Damien was attacked by his bullies. He used his knife to fight back. In a panic, he ran away from them and was chased to the forest by the bullies. That’s when Damien blacked out. That’s when the bullies were killed.
Some hours later, Aubrey found out about him going missing and tried to find him. She found his bag, the knife and the bloodstains. She followed the blood trail to the forest and came across the bodies of the bullies. Worried for him, she tried to find him herself, not thinking to tell anybody.
The next morning, she found him unconscious in the forest. What happened between Damien blacking out and then, nobody knew.
Sophia had nothing to do with it.
Victor Halliday called in sick.
That was the story they told. Aubrey had to constantly explain why she so stupidly and uncharacteristically went looking for her missing friend, through the night, after seeing two dead bodies. Damien had to repeat that, whatever happened in the forest, he didn’t know. He was most likely drugged, but why he was drugged and the bullies killed was still a mystery.
Their decision to make something up was barely a decision. After everything Aubrey had seen and she knew was real, she just had to keep quiet about it. It was Victor who convinced her. He explained to her that, because they knew so much, they’d put themselves at risk if they spoke.
The witness accounts on the news were surface level things – people with fire. What she, Damien and Sophia knew was far deeper. They knew about their hidden dimensions. They knew where they were. They knew the little details that threatened the centuries old secrecy of the demons. If the demons knew who knew, they’d make sure the knowledge died with the people holding it.
Nobody at the school learnt of Damien going missing and no questions were asked when he got back. It was only one night, albeit the longest night of his life.
“If you ever have to walk home again, tell me. I’ll drive you home,” Aubrey said.
“That’s unnecessary,” Damien said.
“Unnecessary my ass! You almost died just because you had to walk home.”
“It says here that demons and angels aren’t directly defined by evil and good,” Sophia said, “Whether one is a demon or an angel depends on the connotations of their powers. For example, fires and storms are destructive and considered evil. Therefore, those possessing the associated powers are demons. Water and healing are considered good. Therefore, those possessing the associated powers are angels. A flaw in this is that the connotations of the powers are not always correct. It depends on the use of the powers. Demons can use fire to light the way and warm others and sometimes a storm is needed or water the land. Some angels have been known to use their healing powers to raise the dead rather than maintain the living. The general term for those possessing powers is ‘The Ascended.’”
Sophia passed the book to Aubrey. The book held sketches of epic battles between The Ascended that were famous in all pocket dimensions. “Where did you get that?” Damien asked.
“Aubrey and I got it from mister Halliday. He says he has a lot of them at home.”
Damien sat with his cheek resting against his fist and looked at the palm of his other hand.
“I wonder if religions are just points of view on this demon stuff,” Aubrey said, “I mean, when somebody says ‘ascended’ I think ‘Jesus’ ascension.’ It’s not a very everyday-word. It stands out to me.”
Damien made slight movements in his fingers. He could feel every little contraction. He felt the blood flow through them. He could feel the subtle vibrations and the rubbing of the blood against the lining of his veins. He knew that if he held up a finger he could make a lighter flame on the tip, but he didn’t. He wasn’t interested in doing that. The thought of it didn’t impress him, it was nothing new.
“Woah. What’s this?”
Aubrey and Sophia leaned into the book. A page filled line-by-line with symbols was taped down. “An ancient script that few people can read, telling of the highest ascension in life,” Aubrey read the caption at the bottom of it. On the page next to it was the translation to English. “Do you think mister Halliday can read this?” Sophia asked.
“We should ask him when we see him,” Aubrey said.
Damien wasn’t interested in anything they said. They weren’t boring, but the topic didn’t interest him. He felt like a man sitting between two children discovering something that was common knowledge to him. He couldn’t match the energy of their excitement. He focussed on the hypersensitivity within his hands.
Aubrey placed the book down in front of Damien. “I think you’ll make better use of this than any of us… Did you know that the house was in a pocket dimension?”
Damien looked up from his hand, lifted his head and sat up straight.
“Of course, I didn’t.”
Sophia looked at Damien over-sympathetically. He looked at her and he could see how caring she was about it. The familiarity he felt when he met her flared up for a second and then vanished. He looked back at Aubrey.
“Do you have any memories that explain why you’re the only one who can open the gate?”
“No. Not yet at least.” He felt frustrated. He hated thinking about it too much. The more he thought, the less he knew, the worse he felt. The memories made him feel clueless enough.
“Mister Halliday said that it was locked by something. Do you have any memories of the house?”
“Again, no. Not yet.”
“Do you—”
Sophia tapped Aubrey’s shoulder lightly with the back of her hand. “Stop interrogating him.”
