Disclaimer: All Yu-gi-oh! characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. Etsuko An does not make any profit from this work of fiction.
Note: I use the English names for the characters because they sound better to me.
The Portrait of an Artist by Etsuko An
(Summer 1991)
"That a girl! Just give me a bit more time," he pleaded.
A few minutes passed while the teenaged Maximillion Pegasus painted behind his canvas. His right hand gracefully directed the brush to put the finishing touches on the three pink bows that accented her dress. After one final stroke of pink he stopped. Finally completed, he stepped back to admire the work of his own hand.
"I think this is my best one yet," he proclaimed.
The subject of his portrait was filled with relief.
"Can I move now?" Cecelia asked barely moving her lips. She had been sitting like a statue as was requested by Maximillion, but after sitting in one position for nearly three hours the soles of her feet felt like they were being pricked by needles.
"Ah, yes my darling!" Maximilion replied while wiping his paint marked hands with a clean towel. "Come here and view if for yourself."
The golden haired woman in a blue gown stood up from the velvet green chair she was sitting on and picked up her dress so she would not stumble by stepping on it. In her dainty black high heels she walked over to where her beloved stood.
She was at a loss for words. Her eyes were fixated on her double. She felt as if she was staring at her reflection in a mirror. Somehow he had managed to encompass all the features of her face. The shape and color of her eyes, her thin, pointed nose, and the smile she wore were all perfectly painted. She couldn't believe how he paid attention to the intricate details of her dress and how each strand of her hair was painted on individually. She would have stared at it all day if she had not heard the agitated shifting of Maximillion's feet beside her. She knew that his patience for hearing her critique was warring thin. Thinking of how to describe his artistry, she could only compliment him with two words.
"It's beautiful."
Pleased with her response, Maximillion grabbed her by the waist while she was still staring at his work and pulled her closer to him so that they were face to face. He store deeply into the same sky blue eyes that enamored him as a young boy.
"The portrait can only capture so much of the original source's beauty," he whispered.
The delicate smile she wore when she heard this filled him with delight and only made him love her even more.
With his right hand, he gently brushed her side swept bangs away from her face and caressed the soft flesh of her cheek. She closed her eyes and he leaned in for a kiss.
.∞.
Eighteen summers passed. Pegasus, now a middle aged man, had given up his passion for illustrating long before his early retirement. After the success of his franchise, Duel Monsters, he led a quiet life with no intention of picking up a paintbrush again. All he did was lounge in the emptiness of his castle, alone, drinking away his loneliness with the finest wines produced in the world.
Solitude was his life now. Without her, he had no one, but never during his life did he even think of replacing her. She would forever be his muse and he her loyal artist. Whenever he tried painting a picture of another woman, the face that appeared in his mind was that of Cecilia's. A face so engrained in his memory, that he could replicate her vivid image on any canvas.
This was his blessing and also his curse.
It was difficult for him to acknowledge that she no longer existed in the same world. It pained him more to recollect the image of the love of his life everywhere, but could not feel the warmth of her embrace, nor hear the lovely sound of her voice. All he had was an image of a once lively young woman.
He was once obsessed with seeing her again that he dabbled in magic and technology in attempt to revive her, but what good did his pursuit of playing god result in? A loss of an eye. A precious instrument he needed to see the only remnant of her physical being—her portrait. It was a giant mural he himself painted which hung above his bed. It was his finest painting that perfectly captured her essence and the one that he cherished the most. It was completed the same year she died and the same year they would have begun a life by each other's side.
He once kept her portrait locked away in a secret tower in a sanctuary that he built, but moved it to his room for convenience.
Tonight marked her death anniversary. This was the one night he allowed himself to indulge in all the memories he had with her. In accordance, he lit seventeen candles in remembrance for each year of her short life. The white tall candles were held by individual holders but were aligned perfectly across his side table near his bed. The flames burned a bright red orange color and were the only sources of light that illuminated his dark room. His love for her burned eternally and caused an aching in his heart. A longing so painful, the only thing that soothed it was wine.
