I smoke, even though I haven’t tasted smoke for a long time. It is now more of a habit, the only thing that gives me the illusion of humanity, even though those kinds of human substances don’t really have an effect on me…
Which is a pity, because it means I cannot forget all this, not for a moment.
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The bridge I stand on is old and the railing is covered with rust. This one bridge has seen more than most people. My hands touch the cold railing like the chill of the night.
I looked at the dark water surface, which rippled gently. My reflection looked back at me.
But was this pale, skinny man with dark circles under his eyes, silver hair, dressed in a long, old, black coat and lacking in zest for life, still me?
The city lights, so fake and blinding, reflected in my gray eyes as I sighed.
I breathed in again and the smoke burned in my throat before I exhaled. The smoke danced around me like a curtain. Mixed with the smell of smog and the wet earth after the last rain.
The world used to be simpler, the air cleaner, the people friendlier, and me?
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Back then, I believed I had a purpose.
That people needed me…
Every moment like this reminds me what an idiot I was.
But now, standing on this bridge, everything seems merely an echo of those days. A truly lame joke by the gods. A lost child of the light. A light that has long since gone out. A child of a goddess whose name no one remembers anymore.
I looked at the cigarette burning between my fingers. The red flame at the end reminded me of memories. The smoke, their end.
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Sometimes I think that being who I am is a curse, not a blessing.
“Thank you, Mother, for this cursed form, neither human nor divine.”
I knew that my words contained malice and contempt for the goddess of light… But if she hadn’t fallen in love with that man… Oh well, what’s done is done… or something like that. Although sometimes I wished I could turn back time and never let that moment happen… because living for nearly three hundred years isn’t as great as many people think.
It doesn’t make you any wiser, and years of experience don’t make your life any easier.
So, eternal life is just hell, that’s all. And no one and nothing will change my mind about this… period.
I took one last drag of my cigarette and threw it into the river.
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When I turned my gaze away from the water, I saw her. Under a lamppost. She was alone. A woman with dark skin and a face full of freckles. Her black, wavy hair gleamed in the light. Her ruby-red eyes were filled with sorrow, a sorrow that didn’t quite fit her age… at least, not the age she looked… twenty-seven at most… The woman cast a glance at me, but quickly averted her gaze.
And I took a step forward. I didn’t know why. Perhaps I still felt pity after all those centuries. Or was it because she reminded me of her?
God, was this a reminder of my sins from the past? Or just a ridiculous coincidence?
As soon as I approached her, I was immediately overwhelmed by the sweet scent of sulfur, perhaps mixed with lavender, but I wasn’t sure.
But that smell of sulfur, which had been so familiar to me for so long, made me understand. This woman was a demon… at least, there was something demonic about her. A creature born in the flames of hell. A creature that had been my enemy in antiquity. But when humans made a pact, demons became the norm in the city streets. Although people still treat them differently from their own kind, which I find quite funny. You enter into agreements that, in theory, should ensure that two species live together in peace and equality, but in practice, they despise each other and view each other as evil that must be eradicated.
Regardless of the perspective from which you view it.
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I paused for a moment and looked at the woman for another moment. Then I took another cigarette and a lighter from my jacket pocket. All the while, I felt her gaze on my back.
I was busy lighting the cigarette, leaning against the cool railing, when the woman came up to me.
Alone, without a word from my side or hers.
She swung her legs over the railing, sat down on them, and stared listlessly and wearily into the water. “You know, sometimes I get completely tired of this,” she whispered. I raised an eyebrow, surprised that she was saying anything at all. I wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation, but something told me that this was exactly what this woman wanted.
Maybe a few words that would change her mind. That she, at the very least, shouldn’t be thinking about jumping off this bridge into the dark, cold water below. Just like I have been thinking for the past fifty years.
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You know? I don’t know what you have in mind, but this isn’t the solution. But if this is what you want… then I won’t stop you.”
…
Yes, small talk or words that can bring a little light into someone’s life are probably not my talent.
Which is no joke; I, a child of the light, have long forgotten how to warm others with that light.
But why am I surprised when I can’t even get my own life in order?
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The woman just looked up at me. She was silent for a moment, and I saw her grip the sleeve of her bright pastel blue sweater tighter. A sweater that was at least two sizes too big for her, as if she wanted to pretend to be an ordinary person, following trends and fashion she didn’t really understand. Not that I understood them, so I won’t judge…
But then I saw it. What looked like old bruises on her wrist. The woman must have seen my gaze, because she quickly pulled the sleeve of her sweater further down until the fabric covered her hands.
“It’s nothing,” she answered quickly, too quickly. Which only tells me that she is lying, and that she has said those few words to people before. But I wasn’t planning on ignoring that fact like most people do, because she is half demon.
“Someone hurt you, didn’t they?” The words sounded a little harsher than I intended. The light from a nearby streetlamp flickered intensely.
The woman sighed and then nodded slowly in agreement.
“Adara. That is my name,” she whispered softly.
…
Adara
The name was soft, beautiful, and sounded familiar…
too familiar…
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I had no idea if it was because of the woman herself and the fact that someone had done something to her, or because she looked so much like my lover from ages ago.
Either way, I would listen to her story now, and who knows? Maybe I can help someone. And maybe then I’ll feel a little better about this boring existence.
ns216.73.216.69da2
and then Add to home screen.