How was this possible? I found myself standing right across from the woman my father spoke so fondly of in his journal and yet made no mention of romantic involvement with her. She, however, claimed to be my step mother. Was I being lied to? Higgins had said that my father never stopped loving my mother despite keeping himself away from us. For over twenty years before she died. Someone wasn’t telling me the truth.
“I understand that may be a shock to you,” said Duchess Chanel. She stood across from Anabel, Stephanie, and I with her hands clasped in front of her. Nothing about her came off as nefarious so I suppose I should hear her out. She continued, “I don’t suppose there was any mention of our relationship in that journal, because your father probably didn’t want to further tarnish the image you had of him already. But the truth is, he really did love your mother. He just could never bring himself to bring her into the fold of your family's ordeal. I however, was very much already in the fold. What with the incident that took place here in Canvas all those years ago.”
“But what about Higgins?” I asked, “You know him as well and he never mentioned anything about you. He was my fathers most trusted ally.”
“That’s true. I knew Higgins well. But your father kept our relationship a secret even from him. It hurt him dearly to have to hide it. But he had always told Higgins that someday he’d go get you and your mother and bring them to England. It was a someday that never came. Because his enemies only grew in number and became more dangerous. First, it was here, then it was Brasshaven. Josephine took a toll on her world that probably haunted your father to his grave. And as I’m sure you’re aware by now, Synthetica was equally a difficult situation. In fact, it was only after he got word of your mothers death that he could even bring himself to come and elope with me.”
It all made sense. Every negative thought I’d ever had about my old man up until had been washed away by the explanation of the circumstances. This had been no different. He really must have been a good man to sacrifice the way he did.
Chanel’s soft face turned to sadness as she added, “I really hope you don’t harbor any ill feelings towards me. But I understand if you do.”
“Oh, no,” I assured, “I don’t hold anything against you. You wouldn’t be the first person I knew to be caught in a love triangle,” I joked, as I looked back at Anabel and Stephanie. “But I have to ask…are you aware of what happened to my father?”
“You mean his illness? Yes. He came to visit me before he went back to Synthetica and told me his plans for allowing himself to be synthesized so that he could take control of the central nervous system. He told me it would be the last time I would see him. But he left me a gift. Please, come with me.”
The girls and I followed Chanel down one of the corridors that led to the rotunda. She stopped in front of a painting. It was a self portrait of my father! Exceptionally life-like.
She explained, “As you may already know from the journal, certain people are born to be skilled artists in this world, known as Craftsmen. They can create works of art that can literally be visited by tourists. Your father was one of those Craftsmen. His final gift to me was to create a space where an exact replica of himself before death could exist.”
“Unreal! So you can actually go in there and visit him?”
“Yes. And I do sometimes. But only sometimes. You see, there's a catch to these works of art. If someone spends too much time in a world, they forget they are inside of a fabrication and the world becomes real to them. It makes it harder to leave. I knew that this replica he left me wasn’t the real him so I didn’t want to become too entranced by our visits. My job is to stay out here and curate the other works of art. You can call that my burden.”
I thought about all she told me for a moment before asking, “The Devil of this world. What happened to him? I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around how someone could be a danger to the world at large when they are literally off in their own world.” Chanel smirked and said, “A fine question. Come this way.”
The girls and I followed her even further down the corridor until we got to another painting. This one was far different than the others I had seen. It was a tempestuous storm or black clouds and lightning. You could feel the darkness emanating from inside the painting. The name of the piece was written on a small placard below that said only, ‘Nightmare’.
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The Duchess explained, “The last Devil of this world was also a Craftsman. He created this art piece. Unbeknownst to the other denizens of this world, he had nefarious intentions. Once he went into his own world, he got carried away and created pure evil. Those who came to visit the world were trapped and could never leave.”
“But isn’t that just a self imposed quarantine? Why not warn others not to visit and leave it at that?” I asked.
“That’s what we did. Until the evil became so strong it could no longer be contained by the world he had created. After a while, the Nightmare began to seep out into other Craftsmens dreamscapes. Starting with these two, and then those four, and so on and so on. Finally, your father and Higgins dared to go into the Nightmare themselves. It took several attempts, but eventually, they were able to vanquish the creator and the evil stopped its spread. In fact, without the original Craftsman, you could visit that world now without fear of it spreading again.
