Chapter 52: Where Paths Never Cross

  His body had been rocking gently at first as though he were a child in a cradle. Was he reborn, or was Death carrying him to the Afterlife? Perhaps it was both. But after a moment, the swaying and rocking ceased, and he was laid down on something soft. It smelt like it had been baked in the sun and spritzed with a puff of vanilla. The sweet and earthy scent of aloeswood incense drifted in after. Everything was pleasant and warm, and he melted into it. Time passed, but he hardly cared about how much.

  It did not matter. Time meant nothing after Death for their paths would never cross again.

  ***

  When Dante's eyes fluttered open, a grand white canopy stretched above him. Gold poppies embroidered into the fabric gleamed in the low light.

  Where… am I? Dante took in a deep breath, inhaling incense deeply. Something tickled at the corner of his left eye, and he lifted a heavy hand to rub it away. Leather squeaked against his skin as he drove his knuckle into it.

  Dante bolted upright. A sharp pain shot up his right arm, and he hissed, jerking his hand up instinctively. An IV line pulled taut, still embedded deep in his vein. With a grunt, Dante squeezed the line closed and grabbed the taped-down port. He winced as the adhesive tugged at his skin, then carefully extracted the needle. A thumb over the injection site stopped the trickle of blood, but it still burned.

  To rub in the fact that he was alive, there was a feeding tube shoved up his nose and down his stomach. Tracing the line from the adhesive on his nostril down to where it disappeared beneath the collar of his hospital gown, Dante reached up and carefully peeled away the tape securing it to his nose and cheek. He puffed out his cheeks and pulled.

  Tears sprang to Dante's eyes immediately. He gagged, his abs contracting with the urge to retch, but he kept pulling, hand over hand, watching the thin plastic snake its way out of his body. It was unsanitary, but he hardly cared.

  When he was done, he dropped the slicked tube onto the ground next to him.

  The Poppy Manor. I’m here in the stupid Poppy Manor.

  Dante wanted to curl up into a ball. If he curled tightly enough, maybe he could collapse under his own weight and become a black hole.

  But his legs were dead weights on the luxurious sheets.

  He had died without his arms. But somehow the Mengs, specifically Meng Haoran, had dragged him back from the light of death again. She had even given him back his arms, complete with the same scars, no doubt.

  At least fix my bloody legs, Dante thought as he dragged his ungloved hand down his face. A hollow laugh threatened to break free, but he swallowed it down. How many times now? How many different ways had he tried, only to wake up breathing again? This time had seemed different; he had slipped away. It was perfect.

  He had made the perfect sacrifice.

  Dante thought he might as well flop over and refuse to move. Wither and rot. Reject any attempts to be fed or hydrated.

  I’m tired.

  “Mm-ek! Mmmek…”

  Dante caught himself mid-flop by his elbows. He turned in the direction of the cat noises and saw a ball of black fluff stirring.

  “Nova?”

  The sharp amber eyes immediately flicked in his direction. For a split second, Dante’s mind drifted to another set of amber eyes. His chest squeezed, and he had to inhale deeply to dispel his thoughts. Don’t overthink it.

  Nova immediately leapt towards him. In its haste, it underestimated the distance between the couch and the bed, smacking headfirst into the side of the bed with a loud thomp.

  The uneasiness faded. Dante sighed. Overestimated its athletic prowess, as usual.

  “Oh, Nova…”

  Undeterred, Nova clawed its way back up, furious tinkles of the bell on its collar reflecting its efforts. It greeted Dante with a series of squeaky meows. With his free hand, Dante tried to pet it, but was quickly dismissed with a smack of its paw. Its meows grew louder and sharper as though it was purposefully yelling in his ear, admonishing him for leaving it alone at home for far too long. Halfway through its lecture, it chomped down hard on his nose. Dante hissed and gently pried its fishy jaws of death apart with a finger.

  "Am I not injured enough?" Dante muttered as he nursed his nose.

