The Snarled Circle Chronicles

22. A Nightmare Proposal (Part 1)

One day. Two missions. Four shaken people. After a storm rocks Edelweiss, secrets are quickly rising to the surface.

M

Am morgigen Tag werde ich nicht mehr hier sein...

4:31 a.m.

A wicked darkness hazed all sense of location, and Roderich, who never had a nose for direction anyway, could only push on and hope his intentions would lead him.

The storm had passed. The ground was as dark and sopping and smelling of earth overturned. Roderich's shoes squelched and slid until mud poured over onto his stockings. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets, and his nose was buried in a scarf.

He was expecting to feel some tap on his shoulder or hear the gnashing of too many teeth chewing beyond the purple weeds. But the only thing invading his senses was the dreadful cold of fog and the white spots of lightning still flickering high above. A fierce wind chilled his ears and worsened the stain of tiredness on his eyelids. Far behind lay his bed — perhaps not comforting, but so much warmer than this.

Panic balled up in Roderich's throat, pushing against his spine and begging he return home. A white flash came and died, changing his eyes from black to purple and back again. But the pain and cold must have purpose! No son of Ulrich was versed in "excursions." One need not expend energy if he gained nothing from it!

Still, he stopped. Another pair of squelchy footsteps was pairing up with his own.

After a yawn, he looked onward. Some human-sized silhouette was coming near on the opposite edge of the road, walking tall and confident through the fog. In the wind, a ring of tendrils flared from its face. Roderich took one step down into the ditch, but the thing has already seen him. It cocked its wavering head, then darted forward. The master squealed, sharp cry piercing the sacred stillness.

"I knew that was you! What the hell are you doing out here? There are still wolves out this time of morning."

Roderich folded over, struggling to catch his breath. Above him was his… lady, Eliza, wrapped up in a hooded cloak. The waving tendrils were her hair, and her forceful movements came from years of outdoor gruntwork.

"What are you doing out here?" He retorted, wrinkling his beaky nose. He could see now just how much mud was staining his stockings. His toes were chilled to the bone.

Eliza stopped. She locked eyes with her huffing friend, but was speechless. Roderich straightened, then narrowed his gaze into that eagle-eyed glare of a man with no clue of his charms — that judgy iron aloofness Eliza couldn't stand. No, it was not obvious to him that she was headed to Edelweiss. The context scrambled his processes.

"I…" she faltered for a second. One must tread lightly here. Roderich was sensitive to a damnable fault… or is that only how she thought of him? "I was coming to Edelweiss to surprise you."

"Surprise me with what?"

Now, this was a perfect opportunity, but Eliza put it away. She was too shaken to think rationally, and he was in aloof mode. And besides, she wanted to see his reaction when that finally came to be. Feeling was only half the equation.

"The surprise is me checking on you after the storm," she said. Damn, if only he'd stayed home!

Roderich jerked at her answer. His cheeks grew warm, and he reached up to rub them with what thin gloves he'd pulled on. Check on him? She cared enough to check on him? What did she know? Did she have something to do with that… nightmare? Or could she sense his feelings from afar? His heart couldn't decide whether to race or relax.

"You really wanted to check on me?"

"Yes," she said. Oh, there was definitely something more to that syllable. He could see it. But he'd live under the illusion she gave. She loved him!

"That's kind of you. I haven't slept at all."

"Oh no, why not? Did the thunder keep you up?"

"No, it was because of a bad dream…" He grabbed her arm and squeezed. "I had this vision. It was like a nightmare, but it all felt incredibly real. I have no memories of falling asleep nor waking up. The whole night is one fluid recollection. It doesn't make the slightest bit of sense."

"You wanted to come see me, then. You thought it might be dark magic."

"No! No, nothing like that. Surely, Eliza, you must realize I see you as more than a resource for the shameful arts. I only intended to ask you something."

"Ask me something?" Eliza squirmed in Roderich's grip. Was this his honest idea? Coming to her in the dead of morning after some dream spooked him? She wouldn't put it past him, but dumb luck was no reason to jump the gun!

"Yes. I wanted to ask you if you could take me somewhere. Your broom can fly faster than any horse, can't it?"

She lifted the dusty broom in her left hand, a bit disappointed somewhere inside.

"You don't like riding on a broom."

"I'll stand it. I just can't be at home right now. There's something very important I have to do."

"Because of the vision? At least explain it to me first. You don't want to be serving evil spirits."

Roderich shook his head. "It's more paranoia than anything. You know I'm the suspicious type. If anyone's been trying to control my mind, I have to put a stop to it today. No later."

