The last rays of dusk had already long been swallowed by the tapestry of the night. Damian wandered the streets of the village, which was very unusual for him, since he much preferred spending his evenings with a book. He knew Clelia knew something was up. She wasn't dumb, she definitely noticed that he had been weird after coming back from the university, but he hadn't managed to push himself to… even though he had resolved to do it, he just couldn't confess to Clelia. At the same time, he couldn't bear to be around her without confessing, not after the wonderful intimacy they had discovered the day prior. She deserved the truth, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her.
A throaty breath snapped him out of his thoughts. "Human, are you not offspring of the Neumann family?"
Emerging from the shadows of an alleyway, a tall, grotesque figure cloaked in rags and carrying a huge sac was pointing one of its dark grey fingers at him.
"Who's asking?" Damian responded with affected calm, assessing in which directions it would be best to escape if things were to go south.
A beastly voice softly growled its response. "Do not fear us. We are bound to a pact that makes us unable to harm you. We are but a humble servant of secret powers, wandering these streets at night in search for a sign."
"You didn't answer my question. And what kind of sign are you talking about?"
"Giving you our name would give you power over us. Would you be willing to accept the responsibility of receiving our service, if we were to surrender our name?"
There was only one kind of creature Damian was aware of that assigned such importance to its name: demons. It was common knowledge that demons were liars, but Damian knew better, as they were creatures created from dark, ancient covenants, which made them forever bound to the power of words, making them unable to knowingly state the false. That being said, accepting their service wasn't advisable, not without extensive understanding of demonology: just because they couldn't outright lie, it didn't mean they couldn't be deceitful.
The boy shook his head. "I don't need to know your name. If it's true that you can't harm me, then I'm free to tell you to leave. I don't want creatures like you around my village."
A raucous laughter came from the shadows of the hood that covered the creature's head. "You are indeed free to ask us to leave, but you hold no power that would force us to obey, not unless you knew our name. We are, however, nothing if not accommodating. We are willing to make a deal, and leaving this village for good, as our end of the bargain, is on the table."
Making a deal with a demon was probably not a good idea, but he was willing to listen to its conditions, if nothing else to understand better what that creature wanted, exactly. "Speak your terms."
"In this village reside a witch and a fairy. If you now grant us entrance to the house of one or the other, our feet will never again tread these grounds."
Several thoughts fought to get his immediate attention at once. For one, he knew nothing about any witch living in the village. But, no matter how curious that made him, the one thought that ended up overpowering everything else was that this monster clearly meant harm to Clelia. There was only one fairy in the village, which was his wife, and there would be no reason for the creature to want to enter someone's house at night if it wasn't to harm them. This above all needed addressing.
Damian regretted not carrying a weapon with him. "I'm not willing to allow you to enter any of the houses in this village. Do you want me to send a message to either the witch or the fairy?"
The creature pondered before growling its next response. "We don't understand your reluctance in accepting to give us access to the intruders in your village: we cannot bring harm to the resident humans, but the same cannot be said of a witch, even less so of a fairy. It seems to us that, if you wish to keep this village safe, you'd be doing yourself a favour by collaborating with us, even if you disdain our kind."
"The fairy, at least, poses no threat, and regarding the witch…"
"How do you know that?" The monster barked, interrupting him. "She's a small fairy with a big name. Arrogant in her weakness. And it is the weak ones that pose the biggest threat: they envy power, they envy strength, so they feign obedience and bide their time, until the day they can enact vengeance on their betters. It is so among human kind, it is so among demon kind, and it certainly is so among faerie kind as well."
"You know nothing of her!" Damian hissed through his teeth.
Silence fell once again. Though they were hidden in the shadows of the raggedy hood, Damian felt the full pressure of the monster's eyes inquisitively staring.
"Curious reaction," it eventually growled. "It would almost seem like you have an emotional attachment to her."
Before Damian could do anything, a huge malformed hand grabbed him by the wrist. Its grasp was loose enough not to hurt, but as solid as metal handcuffs, making it impossible for him to run away.
