'...The sun's heat waves can melt stone, make it liquid, but stone is solid and unmalleable. Is that an irony?' He thought.

'Nothing has to be ironic as you always say.'

He was standing near his brothers body, but they weren't alone. Vetro and Aeneus stood side by side. Guillerme tilted his head towards them both.

"Both of you, why are you so strong willed?"

Vetro, a frail, older man with a withered expression, black hair turning gray, skin wrinkling in folds, bones and teeth cracking in their jaws. But his hands... his hands were made of flesh. Flesh, it is a universal term for 'skin and organs' usually the only ones to remain.

Aeneus, a strong, younger man with a youthful face and short, wavy blond hair. Though he had eyes that were hollow. Somehow, their souls grew resistant to the occasional metamorphosis, so the two always are in their original body.

A response, they did not speak, their expressions didn't even change.

But, he understood from the way they moved and reacted, the silence and silence, the stares and glances at each other, exchanging thoughts and ideas between one another, and as they both turned, facing and looking towards the ground of the sky above, where the grass flew about in a flurry of winds, and veins walked around on invisible staircases while the creatures below chanted in an ancient dialect.

They turned to Guillerme and gave him a thumbs-up. It was meant as a thumbs up of confidence, to encourage their fellow comrades and companions.

However, the action they did in his mind was of a different manner altogether. And perhaps this time it wasn't only a show. Perhaps, maybe, he was going mad. The only thing certain was the fact of who stood by and sat close to him. There were dozens. Dozens of faces, each with differing appearances. They had no discernable emotions. Their gaze focused intently, boring holes into his skull. Those dozen faces, skulls, nervous systems and organs stared at each other with varying amounts of confusion or sadness, or pain in their souls, but no tears fell from any, or even a sound came forth. It was an all-encompassing silence.

What went on here was an unspoken truth between everyone; it is a quiet agreement and agreement never spoken, but seen in their minds.

Yet still. There are no signs of grief or distress displayed. How odd, everyone thought to themselves, as if their mind for once had grown a bit of a sense of emotion. Even more strange was the fact, of the people before him. Not a single person showed signs of acknowledgement. No movement, nothing was said. He hadn't said a word, yet everyone stood. Was it because he was the first?

.......

The hallways didn't appear the way it did before.

The creature of unrequited love appeared before Idalia as if emerging from an inner hell, eyes of a sloth and the solitude of a snake. It would approach and stare intently, silently. It did not move swiftly nor slowly, and did not turn and shift away, as it would leave no imprint or trace. Its movements and presence would not remain long enough for anyone else to notice.

Perhaps, this is why its love and its affections didn't grow or continue; it wasn't just physical and mental attraction. It also happened within the hearts and the mind, the soul and the flesh. Love can easily be perceived. And it can also be ignored, never acknowledged nor appreciated.

What it takes for love to be unrequited is a lower bar of self-loathing, of course. And even this definition has several nuances depending on a given person.

That should explain a few things: There are no mistakes nor do they occur, mistakes are in the wrong, incorrect actions, therefore being imperfect and useless, a defect, is nigh impossible.

Thus, those who neglect love aren't those who lack the qualities or attributes needed for it to prosper. Quite the opposite, actually; the reason why those that are so highly qualified for romantic endeavours get neglected is not due to their inability or lack of suitability, but the faulty nature of love itself. It is a poor choice when you think about it.

If love were only a desire for happiness and companionship, rather than the reality that it entails many different feelings and experiences that have nothing whatsoever to do with one's ability to feel anything beyond what's necessary, it could've been a lot simpler. Unfortunately, when you're feeling an emotion, it doesn't really matter how that emotion gets expressed. Or expressed at all. One may think that emotions are completely divorced from reasoning and logic, but that's far from the case.