"So this is a magical mission."

Aaand, there went the shield of aloofness back on his face again.

"No… why would you think that?"

6:43 a.m.

Felice awoke with drool on his wings.

The boy duke had been sleeping in the fairy's bed all night. No amount of pleading or shoving or separating the blankets stopped him. Even after Felice gave up and curled up on the floor, he found Otto an hour later draped over him like a sock. His weight was enough to nearly flatten Felice's delicate bones.

So he switched from bed to floor, bed to floor, but fairies are sleepier than humans, and so he couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to see Otto coming to drape himself again and again. It was all rather annoying, and so when the sky was changing, and he felt the stickiness of warm drool dripping on his wings, he decided enough was enough.

"Otto, it's time to get up. I don't like you sleeping on top of me. It's very mean, and I only want to sleep in the same bed as someone else if it's my brother. You have to respect my privacy."

He felt proud of that last line. It was what his mamma told him to say whenever his brother barged in on him using the toilet, but this situation gave him that same feeling of discomfort.

Otto kept his eyes closed, but Felice could see him twitch a bit, so he was clearly awake. The fairy hummed a little melody, and Otto's body floated upwards. Then he shoved him with as much strength as a "bug" could muster, and he tumbled to the floor beside the bed.

"Ow! Hey! What the fuck did you—"

"Get out of my room!" Felice screeched. "You have to respect my privacy!"

The boy duke clambered up. His eyes were like ice, and if a child were able to produce the warlike impression of a slighted tyrant, he certainly did.

"Why'd you shove me!?"

"I told you you can't sleep in my bed. If you want to sleep in my room, you have to be on the floor, and if I'm on the floor, you can't lie on top of me. That's mean. Look what you did to my wings!"

He whizzed them, splattering spit everywhere.

Otto bared his teeth — an animal action it was too early to consider as strange. Then he sat down on the floor and started to cry again — an action it was too early not to be annoyed with.

Felice slipped out of bed. His pajamas were slathered with spit and marked in places by strange rips and tears. Grimacing, he hid at the foot of the bed and made sure Otto didn't watch as he got dressed. It was once difficult to tie the laces under his wings by himself, but now he could do it in the dark.

"Why are you so sad? It's unsightly," Felice said, using a word he'd learned from Herr Edelstein.

Otto wiped his eyes, then gave a little cough. "I have to leave this place."

"Why?"

"'Cause… I did something bad."

Felice screwed up his button nose. It must have been really bad if Otto actually cared about being punished. He'd been caned and slapped so many times, Felice learned the language of whether it was Ilse or Roderich imprinted on his skin.

"What did you do?"

Otto drew in a quick breath. "Em… it was a really horrible thing I did a long time ago. I think Roderich found out I did it. He's gonna be really mad at me… and then…" The ice of before was replaced by scurrying snow. "I have to leave," he said again. "You have to help me. You have to be the one to make me go away forever."

"What? Why me?"

"Because you're my only friend in the whole world, Felice. And people like me tend to latch onto friends harder than most because we need them more than most. If I don't leave this place, it's because our friendship is too strong."

"I'll come with you if you want. I'd like to see somewhere other than Edelweiss for once."

Otto sighed. "No, you can't get mixed up with a criminal like me. It's better for both of us if I go alone." With this, he turned and went to the door, visibly trembling under the traveling coat he was already wearing. "I'm going to pack some things… will you meet me downstairs in half an hour? I want you to walk with me to the end of the driveway."

But as soon as they both left the room, they paused. Something was hanging in the air — a haze of energy undetectable to human senses. Felice raised his wings and flew to the ceiling, where it was the thickest. He followed the trail and easily found the source.

Ilse's room.

Within the room, in the bed, there lay a gorgeous young maiden tucked up in rose petals. Her hair was golden. Her skin was pale, yet flawless. Her eyes were closed, but her chest never moved.

Felice shivered. He tip-toed to the edge of the bed and looked down upon her, expecting her to awaken. But she only lay cold and stiff on the petals.

On the bedside table were three items: an empty bottle, an empty ring box, and a rolled-up piece of paper. Otto snatched this, tearing off the string and uncurling it. Its message was written in blood-red ink.

"Ilse Marie Götz:

Thank you for your purchase of Evil Purging Potion. This is a top-seller for spring! As you are human, please take one drop with water each day over a period of one month. Tired of yourself? Ready to change for the better? Take years off your life! Amaze yourself and your friends as you transform from a mangy, hard-tongued hag to a pretty princess! Included also is your token for accessing us again and a coupon for 20% off your next potion purchase. *Excludes sale/clearance items and any potions involving ghostly gator scales, as these are in short supply.

