Chapter 32 Helena I

"Maybe you need a little bit of madness?" said the mysterious voice.

Helena stared in awe at the voice she had heard, thinking she had finally gone insane. To her dismay, her eyes also began to play tricks on her, watching as butterflies merged into a mass with a human-like body, yet not human.

For it had horns, but did not resemble a demon. It was the most beautiful being she had ever seen. It appeared as an aristocratic and noble man, with perfectly delicate features that showcased a sculpted beauty. Even the prominent horn protruding from its head only added strength to the image, not spoiling it in any way.

Lost in her absorption, she gazed at the figure absentmindedly for quite some time until the figure interrupted her.

"Hello, miss. If you keep staring, I'll get embarrassed," he said, smiling, which left her confused.

"Hey, what are you?" she finally asked, attempting to understand or perhaps embrace her madness even more.

But he didn't respond; he simply walked towards her, too close for comfort. Nonetheless, she merely observed what he was doing.

"See, this place is boring, too gray, too noisy. I'll show you a more enjoyable place where we can talk," Vincent said to the bewildered girl, as his eyes glowed with a mystical purple, signaling the use of his demonic power.

Helena, on the other hand, felt a slight discomfort in her eyes, forcing her to blink. And when she did, the world before her eyes was completely different. The place was vibrant and irregular, with things floating in the air, and, even more astonishingly, she realized the world was upside down and she was floating. "If this isn't madness, what could it be?" thought Helena.

"Did you like it?" the voice asked, capturing Helena's attention.

The figure was inverted in relation to her, somersaulting freely in the air as if inviting her to do the same. She played with the unknown for a while, until it lost its charm.

Vincent, sensing her disappointment, simply altered the scenery, forming a kind of floating cabin, a place where they could sit and talk.

"All of this is some kind of dream, it's not real. Here, anything is possible," he said, dispelling the mystery of everything that had happened.

"But how?" Helena asked, confused. "How is it possible?"

"Just like others in this world, I have some special abilities. You can call it magic or something like that," he replied calmly and openly to her.

"Magic?" she asked, becoming increasingly perplexed by it all.

Vincent merely laughed and said, "Would you like to see more magic?"

"Yes, magic is real," affirmed Vincent.

After this revelation, Helena fell into contemplative silence, reflecting on the implications of everything that was happening. Hope filled her mind in the face of the crazy possibility that unfolded before her. A tear began to form on her cheek but was interrupted by the figure in front of her.

"We haven't properly introduced ourselves. I'm Vincent," he said courteously.

Surprised, Helena remembered her lack of courtesy and quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, I'm Helena Voyfrir."

"Very well, Helena. Normally, I just go about my way among people without getting involved. But you caught my attention—a beautiful girl crying desperately in that place, without anyone to offer comfort. The people who looked at you only showed disdain or prejudice," he pondered for a moment and then said, "Tell me your story."

Helena, with a furrowed brow, felt tears welling up again. In a way, she needed to pour out her heart, and the presence or idea that had occurred to her made her more open to talking to this stranger, hoping he might be able to help.

With a raspy voice and hands clenched where a ring should be, she began to speak, "Vincent, I'm newly married, and we traveled to London for our honeymoon. Everything was going well, and it was the happiest day of my life... until..." Her words were interrupted as her voice became unbearable amidst sobs.

Vincent approached her and held her hand firmly, offering comfort as she cried. In intervals, he reassured her, saying, "It's okay now."

When she calmed down a bit, she continued to tell her story with difficulty. They, the newlyweds, had a honeymoon experience in London, but all the happiness was abruptly interrupted.

"They came. Men with iron masks. It was terrible," she said with great difficulty. "They pulled out small wooden wands from their robes, and a red light struck John. He screamed, and I was frantic, until I was hit by the same red beam. I thought I was going to die, that it would be the end of everything."

She continued, distraught, "Then they were attacked by some sort of wolves, all of them brutally killed. But John won't wake up, and the doctors don't know what to do with him. Nobody believes me and my story." Vincent smiled in an out-of-place manner, which made her close up.

"You don't believe me either, just like the police. Are you going to call me crazy?" she asked, suspiciously looking at him.

"It's not that. I believe you, even though your story sounds absurd," he replied, pensive. He tried to recall from his memory what had happened; one of his patrol wolves must have saved them from the Death Eaters, but he didn't specifically remember her. After all, it was just another rescue, like many others during the war, nothing special. It was likely that she had dragged her husband away before the arrival of the Aurors, and they had not been Obliviated.

"I know what they are. You and your fiancé were attacked by wizards, as you said, and they are particularly cruel. I'm sorry for what happened to you and your husband," he said sincerely. Her story was intriguing, and now that his curiosity was satisfied, he was about to leave, and they would never see each other again. She would become a young widow because ordinary doctors couldn't heal something coming from the magical world.

"It's okay. Thank you for believing me. It was driving me crazy," she expressed, feeling a great relief simply from him listening to her.

"Very well, but you see, I must go now. I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you, Helena," he said, his voice filled with regret.

As Vincent turned away, Helena, in a desperate move, reached out and caught his sleeve. "Please, help me. If magic is real, can you help John? Can you save him?"