Chapter 350: Chapter 350
No longer feeling the familiar caress from above, Chocolate cracked open one eye to glance upward. The cat then stood up from Jenkins's lap and gave its fur a good shake.
It leaped nimbly from the man's lap, collected itself, and stared at him for a moment with bright, alert eyes. After a soft "meow," it padded out of the living room and slipped deftly through the small cat flap at the bottom of the door.
Snow was still falling in the night. The curtains were drawn, so the fire flickering in the hearth cast no light on the world outside.
The cat shot a hostile glance at the house of the widow who lived next door, swiped its claws through the air twice, and then darted swiftly back into the shadows.
When it reappeared, it was at the mouth of the alley nearest to Pops Antique Shop.
As a carriage passed by, the kerosene lamp beside the driver cast a small patch of shadow at the alley's entrance, and it was from there that the cat emerged.
It padded through the snow along the deserted Fifth Queen's Avenue, soon arriving before the door of Pops Antique Shop.
Papa Oliver wasn't in the shop. So much had happened today that he was needed in many other places.
Though the door was locked, it was no obstacle for Chocolate. The cat passed through the wall, then the floor, materializing in the hidden storeroom directly beneath the counter. It glanced around and found a round, stone sphere.
The cat lowered its head and began to bat the sphere back and forth between its front paws with a look of intense concentration. Before long, dark patterns began to appear on the stone's surface.
It stopped, and with a flick of its paw, the sphere levitated beside it. The cat then carried it back home. Jenkins was still leaning against the sofa, his breathing steady and slow.
He wore only a white shirt, but he was close enough to the fireplace that he wouldn't be cold. The man's youthful face glowed in the firelight. Chocolate stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment before suddenly remembering its task.
It wrapped the sphere in its fluffy tail and leaped onto Jenkins's chest.
The man stirred, but he was far too exhausted. He merely patted Chocolate in annoyance, not even opening his eyes before drifting back to sleep.
The cat's tail slowly rose, pointing straight up, the stone sphere coiled at its tip. The stone's outer layer began to flake away, the dust whisked off by an unseen current of air before it could settle on man or cat.
Finally, a huge black eyeball was revealed amidst the fur of Chocolate's tail. It squirmed, trying to escape, but after a few violent shakes from Chocolate, it grew still.
The tip of the tail drew close to Jenkins's heart, a vicious glint radiating from the eerie black eye.
Black threads seeped from the pupil, carefully piercing the fibers of the shirt to take root in his skin. In the air, millions of eyes shimmered into existence, their cold gaze fixed upon the sleeping man.
At that very moment, midnight struck.
The resounding, distant toll of a bell echoed in his ears, the continuous sound rousing a sliver of consciousness in the slumbering Jenkins.
"Ah, I almost forgot it was the end of the month!" Read full story at novᴇlfire.net
He thought this hazily, feeling his body fall endlessly through a white mist.
Faint whispers emerged from above. Woven into the murmurs and whispers was a resonant song.
The ethereal music was so sacred, so pure, so otherworldly—like a chorus of a thousand innocent children, or the soft humming of pure maidens—that it nearly made Jenkins overlook the other sounds.
They were still as chaotic and incomprehensible as ever, yet strange new knowledge was somehow being understood. As the process continued, he grew agitated, but a faint coolness spreading from his forehead eventually calmed his mind.
Two colossal figures appeared in the sky, clearly a man and a woman. The woman's form was so...
His head felt heavy, and drowsiness washed over him again as his consciousness faded into chaos. He had no will left to resist. Accompanied by those strange and bizarre sounds, all thought vanished once more.
On the sofa, Chocolate looked up, watching a golden spiritual light flicker violently across the man's body.
The eye, held fast by the cat's tail, had been arrogantly spreading its black tendrils across Jenkins's body. But the very instant his consciousness registered the strange whispers, the eyeball's expression twisted in terror, as if it had come face to face with its natural predator.
It tried to pull away from Jenkins's skin, but Chocolate would not allow it. The millions of eyes in the void simultaneously took on a pleading look, but the cat simply pretended not to see.
After holding on for a mere two seconds, it turned to stone. The black eyeball, along with the phantoms in the void, dissipated bit by bit.
The little cat flicked its tail, brushed the dust from Jenkins's shirt, and gave a satisfied nod.
It padded over to a soft cushion, ready to sleep, but then seemed to remember something. It hopped onto the carpet, trotted into a guest room, and returned with a small blanket in its mouth.
