Chapter 76 metamorphosis

New York, November 1, 1902 If she opened her mouth wide enough, Celia would scream. But there was so much to control between the heat, the rain, and Marco in his arms. She focused only on him, and as she ripped herself apart, she took everything he belonged with.She clings to these memories: the feeling of his skin against her skin, every moment she spent with him, carrying him with her. Suddenly, there is nothingness.no rain.no fire.A calm white nothingness. Somewhere in that nothingness, a clock began to strike midnight. stop.she thought. The clock continued to strike, but she felt stillness descending.

Celia realized that the cleavage part was relatively easy to do. i Piecing it all back together is the tricky part. As a child she healed a scratched fingertip, only pushed to the extreme this time. There was so much to balance, and she struggled to get the edges back. It will be easier to just let go. It's much easier to just let go. Just letting go can greatly reduce the pain. She resisted the temptation to give up, resisted the pain and confusion, and struggled to control herself and her surroundings. She picked a place to focus on, the most familiar place she could think of.

Slowly, so slow that it breaks the heart, she put herself back together steadily. At last she stood in her tent, in the middle of a circle of empty chairs. She felt lighter.Dilute and dilute.Slightly dizzy. But she's not just an echo of her predecessor.She was whole again, breathing normally.She could feel her heart beating, fast but steady.Even the dress felt the same, falling and falling around her without the rain. She spun around, and the gown fluttered all around. She calmed herself down, the dizziness began to subside, and she was still amazed by this achievement. Then she noticed that everything in the surrounding tent was transparent.The chairs, the overhead lighting, even the stripes on the walls feel unreal.

And she was alone. For Marco, the moment of explosion lasted longer. He reluctantly clung to Celia tightly, and the heat and light seemed to stretch on endlessly. Then she disappeared. Nothing stays, no fire, no rain, no ground underfoot. The scene he saw began to alternate between shadow and light, a vast expanse of white instead of black, and then swallowed by darkness again.Unable to settle down for a long time. The circus moves around Celia, as smoothly as one of Marco's visions. She pictured herself thinking of somewhere in the circus, and she was there in an instant.She couldn't even judge whether she moved on her own initiative, or accommodated herself by manipulating the surrounding circus.

The ice garden is silent and still, looking in every direction, there is nothing in sight except the cool and cool white. Only a small portion of the Hall of Mirrors reflected her own features, and some of the mirrors showed only the hem of a pale gray gown flashing by, or the bulging ribbon trailing behind her. She thought she caught a glimpse of Marco in the mirror, the edge of his jacket or the bright glint of his collar, but she couldn't be sure. Many mirrors sit empty in ornate picture frames. She searched in the zoo tent, where the fog slowly dissipated, and there was nothing hidden in it except paper.

There was not even a ripple in the pool of tears, the water surface was calm and smooth, and she couldn't grab a stone and throw it into it.She also couldn't light the candles on the wishing tree, though the candles hanging from the branches kept burning. She travels between rooms in the maze.The rooms she created are connected with the ones he created, and after walking through them all, they will go back the same way. She can feel him.It felt close enough to make her look forward to meeting him at every corner, behind every door. But there are only lightly floating feathers and fluttering poker cards.A silver statue with empty eyes.Floor squares painted as a checkerboard are left unused.

There are traces of him everywhere, but there is nothing she can focus on.There is nothing to cling to. The hallway with its rows of mismatched doors and the snow-covered floor might be footprints, or it might just be shadows. And Celia couldn't see where those traces led. As the air filled his lungs, Marco gasped in surprise, as if he had been underwater before and didn't realize it. His first coherent thought was that he hadn't expected to be so cold being trapped in the fire. The cold air was sharp and biting, and it was white in all directions. After his eyes adjusted, he recognized the shadow of a tree.The overhanging branches of a frosty white willow draped around him.

He took a step forward, and the ground under his feet was frighteningly soft. He was standing in the middle of the ice garden. The fountain in the middle stopped gushing water, and the normally bubbling pool remained still. The whole whiteness made that effect hard to see, but the whole garden was transparent. He looked down at his hands, which trembled slightly but seemed solid.The suit was still jet black and opaque. Marco raised his hand to a nearby rose, and felt a slight resistance as he ran his hand through the petals, as if the petals were made of water. While he was still looking at the rose, there was a surprised gasp from behind him.

Celia covered her mouth with both hands, not quite daring to believe her eyes.Marco standing in the ice garden was a scene she had imagined many times standing alone among the large ice flowers, although his suit looked dark and deep against the pale roses in the lattice arch, which seemed unreal. Then he turned and saw her.As soon as she met his eyes, all her doubts were gone. For a split second, he looked so young, she could see him as a teenager, years before she knew him, when they were connected but still far apart. There were so many things she wanted to tell, things she feared she would never have the chance to tell him again, it seemed that only one thing really mattered.

I love you.she says. Those words echoed throughout the tent, making the frozen leaves rustle softly. When she approached, Marco just stared at her blankly, thinking she was a dream. I thought I lost you.She walked up to him and said in a trembling whisper. She seemed as solid as he, not as transparent as a garden.Against the entire white background, she looked gorgeous, plump and alive, with a bright flush on her cheeks and tears in her dark eyes. He reached for her face, afraid that his fingers would go straight through, like touching a rose. Under his touch, she was solid, warm, flexible and vivid, and the strong feeling of relief almost made him overwhelmed.

He pulled her into his arms, tears trickling down her hair. i love you.It was hard for him to speak out. They stood together tightly entangled, and no one wanted to let go of each other. I couldn't let you do that then, Celia said: I just couldn't let you go. What did you do?Marco asked.He wasn't entirely sure he understood how things were going. I took the circus as a touchstone, Celia said: I don't know if it will work, but I can't let you go, I have to try.I tried to take you away, and then I couldn't find you, so I thought I lost you. I'm here, Marco said, stroking her hair, I'm still here. He hadn't expected this: to be freed from the world, and then to be restored in a confined place.He didn't feel limited, just a sense of isolation, as if he and Celia overlapped with the circus itself rather than contained within it. He looked around the trees, the long frost-covered willow branches drooping down, and the plants that lined the nearby trails looked like ghosts. Only then did he notice that the garden was melting. The campfire went out.Marco said.That emptiness, he felt now.He could feel the circus surrounding him, enveloping him like a mist, as if he could touch the iron fence that was clearly separated by some distance with his hand.It is almost effortless to sense the existence of the fence, how far the fence is in each direction, and where each tent is stationed, even if you want to sense the dark atrium and the confinement standing in it Same.He felt the whole circus as easily as a shirt against his skin. Among them, only Celia was shining and burning. But it was a flickering brightness, fragile like candlelight. You are supporting the circus!He said. Celia nodded.It was starting to weigh on her, but it was much harder to manage without the campfire.She can't focus enough to keep the details intact.Elements had begun to drain away, like dripping melted flowers around them. If the circus fell apart, she knew she would never be able to put it back together again. She trembled.Marco hugged her tightly and helped her stand, but she continued to shiver in his arms. Let go, Celia. No, she said: if I let go, it will fall apart. What will happen to us if it falls apart?Marco asked. I don't know, Celia said: I'll put it on hold for now.It cannot be self-sufficient without us.It needs a caretaker.