Chapter 3: Chapter 3: With Age Comes Experience

On the verge of screaming and thrashing around in sorrow, Briar Solentine kept his body still as he lay on his bed in silence—ignoring the pounding of his heart and the sound of the carriage that took Icarus away. No tears would fall from his eyes as he already cried them all out last night after receiving Icarus’ harsh words. It came as a shock, however, when he learned that the boy he loved wanted to see him before leaving. But instead of happiness… Briar’s sadness carved a hole deep into his soul and cemented itself there.

Why would he want to see me? To say that he was finally leaving me behind for good? Weren’t his words enough yesterday?

Eyeing the bandage wrapped around his hand, Briar exhaled aloud as he sat upon the mattress. He had no time to be depressed, for he would turn twenty a few months from now. Torn between living and dying, Briar couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at his current predicament.

Icarus has left him and rejected the love he held for so long. Crossing him out as a partner for life. He did not want to impose on the man who did not love him any further. It would be too unbearable and embarrassing. However, if Briar had to choose between marrying someone he loves and someone who loves him… He would rather die than be in a loveless marriage.

Yet, the world would come to an end once he passes away. Leaving countless people and Icarus to die due to his own selfishness of closing his heart off due to unrequited love.

“Why was I even born…”

“Because your parents loved each other very much, Briar.”

A bit startled, Briar turned to his aunt, who came unannounced into his room. She smiled apologetically as she walked toward him. “The door was opened so I let myself in… I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“No, it’s all right. This is your home, so it would be rude of me to chase you away,” Briar responded softly, brushing away his mid-length hair away from his face. “Well, not that I want to.”

Maybe I should cut my hair… It’s pointless to grow it further.

“You know you can always let your frustrations out, I wouldn't mind. And what are you saying? This is your home too!” Sitting at the edge of his bed, Aunt Margareth patted his shoulder. “Don’t punish yourself, Briar. You can’t let your problems win over you. Remember what I told you when you were still a child? You were born into this world with love. Whatever problem the world throws at you, you can always depend on this love to guide you.”

“Yeah… The same love that caused death to befall upon my father, Aunt Marge.” Leaning back on his pillows, Briar clicked his tongue out of annoyance. “I don’t understand! Why was I born like this? Those suitors only see me for my appearance, but they don't actually see the real me. They only love the Briar Solentine they see now, but even with such looks, I can barely get Icarus to notice me. And yet, if I try to live honestly, those whom I love will end up leaving me and I am back to being all alone again… If I showed my real face… nobody will love me. Just why..?”

Why was I born like this? Why can’t Icarus love me? Why did my parents leave me? What is wrong with me?

Why do I die when I get no love?

“That isn’t true and you know that.” Sighing, the lady looked her nephew in the eye while offering a small sympathetic smile. “Briar, I may not be the same as you—I wish I was so I could share your pain—but I understand you. Your father entrusted me to take care of you as much as I can. He made me promise to do whatever it takes for you to live life to the fullest and to never end up like him. I swore… I swore to give you the life they have always wanted to give their son. My sister may have lacked a few things, but she was indeed a good mother. Your father may have died, but trust me, he never wanted to leave you alone. They never wanted to. And I will never leave you until you are happy. I will make sure you are going to live the best life you deserve even if I have to escape the afterlife.”

“Aunt Marge…”

“You are not hideous, Briar. You are beautiful inside and out. Those who fail to see that, damn them. The time will come when someone will love you the way you love them. Probably even more.”

“That’s just it, Aunt Marge! I have no time… because of this curse…” Burying his face in his hands, Briar felt lost and helpless. He doesn't want to die, but was he really going to live with a person he doesn’t love just for the sake of living? “Ah, I give up! Maybe this is truly my fate… Maybe I should just die—”

A hand instantly covered his lips, confusing Briar. He turned to his aunt, whose face was flushed in slight anger.

“Don’t say that! You don’t deserve to die. No one does! You haven’t even gone out to see the world and everything it has to offer! Are you going to just keel over and let it happen? Who knows? Maybe the person destined for you is just out there waiting for you to walk by, and here you are talking about death!”

Giving his aunt a skeptical look, Briar chuckled. “Don’t tell me you want me to see another batch of suitors. I told you already. I don’t want to marry someone I just met or someone who is blindly attracted to my face alone—”

“They wouldn’t be a stranger if you get to know them better. Come on, my child! Don’t waste your precious time on Icarus and see other people. You give up so easily, but when it comes to Icarus, you wouldn’t mind standing outside under the heat of the sun!”

“Icarus is a different case for I loved him and I don’t feel the same way for those suitors!” Embarrassed, Briar groaned out in exhaustion from yesterday’s events, rolling to his side and stuffing his face into his pillow. He did not expect to get scolded by his aunt today. Let alone get called out. “What’s the point, anyway? I’m better off alone.”

“Briar, just please don’t give up on yourself so easily.” Then, as if she was hit by lightning, she stood up and snapped her finger. Concerned as to why she was acting that way, Briar glanced at her. “I know! Why don’t we go to that man’s museum? He sent us two tickets last week, saying we can come over anytime since he couldn’t come here due to the nature of his work.”

This piqued Briar’s interest.

“Museum? Whose museum?”

Seeing his enthusiasm, Lady Margareth continued. “Yes, owned by Mr. Castriel Persimore. I’m sure you’ll like it there! He’s a sorcerer who rose to fame when he was a teenager and received an award from the king himself due to his discoveries and medicine. I heard his museum stores a lot of strange objects he got from his many adventures. Would you like to go?”

“Of course! How did you get tickets from him, Aunt Marge? Is he a friend of yours? An old lover?”