He was calmed as he watched the blood red liquid swirl inside his glass. It flowed counter clockwise as if it were attempting to travel back in time.
"Cecellia..."
The whisper of her name harbored many moments of the little time they spent together. He longed to see her and occasionally he contemplated ending his own life to speed up their reunion, but there was always a tiny voice in his head that told him not to do it.
"Here's to you, my dear."
Pegasus held up his glass of wine as a toast before he took a sip of the bitter red poison. With every glass, his eyelids became heavier and heavier until he could no longer keep them open. Pegasus fell into a deep sleep while sitting on a chair facing her portrait.
..∞..
"Hello," she greeted politely.
A young girl of maybe ten years of age stood before a young silver haired boy who was tongue tied by her presence. She exuded an aura of angelicness and purity. She had a posture of an aristocrat and wore a blue dress with pink frills. Her golden blonde hair was pinned back in a half-do style and was tied with a small pink ribbon. She also had big doe like eyes, the color of a calm blue sky, and a smooth pale complexion that could even make porcelain dolls jealous.
Maximillion Pegasus had been raised and introduced to many beautiful women, but none compared to the girl that stood before him. He tried to speak, but his voice refused to cooperate. The young girl looked at him patiently.
"H-hi. It's a pleasure to meet you." Maximillion said bashfully while he brushed his long hair away from his face.
"The pleasure is all mine. You must be the son of Alexander Pegasus. It's quite the ball that your father has hosted."
"Indeed it is! Anyone that is anyone is present at our party," the young scion boasted.
"Is that so?" She challenged. "Then does that mean all the rest of the people who weren't invited to this party are nobodies?"
Despite her noble heritage, Cecelia was quite fond of meeting new people and friends. She was raised in a different manner than a less fortunate child, but still she regarded people as equals.
"Well, I didn't mean to sound superior or anything…" The young Maximillion wished he could take back his statement for coming across as an arrogant snob. He had accidently deterred potential friends by his behavior before.
She just giggled and covered her smile with her hand. She relished his reaction. "You're quite sensitive. I was just teasing you, Mr. Pegasus."
"Mr. Pegasus?" He repeated. "You mean my father?"
She laughed even more. "No, silly boy, you never told me your first name."
"Oh…it's Maximillion."
"Maximillion? That's sort of long don't you think? How about I call you Max instead?"
He always thought that Maximillion had a more debonair quality to how his name sounded, but Max was so casual.
"That's refreshing. I've always been called Maximillion, even by my parents. Anyways, you never introduced yourself either. What's your name?"
"Cecelia. Cecelia DeChauvet."
"DeChauvet? You mean you're the heiress of the prestigious DeChauvet Wine Production Company?"
"Yup. That's the one."
He knew that she looked familiar. She was present at former parties, but never spoke to each other. He was astonished that he never met her until now, since the Pegasus and DeChauvet family had been business partners for centuries. He quickly overcame his surprise and was now looking forward to meeting her at future soirees, but first he had to make sure that he left a good impression on her.
Waltzes had been playing in the background for the entire evening and Maximillion had his eyes on her all night but was too shy to come up to her and talk. He was quite relieved that she was the one who came up to him and started a conversation. She had more confidence than any little girl of her age, since the other little girls just sat at their tables like wallflowers. Her courage fueled his and this was the first step into getting to know her better.
"Ms. DeChauvet, would you give me the honour of being my dance partner for the evening?"
She hesitated and looked at his outstretched hand. Then she looked at him and noticed that his cheeks were tinted a rosy pink. She could tell that he liked her, but wasn't sure whether or not she liked him. Luckily for him, she decided to give him a shot. Smiling, she took his hand and led him to the dance floor.
…∞…
Pegasus was dreaming of how he met Cecelia, but was uncomfortably burning in his own skin from the intense heat. The heat was hot enough to drench his red suit with sweat. Wearily, he opened his eyes and found himself to be sitting in a room engulfed in fire. The curtains, the bedding, the paintings…the portrait. He could afford to lose everything else, but not her portrait. He scrambled onto his feet amid the burning flames toward the portrait he so cared about—the portrait of Cecelia.
