Asterius lets the Weave of Fate unravel once more, watches silently as the strings fade back out of sight. The silvery blue thread that winds around him and Cadeyrn takes the longest to fade, both of them avoid looking at it.
“I understand your anger master,” Cadeyrn says softly, fists clenched at his sides, pointedly looking away from Asterius, “but that was reckless. Your connection to the weave was damaged when Sanctus forced it from you.”
It’s easier to fight down the shiver at hearing that name now. He knows Cadeyrn is right, it was incredibly stupid of him to summon the weave. Everything ached before, but now he feels like one giant bruise, a faint itching buzz humming just under his skin, like little ants filling his bones. But he needed this, reconnecting with the Weave helped. It was a stark reminder that he was alive, that this world was alive. That there was more than just his pain and fear and the dark corners of the house. He might only be here as a tool of the System, but that didn’t mean he needed to live like a puppet.
[Host is not a tool.] The System reads, edges shaking as though it's angry, [System agrees Host was stupid and a little mean, but not a tool.]
It’s strangely nice to hear, but he’s not letting the System off the hook that easily (even if he did kind of miss talking to it, it was the only thing he could be his real self with anymore.)
Cadeyrn sighs and turns around, facing back towards the house, “It's getting late master, let's head back inside.”
Asterius really doesn’t want to do that. He’s surprised by how much he genuinely likes it out here. He had never really been in a garden before, having been raised in a city all his life. The house would just be more silence and overbearing fussing.
“I want to stay out a bit longer.”
Cadeyrn sends him a complex look, scanning Asterius’s face before sighing, “Master has used a lot of power tonight, and is still recovering. You should rest.”
Yes, probably he should, but just knowing he should isn’t going to make him do it. “My condition is nothing to worry about. I am fine.”
Cadeyrn tenses, body going taunt as his bindings flash, ice cracking along the grass, “Master you-,” he cuts himself off, tearing his red glare away and staring down a rose next to his face, taking a deep breath. “If it is my master’s order,” and he spins on his heel to face away from the house, “then I’ll take you deeper in.” And the demon walks past him in a rush, keeping his red eyes focused head, not even looking back to see if Asterius is following.
‘He’s mad,’ Asterius thinks, the flat dead tone of Cadeyrn’s voice digging into his conscience. He probably didn’t need to force the whole of the weave, just a part would have been enough, but he got caught up in the rush. He knows it was dangerous to his well-being, but he’s confused why Cadeyrn is so upset about it. ’Maybe it’s about the string that connects us?’
[System feels bad for Demon Prince Cadeyrn.]
‘What does that mean?’
The System doesn’t respond, typical at this point.
He doesn’t try to catch up to Cadeyrn, figures the demon wouldn’t take his company too well at the moment. Just follows along silently, running his fingers over flowers and leaves, enjoying the stroll deeper into the garden.
Eventually, the pathway changes, opening up into a natural grove. A large willow tree towering in the middle, its roots twisting down and outward into the small pond that surrounds it. Small familiar little balls of light weave through its branches, not the stars that still cling to his hair, but the little fairies he meet when he first arrived, the angels of the moon. Cadeyrn is standing before the tree, staring up at the willow with a look Asterius can almost call wistful longing.
“Cadeyrn-,”
The moon fairies chitter and chime, racing past Cadeyrn to join the little stars in circling around him. “Guys calm down,” he tries to appease, even as the moon angels cling to his robe and tug him forward towards the willow.
[Ignore them Host,] the System reads, angling its message to cover up the little fairies from his view, [Host doesn’t need to do anything else tonight.]
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ he asks, ignoring the System instead and taking a few more steps forward before Cadeyrn blocks his path with a tight frown.
“Please forgive their excitement master,” and even though he’s speaking to Asterius he’s looking at the fairies, “it has been quite a long time since you visited in person.”