Sophia seemed to understand…
“I’m just curious! Only demons who understand gates can open a gate, right? I’m just saying we’ve been going there for a few years now. Somehow you have been unknowingly opening the gate, which means that this demon thing has started a long time ago.”
“If it helps, the place was alive,” Damien said.
“What do you mean?”
“I could sense it. The pocket dimension spoke to me. It’s like a random thought pops into your head. You can’t separate it from a normal thought, but you know it’s talking to you.”
“So if it’s alive then it just welcomed you in? I wonder why. Maybe in your past life, you were the one who made it. That means you were a medieval demon.”
“What?”
“The house is medieval. Or maybe not, but we all agree that it’s super old? If you have something to do with it, then it means that in your past life you were living among knights on horses and sword fights and stuff.”
That made sense to him. That was a dream, wasn’t it?, he thought.
The bell rang. Aubrey and Sophia picked up their bags to go to their tutor classes. “See you later,” Aubrey said. She was quick out of the class, but Sophia was still putting the bag on her back. She stood and looked at Damien, and he looked back at her.
“... Are you okay?” she asked.
Damien could feel her see through him. He was just being his usual quiet. He wasn’t making it obvious. Something about her made him feel exposed. The way she looked at him, the fact that she didn’t rush to leave and just the way she asked him if he was okay, made him feel like a flower blooming to reveal its truth… to her.
“Ja. I’m fine,” he said and nodded.
She didn’t believe him, but she wouldn’t force it out of him. “Take care of yourself,” she said. Why did she say that? The familiarity flared up and mixed with the feeling of collapse. He wanted to break down, right there in the art class, right then at the start of school. She looked down at him and her gaze felt like a spotlight of safety. “And talk to me if you need to.” She tightened the straps of her backpack and walked out.
After all that happened, you’re still here… He heard a distant thought, too far away to be his own.
He sensed a non-existent connection between them pull taut as she left. He wanted to pull on it like a rope and bring her back. If he weren’t at school, if he were somewhere more private, he would have been in tears. Damien didn’t fully understand why, but he was at school and he didn’t feel like dealing with it yet.
He took a deep breath.
He held the book in both hands and looked at the cover. It was just a leather covered book. No title or author. It was most likely somebody’s personal journal, telling the story of their journey into the new world and changing of perspective. He tucked the book under his shoulder and walked to his class.
He sat down at his desk and turned to the page of symbols. Although most of what Sophia and Aubrey buzzed about wasn’t much to him, there was something about the term, “highest ascension,” that captured his interest. Looking at the symbols started an engine in the back of his mind that ran to help him understand it. The symbols weren’t letters used to form words. Each symbol was a sentence on its own that couldn’t be read with the eyes. Each symbol was a box for the voice of thought of the writer and each one was made as a visual representation of the thought.
Damien knew this. He had to connect with the symbols. He traced his fingers over each line. There was a warmth in each symbol. Damien was tempted to read the translation, but he wanted to read it for himself.
He felt roots grow out of his finger and he pulled it off the page. He looked at his fingertip. The symbols had tried to suck him into the story. It was an overly exciting thing to do in class, but he didn’t have anything better to do.
He hovered his finger over the first symbol. The heat of it tried to lure it down into the depths of the pages. Damien pressed his finger down onto the page and the roots jutted deep into the story.
Through his finger tip, Damien’s mind and imagination fed on the story that was told. He closed his eyes and felt the awe of meeting one of the highest Ascended and he thought the thoughts of the writer. He knew what the writer knew because, through symbols, the writer shared a fragment of his mind and knowledge.
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Gods
Immortals
Governors of the universe’s laws
The maintenance of balance
Servants of the universe
Messengers for the universe
Roamers of time and space
Eternity
The thoughts meant nothing without the context - the basic instinctive understanding of The Ascended. Damien lifted his finger from the page. He understood. He understood the power of the highest ascended, but rather than feeling any respect or wonder for it he felt resentment.
______
“Yes, I can read ancient scripts, but it’s not as simple as learning a language,” Victor said, “You don’t read it. You connect with it and it talks to you.”
“How do you connect with it?” Aubrey asked.
“I’ve been doing it for a while now so I do it by intention alone. I forgot the steps. Anyway, everybody’s writing is personalised. Just about every demon has their own way of writing. They write and then they store their thoughts in the text. Some demons are very secretive and encrypt their thoughts. Because of that, you need to be able to do more than connect to the symbols. You need to be able to undo the distortion of the thoughts inside it.”
“And you can do this?”
“As I said, it’s not as simple as learning a language. You have to figure it out each time you read it.”
Aubrey nodded and looked around, trying to think of another question.
