Entry 15
"In Absentia Lucis..."
October 15th
October 15th
"I have heard about that," I said, my attention fixed on a novel Moriarty placed on the table. "Is it as good as they say?"
Moriarty visited a bit earlier this time around, or so I have been told. She apparently stops by once every two weeks, not too often, not too seldom she says. However, she informed us that she would be visiting family in Sussex for some time and would be leaving in the following days.
"Oh, I certainly think so," she told me. "I must have reread it several times already. It's such a riveting story. If you'd like, I'd be happy to lend it to you."
She handed me the novel, and it was heavier than I had anticipated. The jacket had a wonderful matte texture, and the cover art was gorgeous.
"Thank you so much," said I, admiring the tome in my hands. "I shall return it to you the next time you visit."
"I would love to discuss it with you once you've finished it," Moriarty rose from the table and collected her belongings. "I'll see you both later."
After Moriarty left, I sat on the living room sofa and opened the front cover to read the synopsis on the inside jacket flap when my partner suddenly spoke.
"What is it called?"
"Oh, it's a novel by the title of 'Reichenbach Falls'," I answered having gotten used to her contextless questions. "It came out just last month by a debut author and everyone had been raving about it. The eponymous protagonist rises to power at a young age, but the story describes their descent into madness as they spiral down a dark abyss."
"Hm."
"Personally I think it would be something you would be interested in reading."
"Why is that?"
"Most of the books on your shelves are of the sensational genre," I said. "They usually delve into topics such as this, no?"
"I suppose so," she shrugged, her eyes focused on the Florence flask in front of her. "Perhaps I will have to give it a once over some day."
As soon as she finished her statement, a cloud of smoke erupted from the flask and filled the flat with an odour so foul that we had to evacuate the area after opening the windows.
We sat in the hallway outside the door to our flat waiting for the room to clear. Shirleigh was visibly frustrated as she pulled the goggles from her face and flung them to the ground. She huffed and leaned forward on her elbows, her ponytail falling over one of her shoulders.
"Shirleigh!" Mr Hudson's voice rang out from downstairs and rapid footsteps could be heard scampering up the staircase. "What on Earth did you do this time?"
Shirleigh never looked up from the ground, burning a hole into the porcelain tile with her laserlike stare.
"Another chemistry experiment," Mr Hudson sighed, answering his own question and placing a hand on his forehead. "I thought that maybe you had finally set the place on fire. Well, as long as the both of you are alright."
I gave him an apologetic smile as the other residents emerged from their rooms to see what had happened. Luckily, Miriam had left for a few hours or I feared Shirleigh would have had to face a wrath much worse than Mr Hudson's.
After the smoke had cleared, we returned inside. I was grateful that Moriarty had left just a few moments before the unfortunate mishap occurred.
Shirleigh threw her goggles onto the work table before retreating to her room. As I glanced around the living area, I noticed an unfamiliar object on the table where Moriarty had been seated. As I moved closer to it, it became clear that it was actually her phone lying face down on the tabletop. When I picked it up, a multitude of notifications covered the rather simple lock screen image. Some of them appeared to be messages from a singular person but could not be read unless the phone was unlocked by the owner's face or passcode.
Shirleigh appeared from the bedroom hallway, her hair free from the tie that constrained it.
"Moriarty left her phone," I said aloud, turning to face my partner. "Should we return it to her?"
"She'll come back for it."
I glanced down at the phone in my hand and its endless notifications. Shirleigh was right, Moriarty held an important job and if she got this many messages often, she would soon realise that she left it behind and would return for it soon enough. After stashing the device away in the end table drawer, I joined my companion in front of the fireplace newly acquired book in hand.
Opening the novel to its first pages, I glanced up at Shirleigh who had her gaze fixated on the blazing fire, visibly pouting.
"What were you doing?" I finally asked, figuring she wanted some attention. "The experiment you were working on, I mean."
"Gregson handed me an unknown substance during my last visit and asked if I could identify it. Apparently, it is from a case she is currently working on with some others from the precinct."
"You...brought an unknown substance into the flat...?"
"It's safe..." she paused. "Most likely, anyway."
I wanted to raise concern about bringing foreign materials into a place where multiple people resided but knew that my efforts would be in vain. I certainly hope whatever Officer Lestrade had given Shirleigh was indeed safe to experiment with in an unprofessional setting or I fear the worst for our fellow residents down the line.
"Wait, you are assisting Lestrade? When did you go down to the station?"
"Well, I did not actually step foot in such a wretched place," Shirleigh said, her nose scrunching at the thought. "I met with her a couple of blocks away. I only decided to lend her my aid because it proved intriguing."
"Right. Why don't you just admit that you like helping them out? Lestrade and Gregson, I mean."
