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Mephisto does not need to remind me. Mirrors are jinxed objects for us. The gypsy's curse on father follows all generations of Strigois. It's not that we don't see ourselves; on the contrary, it's a 4k full HD image we have. If humans have to wait for purgatory to review their sins, ours plays in mirrors, reflecting all our wrongs. The person who gazes in the mirror while we are in front finds themselves trapped. Their sins play in every mirror for the rest of their life. It's like a tag game.
As far as my opinion goes, If we Strigoi can live with it, anyone can. For instance, at the moment, mirrors like to show me reruns of my father's scattering. This malediction is one of the minor drawbacks of our capricious karma. One just has to avoid mirrors, and life goes on.
"I'm not going to see Inna, but Aurora."
"Wow, Boss, I didn't know two-timing was your thing?
My gaze travels on his anatomy, "do you like your arms, Mephisto?"
"Yes, Boss, I love them, wanna keep them, sorry, Boss. Which car, Boss?" Mephisto replies in his usual cynical tone that always makes me doubt if the boy respects me.
"I'll let you pick."
I recognize my error as I see my black 1965 Shelby ready when I go down. There's a car for every occasion, and right now I think of it the modern vehicles would be better.
"Mephisto."
"No, Boss, this will do. It clashes with your suit that's swag. Let's drive this one," he says in anticipation.
Honestly, I don't have a clue what the kid is trying to express.
Aurora works in the Felicity museum; it takes me a while to find her; she signs off documents before crossing her arms in front of a painting. In this environment, Aurora appears serene.
"Excuse me."
She turns, "oh my, Søren, how, wow, what a surprise I was thinking about you, and here you are."
Aurora does not need to say it, I am popping out of everywhere in her thoughts, and I'm beginning to ooze out the follicles of her hair.
"Really."
She gives me a bashful smile accompanied by her signature, fluttering lashes, "yes, I was thinking of getting another tattoo."
It did not take her long.
We walk and stop in front of some paintings; she takes a glance at me, a corner smile sketches on her lips just as it did in the dream, "you like art?"
"Let's say the more time passes, the more I appreciate."
Aurora sighs, "art calms me; it's quite therapeutic. I'm a sucker for modern art; Inna says I am a snob. I admit it, and I love art in all its forms. But paintings are catharsis, Expressionism, Fauvism, and suprematism. I also have a weakness for Neoclassicism. Though I studied, it's only now that I appreciate Gothic and renaissance. Here we have this new piece, let me show you," she takes me by the arm, "It's the first piece of an upcoming World Ends exhibition."
Aurora's gesture leaves a weird sensation; cells have memory. Hers tell Aurora she can hold my arm close to her bosom.
We continue to walk, and she stops in front of a large painting of two dragons, "I'm particularly fond of this painting; it's gothic. It's a private collection contribution. It's so empoweringㅡ."
"Xrosos," I can recognize the dragon of my family emblem anywhere.
"Pardon."
"The black dragon is Xrosos, and the white dragon is Tanwen, and it isn't Gothic. It's Romanesque, perhaps even medieval."
Aurora looks at me with amazement, "medieval aficionado?"
"No, of legends and myths to be precise."
She unleashes a grin, and I read a glint of interest in her stare. I pursue, "some say at the beginning of creation, there were two dragons. Others maintain Tan Wen separated her darkness from herself to create Xrosos. In certain mythology scriptures, Xrosos is the father of all mystical beings, and Tan Wen is the human species' mother. In this painting, they face each other; it's a yin and yang balance. The dragon with its metal armor scales represents the beginning and the other with the gleaming white pearl scales the end.
"Wow, you are quite impressive, Mr.ㅡ."
"Tepes, Søren Tepes, I read a lot for inspiration, tattoos sometimes need research," the lie is viable. I'm almost proud of myself.
The glint in Aurora's eyes is now a continuous shimmer, "by the end of the month; we will have the whole collection. Perhaps you will be interested in the private view?"
"I'd like that," it's difficult for me to take my eyes off the empowering painting. I have seen millions of representations of Xrosos and only a few of Tanwen. Here a form of melancholia imprisons me. All the stories of my childhood come to mind. Some Olaf of Egeskov say witchcraft is at the base of our nation, but father was formal; we Strigoi are the descendants of Xrosos. Therefore, we shall always be opposed to the children of Tan Wen.
Most Milienus are extinct. The Hawks Tan Wen's children's gardens have control of all. They hold us all on leashes. Each species fends its own if only we creatures of the umbra, as the Hawks call us, were reunited. Perhaps a proper balance could be established. The fool and utopist in me still nourish this impossible dream. Father's allocation was transparent; no reconcile is possible.
"Aurora, you are needed in the office," a small bald man in a tartan black and white three-piece suit says.
Aurora turns back to face me. She caresses the side of her neck in a compelling motion, "sorry, I would like to stay longer. Perhaps I can book with you, nowㅡ."
Mephisto's sudden appearance beside Aurora startles her. She jumps and places a hand on her chest, "oh myㅡ."
Blasé, as always, Mephisto takes out his phone, "next Tuesday, 7 PM, Is it okay?"
Aurora glances at me before replying, "eh, yeah."
"Do you have an email address so that we can send you an invitation?"
"Yes," she slips a hand in her jacket pocket and hands Mephisto a name card.
"Please accept the invitation; it will update your Google calendar. If you can't make it, please have the diligence of contacting us at least 24 hours before; thank you." Mephisto pops in his phone back in his breast pocket, steps back, places his hands behind his back, and waits for me.
An award for best PA boy would be justified if it were not for his denim attire, which looks like wolves clawed him.
Aurora turns back to me, "well, I guess I'll see you next Tuesday."
I nod, she seems to want to say something, but with Mephisto's stare upon her bothers, she struts away.
"Boss, are you okay," Mephisto asks as we go down the steps to leave.
"Yes, Mephisto, please find out who the contributor of the upcoming World End Exposition is."
Mephisto opens the door to the car, "yes, Boss, where should we go now, Boss?
"Galleria, I must see Inna is safe."
Uneasiness fills me; the painting's presence triggered something which is now in motion. The sensation of being threatened clings to my bones. The last time such a feeling invaded me, I entered the castle of Egeksov, intending to assassinate lord Dracos, my father. The painting flashes before me, and I find myself introspecting whether I freely dictate my actions or if I am a puppet on a string once more.