With guttural laughter, the creature declared, "We may do no harm to you, but what does the pact we're bound to say about imprisoning you, we wonder?"
"I command you halt, demon!" Hissed a tiny voice from the ground next to Damian's feet.
Both Damian and the creature's head snapped in the direction of whoever just spoke. A small snake lay curled on the stone ground.
The reptile raised its scaly head and lashed its tongue. "Your vicious existence is a slap in the face of my mightiness, yet, in my magnanimity, I left you be. Now, however, I, the magnificent Horatius, cannot tolerate you laying hands on a resident of the house blessed with my outstanding protection. Unhand him, demon, or face my wrath!"
The massive dark bag the demon was carrying slammed on the position occupied by the snake with a wet thud. A shock-wave immediately followed, hitting both Damian and the creature, making the latter lose grip on the bag and both of them stumble backwards.
Slithering unharmed from beneath the bag, the little snake boasted, "Hah! Only the pathetic mind of a foul beast such as you could have foolishly believed you could squash me like that."
With its now free hand, the demon touched the ground, still holding Damian. "This is a battle we don't need to fight. Bring our regards to your master, you petulant shoelace."
From the spot where its palm contacted the stone, a wave of something resembling black smoke erupted with violence, after which Damian could no longer see. He fully expected the sharp tug of the demon running away and dragging him with it. He impotently tried to punch the big fingers of the creature pulling him away with his free hand, but he might as well have tried to move a stone by breathing on it.
The darkness was sliced by three thin, pale lines.
Like a blind bull running against a wall, the demon's charge was interrupted with a pained grunt. As the smoke-like darkness dissolved, the faint light pulsating around Clelia's small body illuminated the alleyway just enough to show the look of determined fury in her eyes. Her wand glowed white, and several small, faint lines, like threads of a spiderweb, cut the alleyway in geometric morsels. It was against some of these that the momentum of the demon had crashed.
"Let. My husband. Go." The fairy spelled with venomous calm.
Damian was speechless. Too many things were happening at once. A part of him was relieved that someone had come to help him, but, on the other hand, he felt embarrassed by having to rely on his wife to protect him.
Beneath the shadows of its hood, the demon sniffed. "The scent you emanate is very different from the last time we met, young fairy. We have to apologise for our premature statements on your weakness. If your wish is for us to let go of your spouse, we shall abide."
Dark smoke erupted again, this time beneath Damian. As if the stone under his feet had been suddenly replaced by water, he sank suddenly in the darkness.
Before losing contact with the surface, the last thing he heard was the demon cackling, "We shall let him go in the land of nightmares."
***
Confused shadows swirled around her. Clelia had wasted no time, seeing Damian sinking in the ground, and immediately dived after him. She wasn't exactly sure what the Babau had meant by "land of nightmares", but it probably was some kind of realm in the dreamscape.
That afternoon, Damian had been strangely quiet, and avoided almost any interaction with her. After the way they had affectionately kissed that morning, that shift in attitude stung. When he decided to leave the house, at sunset, she had decided to send Horatius to following, with the instruction to alert her if anything weird happened. Of course, as soon as she sensed the snake signalling her for help, she rushed out of the house and ran as fast as she could.
She wasn't afraid of what she might find in this realm: one of the least powerful of the ancient spells in her wand had been enough to stop a charging demon. Even not counting the two really big ones, she still had about twenty one more to use against anything that threatened her or her loved ones. What she did fear was being incapable of finding Damian before something happened to him. She needed to know what bothered him. She needed to know if she could do anything to relieve him of his burden. It was the least she could do, given the deceitful nature of their relationship; given how, even now, she knew she would probably have to leave him behind. But, before any of that, she had to find him.
