Snake Charmer's Curse

Chapter 2: Lady Fate

“Right away, Master Garter,” said the driver as he ignited the engine and adjusted his hat, still alarmed and trying to calm his racing heart.

It was a thirty-five-minute drive of complete silence. Aspis was lost in his thoughts, only staring out the window with his hand still firmly pressed against his chest. For some strange reason, he could smell Faith’s unique fragrance, the woman who had now unknowingly disrupted his once peaceful existence. It was sweet, potent and for the life of him, he could still not remember the plant’s name.

Stuart stole a few concerned glances at his employer through the rear-view mirror. This was the first time he had seen Aspis in such a state. The large man appeared pale, and beads of sweat formed on his melancholic face. Is he having a heart attack? Is it something the master ate? Stuart wanted to ask if everything was alright and if there was anything he could do to help, but he refrained from prying, for Aspis was infamously known to be a man who kept to himself, no matter the situation.

As time passed, Aspis’ appearance seemed to worsen. Stuart could no longer keep it to himself and asked with the utmost care, “My lord, are you alright? Do you need me to ask William to call for a doctor?”

Aspis gave a bleak smile. He appreciated Stuart’s concern. His employees always looked out for him, even though they were unaware of how much he valued them. “I am alright, Stuart; it is just heartburn causing me discomfort that caught me by surprise. I have an old family remedy for this little problem,” he reassured.

“Understood, sir,” he said emotionlessly, but mentally sighed with relief and continued to focus on the road.

Upon arriving at the mansion, Aspis marched directly to his room. He did not bother to greet his servants waiting by the door. He needed to take a hot shower, in the hope that whatever emotions his mood was tainted with would be effortlessly washed away. He slammed the door upon entering, and the first thing he did was open the faucet and carefully undress while staring at himself in the mirror.

Aspis is a tall, large-built man, who looks to be in his mid-fifties. His once-chiseled muscles now exhibit soft parts of pillowed flesh, evident that he was a man who trained hard in his youth but has stopped in recent years.

He has long, piercing forest-green eyes, low-straight medium-shaped eyebrows, and thick black and silver shoulder-length hair. His square-shaped face and strong jawline are accompanied by a royal beard-shaped stubble framing his cupid bow lips. He stared unhappily at his bare chest, still massaging it over his racing heart, then proceeded to his oversized walk-in rain shower.

The water pouring down upon him provided a therapeutic sensation. Aspis was able to momentarily clear his troubled mind. He silently looked at the glass before him, displaying a never-ending cycle of accumulating water droplets growing large and then elegantly gliding toward gravity’s pull.

“Dewdrops,” he bitterly laughed to himself. “Out of all the things to say...” Aspis leaned against the wall and allowed his emotions to take hold and run away with him.

Twenty minutes later, he lazily exited his bathroom. Not expecting any company, he changed into comfortable attire, all covered in a thick maroon robe. Its tie was snugly wrapped around his waist, retaining the warmth from the shower. He retreated to his favourite place, a private lounge, where he never allowed guests or outsiders, except for his butler or occasional servant.

Sinking into his comfortable antique leather wingback chair, he sighed with relief, then observed his surroundings. He appreciated the heavy, ancient curtains that blocked out all light from the sunny day outside. Only a dimly lit oil lamp provided a warm glow to illuminate the area. This was how he felt and how he liked it: dark, gloomy, and alone.

Aspis carefully prepared his pipe while frowning due to a low-pressure headache that was rapidly making its presence known. He drew short breaths to ignite the tobacco, then contentedly breathed in deeply while staring into a black abyss as his thoughts were running through his mind.

“She is dead! Her soul is forevermore resting in its realm... The notion of believing a ghost can be reborn is pitiful mortal hope! A whimsical mental mechanism, only to comfort those with grieving hearts. But I, I know better than to even consider it a possibility!” Aspis hissed with utmost poison and resentment.

Then Faith’s charming voice and words resounded in his mind once more and his head now throbbing. “Why am I being punished so? After all these years alone, why am I the one being tormented once more by her memory? Then the melody, that blasted fated melody! It’s impossible... I can’t, not again! I do not deserve lo—”

A strong breeze swept through the room from a nearby window. Aspis looked toward it and realized there was an approaching storm. The wind picked up at a frightening speed, causing the weighty curtains to flap violently, revealing flashes of lightning and dimming sunlight. Suddenly, he heard the sound of pages flipping next to him. He turned only to see his book had come to a stop at a particular passage. Recognizing it, he eagerly grabbed the book to read it, as low rumbles of thunder began to sound.

Andersen stood by his weeping sister; his heart ached for her, but then an unnatural whiff of wisdom entered his mind. “At times, my dear sister, things happen for a reason, though you may perceive it as being a blessing or a curse. It is up to you how you uphold your humanity in such situations.”

Esmeralda seized her brother’s sleeve and cried bitterly in his bosom, “But brother, he was my true love, whom I had lost so young. I am alone now!”

Anderson tenderly stroked the back of his sister’s head. He took a deep breath as he carefully considered his words. “Sweet sister, Raphael’s ailment was not something that could be cured. He would have suffered for the rest of his life, and you would be in continuous pain seeing his agony. Now he is free and in a better place. See it as grace on both your parts and do not let this hinder your future happiness. Take this period to grieve, and I shall grieve with you, but please, when a new opportunity arrives to gift you with happiness, never ignore it, for Raphael would wish the same for you.”

“How will I know when that time comes, brother?” Esmeralda asked as she looked up at Anderson with her large, heartbreaking, puffy grey eyes.

“Fate has her way of revealing it to you in such a manner only you will understand, dear sister. There’s no such thing as a coincidence when it comes to Lady Fate.”

Aspis slammed the book shut as lightning crackled close to his empty mansion. “William!” he bellowed.

“Yes, Master Garter?” sounded the voice of his devoted butler from the darkness.

“A great storm is approaching. Let everyone know to make sure all windows and curtains are shut,” Aspis commanded sternly.

“Of course, my lord,” said the tall, poised man with his head bowed, then departed as swiftly as he came.

Aspis stared in the distance as the rest of the building gradually darkened. The clatter of shoes on the polished wooden floors and the clacking of windows echoed through the vast space as the servants carried out their instructions.

Aspis pondered deeply, drew from his pipe, and muttered as the smoke left his lips, “Hope, Love and... Faith–” Suddenly, it came to him what it was he tried to put a name to, ever since he encountered Faith.

“Yesterday, Today, and—,” his words became almost a whisper, as he believed he solved the underlying riddle the universe had given him. “Tomorrow... My Gods, what are you bestowing upon this lowly servant?” he murmured to himself, then inhaled a long breath from his pipe. Its embers crackled eerily whilst it glowed a dangerous crimson, highlighting his bullish face and brown-green, calculating eyes.