Myrnin got to the room of Amelie's studies without any difficulties.

He opened the door brandishing her symbol he'd created for her so many years ago and found her sitting in complete darkness. The curtains were drawn and the lamps were put out. The only light that was in the room was from fluorescent bulbs that lit the hallway, spilling in from the open door.

Amelie was seated in one of the velvet-upholstered armchairs in front of her book collection shelved on the walls.

"Amelie?"

"Myrnin. Come in." Her voice was soft and quiet. Something in it sounded so familiar. Something that was in Myrnin's voice too often. Something that didn't belong in something that came from Amelie's always-determined mouth.

Defeat.

Myrnin walked in and shut the door behind him, engulfing them in complete darkness, but seeing everything with perfect detail.

Amelie's back was rigid, her posture was perfect. Amelie's small hands clutched the arms of the chair as her eyes stared off into the distance, unseeing.

"Myrnin," she said again, not looking away from whatever she was focusing on. "I can't... I keep having pictures flash across my mind. They persist and will not cease flashing before my vision. They refuse to leave until I remember something... something I cannot remember. But the images aren't mine." Her face remained perfectly smooth, and her voice gave away no emotion. "Or, if they are, images that I have not yet lived."
Myrnin didn't understand what she was saying.

"There are so many vampires who are coming in, asking me questions. I say meaningless words to calm them, and they do not work. I've tried calling Samuel, but he isn't answering. I think he's given up on me, my old friend. Samuel's finally found sense and left me." She wiped a silent tear from her eye quickly, sighed quietly, and returned to her perfect façade. "But here I am going on about my problems, when you hardly come to visit me anyway, so there must be an issue you have that you need to ask me of. But before I begin to wonder what it is, how are you faring with this disease?"

"I... You know, I have not exactly thought about the last time I've had a lapse." His brows furrowed while he was trying to think. "No, I don't know. How is your battle with my old friend, the disease?"

She sighed and closed her eyes, shaking her head very lightly. When her eyes opened, they became fixated in the distance once again. "I can't stop thinking, Myrnin. I think all the time usually, yes, but this thinking is different. I will be reading a book on old crimes to decide the fit punishment of a guilty man, yes? And then his actions or the words of the case will make me think of something else. Then my train of thought will wander until it's gone so far off track that I don't remember what piece I had started with. And then my time has been wasted with me wallowing in my head. You know, I believe I could sit here for centuries on end with just my thoughts for company." She didn't say it with regret, or even any hint of anger or boredom. Amelie said those words in a voice filled with neutrality so that it was even worse to hear. Amelie was a woman of action, and she never just sat around being melancholic. That was his job.

Myrnin leaned on the armchair and placed a hand on Amelie's small one, hers still grasping the arms of the chair. "I know exactly how you feel, my friend."

Amelie finally broke off her icy stare at the opposite walls of the studies and looked up at Myrnin. "But what have you come for, my friend? What wound do you wish me to heal with empty words?"

Myrnin paused, trying to gather himself to tell Amelie. But he couldn't bear it. He bowed his head, letting a single tear fall.

"Myrnin? What is it?" Amelie looked genuinely concerned now and her tone was worried. Not so monotone any longer. He sank to his knees, grabbing the side of the seat Amelie was in for support. He buried his head in her satin sleeve and let the tears break through the dam once more. She was surprised, but merely put a soft and gentle hand on his head and listened to him cry for a moment with a pained expression. Seeing her friend in such distress when she could do nothing was torture to her and she let the empathy fill herself before he pulled himself together enough to speak coherently.

"Ada is gone, Amelie," he said, his voice more pained than it had ever been. "Ada is gone and I need her more than I've ever needed anything else in my whole existence."


Things are getting started... Reviews are welcome.