It was burning. Black char was forming around the edges of the canvas and the golden frame which protected it from most of the damage was completely black. He had to save it. He had to save her. Pegasus took a pillow and tried to smash the flames out, but that only made them burn stronger. His determination blocked out the knocks and the voices of his maids and bodyguards.
"Master Pegasus!" They yelled.
He ignored them. Grabbing a vase, he yanked out the roses and splashed the portrait with water. The flames were too strong to be put out. He tried to take the picture down from the wall with his hands, trying to ignore the searing pain. To no avail, he dropped it and screamed out. By then, his bodyguards had bust open the door and ran towards him.
Pegasus looked at his shaking hands. The fire had penetrated through his skin revealing the bright red color of blood exposed to air.
His eyes were wide open. He was in a state of shock. Though he could paint bloody scenes, somehow seeing his own blood sent a chill through him and reminded him of his own mortality. He could feel himself feeling faint and his vision became blurry.
Just then he could feel himself being lifted by two strong arms. "Wait! The portrait…"
"Master Pegasus, there's no time."
Too dizzy to fight back, Pegasus lost consciousness.
….∞….
Two people walked down the narrow white hallways discussing the condition of the hospitalized patient.
"Report on his condition," The tall man dressed in a white long coat commanded.
"He's mostly been sleeping, but the burns on his hands have been healing though they're still black. He talks in his sleep, too, doctor."
"…and what does our patient say?"
"He keeps saying 'Don't leave me' and has been calling out for someone named 'Cecelia.'"
"Cecelia? His wife perhaps? He's always been very private about his personal life."
"A wife? Really? It didn't list he had a wife on his records. I've always had a suspicion that he liked the other side."
The doctor shot the nurse a serious glance as to say that it was not their business in knowing the sexual orientation of other people unless it was for medical reasons.
"Anyways, please make sure you apply new bandages every day and make sure he takes his pain medication. It's a miracle that only his hands were burned."
"Yes, doctor. I'll make sure to take very good care of him."
"Good." With that said the two separated. The nurse headed over to Pegasus' room to check up on him.
"Hello, Mr. Pegasus, how are you doing today?" The nurse asked.
Pegasus was lying in the hospital bed half asleep when he heard the woman's voice. He turned his head slowly and looked at the nurse with his one good eye and the glass eye he had substituted for his stolen Millennium one. She was standing by his bedside with a box of what he presumed to be a new set of bandages.
"I'm doing better now, thank you." This was not entirely true, because he still felt extremely drowsy. He just lied in attempt to be discharged from the hospital faster.
"That's good to hear, sir. Anyways, I'm here to change your bandages again. The burns are healing, but slowly."
She then proceeded to carefully unwrap the old bandages that wound around his hands. The reddish black hue of his scarred skin tissue was so unsightly that it even repulsed the owner of which they belonged.
"Will it ever return to its previous appearance?" Pegasus asked, worried about his own aesthetics.
"It will eventually heal on its own," she reassured, "but if you're really bothered by the scars we can recommend a dermatologist that can try to reduce the scarring."
"Thank you. That would be greatly appreciated."
The nurse smiled at him, though he noted that it was not as kind as Cecelia's. Again he was reminded of her and he sighed at his own reluctance to move on.
"Is something the matter?" The nurse asked concerned if he was depressed about the scarring of his hands.
"No. It's nothing."
The nurse had finished wrapping his hands with new clean wraps.
"There you go! You'll be outta here in no time!" She said cheerfully trying to life her patient's spirits.
"Thank you for your encouragement."
"If you need anything, just press the button near your head board and page me."
He nodded and the nurse left him in his room.
…..∞…..
It was night time. His private hospital room was larger than a regular patient's room, but still he felt claustrophobic. Being in the hospital was draining him of his usual self.
