It was the best sleep that Charlotte had had in what felt like an eternity.

When she was awakened two days later, she felt much better. Her body temperature was warm like a normal human being, there was no more coldness that ravaged her from the inside of her body. The tip of her fingers was not blue-purple anymore, and her mind was so much clearer than a few days ago.

She laid on the bed, enjoying the normalcy of her body feeling for a few minutes, she thought of Dad and Ellie. The thought turned her sorrowful. They must be worried sick by now but she was not sure when she could be discharged from this castle that now was like a hospital, or more precisely, a sanatorium to her. Immora had not come out of her body, and that meant she could not go home. She knew that, and she had to endure this for the sake of her family.

Her right hand slowly reached to her cleavage where Arran's silver necklace with its sun pendant nested in.

Arran. She sat up. It became much more real to her now.

She had a husband. The one who had married her in a last ditch effort to save her life by giving her his precious necklace, an heirloom for him, a symbol of marriage. The necklace that had balanced the influence of the immora which was still in her, giving her this chance to breathe normally and feel somewhat like herself again.

Where are you? she looked around the room.

She got down from the bed, and her legs were strong enough to walk to the window without trembling or falling down.

From the window, she feasted her eyes on the beautiful spring weather out there. The back garden was green and fresh, birds jumping around in differeny plants, she could hear their chirping from her room. She did think that the scarlet iron fence was an eyesore though.

When her legs were tired, she went and sat by the table, looking at the content of her slingbag again. She stared for a long time at her university ID card. She had earned her Ph.D and now she got stuck here in an invisible castle with people who had drunk the immortality potion, and she was married to the guard of the castle so that she did not turn into a demon. Her life was a crazy mix of reality and myths.

Sylve came to visit not long after.

The sorceress looked tired and sad, but she was glad that Charlotte felt better.

"Where is Arran, Lady Sylve?"

Sylve choked on her answer, and shook her head. "He is-is busy."

"I really want to see him again. I have to see him. He is ... he is my husband, isn't he?"

Sylve did not reply anymore. She huffed and spoke,"Immora is still in your body. You are not allowed to go home to your family. I hope you understand."

Charlotte nodded, she was not happy with the fact that she could not see her family, but she also had experienced the horror of immora, and she wanted to protect Dad and Ellie and the others from what immora could possibly do to them. Immora's evil was countered now by her necklace, Arran's necklace, but who knew what it could do still? That thought alone scared the shit out of Charlotte. She had to be strong for the sake of all that was still good in her life out there. Her life outside that scarlet fence that she had to protect, to keep intact.

What bothered her was the refusal of Sylve to tell her about Arran. Sylve was uneasy about the topic and talked about something else instead of answering her.

"I want to see Arran."

"You cannot."

"Why?"

Sylve's breath became faster like she was suppressing the urge to tell her something. The sorceress nodded to her. "Go out to the garden and enjoy the sun. It is good for you."

"I want to see Arran. Lady Sylve! Please!" Charlotte stood up and half-shouted at Sylve who did not even seem to hear her and had made her way out of her room.

Uneasiness crept into her heart more and more. Her worry about Arran gnawed on her. What is going on, Arran? Does giving me your necklace mean something bad for you? Why can't I see you?

Charlotte sighed.

Shortly after a follower of Sylve came and brought her a cotton dress and a light jacket. She tried to ask that follower what happened to Arran, but the follower did not answer. She just stood next to the door, staring straight at Charlotte without any word.

"Would you like to go to the garden, Miss?" she asked Charlotte in an almost robot-like tone.

Realizing the follower was not about to tell her about Arran, Charlotte nodded. "Yes. I want to go to the garden."

After wearing the dress and jacket that the follower brought to her, Charlotte followed the woman out of the room, still kept a hope in her heart that she might find a follower who would be willing to tell her about Arran and his whereabout.

<<<>>>

She was in awe of the castle when she went out of her room. It was a quiet place, made entirely of large rocks, the strange thing was this: Those rocks that formed the castle seemed to change shape everytime she blinked. She did think that was because this castle was invisible, it was enchanted.

Her room was one among some rooms along a hallway. The castle had a long, main hallway that had different rooms to its left and right, led to a big dining room with more hallways to its left and right. In the corner of the dining room was a curling stone stairway that went up to who knew what upstairs.

There was no decoration on the wall. Plain, bare stone walls were all there was.

The follower of Sylve walked a few steps ahead of her, and soon they met some more followers who all dressed the same as the follower that was taking Charlotte: Grey dress, and their head was covered in dark red hood which matched the color of their cape as well.

Charlotte just found it impressive. Their silence, their matching dress, the austere atmosphere that permeated the whole castle. It was almost like she was in a cloister—a strict, hermit-like cloister.

Then she saw it, hidden behind the cape of each of the followers whom she met, was a small sword. Simple, short, unassuming weapon sheathed within its scabbard hung on the belt, easily within reach of the hand when it was needed. Charlotte was impressed.

When they got to the back garden, there was a stone veranda that led to it, the follower nodded at Charlotte and left her without any word.

"This is so weird," huffed Charlotte to herself. But the sunshine, the smell of flowers that rushed to fill her nostrils made her forget the horror of her life so far and she walked further into the garden.

She immediately concluded that there was a gardener in this place. The garden was so well taken care of. There were gravel pathways that she could get onto and walk to visit different parts of the garden: The vegetables, the fruits, the flowers, the evergreen shrubs, the tall trees. The red roses were blooming a few steps from where she stood. Deep red roses and their fragrance made her stop on her track and admired them.

Whoever the gardener was, he or she must be one heck of a good one, she thought to herself. She kept walking and saw berries that had ripened. Blueberries, strawberries, blackberries. They were just there with birds flying around but none of the birds plucked the ripe berries, the plants were not even covered by a protective net. She kneeled next to the strawberries, and remembered the berries in a jute bag that got dropped on her lap by an eagle. She wanted to pluck the strawberries because they just looked so plump and red and juicy, but she cancelled. "These plants are not mine," she said to herself before standing up and walking again.

Then she saw down the pathway a small cottage made entirely of wood. A gardener's supply storage most likely, a place where he or she could also stay inside during rainstorms or just to rest.

She walked closer to the cottage, and when she saw the door was just left ajar, she decided to go inside and have a look.

It surprised her that it was not just a gardener's supply storage and temporary rest place.

Someone lived there. There was a simple bed, table, chair. All made from wood. There was a flute on the bed.

"Sorry, whoever, sorry. I will go out now," she whispered to herself and turned around to go out again, but her eyes caught something hanging next to the door.

Some jute bags with red rope.