♛♢♣♡♠♛

Confusion after confusion—Elliot could not stomach anything else in his mind. The Chosen One, Praesidio, Alskar—now, what? Nightingale? An immortal? He wished it was all just yet another complex dream.

“An immortal...” Elliot’s sentence trailed, barely audible. “Requires love?”

Henrique nodded. “Cut their throats, stab their brains—they will heal. They cannot die—unless, the Chosen One does not love them,” he explained.

Elliot bit his lower lip; his shoulders tensed. First, an abundance of information was shoved down his throat; now, another new responsibility was burdened to him.

Well, it did not sound very bad—loving someone else, seemed easy, right? No. It was another strange responsibility dumped at him. The role of the Chosen One was ridiculous—being chosen by Goddess, only to love someone? It would have been cooler and more exciting if his role were meant to bear half of Goddess’ power, fighting evil and preventing the leakage of Goddess power. Instead, his role was to love someone—a stranger, nonetheless. And that was supposed to be enough to save the world?

Goddess seemed to play some weird gamble of fate.

Henrique was unsure if he should continue the explanation or not. He could tell from the look in his son’s face that he had too much information. He felt guilty. He wanted to reassure his son, but instead he put more burden on his shoulder. “It is still unknown what form the Nightingale will take,” Henrique decided to tell his son. “Though believed to be human, there are some specific characteristics that only the Nightingale possesses.”

“Like?”

“The birthmark, for once. It will be on the opposite side of yours—which shall form a full heart when combined,” Henrique explained. “They also have golden eyes—ones bearing the power bestowed by Goddess.”

Elliot nodded. Well, at this point, he no longer cared about understanding anything. All he had to do was consume all the information being fed to him. Whether he would come to understand or not was another business.

“Unfortunately, there is next to nothing information about the Nightingale,” Henrique said. “But, my son, you shall focus on finding them; as it is Goddess’ plan all along.”

“I... will try my best, Father,” Elliot said, though his voice did not sound convincing the least.

Henrique looked at his son’s face, closer than ever. The son whom he was proud of. The son whose fate he had known long before he was born. The son whose responsibility had been assigned even before his own conception. Though Henrique had known of Elliot’s role for the longest time, he kept quiet. Unfair, indeed, but Elliot would eventually learn—and telling him beforehand would be against Goddess’ plan. So, even with all his guilt, Henrique said, “I wish for you the best, Elliot.”

♛♢♣♡♠♛

Henrique left after a long talk with Elliot—which, instead of helping Elliot, fed more to his anxiety. Elliot, on the other hand, stayed put in the library. No, he did not look for more books and stuff like that. He had enough information for today. Instead, he let silence devoured him.

Nightingale—he wondered what Nightingale really was; who Nightingale really was. Had he ever met them? Well, how could he know? He thought, would it not be funny if Charlotte was Nightingale all along. Not that he wanted her to be; but he thought that it would be easier if she were. After all, why would Goddess put a stranger as the Nightingale? If Goddess were to make a stranger into Nightingale, there could be a possibility where their path never crossed.

Elliot flitted his gaze up to the high ceiling; his mind wandering. He was sitting in one corner of the library, where the lights were dim. He was hidden behind several bookshelves towering around him. The corner he liked; though he was not fond of libraries. At least, in that enclosed area, he could feel at ease.

He closed his eyes, exhaling as he breathed out any worries in his mind. Nightingale—he tried to imagine what they would look like. He let his imagination took over, letting the wildest figure to form in his mind.

Short black hair. Tanned neck, soft yet rough. Sunkissed cheeks; tinted red. Gleaming golden orbs; the corners creasing with a smile. Thin red lips, grinning ear to ear, framing rows of clean teeth. Nightingale reached out their hand and—

Elliot opened his eyes. The image was not one Elliot had expected—at all. A stranger, none like Elliot ever met. Elliot furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head while his hands crossed in front of his chest. Thinking hard, who was it? It was believed that the image of someone in dreams were people he had met, even for a fleeting moment. However, Elliot was sure he had never seen someone like that, and Elliot had not met a lot of people. Furthermore, it looked like someone that even his wildest dream would not even imagine.

In the end, it only made him even more confused. So, he decided to leave it for now. He got up from his chair and made his way out of the library. He needed sleep, he supposed.

♛♢♣♡♠♛

Elliot went back to his room when it was dark outside. He had been outside his bedroom for so long he did not turn on the lights. The room was blanketed in darkness, with the only source of light being the moon outside. The full moon seemed closer than ever—and would keep getting closer as the end neared.

He stepped inside the room after closing the door, still not bothering to turn on the lights. Darkness seemed to soothe him; as if pulling him away from the reality he bore. He made his way to the balcony glass door, eyes still fixated on the moon as though enchanted. He touched the door handle softly as though a fragile item, and something screamed within him.

Something is happening, something in his heart screamed. Pathways formed in the realm of his mind, and choices were spread out in front of him. Each way led to each ending, though none that Elliot could see. Bad outcome, good outcome—choices and regrets and desperations and victories. He did not know which choice led to the ending he wanted.

Though his entire guts felt heavy, his hands opened the glass door as if they had their own mind. Night breeze hit him in the face, causing him to shiver. He looked out the silent darkness, wondering why he decided to open the door.

Part of him screamed for him to close the door—that it was dangerous—yet, another half of him reassured that leaving the door open was the best decision right now.

Elliot no longer had control over his own mind, it seemed. Yet, he still decided for himself.

He left the glass door wide open, as if inviting a guest into his room.

♛♢♣♡♠♛