Nightfall could not hide the magnificence of the approaching envoy. All eyes were transfixed by the four great horses pulling a mighty black carriage. Whatever dark pigments used to achieve the effect must be rather remarkable. It did not resemble black paint so much as a portal into absolute darkness, by which no light was reflected on its dark exterior.
Once arrived, the occupant of the stately carriage stepped down with a deep sigh. The villagers continued to stare—a noble lady, no doubt, whose beautiful dark dress and bodice contrasted brilliantly with her albino-white skin. The magnificent red hair above her shoulders and hat to which a scarlet rose was pinned only added to the dramatic entrance. She regarded the crowd with a certain coolness that was not totally without warmth. And when she spoke, the crowd hung on to her every husky word.
The few guardsmen that accompanied the carriage was hardly an escort of honor. Besides, how had they managed to carve a path through the rebellious areas full of strife and civil war without a brigade of soldiers?
Such questions could be asked later. What mattered now was this ambassadorial envoy had arrived and the great welcome feast would shortly begin.

"You should know that marrying me has a cost you may not want to pay in the fullness of time..." The Count loved speaking in such riddles. His wise manner and deep voice seemed out-of-place for his youthful appearance.
"I will go to the ends of the earth with you." Sophia gazed lovingly at the handsome man across from her, not a shred of doubt in her voice.
She had cast aside all rumors when pursuing him. His pallid-white face that never seemed to see the sun was no obstacle either. Instead, she loved his rosy red lips, the cultured hands that excited her so much when they tapped her on the shoulder, and his dark eyes full of mystery.
In the end Sophia obtained the prize that she wanted: marriage to the Count and a new life as his Countess. She didn't want to spoil the occasion of their magnificent wedding by questioning why the ceremony and banquet had to be conducted at night, nor the strangeness of the enormous crowd of new faces, odd music, and reliance on candlelight. She was with her husband now. She was determined to overlook anything else.
If Sophia had not been head over heels for the Count, she might have taken the time to reflect on the peculiar absence of mirrors in his villa or why she never saw any of his friends during the day. Nor did she seem to notice the eerie smiles, the grins from ear to ear that lit up guests' faces from out of the corner of her eyes.
Truly Sophia's heart had chosen for her that night. And this decision could never be changed.

The village's troubles began only a few hours after Countess Sophia's arrival.
The town had taken in an enormous number of vagabonds, refugees, and miscreants in recent years, but had placed them all outside the city limits and the protection of the law. This camp meant to give hope to the hopeless was ruled by an iron-fisted, cruel man. His abuses seemed to imply he had forgotten that at one point he had been a refugee himself. He used the camp's disorder to work with rebels from outside for his and their enrichment.
The only thing the sentry saw in the fading light was a strange rose on the wind. But he had no time to marvel. As soon as the rose touched his skin, he stumbled. And then, shaking and shivering, stood up again and walked with dogged determination into the center of camp.
Soon after the entire camp, was wakened by the screams of horses and people fleeing from fire within. But only the veterans recognized the true nature of their emergency—the horrible crackling of fire intermingled with swords slicing flesh. The fire raged long and hard that night. Barely any of the camp remained next morning.
Shortly before sunrise, the lady in black who had so enchanted the crowds walked out. No one saw her. She still had in her eyes the same cruelty, yet somehow her makeup was also smudged by red tears streaming down her cheeks. She was holding the rose, the source of so much trouble. The red-blood of the rose was a fine match for what it had wrought that night. It glowed eerily.

Immortality is the greatest punishment ever visited upon mortal-kind.
Endless life seems to provide the freedom to wait and to hope—to live adventurously and love boldly.
But who will be there for you after inevitability takes away all the wonderfulness that you have so carefully crafted?
You will soon learn to recognize the passions of your mortal body for what they truly are: daggers meant to strike your heart when most vulnerable.
Everyone on this journey begins by a different road, but all roads lead to the same destination.
Get used to seeing everyone you once loved taken by Father Time.
And then you too will be taken—that is, your glorious radiant heart that lives and loves and overflows with passion.


So goes the author's famous introduction to immortality from the adventure novel "Four Hundred Years of Solitude". Derided by some prominent town critics as "so much trash", it is hard to deny his realistic treatment of immortality's consequences stirred the imaginations of many readers.
The alleged inspiration for this novel? A chance meeting between author, governor, and a mysterious Countess Sophia.

• Hero Roulette