The notoriety of a once-forgotten name

I wiped the unending fog from my glasses as I stepped inside a room filled to the brim with stacks of parchment. It was cramped, and filled with a mood that made my heart feel uneasy. It was not too unlike the passion that was present around Theresia, although it felt twisted in a strange fashion.

A man sat quietly in a leather-bound chair, spinning endlessly in circles upon it as he stared wistfully up at the ceiling. With avidity and impatience, he drummed his fingers rhythmically upon the back of his other hand.

His skin was a shade of sepia, darkened against the dim-orange lamplight of his office. His hair was curled and short, split into sections of varying white and black tones. He wore a white button-up shirt that had been missing several buttons near the top, revealing his chest which had been marked with dark-black ink like portraiture upon his flesh.

I had made my way towards the office of the man who stood before me to give my thanks. He was the organiser of a small newsletter, a man who worked by his lonesome. The man before me had heard of the ‘Baron of Lilacs’, and immediately picked up on the story. He was a man responsible for the sudden notoriety tied to my name.

“So you’re the Baron of Lilacs?” He asked of me.

His expression was confused, as if I didn’t fit his own mental image of that title.

“That is the name I have gone under, yes.” I smiled softly.

“I was expecting someone a little more... grandiose?” He pondered. “Quite like the Undine King, I suppose.”

It was a name most often spoken with vitriol.

“The Undine King?”

“Our noble and proud leader.” He laughed softly. “Although I suppose now, no one would refer to him as such. His war has grown to sow hatred within hearts, even those of his own people.”

“Why serve under his rule, then?” I asked of him.

“Pardon?”

“I’ve read your paper. Just as much as history has been carved to fit the undine narrative, too have your articles carried such a feeling.” I grinned. “You are a political entity, are you not?”

He was someone I had come to know through his words, as I had many others before. He was one who I had witnessed in the piazza that stood in the center of the bronze city.

“Ah, so you know that much.“ He grinned. “Those are my own motivations, however. I love to twist a good narrative into shape, like a sculptor of reality. Perhaps I only love playing God in this fashion. No one likes the King, not unless I twist his image to suit such a view of his personage.”

He was not a person I would have chosen to associate with. While my written words spoke the truth of my heart, his heart was one that bent the facts of reality to fit the truths of others. He was a man of deception, a political pundit of falsities.

He sat up in his chair, facing me as he spoke with an intense excitement, as if I was present only to serve his passion.

“Well, it’s not as if we’re here to talk about nobility, are we?” He smiled. “After all, you’re not a real baron, are you?”

“I am simply Agreste.” I spoke in return.

“My name is December, or at least, that’s what everyone has grown to call me by.” The man before me grinned. “Although, you can call me whatever your heart desires, Agreste.”

I sat down in a chair that had opposed him, meeting his gaze with my own.

“If it pleases you, I would rather ‘Agreste’ and the ‘Baron of Lilacs’ stay as two separate entities.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m not sure as of yet. It just feels right.” I said softly in reply. “Right now, I’m sure it would bring me greater trouble anyway...”

Looking up towards me, I could see clearly that his eyes were like glistening amber underneath the lamplight.

“Why grace me with your presence now, Baron?” December asked. “I’ve been writing about you and your appearances for nearly a month.”

“I’ve seen your kind words within your articles. I truly don’t deserve all the praise you offer me.” I smiled in return. “Now, after a month, it just seemed right to offer you my thanks.”

He picked up his ink pen, starting to scrawl notes onto parchment as we spoke. It was as if a simple conversation had become an interview in an instant.

“Is praise not why you do what you do?” December asked of me. “If that really is the case, I’m happy to offer it to you. If it’s not the case, then I would be curious to know what your purpose is...”

“I just want to make people smile...” I spoke softly.

“Is that really true?”

My expression was shocked for a moment, as if I didn’t expect him to contest that in such a way. I quickly composed myself and returned to him with a serious gaze.

“I don’t quite understand the question.” I said, shaking my head as I spoke.

“You wear a falsified mask upon your face, Baron of Lilacs.” He grinned. “Even I can tell that you’re lying to yourself.”

My eyes widened, and my gaze fell towards the ground.

Why in that moment, did the stranger before me force me to be so introspective?

I didn’t want to confront my heart. I was scared of my own falsities.

Yet, in the face of December, I did so anyway.

“No, you’re right.” I spoke hesitantly. “The happiness in a person that my words bring, the smiles upon their faces... there’s more meaning to me than simply making them feel good. It’s like being told that I’m fine, that I’m doing something good... a smile is like unspoken praise-”

I shook my head as if to banish the thought.

“No, that’s not exactly it.” I continued. “I could do without praise, as long as everyone’s gaze fell upon me.”

I felt as if my heart had always been lying to me.

Those were only truths of my past, however. Now, I just wanted my heart to be open to the world.

I wanted to be seen. I wanted to be recognised. I wanted words to be spoken in return to mine.

I wanted more, and I wanted everything. Now, I didn’t feel as if I was deserving of nothing. My wants and desires clashed with my common sense, for none of them were needs in my eyes.

“Is it too vain, to want to be in the spotlight?” I asked of him. “Am I demeaning my kindness with conceited behaviour?”

December stopped scrawling upon the parchment, setting his ink pen down as if refusing to document any further. That was his kindness.

“What’s wrong with wanting to be seen?” December asked of me.

I bit at my tongue, my eyes shaking in the continuance of his words.

“So then, can I too want to feel beloved...?”

December’s eyes widened with surprise, as if it was something he didn’t expect to be uttered from the lips of a person whose words were always so flowery and bittersweet.

“If that’s all you want, then perhaps we can start right here, Agreste.” December laughed suddenly.

He extended his hand towards me, an offer borne of the truth of his heart.

“If you want, then I can belove you.” He spoke softly. “As a good friend.”

I did not agree with December’s motives in his entirety. For the most part, he was the antithesis of a person I would have grown to like.

But glancing up at him, I realised that there was not too much of a divide between us. After putting a name to his face, and gazing upon the whole of his heart, I discovered that December was just a person.

So I took December’s hand softly, because people can be great friends.