"I won't say that I do not like assisting them," Shirleigh mumbled. "They have proven to be different than their corrupt coworkers. I shall render my mind to them until they betray our trust."
"Hm..." I turned my attention back to the book in my lap. "If you say so."
Staring at the ink-stained pages before me had caused me to remember something I had nearly forgotten.
"I begin work with the local paper soon," I said.
"Oh? I feared you had stopped pursuing that line of work."
I shook my head, knowing that she probably wasn't even looking in my direction. "When I had finally decided that I wanted to apply for the open position, it had already been filled, unsurprisingly. But the Chief Editor had called me the other day informing me that one of her journalists had supposedly quit so she needed someone to fill the vacant spot."
"'Supposedly'?" Shirleigh raised a brow.
"I didn't ask the specifics."
"Hmm," my companion shifted in her chair. "Sounds as though you learned two lessons from one experience."
"What do you mean?"
"You must seize opportunities when they arise," Shirleigh's eyes glowed in the light of the fire. "Or else they vanish like shadows under the noon sun."
"What was the other one?"
She shrugged a shoulder. "Good things come to those who wait."
I snickered and finally began to read what would soon prove to be a rather intriguing novel.
»»————- ♔ ————-««
-One-
When a man is given all that anyone could ask for, what is to become of him? Will he pass his blessings to those around him or will it consume him?
Anselm Reichenbach is a man who has received such blessings, at a young age no less and this tale chronicles what would soon become his fall into inevitable madness.
Anselm Reichenbach was a man born of noble blood. His parents the rulers of a grand nation, governing all below them with the utmost scrutiny. Reichenbach had always been surrounded by wealth and grandeur, waking up to exquisitely prepared meals and freshly drawn baths.
The Reichenbach family were known to be tyrants and dictators during their reign, using oppressive measures to keep citizens in their place as though they were lowly servants. Extravagant events were usually held in their fortress of granite and stone. Money would always find its way into the pockets of the royals and never used for the betterment of the villages in their nation.
As a young boy, Reichenbach's father was murdered during one of these ceremonies. His mother, distraught and widowed, mourned for months on end, neglecting even her own son. While the castle servants tended to Anselm Reichenbach's every need, he could not help from feeling alone and isolated with the loss of both parents, one to death and the other mentally. Soon, sickness would take his mother too.
Years later, on the morning marking the eighteenth year of his birth, Reichenbach would be crowned the next ruler of his nation. Alone.
Being the lonesome leader would not bode well for the young man and everything around him, including himself, would fall into the depths of despair.
»»————- ♔ ————-««
I found myself fascinated by the author's decision to essentially tell the reader how the story ends in the very beginning. Most books and novels like to hold onto the suspense to create anticipation until the very end. One would think that it would make someone want to stop reading before they had even started, but I found that this sort of beginning had quite the opposite effect. Instead of being turned away, I wanted to learn about Reichenbach's inevitable fall and all of the details in between. Many others must have felt the same because this novel was currently the bestselling in the country.
After reading the first few paragraphs, my mind couldn't help from noting the similarities between the eponymous character and my companion when it came to their parents. Which was odd because I had no clue as to how Shirleigh's parents had passed and yet there was something that nagged at the back of my mind.
"What's wrong?" My companion was gazing into my eyes, her hand propping her head up on her chair's armrest. Her long legs stretched out before her as she watched me intently. My thoughts must have been written all over my face. I hadn't even realised that I had spaced out, seemingly staring past the bookshelf behind her.
"Oh, it's nothing," I said, shaking my head, a few strands of my bangs falling in front of my eyes. "This is proving to be really interesting, I suppose it had me thinking."
Shirleigh stared at me for a few moments without saying anything. It seemed like she was attempting to read my thoughts and for a moment, I thought she had.
"In absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt."
"What does that mean?" I asked, tilting my head to one side.
"It is Latin," she said, eyes narrowing in a scrutinising manner. "It translates to 'in the absence of light, darkness prevails'."
"Oh...you speak a dead language?"
"I am surprised you do not."
"Well, we did not have to learn the entirety of the language," I explained, understanding the reason for her scepticism. I scratched at my temple suddenly feeling embarrassed. "I am also afraid I did not excel in Latin class."
"I am beginning to question your credibility as a doctor."
"Hey! I know some Latin," I insisted. "What made you say that anyway?"
"It's on the back cover of your novel," Shirleigh pointed and I flipped the book around. "A simple yet effective phrase."
"I had read it, but I was unable to translate it..."
Shirleigh snickered but her expression did not change.
I stared at the words on the back cover, chills running down my spine as I turned the translation over in my head.
In the absence of light, darkness prevails.