Part Four
Dark Side of the Moon
Summary: Voldemort is in power, but the Wizarding world fights back. And Harry, Master of Death, is faced with a choice: move forward… or change everything?
For Delirium was once Delight. And although that was long ago now, even today her eyes are badly matched; one eye is a vivid emerald green, spattered with silver flecks that move; her other eye is vein blue. Who knows what Delirium sees, through her mismatched eyes?
From Season of Mists
Located in the heart of the Dreaming is a magnificent castle. This castle contains many things, such as the throne of Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, the Sandman. As Lord of Stories, Morpheus' responsibilities are vast, and as such, he created servants to assist him with minor responsibilities of the Dreaming. They all have different responsibilities; among the staff are Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Cain and Able, The Fashion Thing and Matthew the raven. They each have a room in the castle for Dream ensures that all of his guests and servants are comfortable. The castle also holds the most important library in existence. For in Morpheus' library are all of the stories that have never been written. Among the rare titles include A Merrie Comedie of the Redemption of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlow, Harry Potter and the Green Flame Torch by J K Rowling, and That Bestseller that You Were Too Lazy To Write by _____.
The Library of the Dreaming is an extraordinary thing, and as such, it is taken care of by an extraordinary librarian. His name is Lucien, a tall and thin man who wears a pair of glasses perched upon his long nose. There is something bird-like in his features and there is something dog-like in his character. Of the various servants, nightmares, and archetypes that wander the Dreaming, none is more loyal than Lucien. As librarian, he is able to name and locate every book in the library. It is a rare thing when Lucien loses a book.
On one particular day in April, Lucien looked out of the glass door and saw the dark sky of the Dreaming. It was rarely a good sign when the Dreaming grows dark; it usually meant that Lord Morpheus was in a poor mood. Lucien was placing down his feather duster when a gust blew the doors open and scattered a few nearby sheets in the air. And as he placed the sheets back in a pile, he noticed one was out of place.
It was a brittle parchment that told one of the first stories. It was created before Lucien, before the first planet had woken, when the Endless were still young. Lucien began to reach the parchment, even though he was already aware of what was written on the old paper.
At that time Death was a morbid thing and Dream's favorite sibling was Desire. Destruction was still with the family and the first Despair was still present. And then there was Delight, whose smile had not yet broken into the shambles of Delirium.
There wasn't much to do at the time; the universe was still new and fresh. There was only the family of the Endless, waiting for people, planets, stars, and galaxies to wake. Sometimes they would wonder of the future, and what their responsibilities would bring. But they did not question their existence, they merely waited.
Destruction would sometimes sigh when the three oldest members would squabble with the three youngest. His position as the middle member of the family would sometimes make him wish for an eighth member of the family. Stuck in the middle, Destruction could see both sides of discussion and he was never one to pick sides. At one point, he voiced his complaint out loud and was met with stony silence.
"Brother, eight is not a fitting number," said Dream. Even at the dawn of the universe, Dream was a formal individual, a habit that would not change through the millennia.
Destruction apologized; he was never very good at words, for that was not one of his skills. He knew he had misspoken. "I did not mean it that way. I meant to say, I wish our family was equally sided to provide balance."
"Still, it is a thought," said Desire, eager to continue the conversation. "If there was another member of our family, who would it be?"
"We commiserate on someone that does not yet exist and mourn who never was," said the first Despair. "It is a pointless discussion, but there is certain power that lies in this." This Despair was more talkative than the second, willing to explain the beauty in grief that her future counterpart would not.
"Everything is pointless," said Death, looking at her family with dark eyes. "Ours is not to question, merely to act until our End."
It would be a long time before Death cheered up.
"But it would be nice to have someone younger than me," chirped Delight.
"The eighth would not be the youngest. He would be the eldest," replied Destiny.
And with Destiny's words the conversation ended. The family was too uncomfortable to continue speaking, for there were forces in the universe that even the Endless yielded to.
These forces gave the actions of the Endless meaning, allowing the rhythm of the universe to run like clockwork. Every beginning has an end. The Endless must swear by the circle and on the other side of the sky. The universe began empty and it would end empty when Death takes Destiny's book and closes it shut.
And between that time, choices would define how existence was shaped, that destiny only became Destiny when it was chosen. That Death only had meaning when there was a life lived. Dreams would never be real unless if someone believed in them and so forth. This was the fate of the universe and these rules that could not be broken by the Endless.
"Hello, Lucien."
The librarian looked up from the sheet of paper to see a familiar face.
"Lady Death," he said as he gave a short bow. "How may I serve you?"
"I just came to see Dream. Is he around?" Death lifted up a book and began to flip through some of the pages.
Lucien placed the sheet in his hands down on a table. "Lord Morpheus is currently working on some of nightmares that center on the Corinthian. I'm afraid it may be some time before he emerges; he can be very devoted to his work."
Death placed the book back down and withdrew a note from her pocket. "That's alright. Could you give this to him when he comes out?"
Lucien took the note from her hand. "Of course, Lady. Would you like to take the book with you? Perhaps you may find it to your liking?"
Death glanced once more at the book. "I want to, but I really shouldn't. Things are busy for me and I won't have time to read it."
Lucien nodded. "Very well, I will set it aside for you for another time." He nodded once more as Death walked away. He tucked the book under his arm and went back to the sheet he had been reading.
This was the fate of the universe and these rules that could not be broken by the Endless.
Some call it free will.
The Endless call it Decision.
Lucien tucked the brittle sheet back in its rightful place inside a filing cabinet. Outside of the castle, it began to rain.
Our existence deforms the universe. That's responsibility.
Delirium, in The Kindly Ones
A/N: I'm rediscovering this amazing thing called the sun, it's been distracting me from writing. Proper update sometime next week with a giant Endless scene. :)