Best wishes!
The Salamander Catalogue,
Care of Vlad"

"Ilse was a witch!" Felice squeaked.

"She at least dealt with demons at some point in her life. Take one drop with water… over one month…" Otto voiced after reading. He peered at the bottle, which was completely empty. "It took years off her life, all right. She drank it all at once. It shocked her system. She's dead."

"Dead!?"

"She didn't read the instructions. It was an accident. But she's definitely dead. That weird feeling in the air must be all the evil she purged from her body. Did you have weird nightmares, too?"

"Yeah. I had one really scary one. Miss Elizaveta had blood on her face. So you can feel that stuff in the air, too?"

Otto cringed. He put the thank-you note back on the table, where it folded into a pair of lips and spat out a blood-red coin and a small printed card with the discount.

"I told you I have some fairy blood. Now, this is going to make Roderich even more stressed. I have to leave. I have to get my things. I have to be out of here before he wakes up…"

But a little investigation proved Roderich was nowhere to be found. Otto and Felice were the only two living souls.

7:02 a.m.

Eliza told him he was not dressed for flying, what with the light coat and silk gloves and thin, muddy stockings. He argued he would not go back to Edelweiss until his mission was finished. She argued she had no intention of returning to Birngarten. And so the two begrudgingly climbed on the broom, Eliza first, gripping the handle, and Roderich behind, gripping her.

A few hours later, Roderich's extremities were frozen solid. He had to keep peering over Eliza's shoulder to make sure his hands were still clamped tight around her. Gradually, he'd gotten used to the wind on his face and the air beneath his feet, but the turbulence still made him feel like a floppy sock in the wind. He was lucky he could bury his face in Eliza's hair whenever a sudden gust arose.

A blanket of moisture fell upon Roderich's shoulders. It shocked his nerves and chilled his skin and soaked his hair. He sneezed furiously and blinked away what droplets slid under his spectacles. Eliza was still a warm presence in front of him. He leaned into her and set his chin on her left shoulder. There was nothing to see in the clouds, yet she shot dauntless through golden-gray gloom. Roderich breathed her in, and his heart was calmed. He was frozen and shivering, but he could hold on. He would hold on… This had to happen today.

He was forgetting something hidden in the mists of muddled memories. It was sparkly, wasn't it? He peered into the clouds and thought he saw the face of his aunt, but it was replaced all too quickly by his father's pulsing face. Or… his face, pulsing, shifting, changing into that of his father. The feeling sank. Clouds billowing out like a swollen, bubbling stomach. Faraway lightning striping the sky like veins.

"I feel sick!" He howled over the wind.

"No place to land around here! You'll have to wait!" Eliza shouted back. "This should help you!"

She jerked the broom handle up, and Roderich felt tears pricking his eyes at the sudden shift in flight angle. Now they were vertical, rocketing up through the clouds and staining every piece of clothing with a wicked wetness. Roderich dug both fists hard into Eliza's stomach. He gripped her shoulder with his chin, then squeaked when he felt one of her hands softly stroking his.

Then they emerged.

Puffy clouds peeled away, and all was plated in brilliant, shimmering rainbows bathed in the gold of the heavens. Ahead were the ancient peaks of mountains, capped with cascading snow flows. Behind was the sunrise, huge and orangey and warm on the backs of the riders. Now Roderich's heart fluttered in his chest. Everything below was so soft and hazy and muddled, but up here — this was a hidden world!

They slowed, then hovered, spinning so they could see each corner of the firmament. Stars slowly faded, giving way to the tranquil blue of morning.

She turned back to give him a smile. For the first time that day, Roderich saw her face. It was wind-beaten, sure, but there was some deeper distress in the red-stained eyes and the loose lips. She was beautiful, but shaken. Perhaps… if he asked now…

No, if there was some personal issue rolling around her mind, he'd let it be. All must be content when the time was right. And clearly, now was not the time to indulge — not when the air was thin and the clouds obscured rocky ground below.

It was the same for Eliza. Her Roderich was haggard from whatever disorder had wracked him throughout the night. Though light painted the heavens, their guests were too heavy to ascend any further, and so they must continue on.

Nonetheless, she grabbed Roderich's hands in her own and interlaced their fingers, then gripped the broom handle so both of them had hold.

