“How can anyone be sure, Alice? People walk in a haze all day. You think they’re sure of anything? The trick isn’t to be sure.
“Then what is the trick?”
“The trick to believe.”
“Believe things are true no matter what?”
“No. Believe in yourself.” He stood up. “I really need to go now, so again, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“By the way,” he stopped before disappearing. “You never asked me why I was grateful you didn’t kill Carolus.”
“Isn’t obvious? So you don’t die?”
“Everyone dies, Alice,” Lewis said. “I thanked you because if you have killed Carolus, I’d never have known if I could beat him myself”
Alice considered it for a moment. It was a good point of view. “Wait. I just realized you’re showing up in the hour of truth. Does that mean you’re real?”
But then Lewis was gone and the lights went out.
Epilogue Part Three
The Hour of Truth, between 5:43 PM.
In the Vatican, Fabiola sat alone in her private room in the back.
She was about to take off her white dress and fold it next to the Vorpal sword on the table.
Slowly, she began unbuttoning her dress. From this day, she was not going to be a nun anymore. It had only been a matter of time.
She stared at her arms and shoulders, and almost closed her eyes. They showed traces of her past in the most unusual ways.
Fabiola changed into a modern dress, jeans and a t-shirt, took her Vorpal sword and opened the door.
She stopped by the children from Columbia. The children nodded understandably. They knew what was going on, and they liked it.
Then Fabiola walked past the people who loved her and cherished her.
Smiling at her followers, she cursed the Pillar under her breath. She cursed him for so many things, but mainly for reminding her she was no nun. That no matter how she tried to hide it, she was a warrior. And World War Wonderland was only a week or two away.
Some of her people cupped their hands on their mouth, staring at her arms. Was this the nun they had loved and cherished all along?
But Fabiola had no choice. Black Chess surfaced. The Inklings were gathering. The prophecy had proven to be right. The girl was the Real Alice, even if she didn’t always seem apt to the mission.
She stepped out of the church, asking to be forgiven, for she was about to stare darkness in the eyes, hoping she’d be as strong as Alice and not get stained like in the past.
She turned and said goodbye to her people, still staring at her hands and shoulders covered in tattoos. She knew it was shocking, even to herself after all this time. But she could not escape who she really was. The Pillar made sure she’d return to her old self, and she hated him for that.
Throughout the piazza, walked the White Queen, gripping her Vorpal sword, wearing the tattoos that mostly said:
I can’t escape yesterday because I’m still the same warrior now.
On the other side of the world, the Pillar was sitting on a bank in Oxford University when the hour of truth came. He’d managed to resist the truth for half an hour. But it was no use. Whatever this curse of truth was, it was madder than fiction.
He was fiddling with the key when the hour’s effect empowered him. There was no going back now.
He pulled out an envelope and tucked the key in.
Slowly, he walked out of the university to the nearest post office. He borrowed a pen and wrote on a small piece of paper:
Here is the first key. Alice has another, so you have two out of six now. As for me, mission accomplished. I’m done and gone. None of you will ever see me again.
The Pillar slid the piece of paper into the envelope and licked it to a close.
He borrowed the pen again and wrote on the back of the envelope:
To the only woman I’ve ever loved.
Then he wrote the address on the back: The Vatican.
While trying to slide the envelope into the box, his glove stuck in a nail sticking out from the side. He took off the white glove, just for a moment, and found himself staring at an old heart-wrenching memory. He was staring at the two knuckles missing from the fingers on his right hand.
.
The END...