Daemerungslied: Regenesis Of Dusk

Chapter 25

Mortilda leaves the castle at dusk, not thinking to tell her wife Octavia where she's going. The cold air slaps her face as she descends the steps, the wind carrying with it the distant sounds of laughter and merriment. She takes a deep breath, feeling a mixture of dread and determination well up inside her.

As she walks through the village, the cobblestone streets glisten with the remnants of the day's rain. A few curious glances are thrown her way, but mostly the villagers go about their business, unaware of the turmoil in her heart. She passes by a tavern where a group of men are gathered, drinking and singing bawdy songs. The sound of their laughter grates on her nerves, a painful reminder of how she once used to enjoy such things.

"I've gone proper numb to the world around me lately," she says to herself before ordering a goblet of mead and a pack of licorice root.

"Nah orderin' the usual absinthe?" the bartender asks, a hint of disapproval in her voice. Mortilda shrugs, her long black hair falling over her shoulder as she takes a seat at the bar.

"I've been thinking," she says, taking a sip of her mead. "I've become so used to the numbness, to the nothingness. I want to feel something, anything." The bartender looks at her with pity, but Mortilda doesn't care. She continues, "I'm tired of this existence, of feeling like I'm just floating through life, disconnected from everything around me."

"Well, I guess being alive for an eternity tends to do that to a person," the bartender says, refilling Mortilda's goblet. "But don't you think that seeking out new experiences is the answer? Trying something new, taking risks, making yourself vulnerable?"
"How can I be vunnerable if I bain't capable of dyin'?" she asks, her Welsh accent thickening with emotion. "How can I feel alive when I know that I'll just keep on livin', no matter what I do?"
The bartender sighs and pours herself a drink. "I don't know, sweetie. I really don't. But maybe that's why you should try. Maybe that's what you need."

Mortilda takes another sip of her mead, feeling its warmth spread through her. She looks around the tavern, at the people laughing and arguing and loving, and for a moment, she feels a pang of longing. Longing for something more, something real. But then, just as quickly, the feeling passes, replaced by the familiar weight of apathy.

"It's not that I don't want to feel alive," she says, more to herself than to the bartender. "It's just that I don't know how."

Suddenly her friend Lucille Diamond bursts through the door. "There you are," she says. "I have been searching for you."

"Oh, hello Lucille," Mortilda says, trying to hide her surprise. "I was just having a drink. Do you want one?"

"No, thank you," Lucille replies. "I have come to invite you on an adventure. A quest of sorts."

"A journey wiv you, o queen o' Britain?" Mortilda asks, raising an eyebrow. "Yer honor is m' only quest." Lucille rolls her eyes.

"Very funny," she says, her crimson-red lips curling into a smile. "I need your help with something, something that I believe only you can do. It's a matter of great importance, one that could change the course of history itself."

Mortilda leans in, her curiosity piqued. "And what might this quest be, oh wise one?" she asks, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Lucille takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling dramatically beneath her elaborate corset. "I need you to find a book," she says. "A very special book. It was once in my possession, but it has since been stolen. I suspect that the thief is hiding it somewhere in this village. I need you to find it."

Mortilda arches an eyebrow. "And why me?" she asks, her tone skeptical. "You could just hire someone else to do it."

"Because it's me own... per'nal book," Lucille says in an embarrassed whisper. "It's... quite... intimate. And I don't want just anyone prying into my... private affairs." She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I need someone who can keep a secret, someone who won't judge me. And most importantly, someone who can handle whatever may be hidden within its pages."