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The bright light that illuminated Navia was starting to give her a headache. The white walls were lifeless, with white flooring to match. A table sat beside her with a bizarre contraption that made her uneasy. She shifted in the chair, already uncomfortable. How much longer would this take?
The room was small, tucked away in the dark corners of Fontaine. Unknown to the average Fontanian, its presence existed only in hushed whispers heard in the dead of night.
Was it fate that led Navia to its doors? Perhaps desperation was a more correct description. Places such as this only preyed on the ones who were already on their knees.
“Is this everything?” the man in the room with Navia asked, gesturing to the closed box on the table. He was an odd fellow with shoulder-length blue hair and a mask that covered his eyes.
Navia nodded, swallowing hard. She’d gone through all her personal items, throwing in anything that contained the slightest memory. No chances would be taken for this procedure to go wrong.
The fleeting memory of Navia standing in front of the box, her vision blurred by tears as she quickly threw items into it hastily flashed across her mind. At the time, she pushed herself, moving through the pain as she scoured her house for items. At last, she dropped the box on her vanity. Her reflection was unrecognizable. Her eyes rimmed with red, her tears finally reaching a point where nothing came out.
There was one final memory to be sealed away. A golden frame, ornate with glittering roses. Inside, a picture of Navia laughing. Her arms were thrown around someone’s shoulders. Her eyes aren’t facing the Kamera, focused on the other person in frame with her. Dusting of red painted both their cheeks. They were both happy.
Navia sighed, placing the picture into the box and closing the lid. There were no more tears left to cry.
The man returned to his work. “This won’t hurt you physically, but mentally…well,” a smile crept across his face, “it’s one last journey through those painful memories.”
Navia gripped the armrest. Maybe she made the wrong decision. But she pushed down her fears, knowing this was the best solution.
Grief haunted her. Sewn neatly to her heels like a second shadow, it followed her everywhere. Taunting her. Humiliating her. Breaking her. She saw the past in mirrors and reflections. Memories floated to the surface whenever she went outside. Voices of the dead filled her head when it was silent.
She witnessed two deaths in one day. The very real death of her father. And the theoretical death of the one she loved the most. The latter was by definition, still alive. Navia could very well go outside to her favourite patisserie and be blessed by those violet eyes, and gentle smile only reserved for her. Though, would the sun still shine when she saw her? Or would Navia be clouded with sorrow and pain when that smile was directed at her—a shot straight to the heart.
“During the procedure, you’ll only recount the memories of the most impactful moments. You must move through your memories and leave them behind, and only then, will the process end successfully,” the doctor continued.
He leaned over Navia, pressing wires to her temple. Her arm was taken, and the vein was searched for before an IV was slid in. Navia looked away, not wanting to see the liquid being pumped into her body. Instead, she locked eyes with the doctor, at least, she assumed so, even if his mask covered his eyes. The corner of his mouth curled up into a smirk.
“Any final questions?” he asked.
Her body grew heavy. The waiver was signed before Navia entered the room, her signature as lovely as always, felt like a betrayal, signing away the times that once made her the happiest. Her decision was made. There was no going back.
Knowing what love, true love, felt like and then watching it slip through her fingers was a loss far greater than she expected. The deep ache in her chest never subsided. It fought with her mind, her heart, and her body. She was a ghost of her former self. The people of Spina di Rosula deserved a boss who wasn’t weak.
She needed to say goodbye, once and for all.
“No.”
Her eyes flickered shut, the world going dark.
The room was dark. Navia was sitting, her hands pressed into her thighs, sweaty and clammy. The crimson curtains before her were drawn wide open. The show had already begun.
Actors waltzed across the stage. Their voices filled every space of the theater. Everyone in the room was transfixed by the ongoing story. In the past, Navia had been one of them. She loved attending the theater with the two people she loved the most.
If she looked to her left, she knew who’d be sitting next to her. Instead, she looked right, her father appearing in her vision. Tears welled in her eyes immediately. Red dusted his cheeks, his eyes shined. He looked alive. His eyes caught hers, and he flashed a brilliant smile.
Navia closed her eyes, her chest tightening. Her nails dug deeper into her thighs. She was drowning. All of the hurt and pain she buried deep was resurfacing at a rapid pace. The wounds were open once again, and she was bleeding out. She wanted to reach out and beg her father to leave Fontaine for good.
There was a brush of fingertips on her shoulder. She faltered, her gaze being pulled from her father to his killer. She was met with violet eyes that studied her intensely.
“You’re tense.” The voice was higher pitched than she remembered. How many years had it been since this moment passed? They were only teens, still young to the world. Both new to the feelings that were swirling around them.
Navia shrugged the hand off her shoulder and faked her best smile. She hated how she still relaxed under those steady eyes.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry. Let’s enjoy the show.”
She focused on the performers. Her past boxed her in on both sides. The only way out was forward. She needed to push on.
