Sleep, if it had come at all, had been fleeting. He woke with a start. How could he rest when Lulu, the girl who haunted his dreams, was finally near? In the fading firelight, the pouches hanging above him looked like menacing shadows, and he found himself staring into their darkness. He felt a tremor of fear, but it was not for them.
Finally, he was going to see Lulu. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.
She may have been his childhood sweetheart, but a strange allure had always drawn him to her, a pull that thirteen years of separation could not break. It was a chasm of time so vast he felt foolish for clinging to her memory.
Around seventeen, a new kind of loneliness had taken hold of him. The temptation of women became an ache he could no longer deny, and for a long time, Lulu was forgotten. As a spirit painter, his craft earned him gold coins. While not enough to make him wealthy, they afforded him a life many longed for, endowing him with a glamour he hadn't been born with. As long as he could toss coins about, few women were beyond his reach.
He spent years indulging in the fleeting pleasures they offered, until a realization dawned on him three years ago. While painting for a client, he saw how hollow his life had become. The women brought a temporary happiness, but with each new face, the money he painstakingly earned dwindled.
Yet money was not the true problem. In his client, he had seen something that called Lulu forth from the deepest shadows of his memory. He realized that even surrounded by company, he was not content. Something essential was missing.
Lulu had been an enchanting child. The way she talked, her graceful bearing, the way she made his own spirit sing with joy—all of it set her apart. But those qualities alone were not enough to make a childhood love transcend time. There was something more, something only he could perceive.
As a spirit painter, his eyes saw beyond the ordinary veil of the world. With a single glance, he could pierce the surface of a person and see the good or evil coiled around their soul. It was a wonder, then, how he had fallen prey to the charms of women he knew were leading him nowhere.
His sight had shown him the truth of Lulu. It had revealed something in her that he knew only she possessed. He had never understood what it was, and he still didn't, but one thing became certain in that moment of epiphany: in that mysterious quality lay the destiny of his heart. It was this ache of longing and curiosity that had driven him from his home to the South West.
The golden rays of morning sun struck him, heralding the day he had waited for. The lingering warmth of the fire had chased away the cold, or perhaps he simply couldn't feel it anymore, his heart racing with the thought of seeing her.
The man from the previous night appeared, a smile on his face that seemed even brighter than Allan's own. "You are awake," he said, handing over a bowl.
Allan tried to eat, but the food was tasteless, unable to quell the storm of anxiety for what lay ahead of him.
"I am sure you will be pleased," the man said, his smile turning sheepish as he tried to hide his face. Allan nodded, and the man's smile broadened—a hint of wickedness in it that Allan, lost in his own hopes, failed to notice.
The prospect of his quest finally ending made Allan's stomach churn. He barely touched his food before setting the bowl aside. He asked for water to wash his face; he had to look presentable for the girl he had never stopped loving.
"Of course, child," the man said with a slight bow. He returned minutes later with a calabash of water. "You can use the grass over there."
Once ready, Allan straightened his clothes and met the man's gaze. "Can you take me to Lulu now?"
"Of course," the man beamed, his smile stretching wide as he beckoned with his hand. "Follow me."