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A calm summer evening. The sun, not sinking below the horizon yet, is slowly going to start moving towards its sunset. It's usually still hot at this time of year, but there's a pleasant coolness here, in the forest. A playful, gentle wind is ruffling the leaves of the trees, while the melodious trills of the birds flying high in the sky are occasionally heard in the air. A lonely man walks along a well-trodden path, looking around, as if deeply thinking about something, as if remembering something.
It's quiet in the forest. It's even too quiet, especially for his ears, which are used to the constant noise of shouting over each other workers' discordant voices, vendors' incessant toutings and their customers' questions (or curses, it depends on luck), conversations between ordinary men and women, who meet their acquaintances and briefly interrupt their very important affairs for a chat, and belly laughter of children who are running around everywhere carefree. This noise always reigns on the streets until the very nightfall in the small but very lively and busy town where Doctor Ashe Bradley now spends his days.
Ashe thinks that this place seems too familiar, too recognizable to him. Everything is the same as it was then — the same mountains that must be climbed before someone can see this forest, the same trees standing around, the same flowers that can be noticed rarely for now but they still peek out from behind the tall grass sometimes. He gets the impression that there were no passed five years, as if everything he experienced here happened a couple of days ago. The very thought of it gives Ashe the chills.
However, now the sky is completely clear, unlike that day, there's not a cloud in the sky, even in the distance, not a trace of approaching rain or storm, not an ominous hint of what he had to do that time. There's no sign of treagedy today, he doesn't come here with this aim. That's why the clouds in the sky have dispelled. Ashe wishes the same thing could happen to what's in his heart.
Perhaps, he shouldn't be so surprised that everything here feels exactly the same. After all, Ashe always had a pretty good memory. Especially about those days that he would like to forget more than anything else in the world, those days that torment his wounded, unable to heal completely heart. Memory is the most precious treasure? No, memory is the most horrible curse. That's why Ashe couldn't return to his hometown. He'll probably never be able to do that.
If someone asked him what he had forgotten in this place and why he had come so far to it, then Ashe... couldn't really answer this question. Truth be told, he himself doesn't fully understand what brought him here. Perhaps, a traveler, a rare visitor to their town, who came to the hospital with a wounded arm not so long ago, reminded Ashe of his own past and of the terrible mistake he had almost made. Or perhaps, for a long time there have been certain words in his head that he can only say in this place.
Just the thought of what he almost did, of what his own weakness almost pushed him into, fills Ashe's insides with disgust and shame. But it's a good sign. As long as he reacts to such thoughts in this way, he will never decide to try to kill someone for the sake of his selfish and unattainable desire again.
The memory of how he stopped then is one of the few memories Ashe is incredibly proud of. Even if his past self couldn't admit it right away, even if it regretted the missed opportunity some time later, he never wanted to kill. He just stubbornly tried to convince himself that he had no other choice, that he had to do something like this. It's possible that he even sincerely believed in his own lies for a while.
Somewhere deep down inside, he was aware of this anyway. He was just trying to escape from this bone-chilling realization, to strangle his feelings and bury them in the same grave along with the lives of others in the mansion, to silence his heart that was begging him to stop quietly, barely audibly, but still unceasingly. When the same words rang out in reality with the sound of someone else's voice, it became impossible to ignore them.
That's why Ashe left his knife there, he couldn't take it with him. Having seen a human being in Miss Claire, having seen in her something painfully similar to his dear innocent little sister, even if it was a mirage, an illusion, just a glimmer of a distant memory, he rejected both this bloody path and the possibility of ever returning to it. Undoubtedly, it was the renunciation of his decision. These hands aren't made for killing, his family would never want to see them being up to the elbows in blood. "You can still start over." And Ashe started, Noel.