Pegasus couldn't sleep and was sitting upright in his bed staring outside the window. It was a beautiful night. There were no clouds to hide the stars and the window was left open so he could feel the cool breeze from outside. It made him feel a little more comfortable since he was forced to lay in bed and rest.
The doctor said he needed to, disregarding his resistance and reassurances that he was fine.
Well, it was the doctor's word over his own. He had no choice but to obey.
He hated hospitals. The mere fact that it was an institute that housed the living, the dying, and the dead made him sick.
The nurse had given him sleeping pills to help combat his insomnia, but the truth of the matter was he did not want to sleep. Not because he was accustomed to late nights, but lately all his dreams turned to nightmares.
A crystal tear slid down his cheek from his right eye when he recollected the memory.
…∞…
"Do you, Maximillion Pegasus, take Cecelia DeChauvet to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The minister asked.
"I do." The sharply dressed Pegasus replied.
"And do you, Cecelia DeChauvet, take Maximillion Pegasus to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Pegasus looked expectantly at his stunning soon-to-be wife dressed in a gorgeous traditional white wedding dress, but something about the expression on her face told him that something was wrong. She wasn't wearing her usual smile and her brows furrowed upwards like she was worried.
"I…I…"
Before she could finish her sentence she closed her eyes and collapsed forward into his chest.
"Cecelia!" Pegasus caught her in his arms.
She was panting heavily and seemed to be having a hard time breathing in air. She was leaning on Maximillion for support and clutching at her chest.
Pegasus looked at the minister for help. It was all happening so fast and his fear was preventing him from acting to solve the problem.
"H-h-hospital…" She forced herself to speak out with the little strength that she had.
"Minister Thomas, please, call for an ambulance! Hurry!" Pegasus pleaded. The minister ran as fast as he could to the nearest phone within the church.
"Cecelia, it's going to be all right! You're going to be fine!" Pegasus wanted to cradle her in his arms, but knew she already had difficulty breathing.
Just then, the minister came running back to them. "The ambulance will be here anytime now."
"Good. We have no time to lose." Pegasus looked down at Cecelia who was now dripping beads of sweat from her forehead.
Minutes had gone by and Pegasus was impatiently tapping his foot. He had carried Cecelia to the nearest pew at the end of the church by the entrance.
He was just about ready to pull his own hair out from the tension, but was relieved once he heard the sirens of the ambulance.
At last, they were here. A team of paramedics carefully transferred Cecelia onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. Pegasus got in the ambulance with her.
She lay there breathing in heavily struggling to hold on to life.
"Max…" She cooed out his name and lifted her left hand out to him.
"I'm right here, love." Pegasus took her hands within his.
A paramedic saw the matching engagement rings on their hands and asked, "Your wife?"
"Technically," Pegasus answered because the ceremony was not completed and the official government documents were left unsigned.
Once they reached the hospital, Cecelia was immediately rushed to the emergency room to see a doctor. Pegasus was always at her side.
The doctor informed him that they may need to perform surgery and that he wouldn't be permitted to the operating room, but Pegasus insisted that she needed him there by her side.
The doctor did not want to deprive them of what could be there last moment with each other. He sighed and said, "Very well."
He performed tests and x-rays on her in order to diagnose her condition. The results of the tests all had a bleak outcome and he didn't want the patient to hear so he was thankful that Pegasus could bear the bad news in her place. He asked if they could both step out of the room and he would tell him what was wrong.
Much to Pegasus' surprise, the doctor said she had a weak heart and that it was not properly pumping blood to her entire system. Since the heart was weak, that meant all other organs couldn't function properly especially her lungs.
"Will she be all right?" Maximillion Pegasus asked.
The doctor paused and had a grim expression on his face. "Honestly, her condition was discovered too late and it would be too risky to perform surgery right now. It pains me to tell you this, but…she's going to die at any moment. When her heart can't take it anymore, it'll stop."
Pegasus' eyes widened. "What?! You can't be serious! There must be something you can do. If it's money that you want I can pay any price! Just don't let her die!"
