Abigail turned the last page, feeling as if a vice had griped her heart
tightly. She remained for a while staring into emptiness, a hand on the
leaflet, unable to shake that dull weight on her chest. Her eyes caught the
faint gleam of the metallic cylinder in front of her. She ran a respectful
finger on the light saber's cool surface. So many memories--
"She ceased to live that day, you know."
The frail black clad figure of Ada stood near the door. Abigail froze and straightened in her chair guiltily. The elderly woman waved her discomfort away. "The manuscript and the saber were intended for you."
"Do you mean that she actually died of this?" inquired Abigail hesitantly.
"Oh no," said the old maid with a mirthless laughter. "No one dies of grief, lass. She lived quite a long time afterwards, until time turned her into an old lady. Just as he grew an old man."
"Is he still alive? Did he ever see her again before--"
Ada lowered her eyes and shook her head.
"They died alone then," the young woman said slowly.
"And that's it? She went through all of this just to disappear without a trace?" she exclaimed then somewhat indignantly. "What did her master tell her?"
The older woman tilted her head. " Nothing. He only gave her the copy of the Code the Council was sending to her. It was their answer, she knew then that she had to go."
Abigail arched her eyebrows. "How could she? She loved him, didn't she?"
"Because he would have defied them and broken his oath for her. She couldn't stay without betraying what he was in some way," she answered. " It happened long ago, what is left unsaid in this leaflet is theirs. I know nothing more."
"What did she do after that?" Abigail asked after a short silence.
"She returned to Caesarea."
' L'Orient désert,' the young woman thought with a touch of bitterness.*
Ada gazed distractedly the polished hard floor for a moment before stepping back. A thousand questions ran in Abigail's head but she remained quiet. Instead, she watched the maid stop on the threshold and turn lightly.
"You have her eyes." She smiled and walked away.
~*~
Abigail went to her car parked under the vault of the chestnut trees alley, feeling curiously more acutely aware of her surroundings. More alive. Quite strange when her weekend had evolved around a corpse, she mused flippantly.
Just before she got in her car, an unknown warm wind, coming from nowhere, grazed her face. On an impulse she couldn't quite explain, she turned around without hesitation to look up at the open window on the first floor. The wind made the ivy shudder and played with the shutters as it swirled gently in the room where Lady Noor lay.
Abigail smiled. He came for her.
Fin.
*Translation: 'The Eastern desert', quote from "Berenice," referring to the queen's exile at the end of the play.
"She ceased to live that day, you know."
The frail black clad figure of Ada stood near the door. Abigail froze and straightened in her chair guiltily. The elderly woman waved her discomfort away. "The manuscript and the saber were intended for you."
"Do you mean that she actually died of this?" inquired Abigail hesitantly.
"Oh no," said the old maid with a mirthless laughter. "No one dies of grief, lass. She lived quite a long time afterwards, until time turned her into an old lady. Just as he grew an old man."
"Is he still alive? Did he ever see her again before--"
Ada lowered her eyes and shook her head.
"They died alone then," the young woman said slowly.
"And that's it? She went through all of this just to disappear without a trace?" she exclaimed then somewhat indignantly. "What did her master tell her?"
The older woman tilted her head. " Nothing. He only gave her the copy of the Code the Council was sending to her. It was their answer, she knew then that she had to go."
Abigail arched her eyebrows. "How could she? She loved him, didn't she?"
"Because he would have defied them and broken his oath for her. She couldn't stay without betraying what he was in some way," she answered. " It happened long ago, what is left unsaid in this leaflet is theirs. I know nothing more."
"What did she do after that?" Abigail asked after a short silence.
"She returned to Caesarea."
' L'Orient désert,' the young woman thought with a touch of bitterness.*
Ada gazed distractedly the polished hard floor for a moment before stepping back. A thousand questions ran in Abigail's head but she remained quiet. Instead, she watched the maid stop on the threshold and turn lightly.
"You have her eyes." She smiled and walked away.
~*~
Abigail went to her car parked under the vault of the chestnut trees alley, feeling curiously more acutely aware of her surroundings. More alive. Quite strange when her weekend had evolved around a corpse, she mused flippantly.
Just before she got in her car, an unknown warm wind, coming from nowhere, grazed her face. On an impulse she couldn't quite explain, she turned around without hesitation to look up at the open window on the first floor. The wind made the ivy shudder and played with the shutters as it swirled gently in the room where Lady Noor lay.
Abigail smiled. He came for her.
Fin.
*Translation: 'The Eastern desert', quote from "Berenice," referring to the queen's exile at the end of the play.