Artemisia seemed to be in an audience, sitting in the middle of an empty theater. Decorated with the most beautiful shade of blue, silver and water green all over the place. Some parts were painted dark blue, there were grayish white curtains, with silver ropes tying them. The seats were soft and in a shade so green that could easily mistake it for black. All that theater she beautiful. The young woman wasn't too far from the stage, she would have a perfect view of where she was. She also noticed that the stage itself was different from the other theaters the girl had ever been to. It wasn't a big enough space to fit a cast, even if the curtains were closed it was easy to see. There wasn't much space there, there was no way for a cast to perform on that stage. "There are many things we never know, insolent child, there are stories that hearing them is an extreme privilege. You seek these stories, you are after understanding to know something that does not suit you." The thing
She could feel everything she ate, wanting to come back. The images were directed several times at the two dead women, in active decomposition, looking deep into her eyes. That was enough for her to cry tiredly. Artemisia was already tired of crying, but that was the only way her body could express herself in the face of all that horror. "The truth hurts, apparently." The thing said, laughing at the deplorable state of Artemisia. That just her off more. "What makes you think you can discover the story without consequence? There's no way. It is part of your life to suffer. Poor useless humans." The young woman felt her body being caressed by that thing; it made the disgust intensify. The fact that she couldn't move made it worse. She tried her best not to express that she was still afraid of it, especially when that thing took shape again in front of the girl. Those eyes, that look, she felt like she was going to throw up just by looking at it.
She had a vague memory, wich was a little weak, but it was precious like diamonds or jades. The memory the young woman had was of being in a garden, full of yellow flowers like the sun itself. It was beautiful. There was also a cat, black as night, playing through the flowers as if it were a bee. That was the cutest scene she'd ever seen in her entire life. The smile that was born on her lips was so sincere that the young woman wondered when it had been the last time. A voice, beautiful but not remembering what it was like, spoke to her. The words were lost over time, but the young woman didn't care, the voice that spoke to her reminded her of the girl from a summer day, by a river, watching life run differently from hers. It wasn't an annoying, bright summer, it was a beautiful season she was happy to live in. In memory, there was a man standing next to her, looking at the young woman with a look as warm as the season. It was a demon, she
The autumn breeze slammed against her body, making the skirt of the dress move a little and the icy air touch the young woman's skin, making her return to "reality again." When Artemisia realized what that reality was, she realized that she was holding the book so tightly that her fingerprints were marked on the cover. There was also a bit of sweat on her palms, but it wasn't at all strange compared to what she had seen. Artemisia could swear that she had run through the corridors and down an unknown street; she still felt her legs were just a few steps away from failing. However, nothing seemed to have been real. The young woman was also seriously wondering what was real in that place, in that whole situation. Artemisia didn't have time to recover before she heard a muffled shout coming from the floors below. She left the book on top of the desk and quickly descended to the second floor. There, the maids were huddled around the largest window on the floor. It was almost impossib
When Artemisia opened her eyes, the darkness of the room struck when a horrible headache arose. Her neck burned as if I had been pouring hot tea at her, the night breeze probably coming in through the open window and seemed to cool her neck. She was ready to go back to sleep, but a hand made her get up quickly and a little startled. Artemisia couldn't get up enough before a warm hand gently pushed her head down. "Sleep a little longer." Geon's voice was thicker than usual, as if he had just woken up. "You almost popped your head into the wall, you're going to get a fucking headache." "I had a nightmare." Artemisia said as she snuggled up on the pillow, her every move and thought ached. "I know you had, I saved you." The demon's hand passed gently through her hair. It was such a gentle touch that sleep seemed to be returning to the young woman's body with just that. "I know..." Artemisia looked at Geon, the light of the moon coming in through the window and illuminating a little
"Are you sure you want to go to town?" Helga said as she squeezed Artemisia's corset. One night without using it and her body was already starting to get unaccustomed to that tightness. "Why wouldn't I? You keep asking, but you don't tell me why I shouldn't go." Artemisia raised her hand when it had reached the size she wanted. Helga ran the noose down the young woman's waist before helping her put on her shirt and skirt. She looked through the mirror at the bandage Geon had made on her hours earlier. Accompanying the memory of waking up in pain also came the memory of their kiss, that was enough for the girl's cheeks to turn red, as if she had gone through rouge. Artemisia was supposed to stay home, but something called for her to go to Leonore's house. Sometimes she thought the woman had done some spell to make the young woman have that need to go to the Nyx estate, but Artemisia knew Leonore well enough to know that the woman was uncomfortable using magic against her. In fact