His panic was apparent from the escalation of his voice with every word he said.
This can't be happening. Pegasus thought. She was perfectly healthy up until now, so why? He thought that fate was being incredibly cruel to him.
All he was given was a pat on the shoulder. "Enjoy your last moments together."
His body felt cold and lifeless inside. He stood there frozen, not wanting to have to go inside the room and tell her the awful news. In fact, he didn't want to accept it himself, but he mustered up the courage to go inside. He knew that he could do nothing to save her and felt powerless. The best he could do was be with her until..her death.
He swallowed back the tears and shakily made his way to Cecelia's bedside. The way her appearance changed saddened him. The flesh of her skin was as white as the hospital walls and her voluminous hair seemed thinner. Her breathing became much shallower now and her chest rose and fell slowly. Her eyes were shut and her hands were interlocked together above her stomach. She was dying.
Pegasus watched her for a while. Even on the verge of death, she was still beautiful.
"Cecelia," he paused and squeezed her hand. In a gentle voice, he said, "I love you."
She squeezed his hand back. Pegasus could tell that she was weakening by the lack of force in her squeeze, but could see that she was mouthing the words 'I love you, too.'.
Tears welled in his eyes and when he blinked a stream of them fell down his face. He wanted to sob wholeheartedly, but was trying to be brave for Cecelia.
He watched her in that state. Breathing and struggling to live.
He had fallen asleep holding her hand, when he was awoken by a loud high pitched beep.
A nurse was in the room as well and rushed to get a doctor.
Her hand was ice cold and her complexion was now an ashy gray.
"Cecelia..Cecelia…Cecelia…" Pegasus was in a state of shock and denial.
A doctor rushed in the room.
"Move aside." He went over with the defibrillator and tried to shock her back into life, but it was no use. She was dead.
"I'm sorry. I did everything I could and even tried to defibrillate her heart to prolong her life."
Pegasus did not respond. He was holding his head in his hands and the long strands of his silver hair covered his face. The only sounds that he made were cries of anguish.
"Ceceliaa!" He screamed desparately. "Cecelia don't leave me."
The doctor looked at his silver wristwatch and dictated to the nurse, "Time of death 11:30 pm."
….∞….
"I really need to get out of here." Pegasus removed the bed covers and lifted himself from the bed.
Touching objects was discomforting but bearable due to the pain medications. Only his hands were injured, but the rest of his body was fine. He had enough of hospital life which held memories that still haunted him. He needed to get out and clear his head.
He had been thinking about how the fire had started. He could not recall whether or not the candles had been accidently knocked over, but he was sure that he placed his last wine glass far from the candles. Now that he thought about it, he reprimanded himself for being so careless. He should have blown the candles out before he fell asleep, but during that night he felt unusually tired. Wine had that effect on him at times when he drank excessively.
No matter, he would demand that he be discharged or at least be treated in the comfort of his own home. He somewhat missed his hermit like outlook. At least, he didn't have to deal with anyone. He had heard the nurse gossiping over his past and he was disappointed that she had nothing better to do.
A night walk might take his mind off of worrying, because he was already getting wrinkles from the stress.
Luckily, Croquet had dropped off some new clothing for him to wear when he would be discharged. Pegasus thought a change of clothes would be in order since walking around in the light blue open back hospital gown would be scandalous.
He had opened a small crevice from his private room and took a peak outside. The hallways were clear, but there were a few RN's that were working the night shift. Pegasus knew that they would probably tell him to go back to his room and rest.
He saw a nurse in a fuchsia scrub with short brown hair walking towards his room. He shut the door quickly and waited until she had past. Once he could not hear her footsteps he reopened the door. The hallway was clear. Only the fluorescent lights lit the hallway in an eerie glow.
Finally, he was out. He walked around the hospital only stopping every so often to stare at the paintings the hospital put up on the walls. It was mostly still life floral pictures that hung on the wall. Sometimes, pictures of angels with white wings were seen and other times there were landscapes of nature and animals.
