11. Darkness
.
1370 DR, city of Waterdeep
.
The woman in black dipped the nib into the ink, then tapped the tip twice against the edge of the inkwell, letting the excess ink drop down. She paused a moment with her pen raised in midair, her gaze automatically diverted to the window beyond which the huge cemetery of Waterdeep could be seen. It was so big that many people called it City of the Dead, and that made sense since that neighborhood also had its citizens.
Julie winced, disgusted by the thought. Then she concentrated again on the paper sheets on her desk and began to write.
Dear Anne,
Father Meridon of the Kelemvor Church advised me to manage my bereavement by writing you a letter as if I could still really talk to you. I don't think this practice will help me, but a priest of the god of the dead is supposed to be used to advising people who have lost someone, so I concluded it was worth a try.
Do you know what would I give to fold this letter, put it in an envelope, entrust it to a delivery boy, and know it will reach you for real?
Our brothers don't understand. They try to be close to me, but they don't know what it's like to lose your twin, to feel halved. They never understood our bond. When you died I felt it inside me, I knew it immediately. Thinking back to that day-
Julie took a deep breath and turned back to the window, stubbornly keeping her eyes open because she knew if she blinked then the tears she was holding would fall. She was a daughter of House Domedias, and the Domedias don't cry, not even for the dead.
She groped for the paper he was writing, without looking at it. Her fingertips got stained with ink, but she didn't care. She crumpled the sheet of paper, walked over to the fireplace and threw it into the flames. Julie stood there for a moment watching it burn, realizing in the back of her mind that not even the fire's warmth could really heat the cold she always felt on her, as if she had a layer of ice clinging to her skin.
The sunlight was fading now. Soon her brother Alec would be out with his crossbow and Holy Water ampoules, entering the graveyard to hunt down the most dangerous undead. There was a time Anne would have gone with him, armed with an arsenal of magic wands. But then Anne had died trying to retrieve a powerful artifact that had ended up in the dangerous hands of a vampire, and Julie's life had been nothing but darkness ever since.
The surviving twin looked around as if she was seeing her office for the first time. Even at sunset the place had never seemed so dark. Once the fireplace lit up the small room and the candles on the desk seemed to pick up that light and reflect it a dozen times. Now it looked just like a dreary, half-empty room that was barely lit. Perhaps it was Anne's presence that brought light first. She had always been a sunny girl, so unusual for a Domedias. Julie sat back at her desk and grabbed another sheet. This time it wasn't a blank page of writing paper, it was a parchment with a city registry form. A form to request to change your name.
I can't help but always take you with me. We've been together even before we were born. Now that you're gone, I can't help but carry this darkness into my heart. Maybe I can't handle my grief because I don't really want to, I don't want to move on, I can't do this to you.
With these gloomy thoughts, Julie dipped the nib back into the inkwell and wrote two words on the form. It wasn't a decision she'd made lightly and she knew Alec and Herz wouldn't approve.
Julienne Domedias
She put the pen back and read her new name, turning it over in her mind, hearing the sound, as if trying to get beyond the sad meaning.
Julie couldn't let his sister Anne go. They had always been one. And if that meant a part of her would forever be dark, then so be it. There was nothing she could do about it.