Chapter 41: Sorry For Your Loss
"Several symptoms are used to identify Flamms. The most iconic is the nerve paralysis and the loss of the sense of touch. Other complications occur with Flamms, such as nerve flare-ups and the sensation of burning from the inside out in limbs affected with the disease."
The nurse kindly explained while pointing at diagrams and demonstrations in the educational hall.
"You see, all victims of Flamms are those younger than the age of 18. It can occur at any point in time, but most occur in those below the age of 5; after that, the odds of falling victim are drastically reduced."
"The death rate is also pretty low; only victims with Flamms in their head or chest area are susceptible to a tragic end."
"Unfortunately..." The nurse pointed at the relatively empty board beside the symptoms one, "There are no viable cures or treatments available for the disease, even after many years of research and millions of Crowns invested."
"We've had many great biologists, epidemiologists, and medical scientists attempt to find a solution to this grating problem."
Shaking her head, "Alas, nothing. So, I implore you, if you do want to follow this line of work, please try and finally find a cure for this tragic disease."
Bowing to the crowd, the nurse received a handful of claps and several shining eyes. Mainly from the youth, those who've aged had either resentment or acceptance in their gazes. They'd lost all hope.
They've given up.
Esme sat to my left like an obedient, curious little child. Hilda, on the other hand...
"Hnng~"
She napped on my shoulder with drool dribbling out of her mouth, cutely leaking onto her shirt.
Fixing her badly leaning neck into a more comfortable position—meaning placing her head on my lap for a more comfortable experience—I received Lily's piercing, apologetic, and accusatory gazes all at once.
Maybe I'm half the reason Hilda is this sloppy.
...Or all of it, I did make her crazy by showing my face.
I had a lot to contemplate.
---
Walking by the noise of a crying baby, the one in that familiar mother's arms, we walked by the stumbling Leon and exited the clinic.
That family had also come along for the educational tour at the same time as us.
They were staying behind for a minute, though.
Exiting the premises, I enjoyed the fresh air and followed the group back to our carriages. We couldn't do much more today as we had run out of time.
"Want to come again?!" Hilda, the one who had slept through the entire tour, suggested something utterly outrageous.
"...Only if you remain awake during the next visit, Hilda." Patting Hilda's back, Esme hopped onto the carriage with Lily's aid.
"Hey! I did my best!"
Jumping on, Hilda held her hand out for me and pulled me up.
"Sure you did, Hilda."
I didn't hold back on my praise either.
"See?! Lady Esme?! Even the little dummy agrees!"
Thud!
Pouncing in pain from the abrupt fist to head massage, Hilda's head slammed into the carriage's roof and amplified the injury.
"Oww!"
"Manners, Miss Hilda."
---
"Miss Senuela, considering the information you have recently learned and the details of Leon's recent developments..."
An aged doctor held a pen in his wrinkling old hand, he tapped the table with gentle force.
"You recommend a check-up?" Soothing the baby in her arms with one hand and massaging her son's shoulder with the other, the worry in her face was vivid.
Nodding, the doctor regretfully confirmed, "Indeed, it is recommended that your son be checked for Flamm's. An abrupt change in demeanour, the sudden loss of his ability to speak, and the disorientation-"
Shaking his head, "And his age, it's all signs."
Senuela's heart sank to the depths, the blood draining out of her face. The grip on her son's shoulder shook, struggling to contain the storm of emotions overwhelming her.
"Miss Senuela, they are signs, not confirmation. We'd have to run tests first to confirm; there have been plenty of false alarms in the past. However, I do not want to get your hopes up emptily, so please remember that it is possible."
"...Mhm."
---
Calming her baby with fidgeting arms, Senuela sat quietly in the hallway beside the examination room. Leon had to be anaesthetised for the procedure, so the wait was going to be quite lengthy, perhaps over three hours long.
Worry flooded her flustered emotions, but-
"Whose a good girl!" Senuela smothered her face into the baby's belly, tickling it to laughter. Smiling at her daughter's goofy face, Senuela gulped down her anxieties.
Pitter- Patter-
Soft, dull steps echoed down the hall, but Senuela subconsciously ignored the noises.
Her mind was focused elsewhere, mainly on her myriad worries.
Pitter! Patter!
This time around, the steps were louder, right beside her ear.
Even her daughter's fingers reached to the side, pointing at the source of the noise.
Diverting her attention to the steps-
Eyes, wide, adorable little eyes.
A brown-haired little boy oogled her daughter with sparkles in his pupils.
"Hi!" He quietly 'shouted' at them.
"...Hello little gentleman, what's wrong?"
The boy shook his head, "Nothing! But-" He raised a book held in his arms, "I thought you would want this book! Reading is really fun! Really, really fun!"