He couldn't stare for too long, because he had to be on guard for any nurses or doctors but strangely it felt as if his ward was deserted. Not that he was complaining.
When he was tired of looking at the hospital's art displays he stood by a large glass window that looked out at the night sky. The stars were all shining a bright white light. He heard an old wives tale that said that the souls of those who passed away became stars in the sky. He looked up at them and wondered if Cecelia was watching over him.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?"
Pegasus turned around to see a very small elderly woman with white hair and light grey eyes staring at him. Her eyes were almost clear and had a clairvoyant aura. He stared at him as if she could read his mind.
"It is."
Pegasus was in no mood for idle chit chat and kept his answer short. Something about her presence made him feel uneasy and her eyes could almost see into his soul.
He turned his back to her and started to walk away, but stopped when she whispered in a barely audible voice, "She's watching you."
Pegasus spun around to ask her who 'she' was, but the old woman was nowhere in sight. He also looked around the corner for her, but still the halls were empty.
What a weird old woman, he thought. What did she mean by 'she's watching you'? Not that he was scared; he was more excited than scared. If 'she' was who he was thinking of, he was comforted by the thought that 'she' was keeping watch over him.
"You're always watching me aren't you?" Pegasus said to himself.
"Yes." Pegasus jumped at the unexpected response, but collected himself after he heard laughter.
"Sorry, , but you really should be resting."
It was his nurse, the same one who rebandaged his hands.
"Oh, it's only you."
"Were you expecting someone else?"
He decided to inquire about the woman he saw.
"I saw an old woman wandering the halls as well. Who is she?"
"Hmmm….an old woman…that really doesn't give me much to go on, since there are a lot of elderly patients here."
Pegasus agreed and decided to give her the most essential trait that old woman possessed.
"She had almost clear eyes."
"Clear eyes…clear eyes…"
Pegasus crossed his arms across his chest and impatiently tapped his foot.
"I really don't think there's a patient like that."
Pegasus sighed in disappointment. They did not talk the rest of the way back to his room.
…..∞…..
Black suede shoes tapped against the hard wood floor. Croquet had entered his master's room for inspection. The fire had damaged nearly everything in the room leaving nothing behind. A once ornately decorated room was now furnished with charred items.
He looked around for his master's prized possession, but could not find it under the rubble. Then he spotted a tiny speck of gold and walked over to the bed.
On top lay a massive black canvas which could only be the portrait of the late Cecelia. It was nearly burnt to ashes.
"Master Pegasus is not going to be happy about this at all."
He tried to rub off the ash from the remaining piece, but all the paint was burnt. The image of Cecelia was no longer visible.
He knew how much this portrait meant. For Pegasus, Cecelia was his first and only love. It was puppy love that started in his childhood and evolved into an eternal bond. He expected the worst when Pegasus would return home. His master would be discharged from the hospital today, because he convinced his doctor that he would be able to recover on his own at home.
Just then he received a message on his phone from another bodyguard saying that Pegasus would be arriving shortly. He left the room and would come back to inspect the area later.
Croquet was walking down the winding staircase when the huge front entrance doors were opened.
A long 'ah' was heard followed by a remark from Pegasus saying that it was good to be back home.
Croquet reached the bottom of the stairs and bowed deeply.
"Welcome home, Master Pegasus."
"Ah, Croquet! I've never been so happy to see you! Actually, I've never been so happy to return to this lovely haven of mine."
"I take it hospital life was not to your liking?"
"Absolutely not! It felt like I was being imprisoned and forced to wear drab clothing," Pegasus said trying to make light of his hospitalization.
"I'm sure that must have been dreadful, sir."
"Indeed," Pegasus replied. "By the way, Croquet, have you done what I've told you?"
"Yes, another room in the west wing of the castle has been prepared for you and I was just inspecting your old room right now."
"Have you found the cause of the fire?"
"Not yet, sir."
Pegasus paused. He was not sure whether or not he knocked one of the candles over accidently when he dozed off, but he would check it out for himself later.