Leonore helped Artemisia enter the mansion. Her head was spinning like the wheel of a car, she could still smell the pungent and metallic smell, the taste was still inside the young woman's mouth. There was a memory of something happening, but at the same time the only thing the young woman remembered was Sebastian asking her to get out of the car. After that there was nothing else. She sat on the couch, the same one where she agonized over the effects of belladonna, crying at the toxin from that damn drink and writhing her body like it was on fire. Artemisia remembered it so clearly, it was as if it had happened the day before, at most a few days before. She was already starting to lose track of time; things were starting to get weirder. Again. The young woman was trying to understand why she had gone to Leonore's house. It could be because of the deaths that had been going on since the day before, but that story Artemisia only heard it when it was getting ready, that very morn
"You remember when I told that story about what magic was like in Gaul, right?" "It was a bit of an incomplete story, but I can remember." Leonore got up and headed towards a shelf. Artemisia re-observed some parts of that place. It was small, dimly lit, full of shelves and bizarre things that witches probably used in rituals or even studies, but there was something in that room that caused a certain déjà vu. Maybe it was the color, the walls seemed to be a very ordinary orange hue in the fall, there were several things in that place that might remind the young woman of something, but it had something too specific to ignore. She saw the aged details of the shelves, some jars with flowers and herbs, Artemisia also searched within her own mind for what could be rescued from her memory with those elements. But, as expected, nothing came. It did not surprise the young woman, that feeling of having lived it before or of having been in that place came from nowhere and was adrift of
Artemisia leaned her body against the chair entirely, the truth hurting more than she could have imagined. She could tell that the stages of grief hit her too fast, so the young woman was already in anger. An outsized hatred of herself. Artemisia knew it was deadly, she saw her father die, the nannies die, the plants, the animals. It was clear as the day that it was her curse, but knowing it was so painful that it made the young woman want to vomit up all the sweets she had eaten. Suddenly something hit her too, a memory that involved stories. It was almost like a blur, but if Artemisia tried hard, she could understand that it had been a dream, a strange and a little disjointed dream. In it were three books, each of which bore a strange memory of the young woman. The first was a debt, of this she remembered better than the others, the second was pure pain, the same pain she had felt when Leonore opened that book of leather red as blood. The young woman raised her face looking towa
To the young woman's surprise, that point of darkness at the botanical fair was not a stall, in fact it was the façade of a flower shop. It didn't look like a flower shop, the dark colors and faded designs gave the impression that this shop was abandoned or that it was an old tallow, which was shattering over time. Artemisia stood for a good few minutes admiring that black blur in the midst of so much light and color. The storefront somehow reminded the young woman of herself, perhaps for the colors and the more old-fashioned style. "Maybe because you don't belong there." Again, those voices spoke deep in the young woman's mind, teasing her to make something happen. Something she had no idea what it might be, but given the illusions, or events, that had intensified morbidly over the past two days. Either way, she decided to ignore that voice, just as she had been doing since the second time she heard it — or at least trying to ignore it. "Don't be offended by witches," a female
The rest of the day Artemisia remained only immersed in her own thoughts, especially after discovering that one of the culprits of her current state is dead. The young woman really wanted to feel guilty for killing someone. Well, she felt guilty, but for that particular someone, Artemisia couldn't feel any twinges of kindness or empathy. An old subject? Yes, but the pain did not age, it renewed itself again and again, remaining fresh. It was only because the young woman couldn't feel guilty for killing the woman, she was still trying to figure out how the hell she had done that, since it was supposed to be for Hyacinth to be immortal, from earth to earth, being in a vicious circle of life.As she pulled the covers so she could warm herself from the cold that was beginning to stick to Artemisia's bones, she could feel that there was so much more to it. How would she kill such an old being, when even Death herself couldn't do that? Artemisia didn't know much of that world she had been
