Chương 17: Chapter 16: Comfort in Drink

Micheal spent the rest of the day writing the report. He meant it to be short and concise—two pages, maybe even three. But as he dug deeper, more and more questions started popping up in his head. Why was Eliza acting so strange? What really was that creature? And what did the awakening really mean? Indeed, he had many conjectures, educated guesses, but hardly enough proof. When he closed his eyes to think, he'd see that black thing staring back at him from the darkness.

When night came, it became increasingly clear that what he had was not nearly enough. And so, when the next day came, Micheal had decided his next avenue. Right after breakfast, Micheal took a long shower and donned a white buttoned shirt, a pair of long pants, and a dried-out greatcoat.

"Where are you going? Don't tell me you're going back there again?" Marco raised his brows and said sarcastically. Micheal nodded.

"What? I'm surprised you'd want to go back there."

"I need to ask them a few more questions. I left too early yesterday. Besides, I have some suspicion that Eliza's hiding something," Micheal said.

"Should I come with you?"

"You probably shouldn't. I will be home before lunch. Just stay put."

"I should be the one saying that to you."

"I can take care of myself. I won't use my sight there." Micheal opened the front door and stepped outside. Marco sighed.

"Don't get yourself killed." Micheal waved back as he walked down the street. It had snowed mighty hard last night, and every inch of slate and asphalt was buried in a foot-deep layer of snow. He called a coach at the end of the block, and he rode on to West Wall. It took him twice a dozen minutes to arrive. He paid the fare and hobbled inside the apartment complex. He walked up to the fifth floor and stopped at Maria's door. You're already here. How bad could things go? Micheal knocked on the front door.

"Hello? It's me again, Micheal." Eliza opened the door, greeting him with a tired and sunken stare.

"You're… you're back."

"I have a few more questions for your mother, if that's alright," Micheal said.

"Let him in!" Maria's voice echoed inside the apartment. Eliza sighed and stepped aside.

"Come in." Micheal strode inside and gently closed the door behind him. Maria was sitting by the dining table, eating from a steaming hot bowl of vegetable soup.

"Welcome back, young man. We were just having breakfast. Care to join us?" Maria said.

"I just had breakfast. It's alright." Micheal took a seat. Eliza sat down beside Maria, directly in front of the bathroom door. Micheal looked at the elderly Maria, imagining what she was like in the past.

"I'm here to ask about your mother. If you're alright with sharing."

"You want to know more about my mother?" Maria raised her brows. Micheal nodded.

"I need to confirm a few things. If you would." Maria licked her lips and fell into thought for a few seconds.

"Her name was Sera Hanzel. She hailed from further south, in Oriana. She was beautiful—in my prime I couldn't even compare. She was the perfect Death Maiden."

"What generation was she?" Micheal said.

"She was of the eighth. But the blood ran strong within her. It's a shame she died so young. She never even got the chance to see her grandchildren." Maria lowered her head and sighed.

"If I may ask, how did she die?" Micheal said.

"The same illness that haunts me. Brittle Bone. Back then, there wasn't any medicine for it. None that we could afford, at least. Thank the Goddess times have changed," Maria said.

"You've known your mother well, I take it," Micheal said.

"Not as much as I'd like. She died when I was just twenty," Maria said.

"Then would you know about any curses, or otherwise supernatural phenomena that might have affected her?" Micheal said. As they spoke, Micheal noticed Eliza glancing at the half-open bathroom door. What is she looking at?

"Curses? No, at least none that were ever proven," Maria said.

"What do you mean?" Micheal said.

"My mother was arrested for Blasphemy. But after a few days, she was quickly released, and her accusers were punished. Though it did no good to her health," Maria said.

"What kind of Blasphemy?" Micheal said.

"My mother was a chemist. Some bastard took a bottle or more of her medicine and nearly died. He accused my mother of poisoning him with witchcraft. Back in those days, people were afraid of anything. I wouldn't blame them, honestly. Even I was sometimes suspect of Mother." A soft, nostalgic laugh left Maria's mouth.

"I see…" Micheal wrote down the words he heard on the notepad.

"I would have thought your family had a history with curses. It seems I was wrong." Again, Eliza's eyes darted at the bathroom door. Strange… I don't see anyone there…

"No curses, at least none that I know of. I never met her siblings or my grandmother; she didn't like talking about them. And don't bother searching for them. I checked with the registry out of curiosity, and they've all long since died," Maria said.

