The Universal Passenger Book 1. Someone Else

“It looks that way, doesn’t it? He wakes up in the middle of the night and starts drawing frantically. Once, he painted the girl’s hair in bright red. I’m starting to get anxious. That’s why I brought him here. Though the girl was so sensual, just beautiful. A bright spot in a gray world.”

“The self-love of the Kallidus is also not to be underestimated.”

“Excuse me, you haven’t introduced yourself,” Constantin called out to Sophia, interrupting the guide’s tirade, but (to his fortune) unaware of it.

“Sophia. Sophia Ryoskin,” the girl replied and turned to him. “Beautiful drawing, you have a vivid imagination.”

“Do you think so? Sometimes I wish the girl in the drawing would finally touch her companion, but I feel like the time hasn’t come yet,” Constantin hesitated, as if shy about his drawing.

“And I hope it won’t come,” the Guide scoffed.

“Do you mind if I take the drawing?” Sophia asked. “It’s just so unusual.”

“Of course, I have plenty of them,” Constantin hesitated for a moment. “Tell me, how long will I be here?”

“No, there’s no need for that. Panic attacks aren’t uncommon these days. I’ll schedule follow-up appointments to monitor your progress. Otherwise, you can return to your normal life.”

“Thank you. I have an exhibition tomorrow. It’s nothing spectacular, but maybe – will you come?”

She looked at Constantin, who couldn’t stop smiling at her. Sophia hadn’t planned on establishing a connection with him so quickly.

“Yes, of course. Write the time and address on the back of the paper. You already have a pencil.”

Constantin laughed and, with a victorious expression, jotted down the address.

“Well, I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow, make sure to come.”

“Yes, definitely come. Otherwise, we’ll come after you ourselves,” the guide teased.

“Excuse me. How did you say it’s pronounced? Von?” Sophia turned back as she was leaving the room.

“Van. Constantin Van,” he replied.

“Elizabeth. You can call me Libby,” the Guide muttered.

* * *

Sophia arrived early at the designated spot on the paper. Ephors always had a habit of doing everything perfectly, and being late was unacceptable for them. She wanted to speed up the process of connecting with this person and resolve the issue at hand. Adjusting the mirror in the car, she touched up her lips with a soft peach color and made sure she hadn’t smeared her mascara. Sophia preferred a gentle, everyday makeup look, despite her bright and quite attractive appearance (with wavy light brown hair and dark, thick eyebrows) not needing any additional highlights. But Sophia didn’t want to stand out or draw attention to herself among the crowd.

At the exhibition, as with any other event, she chose a refined outfit. A black blazer, a black silk dress, and black high-heeled pumps. For accessories, she opted for emerald stud earrings and a thin titanium ring on her pinky.

Stepping out of the car, Sophia decided to take a look around. The studio was located not far from the main street, but it was hidden from passersby by winding alleys and iron staircases. The brick building, in the spirit of the old town, seemed to say "new things are born here, but the old is honored."

The iron door creaked open with a heavy groan, and Constantin stepped into the light. He was wearing a green checkered shirt with rolled-up sleeves, worn dark jeans, sneakers, and a few strokes of paint on his wrist.

“What delicate hands he has,” Ephor noted.

“Sophia! I didn’t think you were so punctual. There’s still an hour until the opening,” Van said a bit flustered but his eyes showed joy.

“Yes, I can’t help myself. It’s probably a professional habit,” she shrugged.

“Well, everything is almost ready. Please, come in,” Constantin invited her.

Everything inside was just as Sophia had imagined. A well-lit space, with light streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and walls sconces. Gray loft-style walls and a long dark chocolate leather Chesterfield sofa sat in the middle of the room by the bar, waiting for its guests.

“This used to be a glass factory,” Constantin said, standing beside her and surveying the studio. “When the factory closed, I was able to buy the space cheaply and customize it for myself. As a bonus, I used leftover glass to update the stained glass windows and create a wall in the shower.”

“In the shower?” she exclaimed in surprise.

“Yes, I live here on the second floor. I don’t stray far from work, so to speak.”

“Interesting approach. What is today’s exhibition dedicated to?” Sophia asked.

“Inspiration at night,” Van replied. “That’s why I started at sunset, so visitors can transition smoothly from evening to night, noticing new details in the drawings.”

“Do you prefer to create at night?”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough daylight to express the depth of my thoughts on the canvas. That’s why I harness the night with its endless supply of ideas and possibilities. Under the light of the lamps, my drawings take on a completely different meaning and energy – something that can’t be captured during the day.”

Constantin gestured around the studio with a sense of parental pride.

“He’s still trying to hold on to his dreams,” Libby sighed, lounging provocatively on the sofa. “Last night, he jumped up as if scalded and started drawing twins.”

“Twins?” Sophia asked aloud.

“You have a good eye,” Constantin smirked. “This piece is brand new; I literally painted it last night. What do you think?”

He led her to the painting, which depicted two girls holding hands. It might have seemed unremarkable, except for the fact that he had painted them as albinos.

“That’s not all,” Constantin said proudly. “When the sun starts to set, we’ll definitely come back to this piece.”

Sophia glanced warily at the sofa, where Libby lay with her tail draped over her shoulders like a shawl.

“Well, what did I tell you? At this rate of progress, I’ll be sent back and demoted,” she sighed.

As the sun set, Sophia was surprised to see how many people had arrived. Men and women of different ages gradually filled the hall. The bartender, who had arrived half an hour before opening, was already mixing drinks, entertaining the guests with his skilled hands.

Sophia ordered a martini, noticing that it was a popular choice among the women, and slowly walked around the studio, trying to find something to hold onto in her search for a solution. The task was indeed no easy feat.

Over the centuries, the Ephor had encountered various opponents. There were bankers, soldiers, circus performers, stablehands, and plantation slaves. But they all shared one common experience: they had endured a profound shock that began to return their memories of past lives.

Now, however, the situation was different. According to available information, Constantin had grown up in a well-off family, comfortable and well-cared-for. He had done well in school and hadn’t lacked attention. Thanks to Libby, he possessed a strong charisma. He wasn’t afraid of moving, and any task seemed easily manageable to him. He wasn’t prone to depression. So what could have triggered such a rapid return of memory? That was what she needed to find out.

Continuing to walk through the space, Sophia tried her best not to pay attention to the other guides. There were many of them, and they quickly recognized her as an Ephor, but to their credit, they didn’t bombard her with questions. Some glanced at Libby with sympathy. Rumors in High Society spread as quickly as they did among ordinary people.

One by one, the paintings captured Sophia’s attention. The chaos in Constantin’s mind was skillfully reflected in his art-house works. To grasp the depth of his creative ideas, she had to scrutinize every detail, missing nothing.

In one painting, a young girl with enormous light blue eyes was depicted. Gold leaf adorned her eyebrows, and her long white lashes seemed to reach for it. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow through the canvas. A teacup rested atop a significant portion of her head, with her ear forming the handle of the cup. She was completely naked, modestly covered in strategic places by steam rising either from the saucer in her hands or from her own skin.