"Are we going the right way?"

"We should be. As long as you're going northwest. Once we cross the mountains, we find the Rhein. That should lead us to Liutberht."

The broom jerked.

"We're going to Liutberht? That cursed place? Why today?"

"No later than today. I have to do this."

"Do what? What was in the vision you had?"

"I'll explain it when we get there. It's not bad! You don't even have to come inside the castle. Just protect the broom."

"Why would I need to protect it?"

"I don't know. You might have to."

With an exhausted sigh, Eliza fell off the slow rise of air and plunged, with Roderich again squeezing her, back down into the clouds. Turbulence came on quickly. The spells she'd applied to the broom to keep riders safe from windburn were all unraveling, and she had no way of fixing them. Not now… not today, at least. Sometime later.

11:05 a.m.

The effect was how Otto had stated: It was now midmorning, and he still hadn't left Edelweiss.

"You can't run away yet. You're hungry," Felice had said, at Otto's noisy stomach. Otto replied he was always hungry, but nonetheless, the two of them took the time to mix and knead and cut and boil a pot of pasta. It had come to be their favorite secret activity, and now in daylight, they made it a most excellent breakfast.

"You shouldn't run away when you're all sweaty. Take a bath," Felice then said. Otto snarled at this, but obliged. One more relaxing half hour would surely do him some good, if it was his last. He closed his eyes and soaked in the tub until everything was clean and fresh, then washed his hair and lazed around in a robe until he was hungry enough to eat the rest of the pasta.

"You don't want to run away. You're all cozy," Felice said when Otto was nearly asleep again — in Felice's bed, of course. Otto whined and moaned, but begrudgingly hauled himself up and put together a suitcase of everything he'd need on his indefinite journey. Shirts, coats, trousers, gloves, woolen socks, and even a light blanket were packed away. Felice wrote down the pasta recipe and tucked it in with the socks, along with a biscotti recipe he was "ashamed they never got to try together." Otto said he'd eaten enough of Roderich's cakes for the sweetness he needed in life.

Then Felice walked with Otto to the end of the driveway, just as instructed, and here Otto planted his feet firmly in the dirt and refused to take another step.

"If you're going to run away, then run away. It will be the most exciting thing that's happened around here in months. When we find you again, you can see all the newspaper clippings I collected about your disappearance."

"I'm not running away to be found again. I'm a fugitive, escaping punishment. Do you think it's exciting for me? Having to run away from everything I've ever known? I'll never see the inside of that house again. I won't make pasta with you anymore. You can expect no more secret treats. I won't be able to explain those potions to you, either. When you run out, you won't know where to find more. Being a fugitive is good for no one."

"Then you're being an ass, Otto," Felice said using a word he'd learned from Eliza. "You're making it sound really selfish, you know. You running away and leaving me here without a friend, and not even telling me why you're doing it. What's really so bad that you decide overnight you're dead meat on Herr Edelstein's property, eh?"

Otto visibly cringed at that last comparison. Without answering, he marched forward, taking his suitcase with him.

Felice fluttered his wings and hovered right alongside him. "Hey! Stop! I can't let you leave! You look all grumpy! I don't want a grumpy face to be the last I ever see of you!"

But Otto didn't say a word until the two came to Birngarten. He stowed his suitcase in a bush and looked at Felice with crossed arms. The fairy still fluttered, wings never tiring. His flimsy sandals were hardly kissed by dirt.

"What do you want?" Otto spat.

"I want you to buy me a cupcake."

"A cupcake. Sure. I can buy you one cupcake, and then I'm on my way out of here."

"If you say so."

"You think I'm the grumpy one."

"You never had a problem being smug to Edelstein about your naughtiness before."

"This is different. This is actually bad."

"So bad you can't tell your best friend?"

Otto looked at him. Everyone was looking at him. Two pairs of glittery wings upon his back, a flowy outfit, a golden laurel branch fastened in red hair that shone even under the mottled light of clouds… and those pointed ears! Otto was friends with a fairy! A magical being from a foreign land!

It was sad, really. How much he'd enjoyed a… another magical being's company. How much he liked walking through Birngarten like this, seeing the same shops change aesthetic, from wintry sparkle to spring petals, to summer cotton poofs in the air and autumn's murky haze of darkly magical scents. It was spring now — the dreary, rainy spring. Humid droplets collected on the back of Otto's neck. Water was his essence, but how cold it felt now. Better than the fire of iron, he told himself, but a most unwelcoming feeling.