Eventually, the swirling shadows surrounding her started calming down and assuming a semblance of coherent shapes. Emboldened by the strength of the spells embedded in her wand, she marched on, solidly holding it between her fingers. The black and greys became browns and greens, the confused ground became stone, and the sense of urgency in her chest turned into an oppressive feeling of familiarity. The vibrant colours of a regal garden invaded the path in front of her; the smells of the kitchen and the rough accent of the dwarves working in it hammered back inside of her the notion that, no matter where she went, someone was keeping watch on her. She briefly turned to her left and, sure enough, the familiar silhouette of the castle she grew up in greeted her, dominated by the tall pointy tower where her mother had her personal chambers.
She didn't stop, nor did she slow down. This was only a realm in the dreamscape, nothing she would find there would be the same as back home. Even if she met face to face with her mother, she'd know that that wouldn't be her mother, not really. She had to ignore anything that tried to obstruct her. She could feel something trying to infiltrate her mind, but defending against it required nothing more than the mildest level of focus over her "tide". Still, she wondered if Damian had to face the same thing as well, and worried he might not be able to protect himself without her help.
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With a wave of her wand, she activated another spell, which was supposed to provide guidance. She hoped she'd be able to get the spell to guide her towards Damian. A strange feeling gripped her around the arm, but only for a brief moment, and she didn't have time to focus on what was nothing more than some small and short-lived discomfort.
***
The demon has… the demon has said… something. What demon? Wha…
It wasn't clear to Damian why he was… well, he was sitting. He held his head between his hands. He was… right, this was his grandfather's funeral (didn't I already see this?), again. He wasn't exactly sure why he had to go through it again (funerals aren't something you do twice; I've done this a few years ago already), but who was he to question family business.
His mother sat like a stoic statue, next to the ghoulish, mummified presence of his father, who smelled of herbs and medicines. Damian briefly wondered when was the last time he'd seen his father standing on his own two feet (he was standing at grandpa's funeral, I'm quite sure of it).
At his left, Flibert clapped with enthusiasm, hollering, "Great performance! Bravo!".
At his right, Vaufrey wore a serious expression over his crossed arms. "I'd hardly call that a performance. Everything on stage was so wasteful, better results could have been achieved with much lower expenses. If only I had been in charge from the start."
When Vaufrej slowly turned his attention to Damian, it was almost as if an older version of himself was staring back at him from the other side of a mirror.
"When I was your age," started the reflection, "I was already working in the factory. You should call yourself lucky if we allow you to keep doing your childish games for a while more."
Damian wanted to look away, but couldn't. He wanted to show him, he wanted to make him understand what he could achieve for the sake of the family, with just a little more time.
He had always kept his mouth shut about it, aware that talking back would achieve nothing. He knew his brother wouldn't take him seriously if he talked.
Then again, his brother didn't take him seriously even if he refrained from talking (no, I probably shouldn't, what's that going to achieve?), so why not? Why not unload everything once and for all?
"I'm not playing around, Vaufrej. I have plans. I fully intend on using my studies to benefit the family business."
His older mirror smiled condescendingly. "I'm sure you do. You are a good boy, that's what you've always been. Not very capable, mind, but a very good boy indeed."
Damian gritted his teeth. "I know what I'm doing. Soon I'll be able to present to you a new product, one that everyone will want to buy. I just need…"
The image of his older self sneered. "You just need to stay out of the way, the grown-ups will take care of everything. Don't worry. Nobody will take your cushy life away, just let your older brothers take care of the business, you're not cut for it."
"I just need a little magic, that's all." Damian protested.
"Then why don't you do like a wizard? Why don't you conquer some pompous faerie creature and have her submit to your cause? Why didn't you become a wizard to begin with?"
"That's…"
The mirror image of himself, no longer even looking older, leaned in closer. "You already have a pompous faerie creature right next to you. All you have to do is to grab what you need and throw away what you don't. That's the plan, right? That was always the plan."
Damian feebly shook his head. "No, that was a dumb plan, that was (stupid) arrogant from the very start. I'm never going to…"
"Just a dumb plan?"
"Yes! That plan was basically over the very moment I actually met Clelia for the first time, before I even bought her those glasses, though it took me some more time to realise it. And, even before that, to begin with, it had always been stupid and…"
His double snickered. "Then what does that make you?"
