Fate/Eva Frankenstein

"You never return to the place you left. Because you are no longer the same person you left, nor is the place the same."

— Eduardo Galeano

_______________________________

Chapter 13: Return - Part 2

Switzerland - 1836

Pov. Third person.

The cold bit her fingers through her gloves.

The sky was a pale gray, heavy with low clouds that promised snow, but had yet to decide to fall.

Eva walked firmly along the cobblestone street of the small town. Her boots crunched on the frost that covered the cracks in the path.

The place was quiet, with tightly packed houses and dark roofs, with an air of routine that hadn't changed in decades. A few children played in the distance, and an old woman swept the entrance to her home without even looking at her.

Beside her, hanging from her shoulder, the lacquered case containing Bridal Chest swayed with each step. Heavy. Familiar. Silent.

She stopped in front of a small wooden building, barely marked by a sign with blurred letters: "Carriages and Parcels - Thieux Family."

She opened the door with a soft creak, and the lulled warmth inside enveloped her for a moment. The smell of old hay and damp wood was intense.

A gray-haired man, with a suspicious but not hostile look, looked up from behind the counter.

"Yes?"

Eva removed her hood and met his gaze. She spoke gently but bluntly:

"I need a carriage to go up to the Valdécour hills. Can you give me a ride?"

The man frowned thoughtfully.

"That's near the old road to the forest..."

Eva nodded silently.

"Few people ask to go that way," the man commented, scratching his beard. "Especially at this time of year. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He hesitated a moment longer, but finally shrugged.

"My son can take you. It leaves in twenty minutes." He nodded toward the back of the stable, where a young man was tying up a pair of horses. "Don't expect the trail to be in good condition. If it starts snowing, it'll go slower than usual."

"It doesn't matter," she said. She nodded in thanks and took a step back to wait.

It had been a few hours since she left Chamonix.

Although her original plan was to walk the entire trail, her promise to return soon forced her to change her plans slightly.

To save time, she decided to take a carriage. So she stopped in this town...

"...reminds me of that place," she murmured softly, her expression almost melancholy.

Her gaze shifted to the silent streets and the wooden houses blackened by time.

Something about the stillness of that town—the hue of the sky, the crunch of ice underfoot, the heavy winter air—brought back echoes of the past. Of a different day. Of a warm presence.

Of a clear laugh.

Eva squinted, trapped in the memory.

But then, the sound of hooves broke the silence. A faint squeal followed as the wheels turned on the frost. Firm footsteps on the stone.

"Miss?" the coachman's voice called from the stable doorway. "Everything's ready. We'll leave as soon as you like."

Eva blinked. The image in my head vanished like vapor.

"Oh... yes. I'm coming."

She adjusted her cloak and the scarf around her neck—the one Lilia had knitted for her—and took a deep breath before heading to the carriage.

Her boots were steady, but her mind was still a few steps behind.

The coachman, a young man no more than twenty, watched her curiously, but said nothing. He simply nodded and opened the small wooden door, holding his breath in the frigid air.

The interior of the carriage smelled of damp leather and straw. The seat was covered with an old wool blanket, rough and lifeless. She climbed in carefully, clutching the bridal chest to her chest, and closed the door behind her.

Inside, the darkness was peaceful.

The sound of the restless horses, the whisper of leather, the click of the strap. Everything seemed distant, as if she were submerged underwater.

That thought… made her close her eyes.

She leaned her forehead against the icy window and saw her reflection in the fogged-up glass.

Pale, serious, half-blurred.

Outside, the snow was finally beginning to fall.

Fine, scattered flakes, accumulating slowly.

The carriage creaked and, with a gentle tug, began to move.

Eva said nothing.

She just let herself be carried along by the clatter of the road, as the white world began to swallow the town behind her.

And with it, the voices, the smells, the heat. Everything.

"...The first time was different," she thought.

Her fingers, wrapped in bandages under her gloves, gripped the case in her lap more tightly.

And for a moment, it wasn't the carriage she felt now beneath her body... but another one.

Older.

Rougher.

Warmer.

_______________________________

Five years ago.

The sky was clear that morning.

The carriage creaked, the horses snorted, and the breeze that came through the crack in the roof was cool, even pleasant.

Eva, with bandages still on her cheeks and a blanket up to her neck, watched everything with a mixture of anxiety and wonder.

It was her first trip outside the mansion.

Although she was wearing gloves, she felt the cold seeping through the seams of her clothes, caressing the bandages under her cloak.

Bandages covered her torso, her back, and part of her still-bruised face.

She had only been able to accompany Emma on that first trip when the swelling went down enough to be hidden with makeup.

She was excited... but at the same time restless.

After training so much with Lea, she seemed to be developing a natural instinct against danger... and for some reason, it was kicking in strongly right now.

But... why?