"A pity. I can't talk to the dead." Micheal closed his notepad and stood up.

"Enough with my questions for now. I discovered a few things with your hair and the paint shavings." Eliza leaned forward, her brows knitting together.

"I was wondering when you'd bring that up," Maria said. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Micheal sat back down.

"I found traces of spirituality on both of them. But it didn't belong to our culprit. It was a higher generation, and it was orange." Eliza gulped.

"Did you figure out who it belonged to?"

"No, not yet at least. But we could tell it was very recent." Micheal peered into Eliza's amber eyes. Eliza averted her gaze.

"Recent? How recent?" Maria said.

"At least seven days. Did the clergy do any sort of purification or cleansing here?"

"I'm not quite sure. They did something, that I saw, but I'm not familiar enough to tell." Micheal nodded.

"I see. They should have done at least a preliminary purification, had they followed procedure. Yet… when did they arrive? The day of your daughter's awakening, or…"

"The next day. I had Eliza call for the Church." The hours don't really match. But there's still a chance… but I doubt it.

"That would be all for now. I'll be sure to write to you should I find more about the awakenings."

"That would be appreciated. You've told us more than the Clergy has," Maria said.

"Before I go, could I use the bathroom?" Micheal said.

"Of course. Go ahead." Eliza looked at the half-open bathroom door for a split second.

"It'll be quick." Micheal stood up and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind him. It was cramped, with stained broken tiles and a small wooden toilet. He approached the rusting sink and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. As he ran his fingers through his slicked-back hair, the air around him dropped to a cold chill. The hairs on his arms stood up, and a prickly feeling rushed down his spine. Something's here. It's not what I saw yesterday. No… it's a ghost. Eliza keeps looking in here.

Don't tell me she sees the ghost as well? That means she was also awakened. But how… I clearly saw that being skipping her. I need to get to the bottom of this. Clearly, the spirituality belongs to Eliza. She's hiding it from me. Not just from me, but it seems from her mother too. I need to talk to her, alone preferably. Micheal stepped back and emerged from the bathroom, instantly feeling the warmth of the crackling furnace smother his skin. He closed the door behind him, sealing away that unnatural cold.

"By the way, is there a market close by? I don't want to walk all the way to the Central District," Micheal said.

"There is. Eliza works there. She can take you there." Maria's lips curled upward. And I don't even need to ask for her. Eliza's eyes widened.

"What?"

"That's perfect, then." Micheal replied with a smile.

"Are you sure, Mother? I don't want to leave you here," Eliza said.

"It'll be fine. I'm not a corpse just yet. Go on," Maria said. Eliza rubbed her eyes.

"Alright, if you say so." Micheal opened the front door, waiting for Eliza to follow.

"Take care now." Maria waved goodbye.

"I'll be back soon." Eliza stepped outside and closed the door.

"Your mother is a kind person, isn't she?" Micheal said.

"Sometimes a little too kind," Eliza replied. As they walked down the rickety steps, Eliza kept looking behind her shoulder as though something was trailing her. Reaching the bottom floor, they left through the front door and set foot into the snow-covered streets of West Wall.

"It's not far. We should hurry; I don't want to leave Mother for too long."

"Then let's take the coach," Micheal said.

"N… no, that would be a waste of money."

"I thought you didn't want to leave your mother for too long?" Micheal raised his brows. Eliza gritted her teeth and looked at the ground.

"Well… she said she'll be fine. You heard her."

"I know you're hiding something from me." Eliza's eyes widened.

"What? What do you mean? I don't—" Micheal whispered, "You can see them, can't you? The souls of the dead." Eliza paled, her breath hitching as her fingers coiled inward. She grabbed Micheal's arm.

"Please, don't tell Mother. Don't tell the Church. You can't do this to me."

"Calm down, I won't do anything. I just want to ask you a few questions, if you'll be honest with me." Eliza's eyes darted across the street, then she glanced quickly behind her. Micheal frowned in understanding.

"How many?"

"Six… let's go somewhere else first." Micheal lifted the sides of his coat, exposing the long silver dagger dangling by his waist.

"Walk with me, Eliza."