“Why are demons secretive? Why don’t they want people to know they exist?”
“I explained this to you. It’s a lawless world. A separate one. People use it to get away.”
“And no demon has ever thought to themselves ‘You know what, I want to rule the world’?”
“I’m sure plenty of demons think that, but there’s always a stronger demon who disagree with them and takes them out before they can do anything.”
“What do you do as a demon?” Sophia asked, “Are you trying get away from law and civilisation? Is it just for fun?”
“Not just for fun. There’s a whole new world and if you dig deep enough you can learn about treasures and secrets.”
“You’re a treasure hunter?!” Aubrey asked loudly.
Victor looked at his class, hoping nobody heard and fortunately nobody did.
“Pretty much.”
“When was your last treasure hunt?”
“Long time ago.” About a month ago, probably.
“Did you stop?”
“Yes.” No.
“Why?”
“I got bored of it.” Where’s the bell when you need it?
“How does that get boring? It sounds awesome!”
The bell rang.
Finally.
“Eventually you see the same thing over and over again.” Biggest lie I ever told. “Now get to your first lesson.”
Aubrey and Sophia left the class. Because of Aubrey, Victor had to think about his drug of choice again. After his destructive relapse the previous week, he’d spent a lot of effort stopping himself from seeking thrill, but chasing Damien helped. He’d have to wean himself off of it, and it seemed that Damien was the start.
Because those who don’t do, teach. And those who teach, don’t do.
“Do you think he likes me?”
“I think mister Halliday’s more into pale, gothic, British demon ladies. Sorry.”
“What?! Ew no! I meant Damien!”
“C’mon. Mister Halliday isn’t that bad.”
“Aubrey, that is disgusting. He is a teacher.”
“Trust me, I can say thirstier shit.”
“... Anyway...”
“Oh right, Damien. Honestly, I don’t know what he thinks about you. We’ve been friends for years and it’s still hard to know what he’s thinking or feeling without him telling me. When he doesn’t want you to know something, you won’t even suspect it. But, he likes having you around. That much I know.”
Sophia sighed and Aubrey looked at her.
“Don’t waste your time wondering if he does,” she said. “Just let him know. Ask him to the matric dance even.”
“He doesn’t seem like he likes dancing.”
“He doesn’t, but he’s nerdy as shit. He never gives a yes-no answer. If he likes you, he’ll give a long-ass answer on how he likes you but hates dancing more.”
“Oh. Then maybe I’ll ask him.”
“Take your time. I don’t think anybody else is going to ask him and he definitely doesn’t have options.”
______
Architecture
Locks
Genius
Stitching
The universe wasn’t born with pocket dimensions attached to it. They were built onto it and sometimes already existing ones were sewn into the universe. Damien tried to understand how one was built. He could read the steps to it, but each step had many steps in themselves. It was too complex for him to understand. The book had a lot to tell. It built onto his knowledge, filled gaps in his knowledge and revealed things his memories didn’t tell him.
Damien tucked the book under his shoulder. It was interesting but it felt like an insignificant distraction. He felt that he knew better than what the book knew, even if the book knew more than him. All he had to do was spend time with his memories, but all his memories showed were the faces of the people he killed.
Is that all there was in my past life? Killing?
Walking down the corridor, he heard Victor call his name from his class. “Yes sir?” he said and walked in. Damien knew the face of fear across its entire spectrum. He saw something from the low-end of it flicker over Victor’s face when he walked in - a sudden wide stutter of the eyelids; a quick flash of teeth; a quiet sigh that Damien could hear even from the door. Victor wasn’t scared, but that instant of will-he-won’t-he was enough for some anxiety.
That instant passed. Damien was in the class standing face-to-face with mister Halliday.
“How are you feeling?” Victor asked.
“I’m feeling fine.”
“And the memories?”
“The same stuff.”
“Just the faces?”
“And before. It’s not just pictures of the bloody faces. It’s before they were bloody and how I made it bloody.”
Victor nodded. “Tell me if anything strange happens. Any strange feelings or memories that trigger something.”
“I will.”
“Are you enjoying the book?”
Damien took it out from under his arm and looked at it. “It’s interesting, but I think I know most of it,” Damien said politely and handed the book to Victor. Victor took the book and let Damien go.
Damien didn’t seem bothered by the violent thoughts. That worried Victor. The things Leech said came into his head. He didn’t like the thought that Damien would have to suffer because of something out of his control and when he arrived home he was able to discuss it with her.
The pale woman stood at his front door and glared at him as he pulled into his driveway. She wore a puffy bomber jacket with a fleecy hoodie.
