4 Tranquillity

A slim figure in a white gown sat peacefully on the wide green plains, her hands lazily supporting her as she tilted her head up to stare at the sky. She smiled to herself. The breath of chilling wind soothed her mind. She remembered a time, long ago…

A lively young girl was racing around in a garden flourishing with sunflowers and willow trees. She skipped up to a man in a freshly ironed grey uniform and tugged at his sleeve, urging him to play with her.

"Hide and seek! You're it, you're it!"

The man shook his head helplessly.

"I'm only a guard…" But he still did as she wished. He was the only person who would listen to her, the only person that could bring her joy.

The girl's eyes gently fluttered open, the sweet scenery of her childhood still in the wake of her memory as the golden may green grass came into sight.

As she lifted her head, she spotted a figure in the distance. She smiled, standing up.

"Mary, what are you doing here?" Belle said as she walked closer to the figure.

"Ugh, you dirty rat. Don't come near me!"

Belle smiled gently, like there was no previous enmity between them.

"What are you smiling for? That's disgusting!"

Belle had a mock horror expression on her face. "You thought that way of me?"

"What? Don't come near me!" Mary shrieked.

Belle walked closer and took Mary's hands into hers, swinging them lightly. "It's all thanks to you, Mary." The girl spoke with a brilliant smile on her face.

She leaned in and whispered into Mary's ears. "It's thanks to everything you've said to me. Do remember, I'll repay all my debts in blood."

Mary stiffened, her hands trembling.

Belle smiled at this. "Relax, what do you take me for? I'm just joking." She walked off, leaving Mary in a daze.

…

Belle tread into a dark forest, the tall trees covering the only source of light. The tree leaves whispered and shook at her, emanating an air of hostility. As she walked deeper, the trees became closer and denser. They surrounded her, as if trying to devour her. The girl walked further, reaching a large oak tree separated from the rest. She arrived before a small, upright stone placed comfortably near the tree's roots. The girl stood silently in her flowy white gown, the wind flapping her dress and blowing against her face. She stayed like that for a while, still as the dead, motionless.

She slowly crouched down, her actions stiff and rigid - her eyes had never left small stone. She reached out a hand to touch it, and the tree shivered like it was warding her off. Her hand stopped midway. Did her death bring me happiness?

She sat down on the grass beside the small stone, lightly tapping her fingers on the ground. She thought back to a memory she would never forget - a catastrophic, awful event that swept her family and all the servants in her house to their deaths.

…

Under a large, shady tree, a man crouched down, holding the shoulders of a young girl. "Young miss," he said gently. "This time your father has been away for a very long time."

She looked at him with a curious expression. "Yes, Papa has always had long trips."

"This…" The man paused, hesitating whether to continue. "Do you know what he went to do?"

The girl cocked her head, puzzled.

"It's important," he pleaded.

She looked at him for a moment before smiling and nodding. "Alright," she agreed. She waved her hands, "Come closer."

The man did as he was told.

The girl leaned in and whispered into his ear.

The man kept a serious expression, nodding his head.

"You have to keep it a secret, alright?"

"Alright."

…

It was night - the trees rustled gently; everything was calm. A girl laid peacefully on a large bed. Suddenly, a loud noise jerked her awake. She quickly sat up, straining her ears to observe her surroundings. Nothing came. Scared, she called for her guard.

"Mark! Mark!" She cried desperately for him, but he didn't appear. Hurriedly flinging off her blanket, she ran outside. To her horror, she saw her family's guards fighting with a group of fully-covered men in black. A few dozens of decapitated heads rolled on the ground. A few servants were begging for mercy and knocking their heads on the ground. She had the urge to scream, but quickly muffled her mouth with her two hands. Nervously, she stumbled back the way she came. Then she turned around and sprinted. She reached her bedroom and started ransacking through her drawers, desperately searching as she heard the sounds of swords clashing grow louder. Her hands shook when she finally found what she had wanted: a key encrusted with diamonds and pearls. She hurriedly moved to a wall where there was a crevice and inserted the key. The wall shook, revealing a dark passageway. She dashed through, the echoes of the servants' screams resounding in her ears. As she raced through the dark passageway, the last thing she remembered thinking was, he wasn't there.

…

The night was veiled with a gloomy sheen. The moonlight framed the figure of a girl in white. Her long, silky hair flowed along with the breeze, her face pale under the arctic wind. She stood still, unaware that her fingers had turned purple from the cold. The girl stretched out her hand and grasped the door handle, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Her heart pounded against her chest as she walked step by step towards a room flickering with candlelight.

"Is that you, Belle?" asked a man with his back facing the girl. She walked closer to the man, into the shadows that lined the walls. "Don't scare me, Belle." The man laughed. Just as he turned his head, his expression changed to that of horror. He stared down at his abdomen, shocked at the pool of blood that leaked out from his wound and soaked his clothes. He looked up and stared incredulously at the girl. She watched him indifferently as her hands held onto the knife that pierced into his body. Blood dripped onto her fingers and dyed them scarlet.

"Why did you do it?" she whispered quietly.

"Why, you ask?" The man blanked out, then tilted his head back and roared with laughter. "For money, of course."

The girl furrowed her brows, gripping harder onto the knife and twisting it into the man's flesh. The man grimaced in pain.

"You're crazy, Mark Somelier," the girl muttered.

The man looked at her with a silly grin.

"And you're merciless, Isabella Imperatrice Paix."

"So you knew."

"I knew long ago." The man let out a weak chuckle.

The knife dropped to the ground, the night was still and silent.

Now all her debts were paid.