"I was hoping this time it would work." Geon said as the shadows danced around the fireplace. Artemisia looked at the demon with a raised eyebrow, it was not impressive to the young woman that it had happened more times than she would have liked—that at the moment, within the will of the young woman, the amount of times her soul could possess people and kill the owners of the bodies was faithfully clinging to zero—but it was still a little curious to think that perhaps that possession had been the one that had worked out the best. Even if it was a slightly vague definition of what "getting it right" is. If Helleborus hoped to have one more chance at life, run through green fields in the spring, and remain reclusive in the arms of a loving family during the winter, Artemisia felt a little sad to give her the bad answer about the woman's choices. "What happened to the other times?" Artemisia asked as she shrunk her legs until she could hug them. The cold was beginning to affect the
She stood staring at the countertop, for several minutes her mind had begun to get unbearably high. Part of the young woman was trying to believe that Geon had never really said whether or not he knew about what happened to Artemisia, even before she was "born," it had said only a small omission, nothing that was important enough that it could hurt or give that nagging feeling of being deceived. On the other hand, the other voice that screamed in Artemisia's mind said how much she would have been spared from all that misfortune, would not have freed her from more than twenty years of such agony, but would have saved her long enough for the young woman to understand everything that had happened and had happened. She could taste the bitter taste of betrayal, that pungent thing that stuck to her taste buds and stayed there until the young woman went mad with so much bitterness. She wanted to believe that it would give the final card of her insanity, finally letting what was supposed to
“Oh, you are here.” The demon spoke when he finally saw the young man in the middle of the living room. "I went to let Leonore know we're here, I wouldn't want to have an angry witch running after me." He turned away from the window, heading towards the couch.There were a few suitcases occupying the piece of furniture, Artemisia was quick to recognize them as they were the same ones she had used when moving into the mansion, theoretically several weeks earlier, in what would have been the beginning of spring.The young woman wanted to laugh about it, minutes after listening to the creature's whole lecture about the weather, she would be seeing the suitcases she had used to store some things before leaving her mother's house, it would be winter again, as it had been a season before.“I'll prepare lunch for you, apparently your body can't go too long without food. Try to find something warm to wear, Leonore's clan is looking for what could have caused this regretful winter.” Geon said
Maybe having followed that entity was a bad idea, but giving up in the middle of that situation seemed a bit extreme to do. Artemisia looked at the white immensity as she walked with that being, each step made her regret her decision even more, it was a bad choice.And then there was the fact that she was the one who wanted to find out more about the family curse, abandoning that would be an extremely shameful sign of cowardice. The only one to blame for being in that situation was Artemisia, the creature being there or not was just a curious part of the consequence.“You've heard his whole story, haven't you?” a creature asked as they stopped in front of a flower bed full of tulips."Yes." The young woman smiled, looking closely at the small flowers that grew amidst the blanket of snow. She had heard of these things before, flowers that bloomed during the winter, growing through the snow and into the dim sunlight. Artemisia didn't know how to explain it very well, but that vision ma
The moment Artemisia left that eye-filled place, the cold of the sudden winter hit her like an arrow. The whole green field that the young woman had seen through the window was now a white immensity. The story Tinea told her the day before sounded again, all over again, it was already starting to irritate Artemisia. She just wanted to live miserably well, she didn't want to have to go through it all and know that when she finally got rid of that life, the young woman's soul would still beg for death for the last life. She could be absolutely sure that everything would be repeated again, from the days in the snow to begging an immortal woman for the gift of being reborn. The young woman looked for somewhere to sit, some corner that wasn't fully covered in snow, which was a somewhat impossible request. The white robe doubled in size with each passing minute, Artemisia could feel the skirt start to get hard and icy, no longer able to have the same movements as a normal skirt. But she w
If someone told Artemisia that one day she would wake up in the middle of winter, she would believe it. Which might be surprising, but even then, the young woman would trust the words of the person she told her that. It didn't need to explain in more detail, to say how one day the sun burned and the next day it was cold as a curse, the young woman would believe it. It was funnier that way. What's more, so many things had happened to the young woman that this would be just another normal day. Artemisia was willing to ask Geon again if he was hiding anything from her, it was clear as a crystal, at the moment the night before she had asked the demon, his expression could not be the best. Something inside the young woman said he was lying. She could call it something over-suspicious, perhaps. Artemisia went to sleep with Tinea's voice explaining to her about the flower that insisted on keeping in her life, but carrying an extensive secret like an apron, the young woman also woke up he