Emotions are largely based on perception and how we perceive certain stimuli as well as our understanding of those stimuli. A lot of people do this wrong. Because they don't actually understand or see it for what it is. Love, romance or passion, or whatever you call it, all is merely chemical reactions in your brain, but all that also comes from having expectations. Those are the things we should be careful about. We must know what kind of emotional responses will occur if we are to accurately judge and measure our experiences. In this regard, love becomes easy to understand and manage because it falls under the purview of rational and scientific thinking rather than a place of emotion. And it doesn't actually involve love either, but something like 'intimacy' or 'attraction', not that they are exactly the same.

The rush of understanding in Idalia's head as the creature of unrequited love stood in-front of her, waiting. What was it waiting for? She asked herself...

Was it love? Did this being not understand that love was an emotion felt only by humanity? Or was it attempting to prove something? If the creature tried proving this fact to humans, and was given enough chances. If it managed to get them all to understand its point, would they even see it that way? As a thing to love?

She laughed in its face, now she understood further.

This creature... was the cottage, and it longed for a lover or two to live within it, so when they do it would usurp their body and feel their intimacy. Though it did not know, or rather, a lack of understanding that love is the warmth of a person's skin on yours, and their hearts beating together as one. The closeness.

But this creature wasn't something of skin. It wasn't something with a beating heart.

It was merely a replica of what could be though of as a person, a replica of life, of humans, and most definitely a mockery to the love, or lack-thereof.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

This situation of Idalia and the creature of unrequited love happened at some distant memory, past and lost. Not too long after she met the creature, she simply told it the one thing that would destroy the idea and thought.

It was too late, unfortunately. She told the creature everything; she told the cottage-being to forget it all. All the emotion and love, gone and lost, all to return home again.

"You know..." She said to herself. "I was right. I thought so myself, after all I'm a young and intelligent child." She smiled. "This world is a dream. Or a memory, I suppose! Ahh... so many things to tell brother Zabulus today..." She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand in a cheeky way, giving the impression of an innocent little girl.

The unimaginable. The thought in their heads, those thoughts, that they weren't able to recall and reminisce about these particular memories were no longer accessible, just vague thoughts floating within, unprocessed and untouched, unheard or understood.

With their actions and reactions, their purpose, meaning and value were null.

The wooden creature of the hallways moved around and stirred, yet again, as it did many times, and repeated the same things over.

'Love me... please love me...' it cried for the hundredth and millionth time since she left his soul. The creature would roam the halls. In her pursuit, chasing the idea, chasing her. To become human for a few moments... to feel a skin resembling hers...

Yet... for all his 'hopes and dreams', that day never came.

........

"Do you see yourself when you fall in love?" Vetro inquired, walking alongside Aeneus down the fields of tall black grass that brushed against their lower halves as they strolled casually side by side.

"Ah..." the man beside him, Aeneus, responded thoughtfully, clearly taking some time to think of an answer. But that time quickly passed. His head shook rapidly in reply. "Of all those women... the one that struck me the most was that skeletal lady who spoke of some rapture over and over. But, I'm not a man whose heart is easily moved. Perhaps, it was how strange she was that struck me as a bit intriguing. For whatever reason, she reminded me somewhat of the image of someone else I know, or used to know."

"Hm? Like whom? Someone specific? Some past acquaintance, or is it someone currently residing with the group?" Vetro asked curiously.

Aeneus mused silently for a brief moment, "Probably one of the sisters who are going around telling others about themselves... Yeah... That makes the most sense."

The way the grass swayed in a breeze was odd. Vetro found that he was somewhat confused at the concept of the atmosphere and its sudden change in texture and surroundings. Walking on the grass he felt like something's coming through, or there was someone pushing him with each step forward. Was it a soul?

The thought suddenly dawned upon Aeneus' head, and he realized it wasn't just his imagination but rather an actual event occurring, "Someone is here." His gaze turning toward Guillerme, gazing fixed and stern into the direction of a distant silhouette on the hilltops nearby, while in contrast Guillerme still hadn't shown a single ounce of visible emotion in regards.

"What are you two doing here? For all you know, a memory at the moment could be leaking, and Zabulus' energy would likely grow."

"Says the one who caused the leak in the first place." Aeneus shrugged it off, shaking his head.

