Chapter 7: Iris Luna
This morning when I reached the lab I was sizzling with the hope that the experiments I had in mind could reveal the very soul of the mysterious gas that had formed from the reaction between Irissa Celata and water. And yet as soon as I began working I felt a disharmonic note in the air, I was inexplicably distracted and enchained a number of vexing mistakes. I kept on working nonetheless, but a disquiet feeling foamed within me till I finally paused. What was happening? I suddenly realized I had the urge to go out for a walk, and for some reason I cannot define a certain old part of the town where I hadn’t been in ages came to my mind. I decided that I would take the rest of the morning off and stroll for a bit in the delightfully decadent flavour of that area, perhaps have lunch outside and get back to work with a refreshed mind.
It was strange how on my way I was animated by a sort of inner tingle, the sort one feels when anticipating a special encounter, although I was not to meet anyone at all. I walked smiling to myself, letting my gaze wander distractedly on the streets as my steps were drawn to that part of the city, that street, I so longed to reach. And at last I was there. Berzelius Street, read the old plaque on a building erected a couple of centuries ago. I had been here before, and this is the place I had wanted to reach, but it seemed so different from my memories, as if it had been glazed with a breeze from the past since the last time I had been there. Ah, it was certainly me and my skewed perception! I was not quite myself today. And yet…let me tell you what happened.
As I walked along Berzelius Street I saw a solitary jeweler’s shop. The shop had an antique look to it, so antique in fact that one could picture it being dormant in time following a potent spell, with the dust in the glass window concealing unimaginable mysteries. I have never seen this place before, although clearly it must be impossible that it hadn’t been there before. How very strange…I hesitated at the entrance a moment, caught between an inexplicable sense of fear and an intense desire to penetrate the enigmatic door. And at last I walked in, irresistibly fascinated. I was alone in the dim light of the place for a while, barely able to orient myself at first. My eyes had just started getting adjusted to the light of the place when a man with a slightly arched back and a conspicuous mustache appeared from the back. He paused his dark blue eyes on me for a timeless moment with such undivided attention I asked myself if truly I was the first person he had seen in centuries.
“How may I help you?”, he finally asked, once he appeared to satisfied with his scrutiny
I began opening my mouth but I was speechless, since I myself was unaware of what I was looking for, and if I was looking for anything at all. As I dropped my gaze in wavering shyness I caught sight of a necklace displayed on a mannequin’s head behind the counter. The necklace had the most beautiful pendant, a drop of wondrous clarity, as transparent as water, with a mineral embedded in it…a red mineral…was it cinnabar or was I confounded about its nature? At once I knew that necklace was meant for me, it felt like a special object that had belonged to my past and that I had finally retrieved after believing it lost for years. Happiness was my first sensation, pure and full, but then a subtle melancholy snaked with in me and turned into uncontainable sadness. Why this pang of shattering pain? And why the plenitude of my joy when I first saw it?
The man cast a deeper gaze on me.
“Are you sure that is what you want?”, he inquired
I nodded
“It is not in me to change the course of destiny”, he replied, and I wondered what he meant
I was about to ask but he placed the index on his mouth in sign of silence. Then he took the necklace and wrapped it in red paper, with slow careful moves. I stared at the movement of his long bony fingers, mesmerized. Once he finished the paper wrapping he raised his eyes on me, and for the shortest instant I saw a flash of compassion cross his gaze.
Why? I thought, and bugged my eyes
There was an array of ribbons in a basket on the counter, he picked the black one and completed the package.
“How much do I owe you?”, I asked when he handed it to me
“Nothing, the necklace has already been paid for”, he replied
“How come?”, I exclaimed, rounding my eyes in astonishment
But instead of answering the jeweler shifted his gaze to the window, and I instinctively turned towards it. There was a man standing there, of young age and yet so old fashioned. He had a long mustache, trimmed into a pointy shape and twisted upwards. His hair was fairly long, glossy and black as charcoal, the same way his eyes were. Burning eyes, looking at my gestures with undisguised suspense…or was I imagining? There was love and anger in those eyes, and the two emotions alternated in a lacerating inner turmoil.
Our eyes crossed for an instant, then he abruptly left, pulling up the neck of his black coat with an irritably gest, as if he could no longer take seeing my figure on the other side of the glass.
I turned back to the jeweler.
“Is this the man who..”, I began, without getting myself to finish
A moment of heavy silence weighed on me, stretching itself in my disoriented mind.
“Good luck, lady Iryssa”, the jeweler said at last
I gasped
Before I could recompose myself he made a stylized gest to the door. I stood there speechless, struck by his sharp gaze penetrating me down to the bones. I stepped backwards, stumbling and empty headed as if intoxicated, and I tumbled out the door.
Then I ran.
I ran and ran, not even knowing where. And when I stopped I found myself in front of the library. Do not step in, I thought for some reason, and I did nonetheless, irresistibly drawn through the door.
I stood at the entrance, looking around in confusion. For a moment I didn’t recognize the place, as if it were new to me.
Somebody stepped inside. “Excuse me”, a voice said from behind my back, and I started, because I realized that I had been standing at the entrance for who knows how long, stoned in time. I mumbled an apology. Hearing my own voice shook me from the torpor in which I had been suspended, and I finally became able to retrace the identity of the place. I realized that I knew the place, and that I had been there before, many times. Suddenly I moved to the rare book section with hasty steps. Almost unconsciously, driven by an irrational and absolute instinct, I found my book on the shelves. I let it fall open, and it split at the page I had last read.
Time has concealed the glory of the true discoverer of mercury cyanide’s nature, and hidden the name of the scientist who liberated the marvellous and evil spirit of this compound through the proof of fire.
But time has not erased the names of the men who were initiated to the mysteries of mercury either by destiny or by the precepts of apt mentors, or inspired by their spirit of discovery! Of all men there is one of majestic stature, a memorable man of science, solitary and surly, and yet full of passion! This man lived and died with passion! His very name indicates that his destiny was bound to mercury! Oh skeptical reader, Cesare Mercurio is the name of the man, how can you deny that the universe and the life within it are more than a mere game of dice played by blindfolded Chance?
Here there was a picture portraying Cesare Mercurio, the man whose destiny was bound to mercury. Who do you think I saw in that picture? You will not believe me even if I told you while swearing on my own life. It was the man who had been looking at me with charcoal eyes through the jeweler’s window! Can this all be a dream? Or am I crazy? I myself distrust my perceptions.
I sat there looking at the picture for hours, time melting away, tears rolling silently down my cheeks, till the librarian touched my shoulder.
“Are you all right, miss?”, she asked.
Yes, I mumbled, and saw the clock flickering through my tears. 10.30, its arms indicated. I was incredulous.
“We are about to close”, the librarian continued.
I nodded and left.
The night is damp and cold today, and the streets felt lonely, so overwhelmingly lonely, as I dragged myself to my attic, heavy with despair.
But how did this state of mind fall upon me?
Oh reader, now that I am here in my attic, resounding with the hollow echo of my confusion, I wish you could speak audible words.
I hear something now…but what is it? The sound is so weak, and my soul so shipwrecked I wonder if I am making believe all my perceptions.