The same hand as before rested on top of hers. Navia’s eyes snapped down.
“You’re trembling,” the voice beside her said.
She remembered this night. The first time either one of them made a move that felt more intimate than friendship. Navia could pull away and stop this from developing. Yet it crushed something inside of her to deny these two young girls the chance to fall in love.
Her eyes were still on their hands. She breathed in before shifting to entwine their fingers together. Warmth spread through her body. Their hands fit together perfectly. Navia always thought they were two pieces of the same puzzle. But perhaps they were both too damaged to ever fit together snuggly ever again.
“I feel better now, thanks to you, Clorinde.”
Navia closed her eyes, the music around her slowly turning into silence. The person to her right vanished. It had always been a father-daughter trip to the theatre.
Somewhere in a lab, a ticket to a theatre performance burned to ashes.
Navia was soaking wet. She opened her eyes to see dark grey skies that poured down rain angrily. She was currently hiding under a pillar in the open-roofed gazebo—not that it did much to protect her from the storm.
She looked around for her umbrella only to find it nowhere in sight. Had she left it at home?
“Lady Navia!” a voice called out.
Navia turned, seeing Clorinde running toward her, her yellow umbrella in one hand as she held another umbrella in the other to keep herself dry. Her brows were pinched together with worry as she neared. She always worried about Navia, even after her father’s death. Even after she knew Navia wanted nothing to do with her, she still worried the same.
“My knight in shining armour!” Navia swooned, forcing a smile. She grabbed the umbrella from Clorinde, not that it would do much good anymore.
Clorinde didn’t reply. She frowned, reaching out cautiously before tucking away the wet strands of hair that hung in front of Navia’s face. “You should return inside and take a warm bath before you catch a cold,” she said.
Navia slightly leaned into the touch, the feeling so familiar. She remembered this moment clearly. The day she finally crossed the line and made Clorinde hers.
“I could do that,” Navia agreed. She dug her hand in her pocket, feeling around for her lipstick. Once her fingers brushed against the small tube, she smiled and pulled it out with excitement. Popping off the lid, Navia pursed her lips as she reapplied the colour before putting the makeup back in her pocket. “Or we could do something else instead."
Before Clorinde could respond, Navia grabbed her hand and pulled her into the middle of the gazebo. Both umbrellas fell to the ground— completely forgotten. Shoes stepped in puddles as Navia twirled them around.
It took Clorinde a moment before she relaxed, following Navia’s movements. Her arm slipped around Navia’s waist as she pulled her close. They danced like they stood against the world. Like they had a chance to escape the cruel fate that would befall them in a few years. Their steps were in sync with one another as they spun and danced.
The rain continued to pour.
“Your lipstick has smudged,” Clorinde whispered. She reached up, her fingers brushing against the corner of Navia’s lips. Feather-light, almost afraid to touch her skin, yet they remained in place.
Navia tilted her head, her lips pressing over the pads of Clorinde’s fingers. They were still young enough in this memory that she hadn’t adorned her gloves yet. Her fingers were calloused from hours upon hours of using her sword. Perhaps it’d hurt less if it had been her sword that pierced Navia’s heart.
Red sprinkled across Clorinde’s cheeks at Navia’s touch. Her eyes fluttered shut as she sucked in a deep breath. She was absolutely gorgeous. Navia was going to miss her terribly.
It was natural to close the distance between them. Clorinde’s lips were soft, hesitant, almost afraid that if she moved, Navia would disappear. If only she knew that in a few years, her nightmare would become a reality.
Navia broke the kiss only for Clorinde to chase her lips, pulling her into a kiss more heated than either was expecting. Clorinde’s hands were on Navia’s face, keeping her close. The touch was intoxicating. For Clorinde, this was their first kiss.
For Navia, this was their last.
“Now my lipstick really is smudged!” Navia said when they finally broke for air. Her chest was heavy as she did her best to hold onto her fractured composure. Her nose twitched as she failed to hold back her tears.
“Lady Navia, you’re crying.”
“Oh? Am I? Silly me!” Navia quickly wiped away the stream of tears to no avail. They kept pouring down her face. “I’m just… so happy.” Her mouth wobbled as she tried to smile. Looking into these eyes she had loved for a lifetime caused her stomach to churn and her mind whirl.
“Kiss me again,” Navia pleaded, desperate to hold onto Clorinde one last time as the world faded to white. How was she supposed to give this all up? Maybe the pain of their past haunting her was worth it. Maybe this was a mistake.
The press of Clorinde’s lips against hers disappeared as a tube of lipstick burnt. Navia’s eyes opened to find herself alone in the gazebo, her yellow umbrella by her feet on the ground.
Was there supposed to be someone next to her? She couldn’t remember.
Rain continued to pour as the memory disappeared.
Alarms blasted as Navia shot up from the chair, her face wet with tears. She was back in the medical room, yet Clorinde was still fresh in her mind.
