At this instant when one half of the world enjoyed the blissful and warm rays of sunshine, like in a different reality the other half cowered under the cold and ruthless winter. Covered with dark and heavy clouds filled with snow, even the day failed to provide a light of warmth. Currently in the midst of such a bleak season was the Country of Fleursylva, famous for its culture, elegance and romance. At this gothic country’s appendix, a man in black walked across the unbusy streets of the City of Chartelle. Among the beautiful and intricate white structures that turn bronzish orange in the evening and lightish blue in the night, the roads that were seldom used by cars and scooters at this time, his unhurried but steady black dress shoes tapped on the cobblestone alleys, familiar with every turn.
6:03-Saturday-22-August-2385, the man in black verified the time on his properly administered black metal band perpetual wristwatch. He stopped as he arrived in front of a building 4 stories tall made of white limestone with very intricate and minute details, its ground floor was half beneath the surface as if the world was a swamp trying to engulf it whole. Similar to others, this building was surrounded by a narrow empty path where its 16 flying buttresses stood tall creating vertical and thin spires.
Each floor boasted 15 large and colourful bar tracery windows set in stone frames. With a large and beautiful and flamboyant rosette window at the front stretching from just below 3rd floor upto the end of 4th floor. It was surrounded with a mimperg above it, carved till the end of the building's pointed arch. Adjoined on its both sides were square and pointed clock towers housing turret clocks reaching higher than it.
Its four sides on each floor joint protruded a fearsome gargoyle, each belonging to a different myth. Like every other building in this country it gave an eerie but beautiful feeling.
The stone boundary wall preventing any intruders was 7 feet tall; decorated with straight and erect and white pointed metal protrusions; deadly for any petty thief. Its only opening was an arched white metal gate with its thin curves and crosses and complex sharp design, parted in the middle.
The man in black's high collared tailcoat jacket rustled as he searched for the gate's key in his pockets and then his red dress shirt and last his black dress pants. Upon finding it he inserted it into a small opening in the exact centre of the gate.
Clang
A small noise came as the gate unlocked, he stepped inside and headed for another full gate of the building not forgetting to close the outer gate as he did. The man in black simply performed the same monotonous task of opening the this time heavy and thick and lavish grey metal door.
He stepped down on the 11 steps staircase made of ochre coloured marble. On the left was the workers quarters divided in two, one for females and other males. The guard's post was currently empty, as the previous one had quit just last month due to old age.
On the left was a dining hall complemented with a kitchen at the back. The dining hall was entirely open and visible due to the 6 arcades in the wall dividing the corridor and dining hall.
But darkness consumed the corridor due to the fading natural light. Wondering where the chef and the house sitter went, the man in black switched on the lights by the pointed arches and centre of the ribbed vaultings.
He then steadily ascended the large and dark ebony made spiral staircase, passing by the 1st floor then 2nd floor until he reached the 3rd floor. Proceeding into the blue green passageway brightened with 4 electric wall lamps, and half a window visible from the curve of the spiral stairway, he stopped in front of a gate right to the middle of the corridor.
Knock Knock
Knocking on the wooden door, heavily decorated with opaque glasses and mirrors and marked 301, he waited and listened to small muffled noises coming from behind the door a few good seconds before a clear sound of an unlocking hit his ears. Opening just a sliver, black eyes gazed at him from behind the door before unbinding the door chain.
A young boy 16-17 years of age and slim in build, appeared. His face was downcast with roughly wiped wet stains still visible on his cheeks. His cleaned and wavy brown hair, neat white tunic and black relaxed trousers implied his still functioning normality.
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“Good evening, Dame. Are you doing fine? I wanted to check on you.”, the man in black asked the apparent question.
The boy replied fidgeting, “Good evening Jean. Yes, I’m fine. It just has been a rough couple of days.”
“You should come in Jean.”, the man named Jean complied with the boy’s request, entering the flat. Its living room consisted of a small television just beside the door, with a sofa in the front. The sole window of the room was on the left wall, big enough to light the whole flat in the morning. Just under the window was a shelf, upon which sat three photos. One of a single child with brown hair and black eyes. The other two each consisted of the boy and a young woman slowly reaching her middle age, both in different places; one taken somewhere in this flat, other on a railway station of another country.
Its contents were barely visible due to insufficient lighting. Looking around Jean saw that out of the 4 lights available, only 1 was on.