Otto wiped a slime of sweat off his forehead and felt the sheen sliding between his fingers. He was close to the bakery he liked. He certainly had money with him — enough to buy hundreds of cupcakes. One look at the fairy's giddy smile brought the fog down to a manageable level.

"I'll get you a whole box of cupcakes. Just tell me which ones you like."

Felice waltzed inside and spent a good while selecting his treats. Otto insisted he'd buy a whole box, but there was no good in saving delicious cupcakes for later. Felice chose two: a pretty cake of blackberries, and a chocolate swirl. Otto, of course, went ahead and bought a box of everything, then another, and spent his time out on the stoop devouring them all.

"This was a good idea," he told the fairy. "Thanks."

"Are you calmer now? My grandpa always said if you're grumpy, it's because you're hungry. I guess pasta didn't tide you over. You've always had a big appetite."

Otto nodded. "Yeah, I'm calmer now. I'm sorry. I shouldn't spend all my time worrying. It's not good for me. I should just enjoy what I can in the moment."

"That still sounds like you're running away."

"That's here nor there. Tomorrow, I won't be here anymore."

He finished the last cupcake and wiped multicolored crumbs from his cheeks. Then he marched on his way again, through the streets of the high, high city. They passed the apothecary, but neither Roderich nor Eliza could be found. "They've gone on a date," Otto said, and the fairy wholeheartedly agreed.

"Hey, Otto, let's go in here! It says there are magic charms!"

"They'll be fake," Otto said.

But Felice had already disappeared within the shop — the one which had breezy artisan clothing and homemade soaps and lotions crowding the storefront window. Curious, Otto poked his head in. He was hit instantly by a wave of odor — the kind produced by darkness-repellent herbs. He held his breath and went inside. Felice was in the very back, beyond knitted caps and quilted handbags and shelves and shelves of soap. One by one, he was touching a variety of coins and pendants and vials of moss. He hummed and gave his wings a flick, but only screwed up his face in confusion.

"You're right. These don't have any real magic to them at all. None that I can sense. But they're all very pretty! Oh, cool, look at these!"

He held up a miniature pair of sewing shears. Otto lost his breath and coughed, stumbling backwards until he knocked over a coat rack that tumbled into a shelf of lotion bottles. A tremendous amount of odorous lotions spilled and spread out on the floor, while the boy duke scrambled to save himself from broken glass.

"Otto! Are you okay?"

Felice replaced the shears and flew over. Dipping low, he grabbed Otto's hands and strained his wings. The two of them lifted higher and higher in the room until Felice's head was gracing the ceiling and Otto's legs dangled perilously below.

"Feli, I can't fly," the other squeaked.

The fairy jerked him, his strength failing to accommodate such a cake-stuffed creature. Carefully, he flapped his wings, harder and harder, until both of them came to rest upon the counter. Otto surveyed his mischief with the lotion bottles. The sound of footsteps rang out clear in his ears, so with the quickness of a creature, he swiped up a handful of charms and a few bottles of lotion, then stole out of the shop, heaving in fresh air. Felice stood stunned, still within, but Otto beckoned with his eyes, and the fairy ran out as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Go, go, let's go!" Otto squealed, his face breaking out in a grin. He gave one lotion bottle to his friend. "Here, I got you the spring flower scent! You like that, right?"

"You just stole this stuff!"

"So? Have you ever been mischievous before?"

"Is stealing mischief?"

"Anything can be mischief. Now don't squeal. I'm an even bigger fugitive, and you're my accomplice."

The two of them ducked and crawled under a table outside a café. The white tablecloth concealed everything except the curly tips of Felice's wings. Together, they huffed and laughed until a waiter came by and shooed them out again.

"This smells so good," Felice cooed, rubbing some lotion on his hands. "Not as good as my mamma's soap, though. Sometimes seeing all the things humans make reminds me of how different I am."

Otto laughed. "Well, it's not like any of us have been to Allegria. Of course we can't represent your culture perfectly. You can't blame us. But that lotion does smell good."

"It does! Ooh, if you're running away, you should go to Allegria! Roma Villa! That's where my mamma and brother live. I'll be returning there soon for the summer, anyway. If you just wanted to wait a bit longer, you could come with me. I'd show you the vineyard and take you to the beach. Have you ever been to a real beach before? Next to the ocean? The ocean smells so wonderful. Eh, I like to put sand in jars, and when I take a bath, I pour it in the tub and pretend I'm at the beach! Fairy tubs are really big and deep, so if you have enough sand, it feels like you're walking on the ocean floor. All squishy!"

