Chapter 763
How I Fell In Love With Him
When Alistair woke again, she found herself in a familiar yet strange place. It was familiar because Eivass had often visited here, but strange because Alistair had never been here before. This was none other than “Morgan’s Wonderful Dream House,” a gift from Morgan to Eivass.
Upon opening her eyes, Alistair saw Isabel sitting by the bed, looking at her with a hint of surprise. Eivass had shown Isabel both of his forms before departing for the Church. This was why Isabel had paid no mind to the scandalous news about Eivass and “Alistair.” Consequently, Isabel immediately recognized Alistair’s identity.
“Why did you take so long to come… You haven’t visited me in a dream for so many days. More than half of tonight has passed, and you’ve only just arrived…” Isabel complained softly, reaching out to curiously stroke Alistair’s jet-black hair, which was as soft and clean as a wig. She then added with concern, “You weren’t drunk, were you? It’s important for a girl to be safe when she’s out alone.”
“…I didn’t actually drink anything.” Alistair subconsciously lifted her head and nuzzled into Isabel’s palm, unaware of her own affectionate gesture, much like how one instinctively ducks upon approaching a low doorway. She defended herself, “I was researching a mysterious item related to a Heavenly Envoy… I might have been put into a coma by it. But there’s no need to worry; I had someone to protect me.”
It was then that Alistair suddenly realized something, “Do you wait for me here every night?”
The price of admission to Morgan’s Wonderful Dream House was a drink before sleep. Alistair had likely entered this place after falling unconscious because, upon contact with that strange liver, she had suddenly become intoxicated. A potent drunkenness had flooded Alistair’s heart through that contact, and she was likely in a deep sleep now.
Suddenly, Alistair felt Isabel’s touch on her hair change into a slightly firmer massage. She obediently made a pained sound, “Ouch, ouch, ouch…”
“You have the time to research such things, yet you don’t come to see me.” Isabel murmured, massaging Alistair’s temples with a hint of wistfulness. “I have a mountain of things to tell you… To avoid forgetting them in my excitement when I see you, I’ve been organizing my thoughts every night after a drink. And now, what I’ve piled up has already filled several pages…”
“Wuuu…” Alistair felt a pang of guilt, unsure how to explain. She could only emit pained sounds, hoping that Her Majesty the Queen would be appeased.
But Isabel couldn’t bring herself to press down hard on Alistair’s head. Although Alistair might not have realized it, Isabel, a follower of The Path of Beauty, could clearly perceive that Alistair was a part of Eivass, much like a person and their reflection in a lake.
“…What should I call you?” Isabel softly asked. “Should I still call you Eivass?”
“I am… Alistair. Alistair Crowley.” Alistair stopped her not-so-convincing act of feigned pain and, after a moment of silence, finally gave her name. That hesitant moment was when she questioned whether she was still Eivass. But ultimately, Alistair made a decision: regardless of whether she was Eivass or not, she didn’t want to be a substitute for Eivass in Isabel’s eyes. It would be unfair to both Isabel and Eivass. After all, she was merely a fleeting illusion, fuel thrown into the fire… nothing more.
If Isabel were to develop feelings for her, it might cause her sadness upon parting. Even after several months of caring for a pet, one would feel grief upon its death. How much more so for a living person with whom one shared deep emotions. And given Isabel’s personality, her sorrow would likely be even more uncontrollable. It was enough for only Eivass to remember her and yearn for her. Alistair thought to herself.
Looking back, perhaps this was the underlying motive behind Alistair’s instinctive avoidance of meeting Isabel. In this World, sleep was a perfectly reasonable need. While most Extraordinary individuals did not have a strict requirement for sleep, everyone needed to access the Dream Realm through “sleep.” After all, as everyone knew, it was difficult to dream when one wasn’t asleep.
Hearing this, Isabel merely smiled mysteriously. To Alistair’s surprise, she couldn’t decipher the meaning behind Isabel’s smile, which unsettled her slightly. Isabel climbed onto the bed, and Alistair instinctively flinched back. But she was quickly pulled back by Isabel, who hugged her from behind.
Feeling the warmth emanating from behind, Alistair felt a shiver crawl up her neck. Yet, simultaneously, she also felt a sense of attachment and familiar intimacy. The moment Alistair caught Isabel’s scent, her abdomen and tense calves slowly relaxed. Although her upper body still struggled somewhat, she seemed to have lost all strength to resist. *I’m supposed to be a clone of The Transcendent Path, so why…* This thought flashed through Alistair’s mind.
“Why are you so nervous?” Isabel whispered into Alistair’s ear. “Aren’t you a girl? Isn’t it normal for girls to hug each other? …Or do you still think of yourself as Eivass? But if you were Eivass, why would you be afraid to approach me?”
“I…” Alistair was momentarily speechless. But Isabel’s direct words revealed her inner thoughts: “Are you worried… that developing feelings for me will hinder your fusion? Are you concerned that I will be sad about your departure?”
“…That is indeed the case.” Alistair replied calmly after a long silence. “I am, after all, just an illusion, fleeting. No one can remember me, and my only purpose is to help Eivass ascend to a higher position.”
“I am not a part of Eivass—because he can still be Eivass even without me. He possesses Eivass’s appearance, Eivass’s personality, Eivass’s memories, and everything. My appearance is false, my identity fabricated. Even this face is just a substitute for someone else’s, and I don’t even know her full name.”
“Therefore, you don’t need to interact with me too much, and I likely won’t be interacting with you many more times. You don’t need to drink every day; it’s not good for your health. We could space out our meetings… perhaps once every half a month or a month? For handling important matters only, I believe that would be sufficient.”
“We can actually be more business-like—you tell me what needs to be handled, and if I can help, I’ll think about it. As for truly important matters, I’ll still have to relay them to Eivass… After all, my thinking is too far beyond, and many of my strategies might end up harming you and Avalon…” Alistair closed her eyes and suddenly blurted out a jumbled, convoluted explanation.
Isabel, however, merely tilted her head and responded with half a sentence: “What are you afraid of?”
In an instant, Alistair fell silent. She lay there quietly, as if asleep. The perception of the human heart through The Path of Beauty was far stronger in the Dream Realm than in the Material Realm. Here, there was no confusion of acting and expressions, no room for “lies.” When Isabel’s body made contact with Alistair’s, Isabel could read all of Alistair’s emotions. Emotions speak, just as in a perfect opera, one can grasp the story even without understanding the language; a highly emotive actor can convey his heart without being understood.
At this moment, Isabel felt intense loneliness and panic. Alistair should have been incredibly powerful, as she was the Transcendent half of Eivass. This meant she could also summon that powerful Phantom Demon, a demon capable of easily killing an Upper Demon of the Fifth Tier. Even if she wasn’t entirely invincible in this World, she should have had few rivals. Yet, in stark contrast… Alistair’s inner self was incredibly fragile. This was different from the Eivass in Isabel’s memory.
“Since you say you’re not Eivass… can you listen to a story?” Isabel suddenly murmured behind Alistair. “About… how I fell in love with Eivass.”
Alistair’s body trembled subconsciously for a moment. Without waiting for a response, Isabel began, “In the beginning, in my memory… Eivass was always steady, wise, knowledgeable, and trustworthy. His soul was bright, his heart clear, never flustered, fearful, enraged, or provoked. It was as if all base words could not apply to him… That demeanor was less like a mortal and more like a god—a god to be revered from a distance.”
(End of Chapter)
