I point to myself with a raised brow--something I find myself doing often for the past few minutes.
"Me?"
The Viscountess snaps her fingers. And the room goes black, enveloped in a thick blanket of darkness.
But the darkness only lasts for a split second. Soon my vision returns yet I'm left staring wide-eyed at her performance. From my peripheral view, I see a dark purple mist surround all corners of the study room, leaving a clear space in between which is the area where the Viscountess and I sits.
I am isolated by her magic at all ends.
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum!
It is the sound of my beating heart, one of the reactions accompanying the coldness I feel and the circus in my stomach. My body is tensed like a bowstring ready to set loose.
The use of magic is strictly prohibited unless approved in certain cases.
The use of magic for personal whim is strictly prohibited unless authorized by the Imperial House.
The use of magic is strictly prohibited in public spaces and any residence unauthorized by the Imperial House.
The Use of Magic--a very complex section of the constitution that applies to every citizen of Naza and every inch of the Empire. But the Viscountess--courageous or suicidal--casually violates this rule.
Her eyes are serious and unyielding. "Now that I am sure no one can hear, allow me to speak clearly, dear."
I didn't respond. To say I am petrified is accurate, but beyond that, I find myself being mesmerized by her ability to use magic. It is evident in the way my eyes stay glued to the mystic appearance of the purple mist.
The mist swirls, glowing faintly and writhing as though it's alive.
It looks alive.
In the way it entwines with itself, weaving through space and floating. Yet the mist does not enclose us. It hovers around as though limited by a circular boundary which covers the space the Viscountess and I are seated.
I've only ever seen magic being used during the broadcasted Arena Shows at the Central Park, but never had it been this close to me.
Live.
Real.
As a commoner, the chances of encountering magic is low. And should I wish to encounter magic as a commoner, it would mean I want to find myself in a dangerous situation where I'm haunted by an asura and need a knight to save me. Then would I see magic up close. Else, never.
Magic has always been the domain of aristocrats.
"Again, I am Viscountess Ashbourne." The words of the strange woman draw my attention back to her. "Widowed at heart, married on paper."
Before I can contemplate the meaning of her words, the Viscountess continues unperturbed by whatever I might think. "Nineteen years ago on the eve of the blood moon, before the current advancement of technology and magic, I gave birth to twins. An abomination before the gods of Ashbourne. Perhaps if it was possible then to know gender before birth, I would have lost not only my life but the lives of my children. So that was my saving grace."
"On the night I gave birth to twins, an hour later, I was presented with an ultimatum by my husband."
There is something unsettling about the chill in Viscountess Ashbourne's eyes. There is something mad in her eyes as she speaks.
She is reminiscing.
Her eyes stare into the distance, lost in her world.
"My darling lover said, 'I have killed the maids and I have killed the guards. I have killed all in the vicinity who could have heard the sound of two children being delivered. Now, I either kill you and your curses. Or you kill one and present yourself the perfect wife and mother you should have been'. That is what my loving husband said, word for word."
I am utterly disgusted.
To say his words are cruel and a reflection of animalistic thoughts and dangerously primitive mind is a big understatement.
This is beyond outlandish.
Even animals ought to feel insulted being grouped under the same branch as this man. As an animal, I would commit suicide if someone proved I shared traits with such a person.
"Why-"
The strain in my voice is obvious, but Viscountess Ashbourne does not let me continue.
"I cried, I begged, I groveled at his feet in a pool of my blood, but all I received was a ruthless beating, insults and more threats. I didn't know what to do, who to meet or how to beg for the frost in his heart thawed."
"But in my misery, I found hope. Rather than the death of all, I chose to kill one."
My brows spring to the ceiling at her words, lips pursed in disbelief.
Viscountess Ashbourne seems to return to the same space I am in. Her gaze is no longer distant, but piercing and heated, directed towards me.
"Well, to be accurate...." she drawls, "Kill is not the appropriate term. I contacted my sister in the dead of the night, sought her help and feigned the death of my eldest daughter. I chose to keep my son close. Because he would be the heir and the weapon to end the name of Ashbourne."
Talk about a plot twist.
I knew noblemen were abnormal, but this is inhumane. To think that the leaders who shout for human rights are the very same individuals who violate them.
Such pretenses, what joy do they find?
Miserable fools.
Viscountess Ashbourne bows her head in dismay, grasping her temple as she breaks into an abrupt sob. It's less of a cry and more of the wretched sound of lost souls.
She mourns, "Adir, Adir, precious Adir, they killed him! Dismembered, tortured, and body thrown into the pits of Vankir-- the graveyard for vile criminals. But Adir was nothing like them! And maybe that's why... that's why he was murdered."
I don't know what to say, all I feel is a stifled and choking sensation in my chest as I watch the Viscountess breakdown. I can vaguely guess where this is leading to, but I am more concerned about how to comfort her than the series of questions that threaten to consume me.
Hesitantly, I stretch my hand to hers which rests on the table and I grab her hand in a loose grip. The Viscountess' hand is rough, filled with callouses and unlike what one would expect of a noble lady.