Though I wouldn't recommend it.”
“Yeah, no thanks. I’m good,” I replied, “So why can’t the paintings just be destroyed or sealed up?”
“Because only the original Craftsman can alter a world. Anyone can experience a world, but only the creator can alter it.”
“Wow. It’s like a microcosm of the worlds you can visit through the well,” I noted.
“Indeed it is. But enough about such tragedies. I believe you came for rest and relaxation?”
“Well, not for me actually. My friends here. Anabel and Stephanie. They just got married and I thought it’d be a good excuse to come visit this world to take them to pick out a honeymoon spot.”
“Ah! Wonderful! Congratulations!”
“”Thank you,”” said the girls, simultaneously.
Chanel led us along and said, “I have a number of suggestions, depending on what it is you're looking for.”
“Honestly,” Stephanie chimed in, “Just something private. We don’t need an elaborate vacation. We just want some time to experience each other without a lot of other people around.”
“Sure. Then might I suggest, ‘Garden of Eden’?” she pointed towards a painting of a lush jungle scape and explained, “It’s a paradise of nature where clothing is not only optional, they don’t exist. But not to worry, most people find that world to be rather boring, so very rarely are there more than one set of visitors at a time.”
She led us further and waved her hand towards another painting and said, “Or perhaps you require less discreet but more traditional. This is ‘Treasure Trove Cove’, an island paradise. Of course, the waters away from the mainland are shark infested, but the cove itself is perfectly safe. There’s snorkeling, treasure hunts, giant sand castles to explore, and pirate ship rides!” The painting had a large arching mountain over a bay with a lighthouse on top. Ocean appeared to surround the island for miles.
“That sounds delightful!” said Anabel.
“Yeah! I could go for that!” Concurred Stephanie.
Chanel smiled and said, “Excellent! Then I won’t even bother suggesting ‘Frosty Village’ for those who prefer the colder climates for their getaways.”
“Hmm, so how do we go into the world?” Stephanie asked with furrowed brows.
“Simple. Just simply walk up to the painting and step inside. The canvas is malleable.
Make sure to watch your step though, the frame isn’t.”
I interrupted, “There’s no danger for them to be entranced during their visit and forget to leave is there?”
“Oh no,” she assured, “If they’re only visiting for four or five days then they will be well within the limits of maintaining their groundings in reality. Besides, part of my duties as curator is to ensure that visitors leave their chosen worlds from time to time. Of course, if that’s what they wish. There are those who decide to take permanent residency. But when you’re ready to leave, simply return to the place you entered from. You’ll be able to see your way back here to the galleria. However, any local residence of the world won’t be able to it since they are assets of the painting itself.”
“Well, we won’t be doing that,” Stephanie joked, “It’s up to us to come back and make sure your stepson is well taken care of.”
“Good to know,” Chanel smiled.
“Alright, girls. You ready to go in?” I asked.
Both of them nodded and then gave me a little hug before approaching the painting for ‘Treasure Trove Cove.’ They both held hands as they hesitated for a moment. Stephanie gripped their travel bag with her other hand as she stepped forward. A ripple flowed through the painting from her point of entry all the way to the top. Both of them took a step forward and disappeared into the world.
I stood there alone with Chanel. She asked, “Well, now that we’re alone, I must ask, did you wish to speak with your father while you were here?”
I turned to her and responded, “While I appreciate the gesture and I certainly think a time will come where I will want to, right now I just have a lot of mental clutter. But don’t worry. I actually spoke with him, well, a replica of him, when I was in Synthetica.”
“Really?!”
“Yes. He wasn’t sure if he was the real him or not but the remnants of him projected itself in a holographic form to me. I never thought there would be another opportunity to meet with him. So don’t worry, I’m sure when the time is right I will come back here and take you up on it.”
“Of course. Whenever you’re ready, Eric.”
Duchess Chanel and I said our goodbyes and she assured me once more that she would see to it that Anabel and Stephanie safely made it back home. In the meantime, I returned to a house with only Emily and Delilah awaiting me.