He disappeared, ran away, wanting to be as far away from this place as possible. However, he didn't go as far as he initially wanted to. In fact, Ashe didn't even leave this country. One of the small towns he stopped in on his way somehow captured his heart. It vaguely reminded Ashe of his homeland, the place he hadn't been to in over a decade. But at the same time, the town was still not so much like his former home that it would be unbearable to live there. He decided to stay.
No one in the town knew anything about him. They weren't familiar with his pathetic, weak old personality, or with the darkness lurking in his heart, which still continued to live and speak to him in its demonic whisper. The perfect place to start over with a clean state. Even if this new life would be build on lies, was his past one cultivated from something else? At least, he wasn't going to hurt anyone this time.
The local residents didn't respond immediately favourably to his decision to stay in their town instead of briefly lingering in their memory as another rare traveler and diappearing from it after a week or two. There was open suspicion in their gazes, he was a stranger to them. Ashe didn't mind that kind of attitude towards him. It's stupid to blindly trust others. Stupid and dangerous. Besides, the town council eventually allowed him to stay anyway, especially when they found out about his medical knowledge, albeit rather surface-level. He had nothing to complain about.
There weren't many doctors in this small town, so the hospital always needed extra hands, even of a barely qualified man like him. At first, Ashe was assigned only the most minor tasks that didn't require any special knowledge: changing bed linen, feeding the patients who couldn't eat on their own, keeping medical instruments in order, and everything like that. He carried out these responsibilities in the morning and afternoon, while the evenings were devoted to studying, either independent one or under the supervision of other hospital workers. Ashe liked studying. Immersed in reading books or performing his duties, he was able to stop thinking about the things he couldn't fix at least for a while.
It was only two and a half years later that Ashe was able to start seeing patients and sometimes even treating them himself. It took much longer to stop internally shuddering at the cheerful "Dr. Ashe" that everyone in the town started to call him, trying not to show the whole storm of raging emotions in his chest and to continue smiling the same as usual. Fortunately, Ashe was always good at pretending.
Everyone in the town liked Ashe. The elderly doctors praised his intelligence and diligence very much, noting that other young people should follow his example. The patients trusted him more than the rest of the doctors in the town. Several nurses who did work at the hospital periodically flirted with him. Ashe didn't quite understand how to react to it, and that's why he pretended that he didn't notice anything. Everyone thought and still thinks he's a kind, good man... They don't know, they don't understand. Honestly speaking, Ashe felt much better when people looked at him with wariness and expected some kind of dirty trick from him all the time. He deserves to be viewed only like this.
Ashe doesn't think he's a good person. Noel and others can think whatever they want, but his "kind" version exists only in their heads. His old, terribly naive past died in the same fire which killed his whole family, in which his whole world disappeared. Only this body, by some rediculous misunderstanding, by some stupid mistake of fate, continues to walk on the ground, breathe and talk.
He can't say that he doesn't like treating people, helping them. Because he likes doing it. But Ashe loves his job only because it gives him the meaning of life, gives him a reason to wake up the next morning instead of falling asleep one day forever. By helping other people, he, being the same incorrigible egoist as he was five years ago, first of all, helps himself. There's no real kindness in this. All of them make a mistake, he's not a good person.
Despite the fact that everyone in the town treats him only with great friendliness, there's still a wall between Ashe and the townspeople. He has built it himself. It feels strange to open up to other people. For fear of possible betrayal or for fear of finding someone incredibly important and then losing them again, but he always keeps his distance from others and keeps his heart locked on the key that sank into oblivion along with the cursed mansion. He can't call any of his senior colleagues or acquaintances of his age a friend.
Of course, there can be no question about any family. The very idea of using this word to refer to anyone other than those Ashe lost in that fire seems blashemous to him. To everyone in the neighbourhood, he has remained a friendly but overly busy man, married to his favourite job. His parents and sister would probably have been upsetd by such a way of his thinking. Maybe, mother and father would have liked to see their grandchildren, even if only from heaven, and Lilia was always interested in the conversations about his personal life (or rather, about its absense). But these wishes of theirs aren't destined to come true, Ashe can't, he just can't. He only hopes that his family is still proud of him who miraculously hasn't stained his hands in blood, saves people now and has accepted their deaths.