A whimper escaped her lips as she reached for the ring she wore on her finger to comfort her. It had been her mother’s wedding ring. She was young when her mother passed. Grief was a concept her child mind could not comprehend. Now, she was old friends with the emotion.
Clorinde had been her life. They were so intertwined in each other’s lives that Navia was afraid to see a future without her. She could give up and leave with a few memories left intact. She could give up.
But that wasn’t fair to her.
These memories, her time with Clorinde, would trap her, leaving her wandering the past while her future moved on without her. Their story was over. She had reached the final page. There was no alternate ending. All that was left was to close the book and put it on the shelf—allowing dust to settle on the pages.
A firm hand gripped her shoulder. Navia looked up to stare at the doctor.
“Are you, okay? The procedure is almost complete. Then you’ll never encounter these… annoying feelings again.”
Navia choked back a sob as her finger circled the gems on her ring. “What is left?”
“A pocket watch,” the doctor replied, lifting the gold watch. It dangled before her eyes, taunting her.
The end was right in front of her. She had to take it. Her heart begged her to reconsider, but Navia had made up her mind.
Taking a deep breath, Navia wiped her tears and adjusted herself in the chair. “I apologize for the delay. I’m fine now.”
The doctor stared at her red-rimmed eyes wearily. “Alright,” he said slowly, but he sauntered back to the machine.
Navia closed her eyes, prepared to let this story die once and for all.
Her father’s body lay in a pool of blood. Navia bent down, her shaking hands covering his eyes to allow him to rest peacefully. She felt a presence behind her.
“Navia...”
It wasn’t her first time reliving this conversation. Each word spoken she’d gone over in her mind thousands of times, turning them every which way to find a different outcome. The meanings never changed. The pain never dulled. It wasn’t her first time reliving this conversation.
But it would be her last.
Navia was silent as she stood up slowly, turning to face her final obstacle. Clorinde stood with her back straight, her shoulders pressed down so her head was held high. Her resolve had always been sturdier than Navia’s. Though, it didn’t discount the small cracks that appeared in her eyes.
Clorinde coughed, clearing her throat. “Navia… I’m sorry it came to this.”
Navia’s eyes flickered to the puddle of blood where her father’s body once lay. It had now been carried off. She would never see him again.
“It was your duty to duel him. I don’t expect you to break the law for us,” Navia said. This conversation had already happened once before, yet her voice still shook. It still hurt.
Clorinde took a hesitant step forward, her hand reaching toward Navia before she snatched it back quickly. “This isn’t how I intended these events to play out…”
“Someone was going to die.”
Clorinde flinched. The words were harsh. Her eyes fell to the ground. The conversation was going in a direction neither of them wanted. Someone had to steer it back.
“I have something for you,” Clorinde tried, reaching into her pocket to pull out Navia’s father’s golden pocket watch. “He wanted me to give this to you.”
Navia quickly snatched it from her, letting it dangle from her fingertips as she stared at the bloodied fingerprints that dulled the watch. Her heart lurched as she closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears from forming.
“I believe this is the end, Clorinde. For us both.” She listened to the sharp intake of breath. “I have loved you since we were children. I’ll continue to love you until we are both buried six feet underground, but I cannot continue to harbour this pain.”
“Lady Navia…”
Navia raised a hand to stop her. She couldn’t bear to listen to any arguments or reason. If she stopped now, she was afraid she would never finish.
“I have to let you go, or else I’ll be stuck in this endless cycle of suffering. It isn’t fair to Spina di Rosula to have a president who is consumed by grief. I owe it to them—and myself to end this here and now.”
She didn’t expect Clorinde to cry. Even as children, her tears had been few and far between, slowly decreasing until they stopped altogether. Even now, her eyes remain dry.
Navia clutched the pocket watch tightly in her hand. “Goodbye, Clorinde. You were the one thing I loved most in this world. Even when you’re gone from my memories, the hole you left will never fully disappear. I’ll miss you forever.”
The woman in front of her disappeared. Navia wondered why it felt like she lost two loved ones that day instead of just one. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of the second person.
Navia woke up in a strange medical office. The doctor in the room explained her memories had been altered at her demand. He would not tell her who or what had been removed, instead smiling as he helped Navia from the chair.
“Congratulations on a successful treatment, Ms. Caspar. I hope your future contains brighter days.”
As she left, her steps were lighter, her heart fluttering for the first time since her father’s passing. She looked up at the bright blue sky, knowing she would be alright.
To celebrate, Navia decided to visit her favourite patisserie. As she neared the bakery, she passed by a woman with long violet hair pulled into a ponytail who was seated on the outdoor patio, engulfed by the newspaper. For the briefest of moments, Navia stopped, watching as the woman brought her teacup to her lips to take a sip of her drink, an unknowing feeling settling in her stomach, before continuing into the store.
What a lovely shade of lipstick that woman wore.