Then he spoke in a low serious voice. "Was there anything… salvageable?"
Croquet looked at his master's burnt hands and immediately knew what item he was implying.
Regretfully, he answered in the negative.
Pegasus only nodded and continued to walk past him. Croquet followed closely behind carrying his bag of belongings up the stairs.
Pegasus stopped at the top of the staircase contemplating whether or not to rest in his new room or dash into his former room. He had mixed feelings, because he knew deep down that the one portrait that he kept, his masterpiece, would not exist anymore. One part of him wanted to deny the fact that it was gone, but the other side of him wanted to validate his worst fear. In the end, the pessimistic side won over and he decided to visit the scorched room.
"Croquet, bring my bag into the west wing room." The grey haired butler nodded and the two separated in opposite directions.
The silver haired gentleman proceeded onwards. He reached his destination and discovered that there was a huge gaping hole in the wall that opened up to a dingy blackened room. He had lost consciousness, but recalled that his bodyguards had broken it down to get him.
He took a step inside and immediately his eyes locked on the portrait of Cecelia or what was left of it.
The painting had been flipped over and handprints were visible which could only have belonged to Croquet trying to rub the ashes off. He picked it up, wincing slightly from the pain caused by his burns, and embraced it in anguish. The one good portrait he kept was now gone. He had left only this one portrait. It was the original and had lasted since the day he first painted it when Cecelia was still alive. No copy could replace its sentimental value.
He stood there for what seemed like eternity, but he snapped back into reality when he remembered that he had to find out how the fire had started. He had always lit candles for her, but never did a fire start. He willed himself to let go of an item which (for him) held a piece of Cecelia's soul to search for answers.
The first place he revisited was the side table where he set the candles. It seemed as if they were not knocked over, since each candle holder was still upright and had stubs of melted candle wax attached to it. He thought that it was peculiar that all seventeen candle holders were in the exact same position he had left them in before he fell asleep. He wondered how the fire could have started if none of the candles were knocked over. He didn't believe that a room could spontaneously combust by itself. Perhaps…the wind outside had blown the flames and it had caught on his bed curtains, but that was too far a stretch. Then he thought about it some more and another possibility came up. What if there was someone who came into his room and lit something on fire? Maybe it was an attempted assassination? Pegasus currently had no enemies and business rivals would never dare cross the line. So, perhaps it was an inside job. Paranoia struck him. If he merely asked each of his staff if they started the fire they would surely deny it. Now, he could trust no one.
…...∞….…..
Pegasus did what he thought he would never do again—paint. Since her image was forever in his mind, he thought it would be easy to replicate the original. It was quite the contrary. Either his lack of practice prevented him from transferring the image from his mind onto a canvas or his memory of her was not as strong as he thought it would be. There was always something wrong. The details were inaccurate. He couldn't replicate her hair, her face, or her eyes like how he used to in the past.
Instead of Cecelia, an image of another woman came onto the canvas. One that was similar, yet different. It looked somewhat like an alter ego of Cecelia, since the paintings he produced did not have an innocent aura.
He heard a small knock on the door. He turned to see a young maid dressed in a black and white dress hiding sheepishly behind the door.
"What is it?" He snapped. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"I'm sorry, Master, but dinner is ready."
"I'm not hungry." For all he knew, they could have poisoned the food.
"But sir, you haven't eaten in days."
Pegasus muttered, "Wouldn't you all be happy if I starved to death?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said you're fired," he spat out.
"W-what? B-but?"
"Also, tell the chefs they're fired too."
Pegasus had taken up painting again as means of making him less paranoid (and to challenge himself in recreating another portrait), but he just couldn't handle the possibility that one of his employees could be out to kill him. He knew that he was being rash, but better rash than dead.
The maid stood at the door silently for some time, unsure of whether or not she should take him seriously, but did as she was told and scurried off to tell the bad news to the chefs.
"Where's Master Pegasus?" Croquet asked the breathless young maid who had run into the dining room.