Of course, it wasn't easy, it wasn't easy at all. Folk wisdom blatantly lies, time doesn't heal. However... The old wounds still hurt less than the fresh ones, and that's why his pain has dulled. It hasn't disappeared, no.
The grief he silently shared with others has helped him a lot in accepting the harsh truth. It's impossible to bring back the dead. There's no such wonderful hospital in the world where no one has ever died. His isn't an exception either. And seeing how lamenting, grieving, ordinary in all aspect people steadfastly accept the reality from which he was running for ten years, he can't help but want to change himself too. The demon in his heart has whispered that all of this just means that these people haven't loved their closed ones as much as he did, but Ashe has shut him up every time. This time, he won't surrender to that voice from hell itself. He sees the alternative that has come to him hundreds, no, thousands of times in nightmares all too clearly.
He remembers all too well Miss Claire's death which he saw in every detail in his dreams. Her death at his hands. Everything is burned into his memory, resonating in his chest with a piercing pain: the usually bright, beaming with kindness face, distorted by a grimace of unbearable pain; clear eyes, gradually losing their usual shine; the lips twisted in bitter regret, desperately trying to whisper something; the eviscerated thorax from where the cold, unbeating, inhuman heart is visible. Ashe stands over her, mocking, taunting. The heart in his chest is hot, beating very fast and also inhuman, because a human can't treat innocent blood on his hands with such cruelty. Only a demon from the underworld, a hellish creature with pure evil flowing throught its veins instead of blood, is capable of such a thing.
He remembers all too well the look on Noel's face who came helping Miss Claire too late. There's deep disappointment in his eyes that looks so full of pain, as if Ashe has torn Noel's heart out of his chest, not the girl's who is now lying motionlessly and soundlessly on the floor. "After all, you're just like him." The demon is grinning with Ashe's teeth, saying, "I told you so".
He remembers all too well his mother, father and Lilia whom he managed to bring back, whom he was finally able to see after so much time being apart, they're alive and unharmed... And they don't recognize this smiling madman standing in front of them with a crazy look on his face, covered in blood from head to toe and stretching his hands to them. It's understandable, they remembered him as their good, kind, rational son and brother, not as the monster he was in those dreams. Father covers mother and Lilia with his body. He looks more shocked and shaking with indignation than really scared, and Ashe is glad for this at least. He isn't so lucky with mother and Lilia. The woman covers her mouth with her hands, her eyes widen in horror at a flash of realization that just can't be true. It can't be, right? The girl shrinks into a ball, her whole body is trembling wildly as she is clinging to her mother. Ashe wants to assure father that it's him, his son, that everything will be alright now. He wishes to tell mother about how hard he was trying to see all of them again. More than anything in the world, he dreams of hugging Lilia and calming her down, whispering that he's here. Ashe looks at his scarlet-stained hands and slowly realizes what a terrible mistake he has made. He doesn't say anything or move, just laughs quietly at himself, with hopelessness. Of course, he wouldn't hurt them. Even demons have something they hold dear.
A branch snapped under his feet forcibly pulls Ashe out of the world of his nightmares, that fortunately never materialized in real life, and returns him to the silent world of the forest. It turns out that he's already reached the colourful flower meadow, and, therefore, there isn't much left to the place where the witch's cursed mansion stands... or, to be more precisely, where it stood.
Ashe looks around with an anxiety that even he himself doesn't fully understand, either like a rabbit cornered by a wolf, or like a thief caught red-handed. How stupid he looks now, afraid to find here the people whom he will definitely never meet in this place. Ashe actually has no idea where Claire, Wilardo, and Sirius might have gone, but he's absolutely sure, with 100% certainty: they didn't stay here that time. As for Noel... It would be a real miracle to see him anywhere now, right?
