19 Vanished Without Trace

The first time Vernon came to her, Alyssane asked him to get lost.

Madame Juan would not usually send any patron or client Alyssane's way to avoid trouble. She would not allow anyone from outside to meet with Alyssane either. But the new duke of Moonshire, Vernon Beaumont was not someone Madame Juan could turn away.

The second time they met, neither of them spoke.

On their third meeting, Alyssane debated stabbing Vernon. Her life was already complicated enough; she had no desire to be forced into entertaining men. But he shared an odd request. 

"Could you write a letter for me?"

"Does your own hands not work?" She asked.

"Not well enough to write," he smiled for some reason.

Reluctantly, she agreed. 

Madame Juan had made it clear he must be pleased. He asked for a letter, but then had her write two more. They were all for his estranged wife, and he said Alyssane shared similarities with her.

"My hands don't properly work because of an injury," he said.

She never talked to him, only using a few words when it was necessary, but slowly and perhaps far too easily, Vernon was becoming bearable. There was a silent understanding between the two even though they hardly shared any words.

The last time they met, Vernon said he owed her, and that should feel free to reach out to him lest she ever needed his help. She could not say anything to that, her heart was broken from every betrayal of her past―too afraid to hold onto new hopes.

One month later, a drunken man from the brothel cornered Alyssane in the gardens. He showed her how many knives he had, held her against the ground, and carved her skin with a wide smile on his face.

She cried for help.

They heard her, but no one dared to come closer. 

He was a dangerous mercenary. Stepping in would mean ruining one's life, and there was no protection from the palace for the people of Lower Valeria.

It was her final straw.

For months to come, the slightest of movements left Alyssane in overwhelming pain. But broken and desperate, Alyssane forced herself to write to the only person who had promised to help. She clung to the hope that he would help, and listen to her. Even if he could do nothing, at least he would come to her.

But he never responded.

Madame Juan took his silence as a sign that he had abandoned Alyssane, and she punished her for it by ensuring the fireplace of her chambers remained empty all winter.

"Why couldn't you make him stay?"

"Why do you have to be so useless all the time?"

.

.

It was a weary morning.

Alyssane was starved of sleep, Taryn's words echoed in her mind all day and the abrupt absence of the knights throughout the day kept her awake at night.

'Is it because of the curse?' She wondered.

Then she heard a few knights talk in the morning, it was hard to hear them clearly but they seemed very stressed talking about a mansion. When they saw her looking at them, they gave her sour looks and walked away.

Now, Alyssane was sitting once again in front of the window, her distant gaze upon small bird children crying for their mother, her thoughts were a mess.

The memories of her past intertwined with her confusing present. She wondered why Vernon never responded, why give her false hope?

She wondered what would happen if she sought him out now.

Moonshine was vast but mostly empty. It won't be hard to find a noble mansion in a city plagued with poverty and crimes. But would he care for her troubles?

Would he believe her innocence?

With mixed feelings drowning her heart, Alyssane fell asleep to the sound of unending bird chirpings and she drifted off to a troubled dream.

Alyssane dreamed of magic.

It had vanished from the earthly lands centuries ago. But there were always peculiarities surfacing… things no reasoning could explain. Similar to the visions that corrupted her mind.

She thought of Vernon, 'If I try… will I find you?'

There was a sudden dull pain inside her head, growing at a frightening pace as if to claw itself out of her skin. It kept increasing the more Alyssane tried to think of him, and when it was excruciatingly intense, everything became dark and silent.

She was standing near large iron gates, her eyes unmoving from the knights that surrounded a large mansion. None of them wore any insignia, and they all appeared confused.

Alyssane ignored them and took small hesitant steps towards the mansion.

Even though it was night, there were no lights inside the building. All the doors and the windows were open, the whispers were growing louder. 

"He dismissed us all, not even a single servant was allowed to take care of him!"

"Master Vernon… he had always been kind. But he suddenly stopped talking to everyone."

"I heard he was falling sick."

"But he was seeing so many doctors―"

"And he vanished without a trace…"

The whispers faded when Alyssane entered the mansion. She paused at the threshold, not daring to enter the unknown darkness. But it was so tempting… compelling her to give in and drown in the deeper depths of her dream.

'Don't you want to know what's inside?'

A cold breath caressed her neck.

Startled, Alyssane looked back but there was no one. Her heart suddenly started to race wilder and faster. Her own voice was suddenly desperate in her mind, 'You must run!'

But she could not move.

She could not wake up.