girl's voice sounded behind you.
You turned around quickly. “Enough of these games.” You pointed at the mysterious door. “Is this why you've been tormenting me, to open this door?”
The girl shook her head. “We have to get along,” she said in an innocent tone that did not match her actions so far. “Don't you want us to get along?”
You frowned, not trusting this little ghost at all, and the fact that she had the ability to transport you through time made it clear that she had great power. “Of course,” you said in a friendly tone.
“Then open the door.” Her tone was different from yours, sounding demanding.
“I can't do that.”
Her aura changed, you could almost feel her anger and irritation. The danger of the ghost was almost matched by the danger conveyed by what was hidden behind the door.
“Only if you tell me what's behind it,” you hastened to say, but you realised that the little ghost knew you were lying. Little by little, it cornered you against the door, and when your back hit it, you let out a shaky sigh. “All right, all right. I just want to help.”
You heard Neuvillette calling you from the distant corridors where you were. “Neuvillette.” You ran past the little ghost as you rushed out. “I'm here!” You kept going, leaving behind the strange and terrifying feeling you had felt when you saw that door.
Neuvillette's voice, sounding closer and closer to you, calmed your fears, as if you were heading to a safe place where fear could not reach you. You bumped into him as you turned a corner, and soon his arms wrapped around you, preventing you from falling. “Neuvillette.” You whispered with relief. “What you have done is dangerous. Miss, you know better than anyone how risky it is to chase a ghost, especially one of that calibre.” Neuvillette's fingers dug deeper into your back. Was he worried?
The words weighed heavily on your tongue. You didn't want to be rude, but what else could you do when he wasn't answering your questions? So the words floated out of your mouth accusingly. “And why do you think I would do something so risky? If you were more honest, I wouldn't have run after that thing.”
His eyes darkened at your next accusation. “And I know you know that little girl, I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Don't go near her again.” The muscles in his arms tensed.
“Who is she?” you asked, staring at him. “And I don't want to hear that you don't know anything again.”
“I can't tell you.” His answer made you break free from his grip and distance yourself from him by taking a step back, ignoring the warmth of his arms around your body. Perhaps you wouldn't have broken free so easily if he hadn't held you with the delicacy with which one holds something precious that one is afraid of breaking.
“Why did you contact me then?” His eyes softened as if trying to calm you down, but they only achieved the opposite. “I'm risking my job and my reputation. My future!” The echo of your voice bounced off the hallway walls.
Neuvillette remained silent, which made you even angrier. “You know what? I don't care about your secrets and your ghosts and your abandoned village. And even less about that damn door of the devil.” You tried to walk past him and away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you.
“What door?” Suddenly his tone sounded curious, almost desperate, but that was impossible. Neuvillette was as calm as a spring breeze.
“The one at the end of this corridor. I don't know what you're hiding there, but it's evil.”
Neuvillette gently pulled your wrist closer to him. “Let's go, we must find it.” He took you back to the place where the little ghost had cornered you, but to your surprise, the door there was boringly simple. You looked at Neuvillette and he seemed almost disappointed. “I swear it was here before. I saw it with my own eyes.” But now your eyes showed you something else. You didn't want Neuvillette to think you were delirious.
Seeing supernatural beings was one thing, but the manifestation of places, spaces, or structures was a sign of something greater. When his fingers released your wrist, you could almost feel your chest tighten. “You have to believe me.” The soft, disappointed tone of your voice caught Neuvillette's attention, and he turned to you.
“I believe you. I've also seen the door on a few occasions.” His fists clenched and his knuckles turned white. “But it always disappears as soon as it appears.”
“What's inside?” You couldn't stop your curiosity, which Neuvillette was unwilling to dispel.
He moved closer until he was just a few inches away from you. “It's complicated.” A look of frustration appeared on your face. The back of your neck grew warm as you felt Neuvillette's hand sink into your hair. He lifted your face so you were looking into his captivating eyes. “Too complicated.” His finger gently caressed your cheek. You didn't know how, when, or why, but his closeness and his touch, which was becoming more and more common, managed to calm even your deepest fears.
When his chest collided with yours, you snapped out of your reverie and moved away from him. A dangerous thought had entered your head when you looked at his lips and wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.
“I think I'll go rest, I'm exhausted.” When you looked at him again, his jaw was more pronounced than usual. You must be starting to hallucinate because his eyes looked at you with longing. Before he could say anything else, you had already hurried away from the place, your heartbeat sounding almost as loud as your footsteps when you reached your room.
*
**
***
The tips of your fingers were slightly stained black, and the smell of ink from the folded letter you had just put in the envelope still lingered in the air. When you reached the small room where Neuvillette used to spend his time, you found him looking out at the rainy weather behind the large window adorned with sapphire-coloured curtains and ivory-coloured ornaments.
His muscular back was visible under his clothes, and the profile of his face made you want to caress his face. Ever since the day you saw that mysterious door and thought about Neuvillette's sweet kisses, every time you met, the tension between you increased. Perhaps it was just your imagination, and he did not feel that whirlwind of emotions inside him. His calm demeanour and impassive expression dampened the flame of hope inside you.
