The Tale Of The Siren (Slow Updates On Weekends) Rough Draft

17.5 - Bittersweet Tragedy

Jacques stood atop the grand entrance as his companions pushed their way through the crowds of men scurrying before the clock struck twelve. Eagerly, he assisted Arieshell and Belle, lending them a hand.

"Thank you," Belle uttered, her voice cracked with each word.

"Of course! Are you feeling okay? You look pale," he expressed.

"Yes...," she paused. "No. I've been feeling more overwhelmed and lonesome."

Jacques nodded as he offered Belle his hand, ushering her into the building- leaving Arieshell and Gus outside.

Poor Belle. Arieshell pondered. She let out a harsh breath and felt a strong squeeze in her chest after recognizing Belle's personality was shattering into pieces.

"Well," Gus coughed. "Shall we?"

Arieshell brought her attention to his palm held out for her to grasp. Her lips curved into a radiant grin. She glanced at his empty hand before she embraced his warm gesture.

"Let's start over," he began. "You're right about being harmless. After seeing Belle becoming more docile, it hurts my soul. It hurts to watch Jacques doing his best to support her and we're over here quarreling in the corner."

Arieshell shook her head, completely mesmerized by Gus's newfound perspective. They glanced at each other for the last time before entering the old, elegant structure.

Once inside, Arieshell quickly assessed her surroundings, searching for any signs of Belle and Jacques. Her heart started to jump, eager to reunite with her trusted friends. Stunned by the unique and extravagant interior, her body spun in circles as her eyes were fixated on the monstrous chandelier suspended from the domed roof.

The interior's arrangement had dim shadings and red and brown hues spread about adding pigmented tints illuminated by all sizes of candles. Underneath, an elongated velvet rug stretched luxuriously across the rich, dark wooden planks.

Arieshell's eyes gazed toward two twin stairs which seemed to mirror each other, dominating the room. Young men with their hats tucked under their arms holding their canes imposed a gentlemanly manner while Arieshell meandered through them, ca her path.

With her hands squashed between her chest, a rough grasp of a mighty force tugged her to the stairs. As the shadow ushered her with a scurried demeanor, her head perked up hearing familiar voices.

"Yes," Jacques spoke. "We're here to learn more about a former student who attended here a few years back."

Casually, Arieshell jerked to confront the mysterious figure to be met with Gus's buoyant smile casing his wrinkles. His striking, light blue eyes shone with a lively glimmer, while his bushy snow-white mustache seemed to twirl playfully, emphasizing his round, rosy cheeks that glowed like ripe apples.

"I apologize. I lost sight of you once we were inside. A few minutes later, I caught sight of you, mesmerized by everything presented to you."

Arieshell chuckled, her eyes meeting his. "I should've been cautious. After all, I was being oblivious, preoccupied by humans again."

For a moment, Arieshell convinced herself she saw a glimmer in his eyes. In her peripheral vision, the silhouettes of Belle and Jacques absorbed her attention. Upon walking in their direction, she noticed an older woman with silver hair neatly pulled into a bun.

The woman glanced up at them, her glasses sat on her nose her eyes glazed with heaviness. "You're here to see Headmaster Burton, correct?"

The woman's sluggish stare pierced her soul as Arieshell approached the old, creaky desk. On the edge of her desk sat a plaque with the name 'Helen B,' skillfully etched into it, causing her to raise an eyebrow skeptically.