Chapter 12: Broken Promises

Knock. Knock.

Blumiere grimaced at the irritating noise, gripping his metal-tipped pen in a tight fist. He hated interruptions. It made him lose his bearings and only wasted time, something he couldn't afford to lose. He had assumed that locking himself in the attic of the castle would send a message to the others, but the interruptions still hadn't ceased. Reluctantly, he waved his hand and noted the click as the door unlocked and opened. Under normal circumstances he would have left it locked, but he knew the endless banter would simply continue, if for nothing else than their reassurance that he was still alive.

Still, he felt a need to express his annoyance. "It was locked for a reason."

His complaint was followed by a brief silence. Then… "I-I'm sorry, Master Blumiere. Did you want some tea?"

Mimi…

Blumiere let out a forced sigh, trying to calm himself. He had no quarrel with her, after all. "It's alright, Mimi. But you know I don't want to be bothered."

Mimi remained quiet again. For a moment, it seemed that she had disappeared, but Blumiere didn't turn around to check. Instead, he returned to his maps, trying to relocate his thoughts again. "We just worry about you."

Blumiere closed his eyes, trying to hide his rising impatience. "I'm alright."

"Have you talked to Master Beau—"

"I'll handle my own affairs, Mimi. Thank you."

Another pause, and then… "I'm sorry, Master Blumiere. Good-goodnight." And she was gone.

Blumiere grabbed the pen and focused on the map once again. He detested the constant distractions. If it weren't for the supply of maps in his father's castle, he would have found a more peaceful locale to do his work. But the maps were invaluable to his mission. He couldn't afford to waste time wandering aimlessly through each world.

Dozens of maps were accumulated along the desk, each with markings and scratches that depicted areas he had searched. So far, his efforts proved fruitless, but he had many more worlds to search through. There was bound to be an answer somewhere. He only had to keep searching.

On many occasions the thought occurred to him that perhaps what he was looking for existed elsewhere, a place his father had not yet discovered. He would quickly push the thought out of his head. Contemplating the futility of his search was, in itself, futile. If this mission failed, he had nothing else. And so, he would continue searching.

As he scribbled his writings into the next map, he felt another presence looming over him. Without turning, he spoke in a mechanical tone, "Mimi's already offered me tea. I'm fine for the night, thank you." He continued writing, despite noticing that the stranger had not left.

"That's not why I'm here." Blumiere stopped. It was the only voice that could have made him cease his work… One of two, actually. He placed his pen on the desk and stood from his chair.

"It was only a matter of time, I suppose," he spoke nonchalantly.

"Two years, is it?" Beauregard whispered. "A bit later than I'd hoped."

Blumiere stood to his full height, something he hadn't done in a long time, and faced his father. "Whose fault would that be?" Beauregard cracked a humorless grin. His face had aged significantly, sagging much more than it used to. His eyes had become hollow and dull, and he stooped as he stood. Supplementing his figure was an overwhelming sense of fatigue. It almost surprised Blumiere how much he had changed in only two years. On the other hand, it had been awhile since he took a good look at himself. Perhaps he had become much the same. At the very least, he felt the way his father looked.

"I suppose it would be mine," Beauregard replied. Even his voice had aged, taking on a rougher quality. He glanced down at the countless maps sprawled across the desk. "Any luck?"

"What do you think?" he replied venomously.

Beauregard didn't react to the insult. "I suppose you've seen much of the universe at so young an age. That's a good thing."

"Enough." The last thing Blumiere wanted now was small talk. "If you don't have anything important to say, then I'm really rather busy." Without waiting for a reply, he turned around and seated himself again, looking down at the map.

For a while, Beauregard did not say a word, nor did he leave. Blumiere continued to work hazily on the maps. His focus was long gone, but he hoped that his deliberate actions would deter his father from speaking further.

"When will this end, Blumiere?" As usual, he was mistaken.

"When I find what I'm looking for," he replied without turning.

"You'll never find her."

"That's what you would like to happen, isn't it?"

"It's only the truth." Blumiere continued working. His movements were slightly more forced than natural, but he no longer cared. "Blumiere, I know I've made many mistakes in my life. I've had to live with my regrets. What I did to her was… perhaps harsher than necessary." Blumiere shook his head disappointingly. It seemed physical appearance was the only thing that had changed about his father. "But I had my reasons for what I did."

