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It is dark.
So very obscure.
This silence is so oppressive.
And yet, this air I breathe, this lung that fills…
I instinctively sense, at my door, hope.
It would be enough — sufficient — as long as I face despair.
This lack of hope that waits before my heart.
Still, I am ready.
It is enough that nothing stops me.
I feel it even more with each passing moment.
I am not so lost after all.
Surely this is not some kind of end.
It feels more like a prison.
And yet, how strange.
Each time I push, trying to reach the limit,
I cannot break free.
The distance dissolves each time.
Is this some kind of moving prison?
It resembles the ocean so much.
This immateriality that recalls the wind.
And yet, where I am, I already know there remains a boundary, a frontier.
Oh! What is this? A light.
Futile, tiny, fleeting — but still, a light.
I am so proud, as if I were my own father.
But now that I see the way out, I will leave.
I feel myself advancing, drawing closer, about to emerge.
When one reaches the end of darkness, is the light always so blinding?
Perhaps. But there is something more important…
…Where am I?
Look at this room: its cold floor, its shelves and books, its wall patterns.
So many things, strange motifs, and that one on the floor that looks like a map…
But surely not a map of the world.
I know it, even without specialized schooling.
So where am I really? What is this world, damn it?
At least I remain unchanged: always with the look of a wandering orphan.
…How strange. The wind blows stronger and stronger.
A breeze was born, then grew more violent.
Will a real tornado fall upon me like this?
Stranger still… What is this voice?
This whisper at my ear murmurs a request.
It asks me where the mistress is.
What does it call her? The name seems familiar.
A-Aliss? The mistress?
"I am sorry, but I do not know where the mistress is."
That is my answer, in all sincerity.
"What a ridiculous title… But it confirms you know nothing of her."
So the voice had nothing else to say?
But no matter who she is: she must be my mistress.
For she is the best way to become the best version of myself, the strongest.
I will be her disciple, assigned by destiny.
Destiny has told me and confirmed it so often that no doubt remains.
Sometimes, one must do what must be done, even if it leads to hell.
…Oh! There is movement, just behind.
The door opens. Who enters?
I hear a voice: "Who are you?"
"It is you, mistress," the words escaped me.
"But have you forgotten me so easily?"
"No matter, for it does not matter… Ah yes, the daughter of Belle."
Had she forgotten at first? Perhaps, but she quickly recovered.
"How did you get here, anyway?" She seems truly confused.
"I don't know," and indeed, it is pure truth.
Ah, she comes closer now.
She seems to scrutinize me. What is she truly seeking?
It is true I am often slightly dirty, but…
"What are these beggar's clothes?"
So that was it? "It is just me, mistress."
"Really? I don't believe it… Take this."
What is it? Clothes?
Clothes not torn.
A sleeveless fitted top, yellow if I am not mistaken.
And wide black pants with yellow stripes.
I must have good hands in fashion, no?
"This is better."
I agree, but… "So is that all?"
I almost forgot, however: "How does one become strong, Mistress Aliss?"
"Do you know this tale? Beauty and the Beast? That is basically it."
I am perplexed. "What is the true link?"
"Well, you are their daughter. The only one who survived."
Strange. "Survived?" Is this the origin of the shadow that has always haunted me?
"A strange curse… but perhaps you will find the source by reading this tale."
"So go on, prepare yourself to read as much as it takes."
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