Sitting beside her with a radiant expression, Emma held the reins in both hands.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Eva asked cautiously, still sitting still.

"Of course! Master Victor taught me the basics." Emma smiled at her with that unmistakable sweetness. "Although, well, I improved on my own afterward. I adapted! I'm a fast learner, you know?"

Eva looked at her silently... and then she noticed something.

Emma's eyes shone.

Too bright.

That unease worsened.

"Emma... why are your knuckles so white?"

Emma didn't answer. She just smiled. Savagely.

The same smile she saw on Lea's face a few days ago!

Eva's eyes widened, and she reflexively tried to jump out of the carriage... but it was too late.

And then the homunculus... snapped the reins.

The horses reared up, whinnied with a bellow, and the carriage shot forward as if a demon were biting at their hooves.

"EMMAAAAAAA!!!" Eva screamed, clutching the edge of her seat in desperation.

"Isn't this exciting?! I've always wanted to try this curve at full speed!"

"WHAT CURVE?!"

"THAT!"

The carriage tilted dangerously as it turned. The wheels squealed, kicking up a cloud of dust.

A squirrel crossing the path made a desperate leap into a bush, squealing as if it had just seen Death itself.

Eva swore she heard the creak of a wheel threatening to come loose. The air filled with jolts, thundering wood, and hooves galloping at an impossible pace.

The carriage hit a stone and for a second they flew—flew!—before landing back on the road with a sharp bounce.

"We're going to die!" Eva screamed, curled up under the blanket. "We're going to die, and all because of a damn stupid errand!"

"Don't say that," Emma replied cheerfully, without taking her eyes off the road. "We also have to buy some flour! And those apples you like!"

"What part of that justifies this suicide attempt?!" Eva roared, her voice cracking between fear and disbelief.

But no one could hear her. Or at least, not her own screams.

Only the roar of the wheels on the mud, the wind biting at her cheeks… and Emma's excited laughter, whipping the reins as if in a life-or-death race.

Because even though Eva screamed, trembled, and clutched the seat as if trying to merge with it…

…the truth was, she never felt more alive.

And she would never forget that day.

…it took years before she could climb into a carriage again without fear.

_______________________________

The carriage squealed loudly to a stop, kicking up a cloud of dust and fallen leaves as the wheels carved rough furrows in the dirt path.

A pair of startled birds took flight from a nearby tree, squawking furiously as if they had been victims of a personal crime.

At the side of the road, a fox silently drinking water darted through the bushes, barely escaping its life.

Emma released the reins with a satisfied smile.

"Here we are!" she announced, raising a fist as if she had won a race.

Eva, for her part, staggered out of the carriage.

Her legs were shaking like jelly, and her eyes were still wide open, clearly dilated.

Her cloak was askew, the Bridal Chest case had ended up sideways on her back, and one of the bandages on her cheek was sticking out of her makeup.

She held onto the side of the carriage for a moment, breathing heavily.

Then she looked at Emma, ​​still sitting in the driver's seat, beaming as if they'd been on a picnic.

"How...?" she murmured, her voice breaking. "How can someone like you... drive a carriage...?"

Emma looked at her with a mixture of pride and innocence.

"What? It wasn't that bad!" she said, stretching out her arms. "We only used one sharp turn, one shortcut, and two inclines."

Technically.

Eva looked at her silently.

And sighed deeply.

"It would have been better if Leah came," she murmured. "At least she's predictably mortal..."

Then she frowned slightly. A twinge of doubt crossed her gaze.

"Did Leah... have something to do this morning?" she asked, struggling to unhook the cane tied to her side.

She didn't notice how, for the briefest moment, Emma's smile faltered.

"She... has something important to do at the mansion," she replied lightly, though her eyes avoided Eva's. "So she couldn't join us this time."

Her smile was still friendly... but not as lively as before.

Eva noticed that small detail.

But she didn't say anything.

Yet.

"No matter, let's go," Emma said, turning with a bright smile and taking a step forward, leaving the carriage behind. "The entrance to the village is nearby. You'll love it, it's a beautiful place."

Eva looked at her with some doubt, but nodded and began to follow her, a few steps behind.

They crossed the small group of trees that marked the edge of the road, and before them appeared the entrance to the village. There was also a sign:

Valdécour. Even the name seemed whispered, as if the place didn't want to shout its existence to the world.

Houses lined both sides of the main street, built of stone and wood aged by time.

A few chimneys sent out thin columns of smoke, while some windows were open to let in the cold breeze.

The sun, still hidden behind gray clouds, bathed everything in a soft light that softened the contours.

Emma, ​​with a confident and natural step, greeted everyone she met.

A boy sweeping the sidewalk greeted her with a shy smile; a woman selling fruit recognized her and winked knowingly; even a couple of elderly people sitting on a bench raised their hands to greet her.

Eva watched them all from a safe distance, trying not to attract too much attention.

