The Empty Mirror
Chapter 9: Tower of Babel
In the turmoil of my reflections, I was struck by the disturbing question: Who is the ultimate authority to dictate what is real and what is not? Are we mere architects of our own truth and authenticity? As I pondered my thoughts, the soft trill of swallows broke into my reverie, shaking me out of my reverie. When I looked up, I was perplexed to find that the firmament had been plunged into oppressive darkness, as if midnight had reclaimed its sovereign throne. A shiver snaked down my spine, but I could not allow fear to imprison me. With determination, I hurried towards the imposing castle that stood majestically before me.
Finally, I reached the threshold of the castle and, without hesitation, pounded vehemently on the wooden door with my fist. In the blink of an eye, the door swung wide open, revealing its lord and master. It was he, an enigmatic being holding the door with one hand, concealing the sinister interior of the castle. His stance was firm, imposing, and his gaze seemed to pierce the barriers of the soul. With an icy tone but imbued with a subtle hint of intrigue, he questioned me, "Who are you?"
In that instant, all my confidence vanished in a breath, leaving me unable to articulate a response. Despite this, I summoned the last reserves of courage and, in a trembling but determined voice, I replied, "I am.... Giselle. Silence took over the atmosphere, while the halo of mystery and confusion thickened around us?
In a rotten time, within the walls of the Lunatic Castle.
After the fading of the young woman, I found myself plunged into a perpetual existence, condemned to endless punishment. My ability to grasp the passage of time in the tangible world, like human beings, vanished, escaping my conventional experience of its inexorable flow. As an entity alien to humanity, my perceptions and conceptions were radically removed.
As a creature immune to the relentless temporal becoming, its influence did not affect me in the slightest. Upon first crossing the threshold of the castle, I immediately fell into a deep sleep, close to the majesty of the feasting hall. My lethargy emulated the condition of an inert statue, a state devoid of life and filled with emptiness.
I slept for what seemed to me an infinite number of centuries, and I say this with absolute certainty, for even in that time I did not entirely lose track of time.
Imagine, if you will, one who has patiently waited for long years, enduring the crushing frustration and despair that such an undertaking entails, both physically and mentally. However, if I were to give myself to such a wait, for years and even centuries, you would see that I would no longer experience the fluidity and weight that usually accompanies prolonged expectation.
It would be as if I were tearing at the very fabric of causality, entering a realm in which I am totally devoid of sensibility, without an ounce of delicacy. If I were to describe my true nature, I would say that I am a "Creature who defies and transforms concepts". However, I nourish doubts about my own words. One can never be completely certain about what one says, even after repeating it again and again with great effort. There always remains a trace of uncertainty and intrigue that whispers the existence of some margin of error yet to be unravelled. And the mere realisation of not finding it is even more disturbing.
One can never be absolutely certain about anything. The devil lurks perpetually in the smallest details, and this is something we all know in our innermost being.
I think it is precisely this that gives my being a terrifying ambiguity. I am aware of this, but I will never be able to fully express what I feel and think in simple words. The meaning of words is in constant metamorphosis, as they have ceased to exist in their original state. They are victims of the probability of being altered or distorted in some way, which plunges them into perpetual imprecision.
Thought itself is constrained by the limits of language, although it is an inescapable and valuable tool, and yet it harbours a margin of falsity. All this leads me to ask questions of a transcendental nature: Are we the ones who determine truth and authenticity, or is it something that transcends our capacities and is beyond our reach? I can only settle for a vague and imprecise question... As I come to the end of this enigmatic monologue, let me say that, as I proceeded, I was swept along by currents of deviation, moving away from the initial goal I had in my thoughts. Again, the hooves of time have distorted my perception, plunging me into a maelstrom of indescribable confusion and bewilderment.
From the moment the neat marble-haired young woman vanished, a sense of eternity enveloped my being, devouring me mercilessly. In that first encounter, my thoughts were constrained to conceive of her presence as an omen of my punishment, an unmistakable sign that this abysmal place was the inexorable destiny to which I was predestined. However, in a fleeting flash of clairvoyance, a disturbing idea took shape in my mind: what if this tenebrous space became a veritable abyss, a maelstrom that devoured my essence and dragged me into a harrowing eternity?
Although it was I myself who, imbued with a fateful destiny, ventured into this abode, driven by the insistence of my holy Ascendant and my religious fervour, a tiny spark of hope still lingered in the depths of my being, yearning for this place to transmute into a sinister abyss destined for those whose outrages against the divine word demanded atonement. Though aware, in my innermost being, that this idea was ephemeral and expiring, my mental faculties were powerless to adequately conceive of the oppressive environment around me....
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I burned with a fervent belief that the young woman had been dispatched to purge her own sins, sins which she vehemently denied as she longed for redemption. As soon as her figure dissipated, however, that thought crumbled into an echo of dust, shattered under the onslaught of my own doubts. Had this frail creature perpetrated crimes as monstrous as my own? Such a possibility seemed like a distorted horizon, an idea that defied logic and corroded the flimsy structure of my sanity.
No one, not even she, could have descended into such dark and depraved abysses....
However, in a fleeting flash of ephemeral comprehension, an unsettling conclusion dawned in my tormented mind: if this space had been erected as a den of punishment and redemption, its purpose would have reached its climax centuries ago. This thought sowed seeds of doubt and distrust deep in my spirit, refusing to accept such an ominous possibility.