"Mr. Croquet, it's terrible. He's gone mad! I told him it was dinner like you instructed and he snapped and said that the chefs and I were fired."
The chefs and Lily had surrounded Croquet in a circular fashion and all complained at the same time.
Croquet just scratched his gray brows, stressed. It had only been a few days since his master's mood had turned sour. He was the first to be snapped at and interrogated about starting the fire, but thankfully his alibi of not being at the castle at the time of the fire cleared his name. He looked down at the teary eyed maid. She had only started a couple of weeks ago and desperately needed money to support her family.
"I understand, Lilly. I'll go try and talk some sense to him." He walked over to the table and transferred the food onto a tray.
"Thanks so much!" Lilly said joyfully. The chefs were relieved as well.
He nodded and then waved his hand to dismiss them back to their tasks.
The tray he carried was not unbearably heavy. He brought his master's favourites: gorgonzola cheese, roast beef, and a glass full of Merlot wine. He knocked on the door several times, but was only answered with 'go away'. Irritated, he entered without permission.
Croquet's mouth hung agape. The disheveled look did not suit the usually well dressed Duel Monsters creator. Instead of a refined red suit, his master wore a khaki slacks and an off cream collared shirt—stained with paint of course. It looked as if he hadn't even brushed his hair by the unruly state that it was in.
His master was too focused on recreating another portrait that he had not heard him enter his room.
"I know you're there, Croquet." Pegasus said with his back facing his right hand man. "I don't need a millennium eye to know when it's you."
"I see time has accustomed you to my presence." Croquet placed the tray of food down on a table in the middle of his room. "You should eat."
"Taste it for me and see if it's poisoned."
He easily obliged and cut a piece of the cheese and popped it into his mouth. "I'm still standing."
"The poison probably hadn't taken effect yet."
The old salt and pepper haired man sighed at his master's childish behavior. The young boy he had sworn his life to take care of had not changed at all.
"You cannot simply take out your frustrations out on the maids and chefs. They had nothing to do with—"
"My assassination?"
"No one in this castle harbors ill feelings towards you. Up until now, you have treated us very well."
"How can you be so sure? What about that new girl, Lillian?"
"We reviewed the surveillance cameras, but all we had was footage of you sitting in your armchair. No one entered your old room. As for Lilly, she was not scheduled to work that day."
Pegasus stopped painting and spun around to face Croquet.
"Surveillance cameras! Croquet you must show me. I have to see for myself."
Croquet had escorted Pegasus to the security section of the castle where all the activities inside were monitored.
The surveillance room had six t.v monitors. Each one watched different parts of the castle. Nearly everything and everyone was visible. A pack of tapes were stacked on the desk, while a bodyguard sat on a chair watching for anything suspicious.
The turn of the door handle startled the very focused old man who watched the screens.
"Mr. Pegasus, I wasn't expecting you."
"Really? You didn't see us walking here on the cameras? Tsk. Tsk. It seems that you haven't been working very hard or is it that you've worked so hard that you've tired yourself out. Either way, the reason I came to visit you was to inspect the videos myself. Would you please show me the videos of the night of the fire?"
"Of course, sir." The head security guard fumbled through the tapes until he found the one that was needed. "Here it is."
"Thank you."
"Not a problem."
"By the way, were you on duty during that night?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did anything suspicious happen while I was in my room?"
The security guard stuttered a no and looked extremely nervous.
"Is something the matter?" Pegasus asked.
"I think you can see for yourself."
Pegasus raised his eyebrows slightly with heightened interest while the security guard put the tape inside.
"Why? Is there something special on the tape? Did some arsonist sneak in my window and set things a flame?"
No answer was given and instead he sped up the tape and stopped at a certain scene.
"There," The security guard pointed. "Do you see it?" At the corner of the video was a mysterious white blob that looked like a blurred figure of a woman.
Pegasus' eyes widened. "It can't be…Cecelia."
Note: It was intended to be a multichapter story, but it ended up as a short story instead. Anyways, hopefully you liked it.