The Empty Mirror
Chapter 10: Bloody Noses
Oh, the intonation, that ephemeral play of sounds that now surrenders to the enchanting Giselle.
In spite of all the adversities, I have once again been subjected to the same response, sinking deeper into the dense gloom that envelops me. Perhaps understandably, for until this moment I had not found the courage within myself to reveal my name. It is not that I have deliberately sought to conceal it, but rather that my genuine identity, my intrinsic being, persists as an inscrutable enigma. Even at this very moment, in front of that enigmatic individual on the threshold of the castle, my certainties about my own existence waver.
The castle stands imposing and sinister, evoking the only safe watchtower in the midst of a twisted reality. It is the only refuge to which I can gain access, yet I have bypassed the gaze of the man who stands before me, concentrating solely on my own. Yet I am now wracked with guilt for having embraced such a reckless decision.
He pleaded with me to stay away, vehemently warning that I should not remain in this enclave, insisting on the innate danger that afflicts it. His voice reverberated in the recesses of my mind, but my insatiable yearning to unravel the enigmas compelled me to return and once again expose my desolate condition, hoping that perhaps he would reconsider his position.
I did not intend to coerce him, nor to burden him with someone else's burden. My sole purpose was to present the truth to him with unvarnished honesty, with no ambition to arouse sympathy, but rather with a yearning for understanding.
His inquisitive eyes scrutinise me with piercing intensity. I struggle to articulate, to unfold the reasons that have brought me to this point, but my voice cracks in the abyss of supulchral silence.
Before I can even utter a prayer, however, his gaze turns icy and, with a barely perceptible gesture, he beckons me into the shadowy, hidden depths of the castle.
With each step inside the ancient walls, my unease rises, grows in an unbridled dance. The air is charged with a disturbing density, imbued with an unholy presence that creeps in with every breath. The whispers of the wind take on the voice of forgotten echoes, weaving a sense of ineffable unease deep within me.
My senses are alert, watchful for any sign, any glimmer of what awaits in this shadowy domain. As I move through the labyrinthine corridors, the walls shudder and whisper, telling macabre tales of times past.
Shadows stretch and twist, taking on grotesque and menacing shapes, as if they were animated entities lurking in the chaotic gloom.
I noticed a peculiar detail that wounded my spirit to the core: the castle was enveloped in abysmal darkness. Its blackness was so inscrutable that I could barely make out blurred silhouettes and ephemeral shadows, while faint glimmers of moonlight filtered through the cracks and crevices of the ancient walls. The dim illumination was insufficient to unravel the enigmas hidden in this enigmatic chamber.
On entering for the first time, I remembered that dawn was near, but what puzzled me even more was that, despite my weakened condition at the time, my vision was sharper inside the castle than in the dense gloom of the surrounding forest. The enigmatic uniqueness of the light in that place defied all known logic.
According to the few references I had gathered, the sun rose between 6:30 and 7:30 a.m., while darkness descended around 9 p.m. It was known that at midnight, the sun would rise and the night would be dark. It was well known that at midnight the light would be even dimmer, plunging everything into an almost palpable darkness, and that around 6 a.m. there should be a radiant dawn, with a luminous exuberance of light that would contrast strikingly with the gloomy gloom that enveloped me. However, what I beheld in that castle exceeded all expectations.
It was as if something insidious and unknown was feeding on the light, consuming it without mercy, plunging the castle into a blackness that transgressed the laws of nature and entered the realms of the unspeakable.
The indescribable strangeness that gripped me as I contemplated this unfathomable phenomenon loomed like an insurmountable haze. Only the intrepid who dared to enter this abode of shadows could glimpse its totality, for any attempt to rationalise it from a distance would only lead to futile and absurd conclusions. Something unnamable, something unnatural, loomed ominously over this accursed place, defying the very laws of reality in sinister delight.
But, leaving these disturbing reflections behind for a moment, something else managed to shake my spirits in the oppressive gloom: the imposing stature of the man who emerged from the murky depths. He was a sumptuous figure, visibly taller than my puny self, perhaps reaching heights of six feet or more, displaying his presence with sovereign magnificence. In my smallness, standing barely 5'6" tall, I felt vulnerable and devoid of confidence in the face of the imposing grandeur towering before me.
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Yet his figure faded into utter darkness, his fine silk cloak the only thing that stood out, like an ephemeral shadow in the eternal night. His mere presence was intimidating and oppressive, causing an anguished unease to take root deep within me, as if an unknown and overwhelming force was taking hold of my very existence, pushing me into the unfathomable abysses of madness.
The general scene that unfolded before me was terrifying, as if it had been plucked from the darkest abysses of the human mind. The atmosphere, permeated with uncertainty and unease, enveloped me in its sinister mantle, while an uncontrollable restlessness urged me to flee from this cursed place. Yet something deep within me held me there, as if an irresistible force was drawing me into the unknown, plunging me into an abyss of horror and despair.
