Return to coarseness

Lihal stood at the edge of the landing that overlooked the main hall.

An assortment of well-dressed men and women stood ready below her, meeting her gaze from above as if waiting for any semblance of direction to leave her hushed lips.

They were the servants of the Strousse family, ones under Lihal’s care specifically. As the sole heiress of the Strousse family, she was tasked with acting as the overseer of their estate.

“Let’s begin.” Lihal spoke simply with furrowed eyes.

In an instant, the servants burst forth into action.

First, the lamplight of the manor was extinguished, bathing the room in faint shade. Second, the servants painted their faces a ghastly white colour, and drenched themselves in vivid splashes of red. Third, they all sat in position afore the entrance of the estate, waiting patiently to greet the arrival of a man Lihal wished would not come back.

“Perhaps this will scare him enough so that he may never choose to return…” She whispered callously underneath her breath.

She glanced up at the glimmer of the ceiling, hung high in ornate fashion. A chandelier stood posed above the main hall, holding dozens of candles in sconces that seemed to shimmer against its golden exterior like dancers painted red.

A sigh escaped her perched lips, ones that had been carefully painted as if to present the picturesque perfection of herself. Her hair had been tied back tied in an attempt to display the fair skin of her face that had been cultivated with precision to eliminate any and all blemishes.

Lihal didn’t truly feel like perfection, however.

“You of all people shouldn’t be pricked by thorns…” She spoke softly, her regretful gaze falling towards the floor.

///

Over the course of the days I had been apart from the Heiress, I had pondered on the course I wished to take with her. I knew that Lihal was a person who was facing an obstacle on her own path, and she had no way to simply move past it.

I wanted to show her a way to ignore it in its entirety, to walk around it and continue forward.

I stepped into the darkened manor, one in which all the curtains had been drawn, and the lamplight extinguished in its entirety.

“Lihal!” I called out into the shadows.

There was no one who called back in response, leaving me alone within the quiet darkness.

A face marked a ghastly white suddenly appeared before me. It was a man dressed well within a suit, a button-up shirt sitting layered underneath a midnight-black suit vest. His slacks were sleek and trim against his pleated white socks. In all semblances of aesthetic, he radiated normalcy. What brought my gaze towards him within the darkness was the illumination of the oil lamp he held gently between his calloused fingertips, which shone bright onto his ghostly expression marked bright-white like pearl.

“This is not a place you should be, young one.” He spoke with a creaky, aged tone of voice.

“I would not want to be anywhere else, sir.” I smiled softly in response.

His expression quickly turned towards confusion as he looked on at me. As if on queue, several others appeared beside him. They were men and women dressed fine and quaint as he had been, although the rest of them had been covered in splotches of dark red, carnelian like blood.

“We serve to warn you, young one.” They spoke in unison. “You must turn back, before it’s too late.”

They spoke as if acting out a badly written script. I had spent enough time around Theresia to know the parallel of written genius.

“Lihal, you’re in here somewhere, aren’t you?” I smiled softly as I spoke, ignoring the words of those that had gathered around me. “It’s a funny joke, I must admit… the effort itself is admirable, at least.”

A figure emerged from the shadows, carrying an annoyed scowl upon her face.

“Why!?” She yelled, standing before me. “Why after all of that, are you still here!? You’re supposed to be terrified…”

My eyes widened upon hearing her words. This was Lihal’s idea of nightmarish proportion. It was the fear factor of a child sheltered within her home. It was amusing, and almost adorable in that way.

“Well, it wasn’t so terrifying that I would run away…” I laughed softly. “Besides, I told you I would be here, didn’t I? I wouldn’t leave after saying that.”

Her expression twisted into one of shock in an instant.

“Watch out!” A voice called out suddenly from the shadows.

“What-?” I spoke suddenly, surprise lurking within my eyes as I watched shade descend from the ceiling.

Candlelight burst forth above us. Illuminated in the darkness was the cascading silhouette of gold which fell fast from the ceiling. My eyes widened, and in an instant I lurched forth, knocking Lihal to the ground below.