Otto let the vision wash over him like ocean waves. A magical land far away, where the air smelled of sea and the sky was painted gold. It was silly to romanticize what was commonplace for his friend, but compared to Edelweiss, that musty manor of hatred and worries, Allegria sounded so free!

"Eh?"

"You and me. Let's go to Allegria. You miss your family. I need something different. And besides, it's not good traveling alone."

"You said it's better for you to go alone. That it's dangerous to travel with a fugitive. I don't know what you did. Did you murder someone? You have to at least tell me your crime was petty."

"My crime was…" Otto rubbed more sweat off his forehead. He was thirsty. "I didn't murder anyone, no. It wasn't like that. It was different."

"Would it get you put in jail?"

"Not in this country, no."

Felice spat in his hand. "Then, with my magical spit against your mundane, will you promise that from this moment onward we'll protect each other?"

Otto reveled in the offer. He slimed up his own hand and shook Felice's, making sure to squish them together as much as possible. Did he… did he just convince his best friend to come with him… to a tangible place? Oh, it was all too good to be true. Something was weighing Otto's heart down, and no matter how much he squeezed the spit, he felt there was something to be overlooked.

He had helped to murder someone.

1:20 p.m.

Schloss Liutberht was dead.

Its structure still stood — stark and imposing, but the creepers had consumed entire walls, and the windows were all black with soot and the stains of rain. No horses whinnied in the stables. No goats or chickens wandered the premises. It was only stone and earth and a solemn silence hiding whatever evil spirits crooned their blasphemies within.

Eliza touched down, and Roderich slumped off the broom and into the dirt. He broke into a coughing fit, then had a little staring match with the castle, as if challenging it to frighten him. The witch, meanwhile, was already scanning the surroundings, brandishing her broom as some makeshift cudgel.

The woods around them were still in the process of blooming, and no thick grass marked the forest floor. Even the landscape was rather dead. Roderich's life proved even more depressing, but though some strange factor of this enticed her, Eliza had put herself on a pedestal as his counselor, and she would not mention the sheer moroseness of his being.

"Okay. Why are we here? What's so important that you have to do it here and today?"

Roderich clambered up, then lifted his nose and strode up the hill toward the front doors of the castle. He ran over his memories again and again. Last night he… he went to bed… or did he visit Ilse before bed? Something sparkly was blurring his memory of Ilse, but he knew he saw her at some point. He'd told her something important. Oh… it was that. He'd told her that. She'd been overjoyed. Then he'd gone to bed, and then began the nightmare.

Roderich reached down into his coat pocket. Furtively, he pulled up the cold ring stinging his fingers. It was a plain band with a crystal — a diamond.

"In the vision, I transformed into my father," he said, shoving the ring back down.

Eliza looked puzzled as she caught up. "How did that happen?"

The ring felt heavy in his pocket. "I was in his Black Study, thinking about him, and the next moment my stomach was upset and I was growing into his image. My mind was changing too. It melted into an evil haze, and that's where my memories get confusing. I was myself, but it was like there were two sides of me. The ruthless one, and the rational."

"Was it that wicked changeling?"

He shook his head. "No, he hasn't been back in months. This transformation, whether real or fantasy, was my own creation."

"I want to call it fantasy, then. What you're describing would take an incredibly powerful spell."

"When I checked this morning, my shirt wasn't all torn. But it felt so powerful and real. I can reimagine every part of it perfectly."

"Was it painful or pleasurable?"

"It was both. It hurt until my mind stopped resisting. Then I wanted it to continue. I told myself it was my destiny."

Her arm slithered upon his back and rubbed his shoulders. "Then that was a stress dream, dear. What's stressing you out so bad? Why are you scared of your future?"

He stopped before the front doors. One spidery hand reached forward, but couldn't quite grip the handle. Last night, he'd watched the hand bubble and swell into something stronger, but all the ruthlessness had faded with the stars.

Ruthless…

"I'm not scared of my future. It's getting there that's worrying me."

Eliza reached for him, but he tore open the door to Liutberht and disappeared inside.

The place was even more dead within. What was musty before was dank now. What was dusty was rank. The tapestries were torn and crooked. The paint was chipped. Roderich felt his throat swelling and his tears welling up, but he pushed on. Upstairs. Down the hallways. Right to the ballroom doors, still left open. Some statues had crumbled. Others had been removed. But there in the center stood Ulrich and Gertrude, still gripping each other the same way they'd done years ago.