‘These aren’t the fairies from the pool of memories?’ he questions, glancing over at the System. Per the System’s instructions, he had gone back to the pond he arrived in last month to fulfill his duty as the Regent of the Moon. Which didn’t really mean anything as he just let the fairies handle everything. Only staying long enough to give the order before leaving. He didn’t really know what the moon god was in charge of, that was never really explained in the novel. Which always felt odd, considering how important Luma and her power were always made out to be.
[There are many lesser beings of the moon,] the System reads appearing down by his hand, like its sulking, [The “fairies” that reside in the Pool of Memories, are just that, memories. They are no longer alive. These 13 “fairies” are the last. With no god of the moon, they are slowly losing their power. Only 5 will remain when Ilona takes over.]
That… that was heartbreaking. He had been dealing with all their dead friends? They felt real enough, but that would explain why they never followed him out of the cave.
The little fairies tug on his robes again, buzzing and chiming, pulling him forward. He goes willingly, it’s hard to refuse them once he knows what is going to happen.
[Host doesn’t need to feel sorry for them!] The System scolds, [they are just-]
“Master,” and Cadeyrn reaches out a hand to grab his robe and falters, bringing the outstretched hand back to his side, “you have already summoned the Weave tonight. You cannot handle another god’s divinity in your state.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[Cadeyrn is right!] The System agrees, [Master is in no shape to fulfill his duties].
‘Duties?’ he questions glancing between the quickly fading screen and Cadeyrn. ‘Wait… what day was it?’
“Cadeyrn tonight is…?”
The demon sighs, glancing up towards the dark sky with a pained frown, “The full moon.”
That would explain why the System was so determined, and the little fairies so thrilled, they all thought he was going to fulfill his borrowed duties. He wants to try, to learn the big secret of why the moon is so important, but he’s not sure how much more he can push tonight before he does something irreversible to his and Cadeyrn’s relationship, they were already on shaky ground.
[Host should not do this] the System repeats, edges darkening to black, [System assures Host this is a very bad idea.]
Well, when the System phrases it like that, he only wants to try it more, but he stamps down the urge. He isn’t feeling the best he will grudgingly admit and if he strains himself too much, Pluma will never let him leave the house again.
“I won’t do anything,” he says, guilt filling him as the little angels’ wings droop and they slowly let go of his robes, “but I can stay and watch for a bit.”
“Master-,”
“It’s the first I’ve visited in a while,” he rushes to say, trying to reach for a believable excuse, “I will only watch.”
Cadeyrn snaps his jaw shut, looking thunderous, but he nods stiffly and stalks back to the edge of the pool, staring intently down into its crystalline depths.
Asterius approaches slowly, letting the little angels guide him to the edge. He’s very mindful of his balance, not wanting a repeat of his first day in the novel, as he sits down, folding his messy robes underneath him as he sits. The fairies buzz a little louder, racing away from him to softly land on the pool's surface. Standing like little ballerinas about to start a play. And to his wonder and surprise, they do start to dance. Twirling and leaping across the water’s surface. Every step bleeds color into the water and little water mimics of the angels appear and join in the dance.
Slowly the colors morph into different shapes, solidifying into little bubbles under the water, reflecting what looks like entire little worlds. There are thousands of them, and they start to raise, lifting up through the water and hovering in the air, shining and floating around them like lanterns.
Asterius reaches out carefully, cradling a bright orange bubble in his hands. For a second, he’s seated at a grand dining table, a feast of sugary desserts spread out before him. He blinks and the vision is gone, the bubble floating away.
[System reminds Host that Host promised not to help.]
‘Well if you would tell me what they are-,’
He thinks gently cupping another one and finding himself standing on an empty road, no end of the winding path in sight. The bubble wobbles, and then pops! Dark purple goo slips through his fingers, leaving no trace that it was ever even there.
He freezes, glancing nervously at the fairies, but they just chitter to themselves. One even dances closer and offers him another dark purple bubble with a wide sharp-toothed smile. The smile is unnerving, but he senses no malice or hostility.