However, she felt several gazes resting on her, some curious, others perhaps distrustful.

No one said anything out loud, but the silence was filled with unspoken questions.

She felt that tension in the air, a mixture of cautious respect and strangeness, as if she were a shadow that didn't quite fit into the landscape.

An older woman passed by them and, upon seeing her, paused briefly, tilted her head, and murmured something Eva couldn't quite understand, but which resonated as a cold whisper.

Eva shivered, adjusting the cape covering the bandages on her arms and hands, wanting to disappear behind Emma's warm, open presence.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, giving her a sympathetic look while still smiling.

Eva nodded, though uncertainty still throbbed in her chest.

For a moment, she wondered how long it would take her to get used to those looks, to that silent judgment.

But for now, she decided to just keep walking, clinging to the security Emma offered her.

Without realizing it, her fingers tentatively gripped the hem of the maid's dress.

Emma turned slightly and looked at her in surprise, noticing her uncertain gesture.

Eva blushed and lowered her gaze, feeling a warmth she hadn't expected.

Then, Emma smiled softly and gently drew her to her side with one arm.

"It's okay, you're with me," she whispered, still smiling.

Thus, walking almost shoulder to shoulder, the two continued toward the heart of the village.

_______________________________

Minutes later.

"Oh, Miss Emma!" a man greeted as he saw them approaching his shop. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Good morning, Mr. Matteo," Emma replied with a smile.

"Guess what? The usual?"

Emma nodded without hesitation.

Mr. Matteo approached the counter and picked up a sack of flour, while casting a curious glance toward Eva, who was clinging to Emma's side.

Emma caught his eye and explained:

"She's... Eva, Eva Frankenstein."

"Frankenstein?" The word fell like a strange, heavy echo.

Eva's eyes widened, surprised for the second time that day.

An unpleasant chill ran down her spine and a lump formed in her throat. The wound was still fresh.

Emma continued, in a gentle tone:

"She's the daughter of the master of the manor. Due to health problems, she hasn't been able to get out much, so when she learned I'd be running errands here, she wanted to accompany me to the village."

"Daughter... of messie Victor?" Matteo thought quietly, with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Eva gritted her teeth, her gaze turning somber.

She was about to respond, to explain, perhaps to deny it, but before she could open her mouth, Emma covered her mouth with a hand, gentle but firm.

The silence weighed between them.

Eva felt shame and rejection swirling inside, not knowing what to think or how to feel about that name that was both a bond and a burden.

Emma stared at Eva, as if gauging her reaction. She knew well that being referred to as "Victor's daughter" wasn't easy for her, and yet, she reluctantly accepted the burden.

Eva, with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw, remained silent, unable to decide whether to respond or simply look away.

Mr. Matteo watched them for a moment longer, his expression mingled with sorrow and understanding. With a resigned sigh, he placed the sack of flour on the counter.

"Here you go. Have a good time," he said in a deep voice, avoiding looking directly at Eva.

Emma nodded with a small, forced smile and took the sack.

Then, without another word, she turned to continue shopping, leaving Eva with that mixture of tension and bewilderment sticking to her skin.

Mr. Matteo's reaction seemed to be shared by several of the passersby surrounding them.

A woman gently tugged her son's hand out of the way. Not out of fear. Out of prudence.

They murmured among themselves, with curious and sometimes slightly suspicious glances, upon hearing the name Victor Frankenstein.

The atmosphere became tense, as if the air itself had been burdened with an untold story.

Eva, feeling the pressure, turned to Emma with a frown and asked in a low but firm voice:

"What did Victor do to make everyone react like this?"

Emma looked at her, her expression somewhat uncomfortable.

"Nothing bad... at least nothing he's done here," she answered cautiously. "But he didn't exactly leave a friendly impression the first time he came."

Eva frowned even deeper, incredulous.

"So... why did you say I'm his daughter?" she whispered, almost reproachfully.

Because you are," she said firmly but with a warm gaze. "And even if that doesn't explain everything, it's also part of who you are."

Eva remained silent. Victor's wound was still relatively fresh... and the truth is, she didn't believe it would ever heal.

A struggle between doubt and resentment brewed inside her, and in the end:

Resentment won.

"Never call me that again," she said sharply and curtly.

I look away from the homunculus maid.

Emma said nothing; she just sighed and continued walking in silence.

_______________________________

They continued walking down the town's main street.

People greeted Emma, ​​who responded with her usual warmth, while Eva followed at a slightly slower pace, still deep in thought.

She was still upset and avoided speaking to her.

Suddenly, something flashed in a display case next to her and stopped her.

It was a simple necklace, with a small silver locket hanging delicately on a thin chain.

Eva watched it closely, fascinated by the faint glow it reflected.

Emma noticed her interest and moved closer to her side.

