“Let us drop this subject,” The scholar said as he lowered his cup, “I believe I was telling you about my own story, mine and Amy’s, was I not?”

His voice contained a hint of reprimand. Rapture gave a somewhat apologetic look in return.

Rudolph continued. He thought back to that bitter night and put it all into words.

“After everything happened...I watched in silence as the Ash of the slain men permeated in the air for an unnaturally long amount of time, even a fool could tell something was wrong. I heard it first, saw it next. The creature was absorbing their Ash as it came marching in from thin air. Then everyone else saw it too, they raised their blades in fear of it. That proved their final mistake in this life.” Rudolph smirked.

The Scholar felt no sympathy for those people. Perhaps it might sound cruel, but given he’d been living poorly in those days he couldn’t care less when that thing came by to end them. The scene was brutal and shocking, too much for him to want to recall.

“The creature ended them all, it tore them all apart. Men, women...it didn't kill children though. I held my baby sister tight to my chest. She was cold, she’d not been crying for a while, she was dreadful silent, to this day I suspect that at that time, on that day, for a little while, she actually died. The ghostly figure approached us then. I got a good look at it. Those eyes, black as the void, and that featureless face, it all frightened me, but the more I look back on it the more its gaze looks...innocent, childish, like a newborn. It reached out, Ash filled the hut. My protests were silent and powerless. Then, when next I woke, all was fine. My sister’s crying roused me and I felt stronger than ever before.”

“That was a god?” Rapture said in disbelief. He had seen Rognir with his own naked eye, albeit he only caught a glance, so he had a reference to go on. Indeed Rudolph nodded to those words, he too believed that thing to be a god, but one far different from Rognir, far younger, like a toddler.

“That’s why I study them, that’s why they fascinate me.” The scholar said as he glanced upon his slumbering sister.

Had that god intervened to help them? Did it seek to save the freezing boy? Or was he but a bystander to the dead infant girl? Had the god avenged their cut down neighbours? Or had those people simply trod doom by drawing their weapons on it? Rudolph didn’t know, he wanted to though.

“You can hate the gods all you want, but fact is it’s due to one of them that me, my sister and yes...you as well, are all still alive today.” Rapture felt an ache in his heart. He could not forget, never, the way Rognir killed his mother. Nothing was worth such a price in his mind, even his own life.

Rudolph saw right through that. The Scholar took a swig from his cup. He wanted to ask the boy something, something important.

“Do you still plan on leaving? Do you still intend on going to meet with your mother’s people in Svartalfheim? Is that still what you want to do?” Rudolph inquired.

There was some whimsy in his tone which had not been there before. Perhaps it was that matter, the matter of their lady, who, before her end, was sober and sane. Had that lit a light in his heart somewhere? He did not know, but he seemed less sour as of late.

“Yes,” Rapture replied. He didn’t hesitate, not one bit, in giving that answer. Rudolph could not help but laugh at the boy’s naivety, such was youth.

“Then I’ve a request for you, boy...and I’ll not hear any excuses, am I clear?” Rudolph crossed his arms and smiled. He faced the boy and leaned his elbows on the table. “Take my sister when you go...take her there, to your mother’s people...and never return her to this place.” His words sounded somewhat harsh, but they were spoken kindly and with sincere affection.

He felt there was nothing wrong with this request, nothing wrong with getting his sister away from Venus. He wanted her gone from this place, free of the cage it had become for her.

She was younger than he was, younger than Melany was, in due time she’d be the last one left. He couldn’t bare it, the thought of her still being here then.

He knew the Immortal Clan was not necessarily a better home, but he was willing to take the chance. Rapture could not verbalise his reply, he merely pondered the request in silence.

Could he travel with Amy to the Immortal’s lands? Would he be stronger than her at that time? Strong enough to return the favour of her tutaliage? Would he be able to protect her as she protected him?

Nevermind all of that, would she actually abandon this place that was her home even if he asked her to? He must’ve worn that worry on his face, because Rudolph saw right through it.

“If I can convince her," He said, "Then I’ll not spurn the company.” The boy never doubted he would make that journey once he was strong enough and having Amelia with him would only make, as he said, for better company.

Rudolph cast a smirk the boy’s way. He was evidently satisfied with the answer he’d been given, and so he cast one final glance towards his slumbering sister.

“Your tongue has grown more eloquent in your time here, it seems,” He said, offering the boy a compliment as he finished his glass. Sadly, that didn’t end up being his one of the day.

The man reached for a second drink soon enough and as he did, a certain pitch black trident met his eye. He frowned and muttered under his breath a chilling but silent word.

He saw something in the trident, or, perhaps more likely, he remembered something Beatrix had told him long ago.

“Boy, let me borrow your mother’s weapon for a bit,” He said as he poured himself a second glass. Rapture did not react well to that proposition. He frowned and concealed the weapon.

“What for?” He inquired. Then to his surprise, Rudolph answered with barely a shift in his expression.

“There’s something I want to investigate. Relax, I fully intend to return it, I swear it upon my master’s, your own mother’s, very name.” Rapture’s glare tightened further still.

Swearing on his mother’s name? Anyone else would find themselves receiving the trident in a wholly different sense if they dared to try that, but the man before him was not anyone else, he was one of Beatrix’ students, he would not use her name lightly.

“Fine,” Rapture said as he placed the weapon on the table. He sat back with a slump and crossed his arms with a glare that demanded Rudolph keep his word. The scholar only laughed, then he finished his drink and seized the eerie weapon in his hand.

___________________________________________

Rusalka lay upon her bed, her body unmoving.

Her boots still clung to her feet, but she did not care.

She had left the door open, but she did not care.

Her tears had wet the pillow beneath her face, but she did not care.

She heard a creaking sound at the door. Someone knocked. Someone was there, but she did not care.

“Ru...it’s me...are you there?” Her fiance was there, but she did not care.

“I’m coming in,” He said, but she didn’t care.

The young man walked into the room. He started to speak, words of comfort perhaps, but she didn’t care.

The boy realised she wasn’t listening. He walked to her bedside and looked down towards her. Their eyes met, but she didn’t care.

The boy looked towards her sadly and then knelt down until he was at eye level with her. She followed him with her empty gaze. She stared at him, not a word was said as he crossed his arms and used them as a pillow to rest his chin. He was there, but she did not care.

The young man eventually tired of the silence. He realised that no matter what he said, no matter what he did, she would not answer him back.

He stood up and turned to face the door. Then before walking off he looked over his shoulder at her one more time.

She would not face him, caring about it only exhausted him further.

“I’ll be in the next room, I’m not going anywhere...so when you’re ready to talk, or even if you don’t want to talk, just remember I’m there, ok?” She didn’t care.

He walked towards the door, reached the foot of the bed and then saw that she was still wearing her boots. He sighed at her, sat down on the bed and then removed both boots from her feet before dropping them into the corner of the room one after the other.

Rusalka finally reacted, if only by lifting her head and looking over to the boy’s back, even that only lasted for a moment.

Alexander made a gesture of dusting off his hands as he rose up to his feet at the foot of her bed. He gave her one last look and then reached out toward the covers.

With one snapping motion from his arm he covered Rusalka’s body from shoulder to toe beneath the quilt.

She didn’t care, she waited until the door closed shut and then closed her eyes.

The window was open, a relaxing breeze came into the room and she fell back to sleep before long.