Sitting on the couch Jean said, “You should not keep it so dark in here.”, he said trying to not mind the eerie silence of the whole place.
“I'm just adjusting. It's weird living alone.”, replied the boy, “Would you like something, tea, coffee,..?”
“No, I'm fine. Thank you, Dame. If you need anything don't hesitate to ask. If you want to talk or not talk, I'm here.”
“Thank You.”I was here to talk about something else.”
“I know this question is early, but Damien, are you going back to your country or are you going to stay and study here?”, asked Jean seriously, interlocking his fingers, with the elbows kept on his knees.
“I'm thinking of staying here. I should finish my education before moving anywhere.”
“And have you decided where and how you will stay here? How will you pay for food,education and residence?”, Jean asked in a calm tone, trying not to intimidate the young mourner.
“No”, replied Damien, a singular answer to all of Jean’s questions. “But I will find a job somewhere that I can manage with my school. I can also take out a loan.”
After a few moments of silence and staring into Damien’s resolute eyes, Jean replied, “I was just at your school, talking to your teacher. Your aunt had already paid all of your fees for this year, your graduation will go without any monetary disturbances. As for having a roof and food you don't have to worry about it. You can stay here as long as you need.”
“But..”, Damien tried to retort, perhaps finding this gesture of kindness too much but was interjected by Jean, “Don't worry about it. We've known each other for years. One less rent is nothing much for me.”
Giving Damien some time to digest, Jean sat in silence, pondering about some signs of maturity already observable in Damien's nature. As his gaze once again landed on the photo of the woman with the boy, he thought, Why did you go so suddenly and randomly?
“Thank You. But I don't know how I will repay your kindness.”, woke him the voice of Damien, full of gratitude.
“You don't have to, we are friends. If you need my help with something just tell me.”, Jean replied looking around the sewhat dusty flat.
“No no. I cannot burden you so much.”, interjected Damien a little perplexed.
“See you at dinner then.”, said Jean before getting up and walking out of the flat
“Thank You.”, he heard from behind him before the door closed.
Jean continued his ascent one floor higher, but this time the spiral staircase ended abruptly. Blocking it was a mild steel gate with curved designs separated in the middle, it's top making an arch. The gate perfectly filled the hollow of its flamboyant gothic doorway supported by the flanking buttresses and reverse curves above the pointed arch.
Opening it he entered to find a this time smaller corridor, connected to three doors, one in front, another in left and last in right. Each gate was made of dark brown wood, and heaving decorated with opaque coloured glasses and metals. All three gates were marked with number 4.
Jean put his shoes inside the shoe cabinet placed between the left door and middle door. Standing before the middle door and opening the last of the many locks he now finally entered his own home. These many locks would have annoyed any person for the first time, but for Jean who had been living here from his childhood, it had become a daily occurance.
Jean Innocent Vivre; although young, was the owner of this whole building that had been left to him by his parents. His mother befell a disease 2 years ago and his father, tired from business work all his life and now alone in his late middle ages; without the company of his wife, he soon followed after her.
A 3rd year philosophy student at that time; Jean somehow managed the whole residence alone. He sold away his father's business away which he found not manage, earning good fir tune and only kept this apartment for a stable income. After a year of peril, he finally learned the ropes.
As for Damien, he had been living here for 7 years along with his aunt Alice who was here even longer. Like many of the tenants from the time of his parents, he had a close and familiar relationship with her.
She came from a different country and one day after a return visit there, she also brought Damien; whose parents had then recently died. Their real names were hard to pronounce for the locals here and thus they always used Damien and Alice as names.
Damien, then gloomy and introverted, who had gotten familiar with the environment over the years was now 17 years of age and in the last year of his high school.
But tragedy struck when Alice suddenly had an accident just 5 days ago on the 18th, leaving Damien alone to fend for himself. Because of the close bond shared between them and his current financial stability, Jean let Damien stay here till he was able to support himself.
Jean also found the suddenness and circumstances of Alice's death uncanny. That's why being a good samaritan and a rich jobless mop that he was, he had decided to investigate the incident himself.
It's not that he did not trust the police's ability or was a very rash and brave person himself; but he just shared something special with the now late Alice. This feeling of helplessness and uselessness reminded him of his parents' affair. It simply just kept gnawing at him and slowly screaming in his mind, not letting him rest.