Death catches up with us all eventually, running only delays the inevitable. And you, dear readers, what do you make of the expression "having death on your conscience" ? Do you wish to experience it or not ? If so, let us continue.
C&L Research Center
The following day, Céline was due to visit the new excavation site being led by her team of researchers. She was the co-founder of the largest artifact and rune research center in existence, known as C&L. Her work brought to light objects and works dating back to the earliest eras of the supernatural order, as well as manuscripts tracing the lives of the first clan leaders.
Céline was known not only for her status as EISKIR, wife of the clan chief, but also for her extraordinary intellect. Her work was praised across all clans and served to advance research in numerous fields. Though her marriage had been the source of many scandals, Céline had never once considered abandoning her passion, and had enjoyed her husband's full support since the day they met.
Dressed in her natural charisma, she made her entrance into the building. A structure that resembled a museum in its imposing and elegant architecture, composed of a series of towers and domes built around an immense framework of glass and metal. Employees bowed swiftly as she passed, while her secretary followed close behind with hurried steps.
"Good morning, Mrs. ANGOMA . It's a pleasure to have you back with us!"
She draped her jacket over the back of her chair and rolled up her sleeves, her gaze drifting to the framed pieces of her work hanging on the walls.
"Please accept my deepest condolences again for your sister-in-law. She was truly beloved by everyone here," her secretary said in a compassionate tone.
Céline held her gaze for a moment, long enough to make the young woman visibly nervous, before responding with a nonchalant nod.
"What time are we due at the site ? Our contact on the ground said it was worth the trip."
She took the document Rosa handed her, running a hand through her curly hair.
"In two hours."
"Good."
As they discussed important details concerning the various sites that had been put on hold since her absence, a knock came at the door.
"Come in."
The receptionist entered, apologizing for the interruption. He handed Céline a letter before leaving in haste. She examined it carefully before catching a scent rising from the envelope.
"That letter must contain renegade blood to smell this strongly," Rosa declared, pinching her nose.
Rosa had the ability to identify the origin of a person or object simply by inhaling their scent. Céline was on guard and deeply unsettled by the direction this day was taking. She turned the letter over, and a symbol appeared. Her gaze darkened as she recognized the emblem of the Black Lodge. She opened the letter with reluctance, reading its contents with growing horror.
"Remember me. That autumn night when death made your eyes beautiful with suffering and fear. Come find me where it all began."
She rose abruptly from her seat, gathering her things in a rush before striding out of her office, leaving Rosa's worried cries echoing behind her.
"Damn it. Not now."
***
"Why now ?"
Céline could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her chest. A wave of dread swept through every cell of her body as an overwhelming apprehension took hold of her. She breathed deeply several times before gathering her courage and pressing forward.
The wind that blew was glacial, and the atmosphere around her grew oppressive. A light mist rose through the woods framing the small studio perched at the top of the hill. She walked on, anxiety coiled at the pit of her stomach, as faint echoes reached her ears. Never before had she felt so deeply, profoundly ill at ease.
After a few minutes, she reached the summit and stared with hollow eyes at what remained of Leonora's art studio. Tears began to sting her eyes as she sank to her knees on the ground. She gazed in horror at the ruins before her, and a wave of memories came flooding back.
"Leonora… I'm so sorry. If I hadn't hesitated in that moment, you would still be alive. If only I hadn't doubted," she whispered.
She struck the ground with her fist and let out a cry of frustration.
"Regrets ? How interesting."
Céline shot to her feet and spun around to face the voice. He was dressed in black and stood a full head taller than her. His grey hair was tied back in a ponytail, and a deep scar ran along his cheek, giving him a menacing air. His amber eyes studied her with unsettling intensity. Céline was certain she had seen those eyes before, but where ?
"Strange. I thought women had excellent memories. You disappoint me, Céline ANGOMA. Spending so much time attached to your husband seems to have cost you your recollection. I wonder what he would do with you if he knew you were there that night, at the scene of his sister's murder."
He stepped toward her with a sly smile.
"And that you watched her die with your very own"
He never finished the sentence. A blade of water pierced through his chest. Céline, her irises having shifted to a deep Klein blue, fixed him with cold fury.
"Shut up. No one gave you permission to speak, as far as I'm aware."
Despite the blade embedded in him, he closed the distance so fast that he seized her jaw.
"Your scent is just as intoxicating as it was that night and your weakness is just as striking. I would so love to see the fear you felt back then. Show it to me, Céline," he murmured with quiet amusement.
She wrenched herself free from his grip, keeping her blade leveled at him. But the wound she had inflicted on him sealed itself shut before her eyes.
"You were trembling like prey about to be devoured. It was quite satisfying to watch, that rage in your eyes," he said, raising a golden scythe.
"A shadow reaper," she thought.
And then everything came back to her at once.
"It was you that day. The reaper who harvested Leonora's soul. Thoras, if I remember correctly."
She lowered her blade and made it disappear for the moment.
"Your memory returns at last. About time."
"What do you want from me ?"
His presence was no coincidence. Céline knew that better than anyone. If he was here, it meant someone was about to die. In her case, that meant she would almost certainly witness it. A reality she had come to know all too well.
"Nothing for now. But rest assured, we will meet again soon enough. However…"
She barely had time to blink before a violent pain seized her arm. Blood poured from the gash he had carved into her, and a burning sensation began to spread through her body. She dropped to one knee as he approached.
"This cut will remind you that our next meeting is coming," he said, smiling.
His amber eyes reflected nothing but death and the deep satisfaction of instilling fear and terror. Yet Céline refused to let herself be moved by the intimidation.
"You'll remember it too, until that day comes," she said with a knowing look.
Without his noticing, the tip of the blade she had concealed had buried itself in his leg, administering a slow-acting poison.
Reapers had their weaknesses when they took on a physical form and Céline knew them all too well. He stumbled backward, laughing loudly.
"If that's what you want, then so be it. It's time for me to go, my dear. Until we meet again."
He vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared, without warning, and carrying the weight of ill omens.
Céline quickly moved to stop the bleeding from her arm, tearing off her sleeve and binding it tightly above the wound. She then formed a thin layer of water around the cut to prevent infection.
"You are really in trouble, girl," she murmured to herself, gripping her arm.
She rose and walked into the ruins of the studio. She and Leonora had spent so much time here together, talking about everything and nothing. They had been like sisters.
She stopped abruptly at the center of the room, precisely at the spot where she had stood, powerless, watching Leonora's body be consumed by the flames.