  “Mrow!” Nova settled down so that it hugged his head with its legs and body. Its rough tongue started scraping against the side of his face as it licked it hard, occasionally nuzzling its wet nose against the sensitive skin. When he tried to protest softly, Nova strategically placed one of its front paws on his mouth and teased the tips of its claws against his skin as a warning. When it was content with its handiwork, the hair on one side of his head was covered with slobber.

  Dante exhaled through his nose and sat up. His stomach growled so loudly that the sound startled him. Nova landed on his lap. Its paws began kneading his stomach, like it could knead the hunger right out of it. It seemed like starving himself would not work either. Someone would force-feed him. Shove the feeding tube down his throat again if they had to. Whoever begged for the Mengs to resurrect him would not let him starve in their guest bed.

  Dante knew who that beggar was.

  His stomach growled again, and this time it pinched his eyes shut. His stomach felt like it was going to eat itself at this rate. Nova kneaded harder, purring loudly.

  Whatever they had fed him was only enough to keep him from dying, not satiate his appetite.

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  “Yeah, yeah,” Dante muttered, scratching behind its ears. “I get it.”

  Dante surveyed the room and spotted a wheelchair sitting by the door. There was a jade talisman hanging on one of the handles. Judging by the slight glow, it had been Imbued. “Scarlet.” He brought his ring to his lips. “Get me that wheelchair.”

  Instead of turning on him, it obeyed. Dante's shoulders slumped, half expecting it to have changed allegiance, just like it had when it released Faust from its grasp.

  Dante thought he remembered how to get into a wheelchair properly. Instead, the world crashed down on him. The skin of his arms and body screamed as they were scraped raw. His IV site split open, and blood seeped into the crease of his elbow.

  He would have lain still and picked himself up, but he hurled his feeble strength at the wheelchair instead. It crashed against the wall, toppling over with the jade talisman that shattered with a clang. He doubled over, gasping and tearing at his shirt as a stab of pain pierced through his sternum.

  He would have directed his fists at himself if not for the pain, but he could only paw at his tear-stricken face.

  He would have screamed his lungs out, but he let out a noise that bordered on a strangled whimper.

  In this humiliating state he was in, he would have been better off dead.

  “Dante!”

  The beggar was here.

  “Go—” Dante coughed, twisting his body away. Strings of saliva dribbled down his chin as his jaw hung loose. “--AWAY!”

  Dante’s stomach lurched as Felix collared him like a feisty kitten, despite being a tad taller than him. His butt crashed onto the wheelchair, which Felix had propped upright without him noticing. When Felix knelt, Dante decided to go for the eyes.

  “Stop this!” Felix seized his arms by the wrists. His grip was firm, but did not cause any pain. “You're extremely weak! Please stop overexerting yourself!”

  “You should have…” Whatever fight Dante had was quickly slipping away. He could hardly manage a whisper. “...let me die…”

  Felix's face twisted inscrutably. He let go, but Dante slapped back with what he had. The hardest hit he could manage bounced off Felix's chest with a soft ‘pap’. “Do you feel it?” Dante huffed as his hand landed uselessly by his side. “My Essence?”

  “First Lady Meng said that this would be temporary—”

  A growl interrupted Felix, but it did not come from Dante’s throat; it came from his own stomach.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Dante’s stomach twisted painfully once more, demanding sustenance, and the admission sat bitter on his tongue.

  “...Yes,” he finally said, the word barely audible.

  ***

  There was enough food for one person who was starving. A bowl of white rice drenched in silky brown gravy, topped with button mushrooms, egg whites, minced meat, spring onion and tofu bits, accompanied by a bowl of lotus root soup. The light aroma coupled with the slight saltiness of smooth gravy swirled atop Dante’s tongue as he chewed slowly. When the rice became too sticky, he washed it down with a spoonful of soup that had a slight earthy flavour.

  It was what Dante had been craving, and the staff of the manor had prepared it so promptly that he could not help but feel impressed. They even prepared a dried fish stick for Nova, which it chewed merrily in his lap.

