Inside Vivienne’s mansion, Norbert was in the main room, the witch not there as he sat in front of a fireplace, warming his hands up. Clothes on the ground, the light dancing on them, trying to dry them out as quickly as possible without the garments catching alight. The doors opening up behind him, Norbert turning around, not moving his hands from in front of the fire as Vivienne came out, stopping seeing Norbert having his leathers off and cotton shirt, only sitting in the pants.
“Having fun being an exhibitionist?” Vivienne said to Norbert, walking towards him and leaning down on top of him, the witch trailing a finger down his back.
“What are you tracing?” Norbert asked her.
“Scars on your back, very fine, but covering every patch of skin.”
Norbert twisted his body around, pulling his skin as he tried to look over. Vivienne shook her head as she took his arm, leading them both out of the room and up the stairs, Norbert seeing the mirror on the second story, staring down at him, daring him to go upstairs. Freezing for a moment as he was dragged up the stairs, he turned around so he couldn’t see the mirror behind him.
Hearing Vivienne look about in the drawers, Norbert presses a cold object into his hand. Opening his hand, Norbert brings it up, the mirror in his hand, as he looks over at himself. He sees the scars on his back, thin white lines going vertically up his back.
Wondering what caused it, Norbert remembered the first time he came to Morenas when he fell out of the sky and crashed into the trees and branches.
“Surprised you never healed them, as you don’t even have a scar around your neck from decapitation,” Vivienne asked, standing on her tippy toes, moving Norbert’s hair out of the way to gaze at his neck. Making swirls around it as she traced down to his shoulder, continuing down his back along Norbert’s spine. His hair was standing on end as he felt the cool nail slide across him, resisting the urge to shiver from the touch.
Turning around, Norbert took Vivienne’s hand as he held it out before him, stopping her from travelling any further south. Norbert looked down at the witch, staring into her eyes, a flicker of green appearing on them as they stared back into his.
Leaning forward, Norbert twisted his head to the side, reaching down to her lips, gazing at his reflection. Norbert froze, the feeling of something travelling up his spine once more. The background melted away, and he could not move his head to look at the mirror no longer. From his back, tendrils coming out, wiggling their way inside. His face was half destroyed, gashes where his mask would have been. Pieces of the black metal Norbert could see pockmarked his face and neck.
His muscles were exposed, purple veins visible, his flesh turning green as it dropped off his body, evaporating into smoke. Turning to his hand, Norbert saw it clutching Vivienne’s head; the body went as he stared at the head. Her hair was cut short, just above where her shoulder should be. Her face is pristine for a moment. A black crack appeared there as it spread all over her face. Her head became porcelain as piece after piece broke off, caught in a wind that Norbert couldn’t see.
The tendrils on his back, as black veins tried to spread across his body, originating from the tentacles. However, it would only be momentarily as the energy within him visibly combatted, his skin gaining a slight shade of purple.
The tentacles tugged him backwards, taking a step backwards as a hand came over his face, covering his eyes as he was surrounded by blackness. Still not moving, Norbert closed his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest, blinking away the tear down his cheek.
Feeling punished backwards, Norbert takes another step to avoid falling over. Several more times, this happened before he was turned around and the hand removed from his face. Not moving his head, Norbert quietly walked down the stairs and back into the room with the fireplace and his clothes.
Two seats now appear in the room. Norbert took one as he sat down, moving it towards the fire until his leg started to feel crispy, feeling the cold sweat trickle down his body.
A cup of tea appearing in Norbert’s hand, taking a sip without even thinking, feeling the liquid warm himself up from the inside out, with the fire now roaring Norbert no longer feeling as cold. Taking another sip, the saucer not rattled against the cup as he swallowed it down. Placing it on his lap, Norbert turned to Vivienne. “Scars happened when I fell into this world being hit by branches; none of the wounds happening before I had my little purple concoction has healed., Norbert said, showing the scar on his elbow when he grazed it, falling off his pushbike and onto the asphalt.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“Fell into this world?” Vivienne asked him.
Norbert nodded his head. “Yeah, fell into this world, up from the sky and into a tree.” Norbert provided her.
“Fell into this world?” She asked again, Norbert seeing her eyes grow wide.
Norbert half opened his mouth, his brain finally catching up with him and what he had said. “Just forget about that.” Grumbling into the tea, he took another sip.
“You're frazzled if you let that slip.”
Norbert just grunted in response.
“What did you see in the mirror to be this frazzled?”