Of course, Roderich was taller now. But still the place sent tingling down his spine and put a peculiar smoke in his lungs. He went forward and addressed the statues.

"I can't stand your bloated face, even in stone," he told Ulrich. "I hope it hurt like hell to grow all cold and stiff."

The face of stone gave not a care for his presence. Roderich relaxed his shoulders. It was a one-sided argument.

"You were wicked in life, but I do honor your memory. I hold you close to my heart every time I judge myself for not being my best. You are responsible for my high expectations. Of course, I still can't stand the look of myself sometimes, but now I know why. It's because I wasn't made in your image. No man can truly become what he is not. But, mark my words! I feel a fire within me! It's growing! Perhaps, now, after so long, I will be able to find what you had lost in me. I am crossing a threshold. I can see my destiny through the clouds. I'm going to change into something you never thought possible, and you'll be surprised to know I'm doing it without magic. I'm doing it on my own."

Still no reaction.

Roderich sighed and took the ring from his pocket — the real reason he was here.

"Mama, papa, this ring is a gift from aunt Ilse. By the end of today, I am going to present it to the woman I love and ask her to be my wife. She is persistent, insightful, knowledgeable, and encouraging, not to mention she's as hopelessly eccentric as I am. Last night I realized something — it's time I made a decision that shapes my whole future. This is the decision I made. I'm proposing to Eliza, and I came all this way to ask for your blessing."

He kneeled before them, holding his hands in his lap. Minutes passed silently, and though they couldn't respond, Roderich sat still, listening for an answer.

When he was finished, he rose, then kissed their cold hands before turning and quitting the room, doors closing behind him.

Eliza bounded down the hall toward him. He squealed for the second time that day.

"I've finished my task. We can go home now," he told her.

She wasn't going to buy that. If Eliza knew Roderich, she knew he kept things carefully hidden in secret compartments of his mind, and that such compartments were hastily and messily organized. One decent look, and she could find anything she needed.

"That was like fifteen minutes. Are you saying you're ready to spend another several hours freezing your face?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I am feeling quite stiff from the ride. Perhaps it would be prudent to sit for a while."

He was visibly relaxing. Eliza smirked. If he sat now, he'd complain less on the way home. But honestly, why were they here? Did he need to spit on his father's statue to make some point? She reached out and grabbed his left hand, straining to feel for any nefarious new enchantments. But it was fruitless. Without a wand, her powers simply weren't strong enough. If this had been any day but today. Any day after today…

Her eyes traveled to the doors behind him. She saw to their opening. He sucked in his breath, but she'd already entered the room and come to face the statues.

Roderich expected some comment about his ever-spiraling traumas, but the woman only gave an awkward, one-legged curtsy and fidgeted with her necklace.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Herr and Frau Edelstein. I'm Eliza, a friend of your son."

His lady was meeting his parents! Roderich hid his beaky nose before it could go completely pink. He then seated himself on the sofa, all crunchy with dust, while she went on and on about their friendship, (omitting the witchcraft, of course.)

Roderich let out a little moan. His muscles were so cramped and sore from gripping for dear life. All he wanted was to sink into the couch and let everything grow squishy. All squish, like he'd become in the vision…

And what was he seeing now?

He rolled off the couch and crawled over to a briefcase! And not just any briefcase, but the plainest yet sturdiest briefcase one could buy! This was his father's! And it hadn't turned to stone!

Roderich slapped it on the couch with a ploomph of dust. The lock clicked at his touch, just like the one on the Black Study door. Within was a leatherbound journal, a series of papers marked Projekt Tarzenia, and a box with another six vials of tar like the one Roderich found in Ulrich's pocket. He uncorked one and sniffed. Lilac! It was a crude incense candle!

Perhaps this journal would explain the project, Roderich thought. He opened it and scrutinized the writing. Mostly dates and descriptions, with a few diagrams sprinkled in.

20 July

Experiment on subject "Hermann" with codename "Disclosure," Batch 5 a failure. Effluent not effective. Subject exhibited flu-like symptoms within five minutes of exposure, but was able to retain human form indefinitely. Subject will be detained for further experimentation.

14 August,

Experiment on subject "Joseph" with codename "Disclosure," Batch 6 a failure. Concentration of effluent and fragrance imbalanced, effluent overpowering. Subject could smell what it described as "fuel" before complaining of horrendous pain and reverting to imp form within ten seconds. Subject then collapsed, deceased.

