They stood facing each other in all awkwardness for a moment. Two strangers, bound by a necklace that they both needed to survive the claws of evil that threatened to pull them both into eternal hell and darkness.

"There is one more thing I want to ask you," Charlotte opened her mouth.

"What is it, Charlotte?"

Charlotte took a deep breath and walked to the door. There, her hands took the jute bag with red rope and brought it back to Arran.

"An eagle dropped off a bag just like this on my lap few days ago. A jute bag filled with berries. Delicious berries ..." she paused, and continued,"Do you know anything about it? An eagle, berries, jute bag?"

Arran turned red, his mouth opened like he was trying to explain something but nothing came out.

Charlotte was not sure why, but she smiled."Arran?"

Arran nodded. "I picked those berries for you indeed, I was going to give those to you before I-I doubted and decided that was not a good idea. Then an eagle, this eagle with a tuft of reddish feather right on top of its head, snatched the bag from my hand and gave it to you anyway."

"That-that is the same eagle that led me to you earlier. An eagle with a tuft of reddish feather right on top of its head. So strange—" Charlotte's mind went back to the eagle again, before saying,"Anyway, the berries were superb. Thank you, Arran."

Arran nodded, and he decided to come clean about the fact that he had been watching her from the forest, watching her singing and dancing."I am sorry ... I-I do not mean to be rude," Arran sheepishly admitted.

"Rude? No, I just wish you could just come and talk to me. I did feel like I was being watched."

"I am sorry."

"You saw me dancing and singing to Emily with my clown nose?"

"That red thing on your nose?"

"Yes. This ..." Charlotte walked to the table, got the clown nose out of her slingbag, and proudly waved it to Arran.

Arran took it and flipped it a few times in his hand, seriously examining it. "Interesting. Why did you use this? Your nose is fine the way it is."

At that Charlotte laughed. Her first laugh in days. "Sometimes I am a clown, Arran. A clown wears a red clown nose like this. This-this character only purpose is to entertain children in parties."

"You seem to be good at it. Entertaining a child. I saw how happy that little girl was. Dancing and singing with you."

"That's not all I do. I also have a Ph.D."

"What is that?" a genuine confusion on Arran's eyes.

Charlotte nodded. "Let's have tea, or water. We will sit and I will explain to you what it is."

Arran grew less bashful and nodded. He showed Charlotte his small kitchen and they ended up sitting across from each other drinking a warm tea that was made from some herbs he had found in the forest, dried, and tested the taste over the years.

It was the best herbal tea that Charlotte had ever tasted. Warm, fragrant, and light on her palate.

Then Charlotte told Arran about herself, her work, her plans if she did not have immora within her.

Arran was a good listener. He focused on Charlotte, asked genuine questions that made Charlotte realize more and more that they had indeed come from such different worlds.

As the day wore on and the night crawled closer, Arran grew more and more pale and tired. A few times he would stare blankly outside the window and shook his head a few times like he was trying to chase away some intrusive thoughts.

Charlotte caught a glimpse of the flute that was on the bed. "You play flute, Arran?" she asked tenderly when she saw Arrn shake his head a few times again. She had to help Arran to withstand the influence of Rogh.

Arran's lips trembled, and his breathing became more laborious. "Yes. I-I did play-play it," then he shook his head,"But no more. I played it a lot in the past to drown the voice of Rogh in my head, calling me to him. But now-now he is growing stronger, the flute cannot drown his voice inside my head anymore—"

Charlotte went and grabbed the flute, and put it in front of Arran."Play it, Arran. Try. Play a song for me. I would love to hear it."

Arran tried to breathe properly, but he could not. His breathing was still shallow and fast. His hands gripped the side of the table, and he bowed his head. "I cannot, Charlotte. At night like this, his voice grows louder, clearer. He keeps calling me. He keeps telling me I will be a demon like him too. Like father like son, he always says."

"Lie! It's a lie! You will not be a demon like him! Arran, hold on. Here, use the necklace!" Charlotte rushed to take off her necklace but before she could do it, Arran caught her hand and shook his head hard. "No! No. Keep it around your neck!"