Seems he was meant to break them, or it's super overtrusting him to do whatever job he’s supposed to be doing. Still, he reaches out again, but the System’s message stops him. [Host please stop touching the dream bubbles!]
‘Dream bubbles?’ He thinks confused for a single second before the dots connect. ‘Wait is the moon goddess the god of dreams?!’ After all the mystery and secrecy, it feels a bit lackluster. It was beautiful to watch, but when compared to power, fate, or justice.... it falls a bit flat. Considering how much strife this divinity causes later, he’s confused why Ilona didn’t just take the reins. It was explained that the Moon Domain was deeply complex and held unparalleled importance, this is why Ilona wasn’t given the power back when she was a godling. It was the largest crime in Asterius’s villain rap sheet, that he stole this powerful domain from his little sister. But it was just dreams? That hardly seemed like something so important.
[Host is overthinking this] the System scolds, [and Host promised not to mess with them!]
He did promise, but he wasn’t really doing anything. He assumes that touching the bubbles lets him see the dreams held within. He wasn’t helping make the dreams, only peeking at a few (and breaking a few it would seem).
[Host is still interfering! Host is a liar!]
While he wants to keep looking, he also doesn’t want the System to flood him with messages (or start ignoring him again), so he pulls his arm back, convincing himself that he's content to watch the bubbles lifting up into the sky and shimmering in the dark.
Since he can’t touch them anymore, he looks from afar, trying to guess what dream is held within each bubble. He thinks each color means something, most likely some sort of indicator as to what kind of dream is being created. Most of them are a variant orange color, the normal type of dream he assumes, full of strange oddities that don’t really make sense. Next are the hot pink bubbles, and Asterius doesn’t need any help in identifying those kind of dreams. The blue are memories, the red violence, and the purple which the little fairies have started herding his way, are nightmares.
Considering he broke one by accident the little fairies almost seem to be trying to get him to do it again, but under the watchful glaring stare of both the System and Cadeyrn, he keeps his hands to himself, even as he glances down at the horrifying nightmares, sightly giddy that he might have just found the next best thing to horror movies. Next time he would look at as many as he wanted.
It takes a long while before the fairies are done, several hours Asterius thinks. He doses off for a short while, snapping awake to a swimming vision of a looming stone monument, before the blue bubble that had brushed his hand by accident pops. Eventually, the fairies stop dancing and all the bubbles float up into the air, even the pile of nightmares stacked in front of him like an offering. All of them hang and the fairies gather below him, perching on the pool’s edge staring up expectantly, shark-toothed smiles wide, and little moth-like wings fluttering.
Cadeyrn steps forward, “Master is very tired today, he can’t release the dreams himself-,”
“I can do this much.”
“Master you promised-,”
“It will be fine,” and he reaches out toward the bubbles hanging over his head. ‘System?’ he questions, watching a group of horses with feathers for hair race around in an orange bubble, ‘how do I release the dreams?’
[Host is a liar.]
‘We both know I have to do this,’ he protests, ‘Just help me.’
The System disappears and he thinks it has abandoned him, before a new small message appears, [Host needs to visualize releasing them. Send them to their intended recipients.]
‘Like the Weave,’ he thinks, concentrating on all the little bubbles. It’s harder to grasp than the Weave of Fate. It is a power that does not come naturally to him, but he imagines a river, a river of dreams, where all the little bubbles float down its current like rubber ducks in a tub. Each getting tangled in a separate net that belongs to a different mind. Somehow that crazy visualization works and all the little bubbles shimmer brightly before disappearing.
He hardly feels any different, just a bit more tired.
[Host needs to return home now!] the System scolds, edges a little black, [Host is pushing himself too far!]
“I’m fine,” he repeats out loud, giving the fairies a little smile before pushing himself up, “See everything is-,”
A sudden rush of vertigo slams into him, causing his vision to swim and his brain to static. A mountain of tiredness grips his bones and he feels his legs give out.
‘Opps,’ is the last he thinks before he’s off to his own dreamland.