Chapter Four

2082

Across from each other they sit, separated by only a small oak table. At hand are two old-fashioned glass goblets, one holding the inescapable red elixir and the other filled with nothing but clear water. She sighs, "I see in your eyes the confusion as to why I have brought you here."


He, in reply, looks away, out the window to the overpopulated London street below. She gently prods him, "Are you still stunned at how much I can change between our meetings? I must confess your own beauty never ceases to amaze me." She pauses, then adds, "And others, so it seems."


He quickly returns his gaze to her, questions flashing across his mind. She continues on, "I have watched over you every night for the past two hundred years, my love. All those times you felt a conflict in the air, that was I, defending your right to freedom from those who would take it."


She looks sorrowfully at him. "But now, you have the strength to fight them alone. I know this and yet I worry."


Glancing pointedly at his untouched drink, she stands and walks around the table, then sits on its edge, close to him. "I need to apologize, master Pierre. You've suffered at my hand because I had not the courage to release you. Might you find in your tender heart the reason to forgive me, my beloved troubadour?" He looks at her, perplexed.


"Ah! to have abandoned the ancient innocence for that of the modern world as you have done! You connect so well to these times."


And by that token, she tells herself, he shall survive.


She returns back to her seat and collapses into it. "My will to live fails me, poet. I can no longer exist in this state, without that vital hope."


Frightfully aware of what she means, he stands up and comes to her side. She smiles bitter-sweetly and unclasps the necklace with an aquamarine pendant around her neck. "Take this, faithful child, and leave me alone one final time."


He does as she asks and pockets the necklace. She touches his cheek and whispers, "There was so much more I wished to tell you, but alas!, I cannot bring myself to say it. A fond adieu, my dear!"


She rises from her chair and takes his hands in hers. "Think not of me in the years hereafter but of all you can yet give. Leave, my eternal friend, leave me."


She turns away from him and crosses to the door of the room. She quickly opens it and, taking one glance back, closes it behind her. She leans against it, fingers splayed on the wood and mutters, "At last! Forever ends and I can lay down my life for you as I should have done those many years ago."


Moments later, he throws open the door to find an empty hall save for a single black rose. He picks it up then looks around in anguish.


"Sheridan!"