Myrnin remembered when he'd spend hours a day in a closet crying. When all he knew was pain and suffering.
He'd lie in the dark, wishing for the quiet to envelope him. He'd suffocate in the black and go deaf by the loudness of the silence. Myrnin never thought he'd know peace or find an inner sanctum. Much less experience true love.
He remembered the times when seconds would fly by, ringing in his ears. The unseen shapes shifted before his closed eyes; pink-tinged sweat dripped down the sides of his face; his breathing stopped; dust mites flew in the air, landing on his face and tickling his feelings—awakening the sense he thought long dead: touch.
The feeling of more specks of dust falling on his face, pricking his skin like needles. He recoiled into a ball, away from the pain-causing things. But these they flew at him mercilessly, making him unsure of their true form. Were they tiny animals? Ferocious creatures? Were they waiting for Myrnin to awaken from his sleep-like state to pounce on him—bringing more death down to his laboratory?
He waved them away with a tired arm, but had to stop the movement. Myrnin felt as if he had just dunked his arm into a tub of acid. Was it still there? Was his arm attached? Did the beast know of his weakness?
Maybe Myrnin could sneak out. Perhaps the creature wouldn't notice if he just slipped out of the closet and back into the light of his lab. He may be able to shut it in the closet forever.
He braced himself against the pain and slowly stood, trying not to make a sound against the needles waging war against the inside of hi body. But soon the pain was all he could feel and he found no more will power in himself to keep standing. He pounded on the door feebly in one last, vain attempt to escape the clutches of the monster. He grasped at the door handle and desperately tried to open it, but found himself falling backwards into the silence of the confinement. He no longer had control of his own body.
Collapsing hurt less than standing. The pricking needles flew away. The animal's thirst was quenched. Was it satisfied at the hurt it had brought him? Were they happy he fell?
He felt the darkness pulling him back into its hold with a grateful smile as one last thought crossed Myrnin's mind.
Who will save me?
.
Hours, days, maybe even weeks, later, an angelic voice was calling his name, forcing its way inside his solitude and into his mind.
"Myrnin," it said sweetly. "Are you here?" It was like a beacon of light in his foggy thoughts, guiding him gingerly to shore.
Did I die, he wondered.
"You're not dead," the voice said gently, right outside the closet.
Did I say that aloud?
"Yes," it said lightly. A tinkle of a laugh followed. "I can hear you." The door opened softly and bright light flooded the black, blinding him momentarily. His hands instantly shielded his face, making him aware that he still possessed his arms.
Had he imagined the attack?
A hand belonging to another was extended, Myrnin noticed as his eyes adjusted and he lowered his protection. He took it carefully and the softness of the palm told him it was a female's.
Myrnin's gaze went up and tender, hazel eyes looked back at him crouching in the closet like a lost child.
Hello, Ada.
"Hello," she said. "I assume we'll be continuing our work from yesterday?"
That was just yesterday? It was only then that he realized he was forming the words without having to think about it. He cleared his throat and repeated, "That was just yesterday?" after making a conscious thought to speak.
"Of course," she said, beginning to look puzzled. "Why do you ask?"
Myrnin's brows furrowed. "There was a... a thing. A thing trying to attack me. I thought—I didn't realize that I was going to come back."
What was he saying? Why was he telling Ada this?
A side of her mouth pulled itself into a frown. It was odd seeing such genuine care in a face other than Amelie's.
"You were probably having another spell," she said. "I wish there was some remedy that could be made to stop such things from happening. It hurts you so."
Myrnin was silent as he stared at their linked hands.
"What's wrong, dear?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
"You're beautiful."
Another tinkle of laughter rang through Myrnin's ears.
"Madness suits you well," she said, the smile remaining bright on her face.
She squeezed his hand and pulled him up into the light, away from the closet and the monster held within. She brought him into her glowing aura, saving him from the insanity once again.
And then Myrnin knew true love, something indescribable, beautiful, and incredibly uplifting. It was too hard to imagine that he had actually found Ada.
Ada, his love.
His life.
His savior.