"That's called a locket," she explained with a soft smile. "Usually, a small photo is kept inside, or something that reminds you of someone you love."

Eva tilted her head, gently touching the glass.

"Like an amulet?" she asked, her anger briefly forgotten.

"Something like that," Emma nodded. "In this town, many people wear one to remember their families or for protection."

Eva looked at her for a moment, then her eyes fell back on the locket.

Yes, she remembered now. In her past life, she'd also seen some of these in jewelry stores and—movies?—yes, movies, whatever. Though she never had one of her own.

"It's beautiful..." she murmured, her eyes shining softly.

Emma looked at her fondly.

"Then we'll have it." It will be a good memory for you, and for what you carry inside.

With a small, shy smile, Eva resumed her pace to follow Emma, ​​but this time with a slightly lighter heart.

Emma smiled softly and approached the shop owner.

"How much is that locket?" she asked.

The man answered without hesitation.

"It's not cheap, but for a special lady like you, I can get a good price."

Emma nodded and took out some coins, handing them gently.

She took the locket carefully and returned to Eva.

"Here you are," she said, handing it to her with a warm smile. "I want you to take it with you."

Eva took it with trembling hands, as if holding something fragile and precious.

Emma held the locket close to Eva's chest, as if protecting it.

"It will be a memory that will endure over time," she whispered, "something to accompany you on your journey."

Eva closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of that gesture.

Then she opened her eyes and smiled at him, a little lighter.

Eva cradled the locket to her chest, as if afraid to let go. Her fingers circled it carefully, and a soft—barely perceptible—smile appeared on her lips.

And then something curious happened.

The glances that still followed them from corners, from doorways, or from behind windows began to change.

They were no longer entirely cold.

They were no longer merely judgmental or suspicious.

Some eyes softened. Other brows stopped furrowing.

An older woman even nodded, almost imperceptibly, as if in that gesture she recognized something... human.

After that, the rest of the tour was more peaceful.

Emma guided Eva through the aisles of the small market.

They bought fresh apples from a stand staffed by a freckled young man who stammered when he saw them.

Then they went to get fabrics—one linen and one cotton, both carefully chosen by Emma—and a couple of rolls of fine thread.

Eva stayed close, sometimes speaking quietly, other times just observing, still somewhat unsure... but clearly more relaxed than when they arrived.

_______________________________

The sun was just beginning to set when they returned to the carriage.

The rooftops were already casting long shadows across the streets, and a cooler breeze had picked up, announcing the approaching dusk.

Eva climbed in with more purposeful movements this time, the locket still in her hands.

Emma placed the flour sack with ease, arranged the fabrics in a corner, and then climbed in as well, gently brushing the dust off her apron.

"Ready to go back?" she asked cheerfully.

Eva nodded, gently hugging the locket to her chest.

"Yes. I'm ready."

Emma smiled.

And this time, when she snapped the reins, she did so with less vigor... although her eyes still shone just as brightly as before.

_______________________________

Present moment.

Eva leaned her back against the interior of the carriage, feeling each rattle like a distant echo in her body.

Outside, the landscape passed by, covered in frost. Numb. Silent.

Then, like a reflex, her hand slid slowly toward her chest.

She reached for something.

She touched the void.

Her fingers paused on the fabric… and she felt nothing more.

Nothing.

There was no chain. There was no locket.

And there, the thought came unbidden.

Because I'm leaving it.

A sigh trembled in her chest, brief but profound.

The locket… her first treasure, her second gift from Emma.

It was small, clumsy. Elegant at first glance, but it soon revealed its cheapness. Like so many things in her life.

But it was her.

And yet, she'd left it behind.

"I couldn't keep looking at it."

"Not after..."

She clenched her fist against the cloak, as if trying to make the gap that had remained disappear.

Eva remembered the last time she'd held it in her hands.

The cold of the metal.

The image locked within.

The sensation… as if it were burning.

As if seeing it… destroyed her.

She didn't break it. She didn't throw it away.

She simply closed her eyes… and left it in the first dark corner of the mansion she found.

A silent, cowardly, necessary decision.

Sometimes she thought about going back for it.

Sometimes she hated it for existing.

Sometimes she hated herself for not having the courage to keep it.

And now…

The carriage bucked slightly as it crossed a rock, and Eva blinked.

In the distance, beyond the fogged-up window, she saw the first familiar silhouettes.

The forest was beginning to part.

The dirt road, barely visible through the frost, widened… and the mansion's rusty gate peeped out between the bare trees.

She was coming back. But not like before. And she knew it.

Her fingers slid slowly away from her chest, as if dropping something invisible.

There were no words.

Just that silent lump in my throat that wouldn't go away.

End of Chapter 13

_______________________________

Sorry for the delay. I hope you like it. Reviews and comments are always welcome. Stay tuned, as I'll be editing previous chapters. See you next time.