The boy sighed (just a dumb boy). "Just an arrogant, immature, dumb boy."
The other Damian patted him on the shoulder. "That's exactly right."
An echo reached his mind before the sound reached his ear. A clear, crystalline, pure chime, like of a small crystal bell, disturbed the waters that reflected that mocking version of himself. The entire scene faded, until he was alone in a formless void (not really alone).
He solemnly turned around, seeing Clelia right behind him, sadness painted on her brows and in her eyes.
Damian kneeled, bowing down his head as if to present his neck to an invisible executioner. "I'm sorry, Clelia. I don't deserve you. It was wrong of me to think I could be your partner, that our marriage could be anything more than…"
"Oh, stop it with this melodrama!"
His head snapped back up. In the fraction of a second before she hugged him, he realised that her tears weren't due to sadness, but to relief.
Everything became clear again. Whatever he had just experienced, that weird funeral, the conversation with Vaufrej, the confession he made to himself, none of it was real. That's right, the demon had sent him to the land of nightmares, that's what had been happening. The only thing that was actually real was Clelia.
***
There was no doubt. The body she was hugging was the very same she had embraced the day prior.
"Clelia, but… how much did you hear of that conversation?"
Without letting him go she shook her head. "I don't know what conversation you're talking about, nor do I care. I'm just glad I found you safe and sound. Don't worry: we're going to be alright now."
He firmly grabbed her by her shoulders and separated her from him, similarly to how he had done after she had kissed him on the jaw.
His eyes were serious, intense. "Are we really safe right now?"
"Uuh… sure. For as long as I have this guidance spell active, the nightmare shouldn't be able to harm us in any way, and I can get us out of here at any time."
"Then, before you do, please listen to me. There is something I should have already told you, but I never had the courage to. I'll understand if, after hearing this, you'll take back all of the beautiful things you said to me yesterday."
Something stirred around Clelia's heart. What could possibly be as bad as that? Was he about to tell her there was another girl? One he had met before the plans for their marriage? Did he actually go to meet her that day, instead of going to class? "Is this why you've been acting weird all evening?"
"I… well, yes, but that's not important right now. Please just listen."
She nodded, her lips trembling. It had all been way too strange, it was just normal that it would all have to end like that. How could a boy such as him like her for real, after all? It was time for the dream to end. "Alright, I'm listening."
"See… remember when I told you that my family did not approve of me studying Alchemy?"
There it goes, he was now going to tell her he never was actually a student. "Yeah."
"Well… I had this whole plan to make them reconsider. They allowed me to study, sure, but not because they approve, only because they genuinely don't care. But, as I told you, I wanted to show them that they're wrong. I wanted to use my Alchemy to the benefit of the family business."
She furrowed her brows. What was he talking about? How would that lead into anything worth breaking their marriage over?
"I had an idea of what I wanted to do," he continued. "The only way I could see to get it done was to steal the magic of a fairy. That is why I was eager to accept when the plans for our marriage were brought up for the first time."
She raised her brow. What?
He sighed so deeply that it took him a few seconds to start talking again. "I told you many times already that you are very, very different from how I was picturing fairies, prior to meeting you. I made up that plan back when I thought my wife would be…"
"I don't understand," she interrupted him. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I… wanted to come clean. My intentions behind marrying you were not pure, and I should have told you before… you know, before yesterday. I have no excuses, I…"
"Well, have you actually done anything to put that plan into practice? Was the tea you offered me some kind of…"
"No! No, no, no, I absolutely did nothing of the sorts. I abandoned that whole plan when…"
Clelia shook her head, then she was caught by a giggling fit. She laughed, and laughed, and laughed even harder.
When she was finally able to look him in the eyes again, his cheeks had become redder than a dragon's breath.
"Why are you laughing at me like that? I'm being very serious here."
She shook her head again and had to hold her stomach, the giggles not allowing her to stop, even though it started to hurt.
When she finally calmed down, she had to lift her glasses so she could wipe away some tears. "I'm sorry, I swear I'm not making fun of you. It's just…"
"Yes?"