“Your decapitated head, turning into dust and blowing off into the wind, while … something dragged me away.”
Vivienne looked to Norbert, furrowing her brows. “That’s just a normal mirror, nothing enchanted in it at all.”
“Well, it’s not the first time this has happened with that mirror, Luck” Norbert looked as Vivienne visibly tensed for a moment “says that it can happen, but not to trust them.”
“Because they aren’t prophetic?”
“They are, but due to the concept of prophecy or fortune telling is part of another gods' domains, a bi-product of being lucky is knowing which path to take, or you take the right path intrinsically because you are lucky.”
“How high of a follower of Luck are you?” Vivienne asked, her hand slightly shaking as she took another sip of tea.
Norbert shrugged in response, “At the tippy top I think, honestly, no clue. Never seen a priest or even another follower of Lady Luck. Think it’s just me at the moment.”
Vivienne nodded her head. “You are the first follower I’ve seen. Even the rumours have made it to Grimm that anyone that follows Lady Luck will meet a quick end at the hands of someone or something magnitudes more powerful than themselves.”
“That does seem to be the consensus” Norbert turning his eyes to the fire as he gazed at it, seeing Vivienne giving a slight flicker of her eyes towards Norbert, before looking back into the fire.
“I’ve read in some places that there are people who can tell a story using flames; ever heard of that?” tearing his eyes away from the fire, looking over Vivienne as she still looked into the fire, the room seemingly getting darker, the flames brighter as they started flickering over Vivienne’s face.
“Haven’t breached that much into the other territories. Fires aren’t something huddled around in Grimm.”
Norbert moved his tea and saucer to the stone ground next to his clothes, the sound taking Vivienne’s attention as her head whipped towards Norbert. “I’ve heard it done, in a story. So let me tell you a story from my land, one that you might not have heard before or a part of the story,” Norbert spoke, patting his lap.
Vivienne just staring at him, unsure of what to do. Standing up, he took her hand, the cup and saucer somehow leaving the witch’s hand. Norbert wrapped his arms around her, sitting back on the chair and gazing into the fire. Vivienne was sitting on his lap with her feet over the armrest, one of Norbert’s hands on her back while the other over her hip, stopping her from falling off.
“There was once a man, rumours said to be the most charming and beautiful in the world.” Tilting his head to Vivienne, out of the corner of his eye, Norbert sees the fires change, the image of a man walking in the forest, the sounds of a creek nearby.
“One of the people captivated by him was a nymph named Echo.” The fire changed to a girl looking at him, flickering around, trying to grow the courage to talk to the man who has her heart. “Now, multiple times, she would try and talk to him, but the man would never respond, always dismissing her, for the nymph was only ever able to repeat the words of others.”
“In the woods, Echo gave one final attempt, coming up to the man and pleading with all she could, but the man only raised an eyebrow disgusted and walked away.” The fire dies down, Norbert having a quick look to make sure it was still alight, only a small flame with another one, towering above.
“Heartbroken and filled with rejection, Echo lived a lift of solitude for her voice is still sometimes heard, when all alone and looking out where she is believed to live.” The fire went to a mountainside, rippling on the edges as Norbert almost heard the word “she is believed to live” several times.
“Nemesis, the god of retribution in this story, looked over the nymph, seeing the man’s callous disregard for the nymph's feelings. To exact revenge, Nemesis led the man towards a pool, where he gazed at his reflection.” The fire changed to showing the man’s face, flickering as if he was staring into the pool of water.
“Upon seeing himself, the man deeply loves the figure beneath him. As he reached out a hand to touch, the reflection breaking, the still water moving again. The man standing there, sorrow filling his heart at realising his love would never be reciprocated.” A lone flame is standing, wavering in the air.
“This realisation led him to take his own life.” The fire goes out, and the room is filled with darkness. Norbert looked into Vivienne's eyes, leaning closer and closer until his breath was on her lips. “And the legend goes that a narcissus flower has sprung by the pool of water. A symbol of his self-obsession.” The fire crackled behind him, though no light came from it as Norbert continued to stare
“Wh”
“Why, because I am no Narcissus”, Norbert told her, leaning forward and engulfing her, the witch leaning forward to meet him.
***
Norbert sat at the table, Enid’s father sitting on the other side. “Something has your tongue?” Enid’s father asked Norbert.
Norbert looked up, breathing out as he said, “How much trouble can one get from interacting with a witch?” Norbert asked while raising his eyebrows twice.