Truth or Dare

It is a beautiful night.

The majestic moon was out in her full bloom, gracing the world with silver streaks of moonlight that puts everything under the night sky in full view. Her perfect companion is the countless stars cascaded in constellations, telling the world stories it never knew.

Too bad they never heard it -- if only people would pay more attention. The Divine is the greatest storyteller who never speaks.

We were seated in front of Aunt Marcy's cabin in a wooden chair and table. In its center was a tiny pot filled with flower succulents. Instead of fences to mark their property, it was surrounded by shrubs and trees.

Just a few meters away from the wooden table, is a three-layered wooden plant shelf which paint looked worn out over the years. It has a few flowering plants on each layer, beside it was a row of pots with plants and flowers too.

The ground is carpeted with green grass. From the cabin's door, you will see planks of woods that were laid out to make a step up to where the property ends. Then a clearing that leads to the well -- where I bet Phadeon fetched the waters from.

"Estrelle,"

He said faintly. I am unsure if he was saying it to himself to memorize my name but ended up saying it aloud. Or is he calling out my name to get my attention?

I glanced at him and found him looking at his cup as if waiting for something to magically appear in it. A faint light revealed his face just enough for me to see him up close. I never saw him this close -- not once in the many years that I have watched over him.

His shoulder-length layered hair sways gently to the blowing breeze. He has a firm look on his face because of his jawline and pursed lips. He has a pair of deep-seated eyes.

The way he sits looked relax but still exudes confidence and authority. He still has his noble ways -- either it was done out of reflex or a habit.

"Do you believe in Angels, or have you seen one?"

His words came to me like cold water. Does it mean that he knows what I am? Is he asking me a random question, or is he trying to make me speak up about it to confirm what he saw.

I've known him all his life, I watched him grow before me, but I can't still catch up to his queues. His body language and poker face are nothing but misleading clues that bring you to dead ends -- he is a professional con artist.

"Of course I believe in them. Most people do I guess. Why?"

I answered as I sip my tea, trying to compose myself.

"Truth or Dare?"

Although it is a breezy night, the wind isn't cold enough to make one feel cold. His question made me shivered more than the crisp winds. I've been around humans for so long. I know what a truth or dare game is.

If I won't play along, Phaedon will be suspicious. Even if I would lie to him, and tell him that it could just be a dream or in a delirious state -- I still should not invite suspicions. I don't want him keeping an eye on everything I do and say.

"That's a good game -- it's time that we get to know each other. Truth!"

"Are you by chance an angel?"

My heart raised as I felt a chill ran down my spine. Inviting him to a cup of tea is definitely like digging my own grave.

If we were lovers like Aunt Marcy thought we were, this can be a perfect setting for a romantic evening. But nothing is romantic about this talk -- it's frantic, rather than romantic.

I have to be careful and mindful of everything I tell him. His small talks are his way of setting up traps to catch his prey. I am not an enemy -- but everything that I am from this point forward is something that he shouldn't know.

"What a silly question, I know I have a pretty face that looks angelic but I assure you -- I'm not an Angel. But, on second thought, would you help me check my back just to be sure I am not growing wings? Ahahahaha."

Waves of laughter filled the air. It came perfectly in harmony with the chirping of the crickets. I was relieved that I made him laugh with my silly answer. It's rare that I see him laugh that way -- in fact those times I saw him laugh genuinely, his wife is the only one present.

"You know what's funny, as I was falling off the cliff before I lose consciousness -- I saw my wife, or maybe it was you. Dying could really fuck your brain that much. Until this moment, I still can't believe I am talking to someone who looks exactly just my wife."

What he said reminded me about my appearance. It is true, even some of the angels who saw her tell me that I share a strong resemblance to her. Now that made me feel that my presence in his life will only burden him more.

He loves his wife dearly -- she's the only one he loved the most.

"Alright, it's your turn. Truth or dare?" I said to cheer him up and put his thoughts away from her for a bit.

"Dare!"

As someone who was raised in a different kind of household, I have already predicted that he will always choose dare. He won't give someone the chance to extract anything from him. And even if he did, he won't tell you straight out.

"Tomorrow I dare you to help me around the house. Let's surprise Aunt Marcy, the place needs tending."

"Alright. I won't say no to that. But I rather have you go with Aunt Marcy to the lavender fields tomorrow. Help her out, so she won't have to work much. She's old already, if we end up living with her for a while, I rather have us do the work and be the ones to put food on the table. That's the least we could do."

To me, it sounded more of a command rather than a friendly request to someone. But what do I expect from the Lord who is used to giving out orders and ran a mafia?

"Okay, if you say so. Not going to argue with you on that."

"Also, we both know that what Aunt Marcy thought about us wasn't true. So, tell me, who are you? How did you found me?"

This time, the tone in his voice is serious rather than casual. Although his expression hadn't changed a bit.

What should I tell him?

I haven't prepared myself for this. Why am I so unwitty, I just want to cry and roast myself right now. I shouldn't have gone inviting him for tea without coming up with a convincing back story.

"Would you believe I'm homeless? I move from one place to another doing small stuff for people in exchange for food, shelter, or clothes. Whatever I need for the moment. When I was walking by the seashore, I thought I saw something floating.

I wasn't even sure what I saw, not until you were drifted a bit closer. So I came and try to get you, without even knowing how to paddle a boat. Thought of asking for someone to come and help, but I was worried that you may be drifted off shore if I leave you.

Who knows if you are dead or alive, but if you are alive -- then every minute counts. So I hopped into someone's boat and tried my luck. Unfortunately, the sea is so rough, and does not welcome noobs like me."

There was a moment of silence. I am unsure if he bought my story or not, but I think it's good enough. That's the best story I can come up with. I entertained myself by watching the dancing shadows of the trees just a few meters away from us.

"Even if you failed I still commend you for the bravery of saving someone you didn't even know. You risked losing your life for a total stranger. I am forever indebted to you. The fact that someone is willing to die with me, rather than let me die alone and cold is already a comforting thought. Thank you."

He stated like he was knighting me for doing a great job. After he sipped the last drop of his tea, he stood up, prompting me that it was the end of our conversation.

"Let's get inside now and take a rest. It's getting cold out here. Take the bed, I'll sleep on the sofa."

He added, then turned away to head inside the cabin. I took the cups and followed him.

- x - x - x - x - O - O - O - x - x - x - x -

Although it was almost a convincing story, I still find plausible holes in her story.

If she was a pure stranger -- is it really worth your life to go and save someone you don't have an idea of? Why would you want to save a person if you don't have a clue if the person deserves to die because of his crimes?

If she was homeless -- she looked well kept. She doesn't look like someone living in the streets or doing jobs. I have seen a lot of well off women.

Even if she toned herself down and dress in shabby clothes, just the sight of her flawless skin, her long flowing hair, and the way she carries herself with finesse. I get these mixed feelings and being unable to tell whether she's faking it or not.

She has a genuine personality, but her body language goes on a different path. It's like she's putting up a show in front of me.

The way she avoided eye contact and her humour to hide her nervousness. I must be patient, I should not rush on things or it will blow everything up. What's important is I convinced her to go with Aunt Marcy.

It will keep her busy, and away from me. If she is truly a spy, she will have very little time with me, and I can go on planning without worrying about her so much. Aunt Marcy will keep an eye on her for me.

No one can ever tame me -- no one. Not Estrelle, not Leo, not even you, mother.