She responds enthusiastically to my gesture, gripping my hand with such strength that makes me wince slightly.
Her cries gradually quell, she exhales and lifts her head up, eyes locked on mine. In her eyes, I see no sorrow, no grieving or pain, all I see is madness straight from the abyss. It sends shivers down my spine, goosebumps rising on my arms.
My fingers twitch as I attempt to withdraw my hand from her hold, but Viscountess Ashbourne does not relent. My hand stays firmly locked in her grip.
"You are not Jade," She declares. "You are Adira Ashbourne."
I pull my hand out of hers with force, lips curling with distaste evident on my face.
"I am not Adira. Neither am I-"
"Oh, but you are!" The Viscountess laughs with no expression of humour, a sad smile plastered on her face. But this smile does not erase the look of perversion in her eyes.
How can someone just walk into my life and change my identity? Me? The Viscountess' daughter? An Aristocrat of all things life could throw at me? But my Mother-... I can't even think right at this point.
"Nineteen years ago, I gave you to my sister Jasmine and she fled with you under a new identity, relocating to the outskirts of the Empire. We forged a new home for both you and her, and for years, I've been protecting this identity."
"Jasmine is not some commoner that can disappear and it would be swept under the rug. And should anyone trace her and find you-- a splitting lookalike to me, I can assure you death and Jasmine gruesome consequences."
"This doesn't make sense!" My voice rises in protest. "You cannot just walk into someone's life abruptly, claim to be their Mother and reveal some aristocratic family madness, then expect me to believe or accept you! And so what if you are? So what if the words you say are the truth? Why the sudden appearance now? Why the visit? Why!"
I do not mince my words nor let them pass off in a soft tone, my tone is piercing, inquisitive and judgmental.
The Viscountess does not soften under my pressure, her features harden and her eyes seem to reflect the sun--a blazing fury of heat.
"Because if I had dared to be apart of your life, dared to show up, you would no longer be apart of mine. Dead, dead you would be! You have no idea what I sacrifice to ensure the safety of your mother and you. You have no idea. So what if I walk in suddenly? Did life ever treat me as gently as I make it for you?"
"Years have gone by, you've lived a beautiful, ordinary life, far from the corruption of the nobles and the pain and agony we all go through yet you remain a full-fleshed aristocrat, a healthy human when you could've been dead. Tell me Adira, have I not tried?"
I am utterly speechless. Not because I lack words but because the words I know don't seem to be enough to express my feelings.
"Say, Viscountess, when last did you get your head checked? How did you skip over my perspective, skip over logic and assume a position of righteousness? I implore you to look into furthering your education. Because if you cannot explain simply, why you show up and reveal all these, when assuming all you say is true, you could've let me live as I am--if you cannot explain this simple logical line of reasoning, I must commit to a fast for your household."
Her face twists into an ugly expression, anger shimmering beneath her skin as she slams her hand on the table.
Bam!
The sound does not discourage me. I am too far gone in my own feelings to care for hers.
"Listen-!" She begins, but I interrupt her.
"No, you listen. If all you say is true, why are you here? Motherly love? I doubt. Be straight with me, Viscountess. For my mother to let me speak with you, I assume she has a certain understanding of all these. But whatever she may think is hers to think, I have the right to not understand or choose to doubt all you've said. And if you must communicate with me, you must speak on my terms."
A heavy silence ensues in the study room after my speech. Anger is still visible in the Viscountess' stormy grey eyes, but I see a silver lining of reasoning. She leans back to her chair and stares at me in such a calculating manner that I cannot decipher if she wishes to dissect me or manipulate me.
All of a sudden, she smiles. The Viscountess bursts into laughter so gleeful I cannot help but look towards the direction of the door which is now blocked by the midst.
An escape from this room might be necessary any minute from now.
A few seconds later, she stops laughing and speaks, gazing languidly into the distance. "Since the death of Adir, the legitmate heir to the House of Ashbourne, I have plunged into an abyss. And unfortunately for me, after being thrashed by my husband after delivery, I lost the capacity to give birth again so now, I have no one to replace him."
"I poured my life into raising Adir, because I was grooming a weapon against the house of Ashbourne. Perhaps, it became too obvious what I intended to do and because the weapon was almost fully shaped, the Ashbourne household called for complete elimination. I, the perpetrator, remain safe but Adir, he was ruthlessly murdered."
I sit patiently, paying keen attention to her words, hoping to solve the mysteries in my mind and trying to ignore the fast beating of my heart which threatens to fly out from my chest.
She continues her monologue, "But how can obsession so deep fall so easily? I didn't hate Ashbourne before that night, I despised them even before but my hope was in my supposed lover, my hope was in the ironic feeling of being among, but I was never among, I was just a victim and a prey."
"Over the years, my hate for them has grown. And with the passing of Adir, it burns hotter, so deeply integrated with my flesh that I fear there is no me without hate for Ashbourne."
She pauses. "And Adira, this is where you come in."
From my spirit to God above, I have never felt so unsettled in life.
Today, today I learn to despise stormy grey eyes.