A chandelier had fallen from the ceiling right above where we had been standing. Whether it was part of her plan, she surely had not meant to stand underneath it when it fell. Wax and flame littered the red-carpeted floor around us, fire dancing softly upon its surface as if refusing to be extinguished.

“Lihal, are you okay?” I asked of her with widened eyes.

I held her gently in my arms, having fallen to my knees to cover her from the harm of flame’s rain.

She looked up towards me in response, but my gaze had become hazed.

The vision in my left eye became blurred with streaks of red.

Lihal reached a hand out towards my forehead, and pulled her hand back with shock as her fingertips were painted carnelian with blood. I could feel my heart ache upon the sight of the eeking red puddles, but I ignored it for a simple moment.

I could see her hands shaking visibly through the red film that clung to my irises, so I took them up gently in my own.

“You’re hurting, aren’t you?” I smiled regretfully. “You’ve always been hurting… you’ve never known any other way to live than to wear those thorns to protect yourself… is that why you’re trying to push me away?”

“Yes…” She spoke quietly in response.

Tears formed at the edge of her eyelids, begging for release upon her flushed cheeks.

“Why…? Why are you being so nice…?” Lihal cried. “I tried to scare you away… and I ended up hurting you… even still you’ll worry about me before yourself…?”

“I just want to show you that you deserve more than you offer yourself, Lihal.” I smiled. “You deserve to live as you.”

Her eyes took on a look of confusion, and her lips quivered as she let a singular close-held question escape them.

“Can I really live as me?” Lihal asked of me. “Around you, can I let go of my thorns?”

“I’m telling you that you can.” I laughed. “Even with blurred vision, I can see clearer than you. Open your eyes, Lihal. Don’t you see that you’re safe here?”

The world became warmer within her eyes in an instant. Even within the cool shadows, she felt safety of security in that moment. Forever had she been scared to be herself because of the chains imposed upon her. It felt strange to her, to be thornless.

“Thank you, brother.” She whispered softly.

I was taken aback for a moment, my face growing flush with embarrassment as I looked down upon the tear-laced woman who knelt within my arms. I moved softly away the hair that clung to her tear-strewn cheeks and smiled.

“Cry and feel better, Lihal.” I spoke gently in return. “You can use my shoulder to dry your face as much as you want right now, so let your heart rest.”

—

Dressed in yellow rather than white, and wearing earrings of molded clay rather than pearl, a girl stepped out into the hall of her home. A birthmark sat upon her cheek, visible against her lack of maquillage.

Despite the cold darkness of the hall, she wore a bright smile on her face, moving slowly atop the soft-carpeted rug, lacking any semblance of footwear worn.

Dancing amidst the candlelight, she spun endlessly in circles as she stared up at the ceiling. In the darkness, it still looked brighter than it had before. She could see the embellishments upon the parchment walls, and the shadows of the candleflame that would dance alongside her.

And as she danced, she failed to notice the creaking of the dark-oak door at the edge of the hall, that had been lined with iron framing. A figure that matched perfectly the shade of the manor stepped forward, with a scowl set between her sunken cheeks and her sharpened gaze.

“To smile so constantly… I wonder what could be making you so happy, girl…?” The woman spoke coldly.

“To be rid of your presence, I was elated, stepmother.” Lihal smiled simply in return.

Her beam would not fade.

A face marked a ghastly white suddenly appeared before me. It was a man dressed well within a suit, a button-up shirt sitting layered underneath a midnight-black suit vest, and he wore a ghostly expression on his face.

“This is not a place you should be.” He spoke simply.

And the woman shrank back in horror. Her face fell pale-white, and her once sharpened eyes shuddered.

And the woman in yellow who wore coloured clay upon her ears danced away happily.

In the hallway of a manor filled with darkness, the curtains were pulled away to allow the warmth of the sunrays to pool inside, and in their grace, a thornless rose bloomed.