  Dante stared at the slice of lotus root submerged in the soup, studying the holes in it. He closed his eyes and sighed when he caught a glimpse of the slight reflection of Felix standing behind him.

  “When?” The question rolled off Dante's tongue before he could catch it. What the hell am I doing?

  “Could you live without that knowledge, just like everyone else?”

  Why am I asking? Dante thought, disgusted by his own curiosity. Ace's nosiness must have rubbed off on me.

  "I suppose," answered Dante after a beat. Their paths would never cross once the contract was over. He had little energy to feel and even less to prolong the conversation.

  Dante ate the rest of his food in silence, and when he finished, he found the strength to wheel himself.

  Dante turned to meet Felix’s eyes, which were staring at the handle of his wheelchair, where a new jade talisman swung slightly whenever there was a movement.

  “E-Everyone has one,” Felix said quickly. He fished out another four Imbued jade talismans from his pockets. “Gotta find them somehow.”

  The Poppy Manor – the manor where paths never crossed – required all outsiders to carry an Imbued jade talisman to be granted permission to navigate the compounds. Those who tried to break in would never find themselves within the manor and would be subject to an eternity of wandering within the catacombs under the manor. Those within would unconsciously take different paths, never intersecting even if they left the same room at the same time. Only those with complementary jade pieces could find the other holding the corresponding piece that completed the pictures.

  Felix shuffled the toe of his boot, staring at the ground. Dante held his silence. There was no reason to lash out at him for using jade talismans to locate him.

  “You were out for almost two weeks,” Felix went on cautiously. “As for your legs, Dr. Lee said that you had to be awake and stronger before he could start treatment. He had a condition to bring along an assistant who could not be subject to memory erasure...”

  Dante’s blood froze. “Who?”

  “Jeremiah Seah. But don’t worry, there’s a good reason why I approved his presence. He also helped to change your clothes and wipe you do—”

  “So just because you decide something’s right, it is?” Dante clenched the wheelchair's armrest before he forced himself to let go, a tightness spreading across his chest. His skin crawled as he imagined the assistant’s eyes and hands on his body, so much so that he had to hold himself to stop the feeling from spiralling. “Your judgement… is the reason why I had to learn how to use a wheelchair in the first place!”

  “Dr. Lee’s the only one who knows how to treat you. First Lady Meng exhausted herself to regenerate your arms.” Felix’s imploring only irked Dante further. Dante seized the wheelchair’s handrims and reversed abruptly, trying to get away from Felix as quickly as he could, but was quickly halted. Felix stared down at him, both of his hands on the armrests to stop him from advancing. Nova mewed softly and dug its claws into Dante’s thighs.

  “I know I'm a pain in your ass. I could get out of your sight to get back to the students’ sides if you just let Dr. Lee and Jeremiah treat you,” Felix said, almost shaking the wheelchair. “But I can’t! You’re the only one who hasn’t recovered! Am I not as worried for the students as much as I am for you?!”

  Felix's voice cracked slightly. He averted his gaze, staring at his shoes. “Over the past two weeks, they have been counselled.” For a moment, he sounded as though he had aged thirty years. “Dr. Farid left the truth about Reality Shifts to me. I'm supposed to try and give them some sense of 'normalcy' by giving them the same lesson we had.” He paused to gulp. “But they are not us, Dante. They don't have to do this whole Shift thingy, you know? This burden will be ours and ours only.”

  Who said I would shoulder it with you? Dante had wanted to say, but Ace crossed his mind, so he kept his mouth shut.

  “So please,” Felix's voice cracked again as he pleaded. "Just let me help. Let me get you the help you need."

  Dante let go of the handrims and sighed. He slid his hands under Nova’s body and hugged it close to him. “Whatever,” he said in a resigned voice. “I’m tired, and I don’t want to waste my breath arguing with you.”

  Dante swore that a glint crossed Felix’s eyes as he stepped behind him to push him forward. He was not his usual chatty self, which made it obvious that the fallout was far worse than he had thought.

  Whatever, I’m tired. I don’t care.