Are those beings who inhabit this cosmos indifferent to the quest for redemption, as if they were soulless puppets, mired in inhuman apathy? I find this conception repulsive and grotesque. Humanity cannot be so ungrateful, so lacking in that inner compass that yearns to purify its own sins....
Reality faded into a chaotic whirlwind of perplexity, where words crumbled into intricate labyrinthine tangles and concepts slid down dark and twisted paths. In the midst of this labyrinth of confusion, a fuzzy explanation emerged, a barely palpable suspicion: could it be that, somehow, the unfathomable divine will of God was finally willing to set its gaze upon my being, contemplating the remote possibility of granting me the longed-for forgiveness?
A torrent of unspeakable emotions intertwined their currents in the deepest corner of my being, an inscrutable tangle of hope and dread tangling relentlessly. Like a remote echo of sanity, the idea clung pertinaciously to my doubting mind: was that enigmatic damsel who emerged from the abyss... a celestial being, remanded to this world, bearing a transcendental message of redemption? A disturbing impulse prompted me to rise from my inert position, as I was swept through the mist of uncertainty towards faith in a reality beyond the tangible. Her appearance, attire and bearing evoked a sense of cosmic strangeness, as if she were a wanderer from uncharted planes, an emissary from the celestial spheres destined to convey the divine word. Could this abstraction materialise in my helpless existence?
Defying the barriers of coherence, I ventured down the stairs in search of answers, anxious to unravel the enigma that haunted me. As I reached the threshold of the castle, an unsettling uncertainty gripped my being: had I disregarded his will? Had I dared to refuse the supreme opportunity of my redemption? If that were true, then I would consider myself dispossessed, condemned to a hopeless darkness, without the slightest chance of salvation.
The air grew thick with a maddening miasma as I hesitantly opened the ancient wooden door. An amalgam of longing and apprehension gripped my spirit. Peering outside, I was confronted with an eerie emptiness, a panorama devoid of all life and presence. It was as if the world itself had vanished in an ominous whisper, leaving me a prisoner in the solitude of my thoughts.
My gaze remained fixed on the dark firmament, barely illuminated by the gloom that refused to yield to the night. A shiver ran down my spine as I closed the door with a despondent creak. Despite the desolation that gripped me, my fingers clung to the door, as if searching for an anchor in a sea of confusion.
My mind, tangled in a labyrinth of murky ideas, was rushing into an abyss of uncertainty.
Time stretched into an eternity, as sinister sounds summoned me from the feasting hall. A barely perceptible voice seeped into the recesses of my consciousness, evoking dreamlike images from my deepest reveries. The inscrutable whispers reverberated in my ears, weaving a web of enigma and trepidation. Cautiously, I approached the source of the call, my steps marked by an amalgam of trepidation and apprehension.
The chaotic murmurs intensified as I approached the threshold guarding the banqueting hall, enveloping me in an eerie halo of mystery. Suddenly, a rumble echoed loudly and determinedly from the castle's entrance. Without hesitation, I made my way to the door and opened it slightly.
There she stood, the enigmatic, silver-haired maiden, whose mere presence evoked reminiscences of times past and futures uncertain.
His figure loomed before me, emanating a supernatural aura. His piercing eyes seemed to carry the weight of unfathomable enigmas, as if he had witnessed every nook and cranny of my existence. A shiver snaked down my spine as I met her gaze.
Silently, I waited for her to speak, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind her presence. However, only silence reigned in the air, while an enigmatic smile was plastered on her face. It was as if horror and mystery were intertwined in a macabre dance, imprisoning me in a game of forbidden emotions.
The tension in the air was palpable, and a sense of unease was taking hold of me. Though I struggled to maintain my composure, a deep unease clung to my being, as if I was on the verge of discovering something unimaginable and terrifying. The silver-haired woman advanced slowly, her footsteps echoing eerily in the room.
She spoke no word, but her intense gaze seemed to scrutinise my very existence, as if she were examining the darkest corners of my soul.
I was drawn into a whirlpool of perplexity and fascination, trapped, unable to escape her powerful sway. Who was she and what hidden enigmas were woven between our destinies? Deep within me, a question echoed loudly: Was she an anomaly or an unusual manifestation?
"Who are you?" - I inquired in a firm voice, imbued with a captivating curiosity that seemed to hang in the air.
"I am... Giselle" - she uttered with a mixture of boldness and hesitation in her voice, hinting at her own uncertainty.
I gazed at Giselle with a penetrating gaze, trying to unravel the secrets hidden behind her eyes. Instead of finding answers, however, I found myself plunged into even more abysmal confusion. "W-What's your name?" - Giselle asked with a hint of hesitation, her voice barely audible in the suspenseful air.
"That's not relevant..." - I replied without hesitation, trailing off slightly in my words.
A brief silence took over the space as Giselle assimilated my answer, its meaning echoing in her mind like an ominous echo. She seemed to be my saviour, a glowing figure emerging from the darkness to bring me back to stark reality?
But is this an unshakeable truth? I questioned, feeling the anguish begin to take root deep inside me. Or maybe, just maybe, it's a malicious, cleverly woven lie, designed to drag me further into the maw of unspeakable madness...