"Listen, I'm just trying to give everyone some excersize, otherwise their souls would grow weak and vanish into him, you know?"

"How do you know that?" Vetro inquired.

"Because I've seen it happen! This soul has been overflown by other souls due to what he did... don't you think he knew what he was doing? Don't tell me, you didn't do this all intentionally, correct?"

"....I... suppose," Aeneus said hesitantly, unsure, as if contemplating his decision making process beforehand. Guillerme fell silent as his hands clutched onto his sides.

He sighed, his breathing hitching a bit, but his voice strained through, and then without looking up to either of their gazes or expression, he asked them again:

"Who's here?"

There was no response for what seemed like an eternity.

Though, the situation wasn't going to be as bad as he thought. The one who appeared was none other than Idalia herself. The middle child, the wisest, the eldest who cared deeply about the lives that were created around her. If there was one thing Idalia was, was compassionate and gentle, and loving and kind, but also a little cruel. She was more of a fiend of knowledge, an intellectual, rather than one to act as a friend, or to understand what her actions meant. So when she acted normally, one would only wonder about the rationality behind each decision or each decision itself, it had been said she'd keep all of this in mind and take whatever actions necessary when needed.

However, that was all talk from the souls that had met her, whether it was true or not, or only exaggerated, who's to say? Though there had been only one instance of her being rude or ignorant to a person she met. It was not until later she realized she might have done something inappropriate.

She wasn't exactly adept at being an emotional person, so this was perhaps her reason for acting in an abhorrent way toward those few people around her and others she called friends. Even then, she couldn't consider many a friend, but rather a peer, at most.

"What are you doing here now?" Guillerme said in a cheerful tone as he kneeled down to be on level with Idalia.

"Brother! I found this creature, right...? And... it..." her voice faltered as she looked away from Guillerme, focusing upon Vetro. She shook her head, looking up. "It wants something."

Aeneus scoffed, "Is it really the time to play with a child?"

"Come on man," Said Vetro, "Let him have his time, it's his sister."

"It wants- I mean, it wanted something from me! And... I told it some really bad things so it left... because... uhhh.. I don't know? Haha..." She covered her eyes with her hand, making it appear like she didn't really understand and had to pause between sentences.

It sounded like she was making this story up, it must have been true, considering who her family is, though.

"Really? It's okay, as long as you feel sorry, right?"

"Yeah! I do!" She said cheerfully as she hugged her brother, while sticking her tongue out at Aeneus. Aeneus scowled back.

It was at that point when she knew he saw her and heard her, a realization washed over her and the happiness quickly faded. Tears filled in her eyes as the light seemed dimmer, yet darker in shade as if a shadow casted overhead.

She cried for an act. "Brother!!! Butt is bullying me!!!"

Aeneus turned and left with a frown.

He sighed, "Ugh, don't let her fool you. She's a grown-up who acts like a little kid, and only knows what she knows!"

Guillerme said with a certain... anger to his voice, in reply to Aeneus, as if an imaginary vein popped on his forehead, "Have more respect you dipshit, she's my sister! I raised her, and besides, she's very bright and you know it."

"Whatever. Hey, Zabulus," Aeneus pointed his finger towards the direction. "I can feel it. You're here too!"

"Ah... well, suppose I couldn't hide for long." The fifth voice of the group now appeared behind them all.

Vetro wanted to back out but... Zabulus was directly behind him. Idalia ran up to him for a hug, and he picked her up and set her atop a stone pillar on a small rock formation, the perfect height for a young girl.

"You haven't changed a bit, Zabulus." She commented, almost out of character for what is seemingly a child.

"Aeneus's words were right... she's a cunning one..."

Though what they didn't notice, only Zabulus, was her ever-shifting appearance and presence. At times, she appears as an older, taller person, but the majority of the time, it is as a young girl. She always retained her natural eye color, however. But what caught his attention was how each time he turned his head, her physical attributes shifted between both age groups. Was it a literal transformation? Or a trick of the mind, like many others?