Blumiere turned around in his chair now. "And what were they? I'm curious."

Beauregard paused, as if trying to choose his words. "She was a human, Blumiere. She doesn't belong with us."

"According to you."

"I didn't want you to suffer the same way I had. I couldn't bear to see that."

Blumiere could only laugh. "Well, it's a good thing you were there. Now, she's out there suffering because of me. That's what I get to live with. Is that what you wanted?"

"Of course not. I didn't think it would get this far."

"How far were you expecting?" Blumiere almost shouted.

Beauregard paused for a moment. "I'm aware, Blumiere. I did not think it through. But it's useless trying to change the past."

"I made her a promise. I swore I would make her happy, and I'm going to keep that promise." It was the same thing he'd told himself so many times before, the only thing he had left to cling to. "If I have to rip this universe apart to do it, I will."

"You don't understand, Blumiere. You'll get nothing from this search." He bowed his head slightly, as if trying to remember. "What became of her… What I did… She could be anywhere at any one time. Even if you were to find her… It wouldn't be her."

"I don't care." It was all Blumiere could do to withhold his temper. "It's as I said. She's waiting for me to keep my promise to her, and I intend to fulfill it." Turning back to the map, he focused on his task once more.

"You'll never find her," he repeated. Blumiere ignored the comment, shuffling through the mass of papers that lay in front of him. "I would bring her back myself if I could, but…"

That was it… his regret. Whether he intended to or not, he had exposed his vulnerability. Two years too late, Blumiere thought. Whatever else his father had tried to say trailed off into nothingness. Blumiere shook his head dejectedly at the meaninglessness of the man's words. He turned around one more time to face his father. He shrugged his shoulders, raising his hands to either side, asking, "What do you want from me?"

Beauregard hesitated, searching his thoughts for an answer. Finally, desperate, he replied, "I want my son back. I want to see Blumiere again."

Blumiere let out a short, hollow, humorless laugh. "Blumiere died the day she disappeared."

Beauregard nodded, not seeming to have expected a different answer. He looked up at his former son, the man who had died with his lover. He almost smiled at the irony. "Then who am I talking to now?"

Blumiere pondered the question for a moment, never losing eye contact with his father. In a cold, indifferent tone, he replied, "I don't know anymore." With that, he turned away from his father and sat at his desk, finished with the pointless conversation that only wasted more of his once precious time. Once again, the interruption had ruined his concentration, but he remained diligently fixed to the desk, refusing to move away. Soon, the chill of silence pervaded the room, and he became surrounded by a feeling so familiar to him now, he didn't need to check to be certain.

He was alone.

A long, deep breath escaped from him involuntarily. Sitting back in his chair, he stared up at the ceiling as the loneliness crept over him. He didn't mind it. In fact, it had been his preference for the past couple of years. He didn't wish to be seen crying in front of the others, much less have to bear their condolences. He was through crying now, though—his tears had long since dried up.

By then, the power of loneliness seemed his only friend, his reality. Happiness was long gone, and even now the sorrow and pain he'd known began to numb, worn out and tired in its fruitless endeavors. He felt nothing now. And so he wished to be alone, surrounded by the nothingness to which he could relate. Beyond this shell, life held no more meaning.

Except…

Blumiere stooped forward in his seat as a thought tickled his mind. Perhaps it was possible…

No, he thought. What would that accomplish? Nobody has found happiness from it. He almost laughed at the pointless remark. It wasn't as if happiness was something he could miss. Still, it was something he couldn't take lightly. His father had always warned him of the dangers. As much as he hated his father now, it was perhaps the one thing he had done right.

But there was nowhere else to turn.

Slowly, Blumiere got to his feet and organized the maps into a neat pile. He set them to the side and then turned to the door. He closed it, locking it from the inside as he did every day. Then, he removed his outer clothing, and glided to the makeshift bed he had created for himself, lying down on the hard mattress. This was an important decision, and he couldn't choose too hastily. He would think it over and then, tomorrow, he would act. Two years he had spent searching for his answer… He could wait one more night…

The second to last chapter has been revealed. I hope it's good. I've kinda had this chapter set aside for awhile.

Anyway, stay tuned for the conclusion to this story! Next week, Chapter 13 will be published! (I promise. NO MORE DELAYS this time!)