Chương 87: Chapter 83.5-Old Chosen Friends?

The ground in the infirmary is wiped up as the Janitor, Gerta Egon, continues to clean as she always does. The mop swipes from side to side in a smooth and crisp motion, like that of a brush stroke or even a string. Gerta wrings out the mop as she continues on her daily duties. This is calming, normal, and most importantly boring. Something that Gerta has grown to appreciate in her old age. What she hasn't come to appreciate is the presence of a certain someone.

"You could never hide from me," Gerta says as she continues to mop. From the shadows of the room, Abrigon steps out as if he has always been there.

"Hide? I would never," Abrigon says with a smug smile. Gerta scoffs as she continues her daily duties.

"I see age hasn't made you any less foolish."

"Nor has it made you any less dickish. Although it has aged you. Considerably. Why don't you fix that?" Abrigon asked as if he were speaking about an appliance.

"Not everyone has the same inclinations as you. Some of us are okay with aging," Gerta says as she wrings out the mop.

"If only I could," he whispers to himself. Gerta finally looks up from her work.

"Why are you here?"

"Can't an old friend stop by for some tea?" he asks with a mischievous smile.

"We haven't seen each other in almost three hundred years, and this is when you decided to stop by? I'm not a fool. Out with it," she demands. Abrigon leans against a chair.

"I never said you were one. You've always been sharp after all. So sharp that I want your opinion on someone." Gerta looks over at him with suspicion.

"My opinion or the [Fate Spinner]'s opinion?"

"Both. You are one and the same after all." Gerta narrows her eyes and then sighs.

"To think you would ask me this. This must be important. I can assume you're calling in a favor?"

"Yes. However many you need," he says, dropping the devilish smile. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Gerta looks him over and then nods.

"The name."

"Carlos Juárez. I believe you know him," Abrigon says as his devilish smile returns. Gerta shakes her head before plucking the air. A purple string appears between her fingertips. A representation of one's life. Carlos Juárez's life. A short one. One yet not lived.

"What do you see?" Abrigon asks as he hovers over the string.

"He was born into love and kindness. A happy family that would have given him the world, but as you know, that is not how it goes for a Vashrin. Tragedy marks his life and Death haunts it, but also… Hope. Faint glimmers of it from within his soul. He will face many tragedies and tribulations that could break him. In the end, he will live a short life. When his thread is cut, he will be alone," Gerta proclaims and then lets go of the thread. Abrigon watches the thread disappear into nothing.

A smile crosses his lips. One that Gerta has not seen in a long time.

"Is this what you wanted to hear?" she asks, curious at the odd display.

"In a way, yes. Now tell me, what do you think?" Gerta studies him for even a hint of his intentions, but fails to get anything. She had forgotten how good a liar he is when he tries.

"Personally, I do not often doubt fate, but…"

"But? What do you see?" he asks with a knowing smile.

"The boy is a liar, a cheat, and a thief. He cuts corners, takes the easy way out, and is allergic to hard work. You can see in his eyes the heaviness of his life, but in his smile, you see something else. Something… pure. I have never seen fate be wrong, but for a moment I was curious if it could be. A dangerous thought. Wouldn't you agree?" she asks a pointed question. Abrigon lets out a small chuckle.

"I know how fate works. You need not remind me."

"Then what are you doing with this child? You know he is not The Chosen One, nor is he you. You are putting the world at risk with this stunt, not to mention his life. Why did you choose him? Why did you damn him?" she asks with a hint of anger.

"I didn't, but I'm responsible for him now," he says.

"The Chosen One is dead!" A voice screams out. Gerta looks at him with surprise.

"Don't worry. He's fine, probably," Abrigon jokes. Gerta goes back to mopping the floor as Abrigon moves back towards the shadows.

"One last thing, Gerta. I won't ask you to help him, but keep an eye on him. Maybe you'll see something interesting happen. Just a thought." Abrigon disappears into the shadows as Gerta slaps the wet mop onto the floor.

"Messing with fate. You truly never learn, do you, old friend?" she whispers to herself, determined to ignore him, but… Somewhere deep in her mind, a single thought has wormed its way in. What if he's right? Gerta shakes her head before letting out a sigh. Damn it. You always had a way with words.