After draping it over Jenkins, it let out a contented meow, found the softest spot on the sofa, and kneaded it a couple of times before curling up and falling asleep as well.
When Jenkins opened his eyes again, it took him several seconds to recall what had happened before he'd fallen asleep.
He touched the blanket in surprise, then looked over at the little cat curled into a sleeping ball of fur beside him and broke into a grin.
"Chocolate's practically sentient now."
Because he had slept in such an awkward position, his entire body ached with varying degrees of soreness and numbness when he stood up, his neck especially stiff. Yet, his spirit had inexplicably increased by a large amount. Jenkins temporarily assumed that it was because he had gained some new insight into the world while listening to the whispers last night.
A lady's pocket watch lay on the coffee table—it was Miss Miller's, and Jenkins had forgotten to return it. Though he could have sent it directly to her with the help of the Star Spirit Rakour, Jenkins felt that would be making too much of a fuss.
"My own watch happens to be broken. I'll just use this one for now."
He flipped open the cover and checked the time. It was already seven o'clock.
If one were to turn back the clock, to the night of the 31st in the correct timeline, Miss Dolores Stuart in Ruen was also looking at her pocket watch.
The city of Ruen was the capital of the kingdom, located in the northern part of the continent. Its unique geography meant it was cold year-round, and so its population could not compare to the great cities of the southern kingdoms.
But it was, after all, the capital of one of the continent's greatest kingdoms. Even on a winter night, the city was brilliantly alive.
The royal palace sat atop a small hill in the city's center. The sacred twin moons hung high in the sky, but even their light could not compete with the palace's brilliance.
The Stuart family was not the sort of royalty that prized frugality. In fact, most of the light illuminating the entire palace came from expensive, scented candles rather than the cheaper gas lamps.
The royal family believed that only in this way could they properly display their prestige to the people.
Compared to the lady's watch used by the writer, the princess's pocket watch was far more magnificent. Through a watch face carved from a single gemstone, one could clearly see the intricate gear mechanism at work.
Yet, the gemstone's transparency was so perfectly balanced that it didn't draw one's attention too deeply to the gears, preventing them from upstaging the hands as the main attraction.
Miss Stuart watched the time anxiously, her finely shaped eyebrows—which her maid had spent a great deal of effort on—furrowed in a frown.
She was sitting at the dining table. For various reasons, she was the only family member present tonight.
When seven o'clock struck, Her Highness stood up, leaving her virtually untouched dinner on the table.
Servants pushed open the great doors, bowing low to the princess. She paid them no mind, leading a superfluous retinue of maids through an empty corridor, across a snow-covered courtyard, and, ignoring the chiding of the governess behind her, hiked up her skirt to climb the tower stairs, finally reaching the top floor of the castle's east tower.
From there, she could overlook the entire city.
Using the excuse that she needed a moment alone, she dismissed her attendants. Dolores gazed out at the bustling city and the magnificent, frozen vista beyond, letting out a long breath.
Her maid, Julia, emerged from a secret passage behind a bookshelf, a worried look on her face. In her hands, she held a blue-trimmed handkerchief, upon which rested an unremarkable wooden box.
"Your Highness, is this really...?"
"When we're alone, you can just call me... never mind. It's fine, my dear Julia. The entire operation was carried out by reliable people. Who could possibly find out? Besides, this rightfully belongs to the Stuarts."
The young princess spoke as she turned and opened the wooden box in her maid's hands.
Inside lay a transparent, pale blue chess piece. The moment the box was opened, a biting chill and a faint mist seeped out.
The maid knelt on one knee, presenting the chess piece to Dolores. The princess offered a shy smile, her eyes fixed on the piece with an enchanted expression before picking it up with her slender, pale hands.
A cool sensation traveled up her arm and toward her heart as the chess piece vanished in her palm.
Dolores reached out to help her personal maid to her feet, then turned back, a smile playing on her lips, to gaze at the night sky outside the window.
The river of stars hung overhead, the twin moons perfectly positioned in her line of sight. A cold night wind blew into the room, sending Dolores's hair flying out behind her.
A transparent figure emerged from behind Dolores, coalescing into the form of a majestic archer drawing a bow.
Its body was made entirely of transparent ice, with complex, ice-blue runes visible within. The archer's face was completely hidden by an ice helm, and the quiver on its back was empty, but the intimidating bow in its hands left no doubt as to this hero's strength.