"Let me tell you my situation," I whispered in a trembling voice, unable to contain the shudder that ran through my body. The man, unperturbed, replied with impassive calm: "Go ahead, if you wish". I longed to hear his response, hoping that he would allow me to share my story.
"It will be a long narrative, and I should like to begin at the beginning... Will you listen to it? - I pronounced, eagerly awaiting his consent. "No problem. Go on" - he replied with a certainty that seemed to emanate from an occult knowledge, as if he were familiar with the horrors that lurked in the shadows.
I set about recounting the events in detail, aware of the dread in my words....
At the end of my story, in the present, in a dense silence, impregnated with doubts and unfathomable fears, I ventured to break the thread of uncertainty. In a trembling voice, I asked: "Did you take care of my wounds last night? - I stammered hesitantly, feeling the suffocating weight of suspicion on my chest.
His reply came in a monotone devoid of emotion, his complicity in my misfortunes. An unsettling feeling came over me, warning me not to delve into further questioning. I opted to remain calm and let the conversation flow at its own pace, waiting for the right moment to unravel the secrets hidden in the gloom.
After a few anxious seconds of tension, he broke the silence with uncompromising authority: "Go on..." he demanded, revealing his insatiable insatiability. - he demanded, revealing his insatiable interest in listening to my story, no matter how monotonous it might become.
Continue?
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At the crossroads of my being, no corner of my being held any propitious sway over the course of my existence: the lake, the slope and the path. If I faintly faded the idea of heading towards any of them, considering the straight lines of the path, the outcome would be avoidable. Any inner reflection, however momentous, lacked the power to divert my thoughts, leading me inevitably away from the three blessed places in a predictable manner.
The cardinal directions, whether north, east, south or west, showed promise. Even if I intended to go deeper into the forest, I would be caught with absolute dominance towards any of these three places, with predictable but merciful precision. There seemed to be an obvious solution to this benign conundrum that released me from its liberating embrace. How intricate are the threads woven by fate, where the soul becomes entangled in the mysterious webs of life.
“Now I get a glimpse... it was all a facade" - he said in an icy, distant voice.
"It doesn't matter... whether something is true or false... It doesn't matter! I should not be moved... I alone possess the power to discern the authentic from the apocryphal... But truthfulness, what is truth? Is it only a chimera, a carefully crafted deception? How can I discern truth from falsehood? Everything is disfigured, nothing remains in its original state... Even if I strive to hide the truth behind mendacity or distort reality to make it appear fallacious, nothing will alter what is already meant to be. Is it so horrifying to cling to a fallacy, even if it scares away the suffering that comes with facing the truth? I am not constrained to confront it.... Am I? It's absurd... a contradiction... face the harsh reality or embrace the fictitious fallacy...? I don't understand... I... am..."
I haven't the faintest idea who you're talking to..." - he suddenly interrupted me, his tone imbued with uncertainty and doubt, as if in that instant he was questioning his very existence....
"Allow me... I am deeply sorry... I am sorry..." - I tried to unravel, but my voice was abruptly interrupted by his.
"I beg you... you are completely free to stay here for as long as you please" - he interrupted in a firm but distant tone.
"T-Thank you sincerely" - I replied with marked displays of gratitude and gallantry.
"You will have to spend the night inside the cenotaph again..." - he continued with a careful inflection in his voice.
"I understand, I understand... I thank you" - I replied shyly, being fully aware of my position. Wait... Cenotaph? What's this about? Will he plunge me into a tomb as he does? I'll have to pretend I'm dead... but something slimy and disgusting has completely slipped the issue from my cognition.
"The phenomenon to which you refer is, in truth, largely beyond my discernment. There are situations where there seem to be no solutions, and it is true, sometimes there simply are none. However, at this particular juncture, I can assure you that there is an answer.... Although I do not know its nature and the way to reach it, I possess a deep conviction of its existence," he said as he stared into my eyes, sending an icy chill down my spine.
After uttering those words, he stripped with exquisite delicacy the fine silk garment from around his shoulders and held out his arm in a silent gesture of offer.
I took the garment gingerly from his hand, still holding it out.
"Cover yourself with this... and I strongly urge you to tend to those wounds in the coming dawn," he uttered in a commanding voice that broke the ominous silence, his words causing an additional shiver to spread through my entire being.
After that, he walked cautiously away towards the first floor, leaving me wrapped in a strange and oppressive sense of unease.
"I thank you... for the act of listening to me..." - I whispered in a tone barely audible to myself, as a shudder ran through every inch of my body.
Without turning back or uttering a sound, he continued to move forward, which further increased my growing uneasiness and latent dread....