“What a coincidence that you’re here when I’m worrying about the boy,” he said as he got out of his car. She said nothing and kept her glare. When he got to the front door with his keys in hand she decided to speak. “I’ve been freezing here for the past hour, Victor. You’re going to let me in and make me a cup of coffee,” she said in a polite, but entitled tone.
“Leech, it’s not like I asked you to come here.”
“I assumed you were a punctual person, Victor.”
“I don’t have a sign on my door that says what time I’m open. This isn’t a shop.”
“Then for the sake of your gentlemanly personality, let me in and make me coffee.”
“You want a four-course meal too?”
“I won’t stop you.” She gave a bright and sarcastic smile.
Victor opened the door and let her walk in first. “You’re here to talk about Damien?” he asked.
“Well I’m definitely not here for fun. And you said that you’re thinking about him too.”
“I am. He’s having memories of people he killed. I don’t think it’s good for him.” He walked to the kitchen and Leech followed.
“That’s because it’s not, Victor. The retrieval of memories means his past self is catching up with him. And if he’s retrieving memories of the people he killed, which part of his past-self do you think he’s getting, exactly?”
Victor turned on his kettle and took out two mugs and spoons. “What do you want me to do, Leech?”
“Kill him. As soon as you can. You’re the only person close enough to him and capable of doing it.”
“Damn it I’m not killing a child!”
“Then we’ll burn as he turns this planet into hell… and I’m not just scared because of his power. You know I’ve been around for a long time.”
“Ja ja we all know you’ve been alive since the dinosaurs.”
“Stop toying with me. That boy’s presence spans to the edges of the Earth and over.”
“Do you still believe the Earth is flat?”
“Victor. Shut. Up,” she said sternly. She looked him dead in the eyes. Victor knew her. Most of the time you could joke with her; she was as careless as demons tended to be. Other times you needed to listen to her and listen well.
“If this boy’s power is so blatantly obvious to the world, why is this the first time I’ve ever felt it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he was cloaking his energy.” He put teaspoons of coffee and sugar into their cups.
“He’s not a demon that wants to be hidden. He’s a demon that wants to be known. He’s a demon that wants to induce fear in everything.”
“What’s your point?”
“Where did he live his previous life?”
Victor thought, but wasn’t too intrigued. He poured milk into both of their cups, putting a bit more into hers than his.
Then he looked at her and his face slowly turned shocked and confused. He knew Damien was an anomaly of a demon, but he never fully thought about the possible implications of what they knew of him. Any powerful demon would have a story in a library, a medieval song about a dragon and at the very least a San painting in a cave. Victor never read anything on a demon like Damien. He hadn’t read all the books there were, but a book about a pseudo-god should be popular. Damien was some sort of… alien among the demons.
“He isn’t the reincarnation of a demon from our world. He’s a reincarnation from a different universe and reincarnations don’t work like that… Reincarnations don’t work like that, Victor.”
“Why’s that a problem?”
“Do you know the stories of the gods who removed dangerous demons from their universe and locked them away in a pocket dimension?”
“I do.”
“I think a god sent that boy here for that reason.”
“But we’re not in a pocket dimension. We’re in a universe.”
“A pocket dimension isn’t strong enough to trap a demon like that, even if it’s cut off from its base world. It’s man made. This universe is nature’s construct and even if he does break out of it, he can’t go anywhere. For all we know, we’re in the god’s least favourite universe so he sent the boy here to scrap us and then die.”
“That’s a stretch.”
“But it makes sense, Victor! If that boy is Armageddon waiting to happen, now is your best chance to kill him because he’s only going to get stronger.”
Victor looked at her and then looked down at the table. He could sense Damien everywhere he went. His presence wasn’t threatening, but it was far-reaching. Everything with the nose for it knew where he was. If his presence did become threatening, that was a world’s worth of demons thrown into the blender that was Damien in retaliation.
The kettle clicked when it was done and broke the silence. Victor filled both cups, stirred, and gave Leech her cup first before taking his. She sipped from it and smirked.
“You made coffee for me once and still remember how to do it perfectly,” she said.
“I remember stuff easily when I’m in… the situation that I was in.”
Leech laughed.
“What? In case you forgot, I was young and stupid at one point.”
“And look at you now. The big disciplined man who hunts for treasure and deals with the naughty boys of the pocket dimensions.”
Victor smiled, sipped from his cup and sighed. “Damien’s going to be fine,” he said. It sounded a bit like forced optimism and like he was trying to convince himself rather than her. He believed in the possibility, but his confidence in its likelihood was bare.
“He doesn’t seem to be threatened by me anymore. If I can give him an understanding of his powers and how to control it, I think he’ll be fine.”
Leech nodded lightly. “So hopeful,” she said, “You really are a teacher.”