Charlotte wanted to cry when she saw Arran's struggle to withstand Rogh's demonic whisper within his mind. Arran tightened his grip of her hand, his blue eyes gazed into hers, and he whispered a plea,"Please keep it around your neck. Please, Charlotte."

"It is not fair for me to wear it while you struggle so much without it. Arran, tell me why. Why you did all these sacrifice for me? A stranger?" She tried to sound brave, to sound like she was strong enough to face this ordeal. But she failed, her voice came out trembling.

Arran was quiet while bowing his head facing the table like he was processing Charlotte's question, then his eyes darted from the table to her, his right hand flailed and Charlotte caught it, wrapped it within her own right palm. Arran pressed his hand against hers and spoke,"Rogh has grown stronger, and when he grows stronger, the darkness in my soul increases more and more. I find it more and more difficult to find the beauty in spring, in things of this earth. The mesmerizing colour of spring begins to get dull in my eyes—"

Charlotte nodded.

Arran continued,"I sneaked out of the scarlet fence to roam around the villages, the forest ... to remind me of humanity. Of life. But it got harder and harder to stay in the light when the colour you saw around you just-just faded. Until that day ... I saw you playing with the little girl, with your red nose ..." Arran trembled,"And I know light has returned to my life. Even for just a moment, I felt it. The warmth of light. Happiness. For a moment, a brief moment, I felt that I was not the untouchable, the taboo, the half-demon being."

"Oh Arran ..." she whispered, her heart pounded, a part of her felt a certain relief, a certain happiness that Arran felt that way toward her.

"And when you find light, a light that has helped you find your way in your own dark alleys, you know you will do all you can to make sure that the light stays shining, that the light will not be extinguished by any demon."

Arran shivered, and he stood up, staggered to the window. There he stood, holding on to the window pane and stared at the night that had fallen outside.

Charlotte stood up and nodded to herself."We will share the necklace, Arran. Today I wear it. Tomorrow is your turn." She walked closer to Arran and stood behind him, waiting for an answer.

"Charlotte, I do not think—" he shook his head, bowed it slightly.

"No, Arran. I cannot take this necklace if it means your humanity is in danger. I cannot bear to lose you ... not in that way ... not in any way," she whispered and she could hear each of her word was tinted by her fear of losing Arran. She did not understand how and why, but she knew she did not want to lose him.

Arran groaned, lifted his palms to cover his ears. "Stop, Rogh! Stop whispering!" he pleaded.

Charlotte saw it all, and she walked even closer, hesitated for a bit, before going ahead, sneaking her arms in one gentle movement around Arran's waist and hugged him from behind.

Arran's body startled when she hugged him, but he relaxed soon enough, hesitated, then clasped his hands on Charlotte's hands on his stomach.

"You cannot bear to lose me ..." Arran repeated in a half-whisper like he was trying to convince himself that that was indeed what he had just heard, his hands tightened around Charlotte's.

Charlotte let her forehead touch Arran's back to let him know she was nodding, her fear gnawed her, but Arran's body felt so warm, the ripples of his muscle and the sturdiness of his tall body helped her feel safe, and stirred something within her—something warm, comfortable, and left her feeling the tingle that went from the tip of her toes to her whole body.

She pressed her body closer to Arran, rested her head on his back.

"Do you have your knife with you?"

Charlotte shook her head. "It's-it's on the table."

Arran turned, gently grabbed her waist, and looked at her in all seriousness. "I will give you a belt. A weapon belt with a small scabbard on it. You can use it. Have the knife with you all the time. If Rogh gets to me, I will not remember who you are, I will not hesitate, not for one bit, to kill you. And at that time I can kill you easily. Charlotte, do you hear me?" Arran was going to let her go to get his belt but Charlotte pulled him even closer, tiptoed to reach his face, and cupped his jaws with her palms. "I hear you, Arran."

Arran nodded. Charlotte tried to smile, and she did smile. A thin, gentle smile that seemed to bring Arran some solace. He caressed her cheek in careful, delicate strokes as if he was worried he was too rough to be given a chance to touch such a tender beauty.

That night, they sat next to each other on the wood floor, Charlotte fell asleep, resting her head on Arran's shoulder, and she slept with the knife in a little scabbard hanging on a belt around her waist.