"Okay… it's just over the street." Eliza said. They took a right and walked down a familiar stretch of road until they arrived at the old rustic pub. Eliza pushed the doors open and nearly stumbled inside. Micheal smelled faint incense in the air as he followed her inside. The bar was rather empty so early in the morning, with a few lost souls drinking their lives away in the corners.

"There aren't any ghosts here," Eliza said. Micheal spotted a few candles seated by the windowsills, giving off that comforting aroma.

"Aye. I can see that." They sat down by the old wooden counter, and Micheal raised two fingers to the old bald bartender and said, "Beer." He tossed six pence over the counter.

"You didn't need to…"

"It's not fair if I get to drink alone." The bartender nodded and grabbed two glasses off the counter, filling them up till a thick foam rose up to their brims.

"Here you go." He slid them over the table, and they stopped directly in front of them.

"So, when did you start seeing them?" Micheal took a light sip.

"A day after Evelyn went away… I thought I was gonna die the first time I saw them." Eliza took a gulp, emptying a quarter of her glass.

"It's horrifying… and they're everywhere. Walking, shambling. They don't even look human anymore."

"You didn't tell the Church because they'd take you away too. And no one would be left to take care of your mother," Micheal said.

"I can't leave her like this. She'd die without me." Eliza took a deep breath, her voice trembling lightly.

"It must be hard for you."

"You don't know half of it. They're in the streets, in the market… sometimes they're even at home. I pretend they don't exist, but sometimes they get too close… sometimes it feels like they know that I can see them." Eliza took another swig, tears swelling in the corners of her eyes. Micheal reached into his back pocket and produced a white handkerchief, offering it to Eliza.

"Thanks…" Eliza grabbed the handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

"You're a demihuman as well. Is there a way to stop this? To get rid of my sight?"

"There's no getting rid of it. But you can control it."

"How?"

"Do you know about the soul?"

"A little. Just from the things Father Arno preaches about."

"That will do. Is your sight active right now?"

"No. It just stopped."

"Alright. Close your eyes and follow my instructions."

"Really? Alright…" She closed her eyes.

"Now what?" He grabbed her right hand, placing it atop her chest.

"Imagine a bottle inside your chest. That bottle is your soul."

"My soul…" She muttered, and after a few seconds her mouth opened wide in surprise.

"I see it. That's my soul?"

"It is. Now, I want you to imagine moving all of the liquid out of the bottle, then up your throat and into your eyes. Can you do that?"

"I'll try…" The muscles on her face tightened as her breathing grew labored. She winced in pain, her free hand gripping at the side of the table. Then her eyes shot wide open.

"My sight… it's back." She heaved.

"God, it's back…"

"Relax. Relax. I'm going to teach you how to deactivate it. I want you to close your eyes again." She nodded and shut her eyes.

"Now, imagine releasing the spirituality out of your eyes. Spray it out through the gaps, through the skin, through anything. Just take it out." She gritted her teeth, her grip on the table tightening. Then she gasped as her eyes flew open. She looked around the room in disbelief.

"It worked. It really worked." A smile crept up his lips.

"You'll get used to it the more you use it." She grabbed his arm.

"Goddess—No, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"I do know. I know what it feels like to be utterly helpless against the world." He reached into his coat and pulled out a long silver dagger from its sheath.

"I also want you to have this."

"A knife?"

"A silver knife. It would be enough to scare off any ghosts should anything happen. Just one slice is enough to send most of them running." She grabbed the knife in its sheath and tucked it inside her own coat.

"You're doing so much for me. I don't know how to repay you."

"You don't need to repay me. I just can't stand idly by while this is happening to someone. This is hardly anything on my part."

"Thank you… thank you so much…" She gulped, the corners of her eyes turning watery.

"You're welcome to visit anytime… Mother likes your company. It's been so long since anyone else has talked to her."

"I feel like my business with your family is not over yet. I'll be sure to come back."

"Thank you." Eliza lowered her head and said, "And… we could go for another drink sometime. Teach me how to better control my sight." She beamed a beautiful smile. Though her eyes were dark and tired, and her skin was a pallid hue, she was still a beauty through and through.

"I'll take you up on that. Now let's get you back to your mother before she gets worried." Micheal finished his glass of beer. Goddess be damned, what have I gotten myself into?