You cleared your throat to get his attention, which wasn't even necessary, as he always noticed the slightest change. Even so, he had returned to his reserved state and there was no longer even the slightest touch of his hands against yours when you walked side by side.
You didn't know if he was upset about your running away or about the appearance and disappearance of that mysterious door he seemed so eager to find.
“Where can I deliver this letter?”
“Is something wrong?” he said, approaching you but keeping a safe distance. “Why do you want to send a letter?”
“I need to contact someone.” Your tone sounded cold and tired. You were already fed up with all the mystery on his part, with not getting any answers, and with him still expecting sincerity from you. “I just want to know where I can go to deliver it so it can be sent.”
“Don't worry, I'll take care of it.” His gaze was fixed more on the letter than on you, which irritated you.
You took a step back, shaking your head, disappointed once again. “I'll find it myself.”
You ignored Neuvillette, who followed you outside. You walked through the gates and his voice faded behind you. His tone sounded almost pleading, but when you looked back through the gates, you saw him standing there, no longer following you. If he wanted to stop you so badly, he should have kept chasing you, but it was obvious that he didn't care about you. At least not as much as you would have liked.
. . .
The sun had already set, and now the silvery light of the full moon shone behind the thick dark clouds, as dark as the sky, where the stars mingled with the raindrops falling heavily.
You reached a tree at the end of one of the slopes where you had arrived by carriage on your first day in this place. One of its branches held a piece of pink fabric. You picked it up and threw it on the ground, stomping on it in frustration and letting out a somewhat low groan.
You had lost count of how many times you had been walking in circles and ended up at the tree where you had left a piece of the dress you were wearing, now torn from one of your sleeves. You didn't even want to admit to yourself what was happening, but you couldn't deny it any longer, you were trapped. There was no way out of this place, you had tried everything possible. You felt a lump in your throat, there was a chance you might not be able to leave here for a very long time. You took the letter out of one of your pockets, it was wet, and the paper from the envelope that had wrapped it remained stuck where it had rubbed. The ink created stains on the envelope and melted like snow in your hands due to the heavy rain. A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You would no longer be able to contact the sorcerers. When you witnessed the energy of that black door, you realised that this case was beyond your capabilities, and now that you couldn't even leave the place to send a simple letter, your hopes were dashed.
The water, blackened by the ink, spilled from the palms of your hands, where the letter had already completely disintegrated, and you stared at them until the rain left them spotless once more.
Once again, Neuvillette made your heart beat, this time with anger. This was why he had offered to take care of the letter, so that you would not realise that you were trapped, as trapped as he was. Or perhaps not, because if he was trapped, how was it possible that he had contacted you? The only answer you could think of was one you did not want to consider.
Your legs were tired when you returned to the mansion, and they trembled when you glimpsed Neuvillette's white hair shining in the moonlight. He was still in the same place you had left him, as wet as you were. You wanted to shout at him and insult him, you wanted to blame him for hiding so many things from you. But the moment you saw his distraught and worried face, your words were drowned out by the sound of the rain as you whispered them weakly.
“Why?”
Neuvillette's brow furrowed and he slid his hand down your bare arm. He whispered too, but his proximity allowed you to hear him despite the rain. “Don't think for a moment that I would do such a thing.”
“I don't know what to believe anymore,” you said, noticing your voice tremble. “I don't know why you contacted me, or why you don't seem to want me to find the solution to your problem. But I need you to send a letter.”
“I can't.”
“Yes, you can!” Your voice rose. “You sent me a letter.”
Neuvillette looked behind you and you followed his gaze. At the edge of the forest, the black shadow transformed into the black wolf you had seen before. Its silver eyes stood out against its jet-black fur, and it watched you from its position, with no intention of approaching. Unlike the first day, when its presence did not seem dangerous to you, now it did, but its danger was not that of a predator, but of a frightened animal that only wanted to defend itself at any cost from the danger that surrounded it. And there was nothing more threatening than a frightened animal.
“We'd better go inside.” Neuvillette led you into the mansion.
You didn't say anything on the way to the living room, where he pulled up an armchair for you by the fire so you could warm up and stop shivering. He said something you ignored, paying no attention, and fixed your eyes on the dancing flames that created sparks in the wood.
You looked across the room to where Neuvillette was sitting in another armchair, watching you, and asked, “How many people have gone in and managed to get out?”
If the atmosphere was already silent, now it was heavy with his lack of response. “Did you know this would happen?” you insisted.
“There was a possibility.” You didn't know why, but his sincere words hid a truth he wasn't going to reveal to you.
“You should have contacted a sorcerer, not me. I am merely an informant.” You looked at him accusingly. “And now I am trapped here until who knows when.”
A long time passed, the only sound filling the room being the crackling of the fireplace, and inevitably you fell into a deep sleep.
Neuvillette's fingers gently caressed your face, wiping away a couple of tears that fell from your eyes.
“Forgive me.”