Blood, a lot of blood, the deep wounds and peeking out of them, peering intently into Ashe's face eyes, the devil only knows where they came from that time. Ashe still doesn't know what all this meant, but he's pretty aware of one thing: nothing good was waiting for Noel. "You can still start over. Unlike me." And the face that Ashe later, much later, began to see sometimes, rarely, but more often than he wanted to, in some patients. The face of a terminally ill person, who is sure of their imminent death, but not afraid of it, who accepts their fate.
And Ashe couldn't do anything with it again. Just like he couldn't save his patients from the disease for which there's no cure in their world. Just like he couldn't rush into his house engulfed in flames and pull at least one persone out of it. Just like he couldn't bring himself to say goodbye to Noel properly, without masks and lies, refusing to stop chasing an illusory dream. The villainess called fate kept taking away something important from Ashe, sparing only his life. The best thing he can do is to accept his losses and move one.
But now he finally will be able to say goodbye and say out aloud what he's been holding in himself for all these five years. Noel won't hear him, but people who come to the graves to say goodbye to the dead don't talk to the departed. They talk to themselves. Even if the grave doesn't have a headstone, and it itself is a wide empty glade in the middle of the forest without the slightest hint of the sinister house that once towered over it.
Ashe starts talking. His head is spinning from the flood of overwhelming thoughts that he can't stop now, and his throat is dry from how long he's been silent. But the words come out of his open mouth surprisingly clearly.
"Hello... Noel. Are you surprised that I've come here again? Don't worry, me too, me too... But you can be calm, I won't do anything this time. Miss Claire and others aren't here. There's only me here. I've come to talk with you. It's probably weird to call it that though, because you won't answer me anymore. But I think you'll still be happy to at least listen to what I'm about to tell you. I... didn't kill Miss Claire. Couldn't do this. I don't know what she's doing now. But it's Miss Claire. I'm sure she's doing well, she still loves the world around her and the people in it. But I hope she's not as trusting as she used to be. It's too easy to use naive people in our world. I don't want that for her anymore. You were right. I dind't want to kill her. Her or anyone else. Are you glad to know this?... I lied to myself, trying to convince myself that you were the only one who was wrong. But it wasn't true. Although I'm not sure that I'm so different from your father. In my eyes, not really. You should know, I still don't think kindness alone can help someone... In most cases, for sure. That's why I've decided to become a doctor. Where compassion fails, knowledge saves the day. In situations where the ordinary wish to make someone feel better doesn't change anything, skills gain stength. I've worked as a doctor for too little time and I won't say that I have something to be especially proud of for now. But I already help someone. At least, I want to believe it very much... You figured it out yourself, but my family is dead. It's been dead for a long, long, long time. And I've only recently accepted it. Maybe, even you won't understand me here, but... When I lost my family, I lost my whole world. I lost everything that I ever had. Don't get me wrong, these feelings are still there, but... But now I'm ready to move one. To go forward. I don't want them to be ashamed of me. I want them to be proud of the life I have... There's one more very important thing that I want to tell you. Noel... Thank you. If you didn't say all those words back then, I wouldn't have stopped. And I'd have definitely regretted it. This outcome wouldn't have ended well for anyone. I've always believed that your ability to think about others, even when you feel extremely bad yourself, makes you a really incredibly person. Yes, I still believe so. Honestly speaking... to some degree, I'd love to be like you. And even if this wish can't be granted for now, I want to believe that one day it'll come true... Noel... The day you pushed me from that falling bookshelf wasn't just the day you saved my life. Together with it, you saved my heart. I don't think it deserved this back then, but I still want to thank you again. It's only thanks to you that I was able to start all over again. It's only thanks to you that I've been able to get this far. Thank you for saving my heart, Noel."
For a moment, Ashe feels like someone is listening attentively to his every word. But it's just his imagination, isn't it?