Cheerfully passing along the book into Senuela's arms, "My name's Philip! If you want anything! Books?! I can give you more! Bye-bye!"
Rushing his words out, Philip hopped back with a skip in his step, then rushed off to god knows where. He left Senuela bewildered but also with...
"So cute."
This interaction soothed her worried heart—her nerves were eased.
.....
...In the end, her worries were not unfounded.
"I'm sorry, I hate to inform you that your son, Leon, has Flamm's."
The doctor bowed to the stunned Senuela.
"And, it is in his head. I am very, very, sorry."
He didn't say it, he didn't even need to mention it, but she could hear it;
The;
[I am very, very, sorry for your loss.]
-----
The possibility of Flamms is drastically reduced for those over the age of 5.
Lying in my tattered bed, the information I had received only 2 hours ago echoed in my mind. The odds of Esme succumbing to Flamms is already low due to her age, yet they still cry of danger; of the need for me to save her.
Now, I have a solid understanding of Flamms.
But I still know nothing about the Canaries. There are no rumours, no organisations or even stores that go by that name in Luminary City.
I asked Esme, Lily, and Hilda.
I listened to the murmurs of the people around us.
And, I kept a close eye on everything passing by as we strode through the streets in carriages.
Sure, I understand that these 'Canaries' may be hiding on the outskirts of the Domain of Light, somewhere far beyond my current search capability-
But it's frustrating.
The powerlessness.
76,235,658italmostfeelslikethosedaysalloveragain76,319,604.
Squirming beneath clouds of overflowing, flowery Curses; gazing upon the vile, slithering, snake-esque Curses fluttering before my eyes;
Listening to the echoing, endless, countless, ever-present voices;
"Ihavetoworkharderfaster."
Boiling with Curses, I raised my gloved hands into the cloud of Curses.
Then, slowly, carefully-
Squelch.
-I peeled off my gloves.
Wriggling flesh covered my tiny fingers; the veins in my palms squirmed like centipedes, tearing and burning with black steam as wisps of Curses flowed out of the blood.
It hurts.
But it always hurts anyway.
Staring at the mess that could no longer be called my fingers but the creature's, I lightly coughed out a mouthful of vile, black Cursed blood.
It was one thing after the other.
My body was creating a mess of itself.
The old wounds from the ritual had already healed; this, on the other hand, are the basic side effects of being a Perfect Cursed Doll.
It's the side effects of having nothing but Curses flowing through my veins.
Clenching my filthy hands, the molten bits of wriggling flesh splattered and produced horrendous noises. Curses popped out each time two 'blisters' of molten flesh collided, releasing a wave of sizzling Curses.
Encased in a dome of petalled Curses, every breath constituted a Curse of sorts.
My throat was beginning to burn and freeze itself up, the melting Cursed flesh was sticking together, making every breath harder than the previous one.
"Glurgh!"
Disgusting, crackling noises sputtered from my throat.
Lying on this black blood-drenched, tattered bed, my eyes darted around with extra caution. I couldn't trust that no one would enter the room this late at night, and Esme and Hilda are wild cards.
Many things could go wrong, Hilda's discovery of this being one of the milder issues.
The worst case scenario would be Esme witne-
Creak...
A high-pitched screech came from the door hinges.
Pushing my bloodshot, wriggling eyeballs to the door, I held my croaking breath.
Tension piled in my bones.
Step.
...And then the tension relaxed, draining away in the faucet produced by the waves of chestnut hair.
Staring down at me from afar with icy blue eyes:
"H, Glug! i... Glug! Moth, Glug! er..."
"My sweet Alora, it seems that your perfection is being further refined with each moment. Those are truly beautiful petals you have sprouted." Smiling at the sight of this creature, mother closed the door behind her and walked to the side of my bed.
"The roots of your Curses are growing wonderfully. Had you been a Blessed child, you'd be rapidly approaching the Second Step. Given two years, I believe you could reach it and be the youngest Second Step of all time."
"Fortunately, you are not."
"Instead, my sweet Alora, you are embedding yourself within the perfection of Curses."
Hopping onto my empty bedside table, she crossed one leg over the other and relaxed. Leaning back, she swept her hair over her left shoulder, giving me a view of her nape.
"I don't believe I ever explained to you the Ascension of the normal person with both Curses and Blessings, have I?"
Gazing upon my disfigured state, mother lovingly gave me a way out, "No need to speak, perfection is never easy."
Playing tapping her chin, mother began the explanation I had been looking for
She began it while I melted from the inside out.
Boiling, melting, screaming, crying, but never audibly releasing the tension.
I swallowed it all and kept my gaze on mother.
"Ascension is a simple process."
Staring into my soul:
"You must attain Approval. Approval for Ascension."