“Um… No, actually…”

Suddenly, it was silent between them. Mostly because Lady Margareth just stood there, sweating with her mouth open, unable to say anything. Gauging from her expression, Briar’s excitement dropped as soon as he realized what she was about to do.

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“Aunt Marge, I can’t believe you would try your sly tactics on your own nephew.”

“But Briar, this man seems nice, and he gave us tickets! Free tickets! Do you know how popular his museum is? A lot of people from all around the world travel miles and miles just to bear witness to his discoveries and conquests. Those tickets are definitely expensive. I’m sure you will come to like him and be interested in his work. You should have seen the way your face lit up at the mention of his museum—”

“Aunt Marge, as I said, I don’t want to see any more suitors. Additionally, you mentioned this man is a sorcerer—which is bad. Did you know a lot of sorcerers are evil? They are almost on the daily paper every month due to their fascination with the creatures of the dark. Have you ever met him? Have you seen a picture of him? He might be a pervy old man for all we know!”

“Briar, you just can’t assume a person’s way of life or how they look based on their work—”

“No, I don’t want to go and meet him. I’m sorry for assuming who he is, but even if he isn’t like the other sorcerers out there, I still won’t go.”

“Briar—”

“I don't want to. If I die and the world ends, so be it.”

༻❈༺

Tight. The suit he wore was tight around the waistline, and his shoes made his heels ache. The trip to the next town was about four hours on foot, three hours when using a carriage, and two if the road wasn’t bustling with merchants. It was quite a long ride just to visit the Museum of Peculiar owned by the suitor of the name Mr. Castriel. And if Briar Solentine were, to be honest, it was such a boring name to give to a museum.

What was the owner thinking when he gave that name to his own museum? Wasn’t he sorry for himself? Well, I guess he is consistent in making barely any effort—with seeing me and with naming his museum.

“How much longer for us to arrive? My back and butt hurt…”

Enduring a three-hour ride was already torture for the nineteen-year-old. Yet, his aunt was quite full of spirit as she sat across him with a proud smile plastered on her face. After protesting in front of Briar’s room, the man finally agreed to come with her to visit the suitor.

“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.”

“Forget love, I might just die right here. Right now.” Stretching his back, Briar yawned. “I’m so hungry, I could eat the horse pulling this carriage.”

“I apologize. If I knew how busy the roads were, I would have asked the butler to prepare a meal for us,” Lady Margareth responded, lips settled in a pout. “Don’t worry, as soon as we arrive, we shall have some lunch first.”

Fisting his glove-covered hands, Briar bit his lip, then sighed out of disappointment towards himself. “Aunt Marge, I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re making an effort to find me a partner so I wouldn’t have to die, but here I am complaining so much as if I’ve done everything I can to escape my fate. You’re right, I should not give up. I’ll try and make an effort today, I promise.”

At her nephew’s words, Lady Margareth nodded eagerly with unshed tears. “Don’t be sorry, Briar. It’s all right to feel as if you’re lost and ready to give up. Everyone feels that way at some point. If I could, I would turn back time and give the Lir family’s head a piece of my mind when he started spreading rumors about us. Maybe I shouldn't have moved to that town and gone here instead. And don’t fret, my child. If Mr. Castriel is indeed a pervy old man, I shall turn down his request to court you immediately.”

Somehow, this made Briar feel better.

Thirty minutes went by like a flash and soon, a town greeted their sights. The merchants yelled out words of praise towards their products, urging passers-by to buy their goods. Seeing a couple selling apples, Briar gestured to them as he held out coins. Needless to say, the apples paired well with their lunch at a small cafe by the town’s library.

“So… this is his museum?” Briar gawked at the large, intimidating building that greeted him. Despite the funny name, it appeared to be a respectable museum and one that seemed to have cost a fortune to build. Swallowing his anxiety down, he held his aunt’s hand as they walked up the stairs to the entrance. As soon as they gave their tickets and went in, Briar has been silent the whole time compared to his aunt, who was buzzing with energy.

“Oh my, I’ve never seen a pixie’s wing before! I heard they were a mighty race who helped toil the lands along with humans before the great war occurred. How did he get his hands on such a valuable item?”

“Good afternoon, Lady Margareth and Sir Briar.” A lady approached them, all smiles, and wearing the same uniform as the staff at the ticket booth. “I was told that you wanted to see Mr. Castriel. Would you please follow me? He is in the artifacts section.”

“Oh my. That would be lovely, dear.” Lady Margareth and Briar followed the woman closely as they maneuvered past other guests to wherever Mr. Castriel might be. As they ventured further into the building, Briar found his heart racing. His suit slowly seemed to suffocate him. His feet felt like they were walking on glass. His hair, which he neatly braided, seems to aggravate his headache.

Why am I so anxious? Hold on, is this even because of my nervousness? Or is this because I lack sleep?

Taking deep breaths, Briar fought back a pained groan as he finally caught up with his aunt and the staff member. In front of them was indeed an old, skinny man wearing thin glasses. His silver hair brushed back that complemented his own suit. His aunt instantly turned to Briar, alarmed.

I knew it. He IS an old man—

Losing his footing, Briar made a grab for the nearest object which was an exoskeleton of an exotic mammal but failed to do so. He was ready to humiliate himself in front of a suitor the first time when a hand grabbed him from behind, steadying his balance. Briar did not hesitate to hang on to the person who saved him from making another embarrassment of himself, clutching to the person’s arm as he stood up straight.

“Are you all right?”

Cobalt blue eyes—bluer than the ocean he has come to love and despise at the same time—met his own pair of blue hues. For once, Briar was blown away.

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