4 November

New subject "Henry Kirkland" claims to have come from the Isle of Rain and sired a son there. Passing of genes will be looked into later on. Experiment with codename "Disclosure" Batch 15 a success. Subject noted a scent of lilac before exhibiting flu-like symptoms. After two minutes, physical changes were visible, beginning with paling of skin. Reversion to imp form took one minute, quickened by the sickness. Shapeshifting abilities were completely nullified. Exposure to fumes fatal only after 24 hours. Further testing on this batch needed.

These were not candles. These were weapons against the dark fae.

The box of vials was marked Batch 15. The successful batch. The one that made imps sick before forcing them to revert. It disclosed their identities without killing them and disguised the poison with a pretty scent! This was an incredible invention! The journal even went on to explain how Batch 15 was made! Simple crude effluent and natural fragrances! Miraculous!

"But..." Roderich muttered.

He flipped back toward the beginning of the journal. Many codenames were mentioned before Disclosure. Midnight. Snapdragon. Excalibur. Caesar. Fudge. And before those… Sun.

The candles he'd been burning at Edelweiss. They were called Sun.

12 January.

Experiment on subject "Helga" with codename "Sun," Batch 5 a failure. Effluent and fragrance imbalanced, fragrance overpowering. Subject exhibited severe flu-like symptoms, but only sign of reversion to imp form was paling of the skin. Subject deceased after 24 hours of exposure, retaining human form.

Roderich dropped the book, then scrambled to seize it and shove it in a coat pocket. His whole body went cold, and he didn't even feel Eliza pulling him to his feet.

"Roddy? What's wrong?"

"I know something about Otto."

"That he's a changeling?"

"You know, too!?"

"Of course I know. He's a rascal who eats enough for all of us, and he grows claws whenever he hugs me."

Roderich was disgusted. "How did you know and not tell me this? Eliza, I'm a notary. I make my living off the destruction of those creatures. I can't have one living in my house! In the shape of my only living cousin! The Duke of Liutberht… And I don't want it bonding with the son of my tutor!"

Eliza was appalled. "He's done nothing to hurt anyone! You can't think of destroying him when he's only a child!"

"He's not a child. Those things age quicker than humans. He could be our age, stuffed into that body and eating all of our food. Ach, I hate myself for not knowing sooner! It was only last night when I finally gave him the tip that I knew! I gave him the Ring of Liutberht, and I saw how he cringed at its iron. I may not know my destiny, but he knows his, and it's coming for him very soon."

"Why did you do that!? The poor thing was probably terrified! They're not monsters. They're people. I saw one take my mother once. It was a person."

Roderich recoiled at her furious face. No, no, he was losing her. She had to love him. This had to happen today, no later. Otto was a technicality. Otto had to be destroyed. No, not Otto. The thing posing as Otto. The thing that wasn't Otto… Otto wasn't… He'd always acted the way he did…

"I'm only eight years old," he'd said so sweetly, so innocent.

Bullshit. Everything was bullshit.

"Eliza, if imps are people, then you have to realize not all people are good. And if this creature we've been feeding and calling family has entered Edelweiss in the name of his own selfishness, leaving the real Otto imprisoned, hurt, or even killed, then it deserves to be destroyed."

The power in his words overtook her, but she was not done fighting.

"Answer me one question. Do you love Otto?"

"I… do."

"What do you love about him?"

Roderich could say nothing. If the Otto he knew was never the real Otto, then all hatred toward his impishness was justified. Every kick in the pants was well-deserved, no product of Roderich's insecurities! Roderich loved nothing about that boy. All kind sentiments were banished by the way he looked at the Ring of Liutberht. How dare that creature!? How dare it think it was better than the humans it ate from!? It was so easy for man to turn once his fellow's fault was revealed!

"I don't know what to say."

Sorrow. She'd seen it before, but never so cleanly. He was grieving for a boy he thought he knew. And now she found herself grieving, too, though she found some wrong in it. All was uneasy, like the gathering clouds. Perhaps she shouldn't be so harsh when loss was in the air… creatures deserved love, but so did a boy called Otto… and so did a girl called Eliza.

Roderich was taller than her. When did that happen?

There was too much tension. Something had to be done. Both felt it. Both wanted to lean in. Both wanted to reveal once and for all what poisons burned beneath, if only to satiate those confusing feelings and needless desires…

But both released each other and solemnly left the room of Ulrich and Gertrude, wanting nothing more than the wind in their faces to wash all warmth away.

~N~

This episode was split into two parts due to length. See next chapter!

Published by Syntax-N on FanFiction . Net August 20th, 2020. Drink water. Don't repost.