She suppressed another snicker. "I apologise. It's just funny because I, too, have been racking myself with guilt all this time. I, too, had an ulterior motive behind going along with this whole marriage thing."
He stared blankly at her. "You what now?"
She smiled bitterly. "Oh, Damian, my dear husband. You know how curious I was about the train?"
He furrowed his brows. "Sure. What does that have to do with anything?"
"And do you remember how I've been telling you I didn't have a good time growing up with my family?"
He nodded impatiently. "Yeah, I do remember. Why?"
"Well, I wanted to get away from my own family. As far away as possible, in fact. My idea, when I learned about the marriage plans, was to use the time I'd get to spend away from my own family after the marriage to learn about the human world and then, as soon as I found a way to do so, run away and disappear forever."
He just kept on staring blankly at her.
"You dummy," she said, "I'm telling you that I, too, didn't have pure intentions to begin with."
After a long sigh of her own, she continued with a much more serious tone. "In fact, I must confess that I, unlike you, have not abandoned my own plan yet."
"Wait, what do you mean by that?"
She looked away. "It's because of my mother. The entire point of running away was to get away from her, but, given that she's the one who wanted our marriage to happen, and given that she never does something unless she can gain from it, I'm sure that we're still, somehow, caught in her web. If I want to get away from her, the only thing I can do is get away from here as well."
"So," he croaked, "was yesterday all some kind of…"
She quickly turned back to face him. "No! No, I swear, everything of what I said and did yesterday was completely sincere."
"Then why didn't you tell me?" He pleaded.
"Why didn't you tell me about your ulterior motive?" She retorted.
After a pause, he nodded. "Fair point."
They remained silent, next to each other, neither of them in a hurry to meet the other's eyes again.
"I'm going to be honest," she started, "I'm not entirely sure where this leaves us."
He took some time, but, when he responded, his voice was calm and sweet like the day prior. "I don't know about you, but I still feel the same about you as I did yesterday. In fact, I owe you for saving me from that monster and from the nightmare it plunged me into."
"You don't owe me," she sighed. "I'm your wife, it is my duty to protect you. And… I care about you. Even if what you said is true, that you used to plan to steal my magic, so far as I can tell, you never actually did anything that would harm me. Intentions and words aren't entirely meaningless, but it's the actions that really count. And, it's worth noting, you told me everything on your own: I never suspected anything, I never had to discover anything by myself. You just came clean."
She finally looked back into his grey eyes. "That, to me, shows your commitment and your sincerity. I won't lie and say that what you just told me doesn't hurt in the least, because it does hurt a little, especially after what we shared yesterday. But… I can't judge you too harshly, because, unlike you, I haven't been able to let go of my own selfish plan yet. It would be hypocritical of me to be angry at you."
He hugged her gently, and she reciprocated.
"Do… do you really still want to leave?" He inquired.
"No, I don't. But I might have to." She replied.
"Um… listen, what… what if I come with you?"
She loosened her grip around his body just enough to be able to look him in the eyes. "It's really sweet of you to offer, but you have friends, family, and dreams here. I can't possibly ask you to abandon it all just to follow me."
"You didn't ask me, though. I'm telling you that, if you go, I'll come with you."
She shook her head violently. "No, I really don't want you to…"
"Then stay," he interrupted her. "Stay, and together we'll find a way to face… whatever it is that you're afraid might happen if you don't leave. I'll study extra hard on my Alchemy, so that I'll be able to stand by you, and if we find ourselves again fighting against faerie, or demons, or even the very gods, this time I won't be a hindrance to you, but your partner. Just like I'm supposed to be."
Her lips trembled again. Mere moments after one of the biggest laughing fits she ever had, she was on the verge of tears again. She fought them off, because it would be shameful for a noble fairy like her to cry in front of her spouse.
"Alright." She sniffled. "Now, allow me to get us out of this place, and let's finally go get some sleep."
"You don't have to ask me twice," he agreed.