After the End by lyradaemon
Chapter 5: Ebony calls
Disclaimer: Same as before…
So…this chapter might seem a little pointless, but I promise that it does have some significance. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing – especially GreenWarrior, kestrel2106 and KLMeri. Please keep sending in those reviews! (Oh, and please read my other BJT fanfic 'If I didn't have you'!) By the way, fanfiction doesn't like asterisks, so the psyhic stuff is written in italics. Sorry if its so confusing...
Daemon and Jaenelle were in her workroom. They had been in there for almost two hours now and Daemon was getting restless. He was lounging in a chair with his chin in his hand, gazing off into space. Jaenelle was concentrating fiercely on her latest project – whatever that was; she had refused to tell him what she was doing. Finally Daemon broke the silence.
"Jaenelle? Can I ask you something?"
Jaenelle looked up, slightly startled to find that he was still there. "Of course," she replied, looking back at her work. She stared at what she was holding in her hands, then decided to give up on it; she came over to Daemon and climbed into his lap, snuggling up with her head in the crook of his shoulder. She felt safe in those warm, strong arms. So safe.
"What did you want to ask me?" She murmured.
"Jaenelle…do you think I can reach Ebony?"
He felt her tense in his arms and her heart beat wildly against his chest; he just continued to hold her, stroking her back soothingly. "What?"
He sighed. "I want to know whether I can reach Ebony – or get close to it."
"Why?"
Here he paused. He did have a reason; it was just so…complex. And strange. "Jaenelle, I know that my Jewels are slightly darker, slightly stronger than the average Black," he began.
Jaenelle chuckled at that. "I wouldn't say that Black was average," she said. He ignored that.
"But it's true," he continued. "You know it is; so does Saetan and Lucivar. I know that my power is stronger than the Black; I want to see how much stronger."
Jaenelle didn't say anything for a minute. Finally she sighed heavily. "I trust what you're saying Daemon, yet I don't understand your reason for wanting to do this. But you must promise me one thing."
"Anything."
"Do not force it. If you cannot go further than the Black, please – I beg you by the Darkness – do not push. Otherwise you will break yourself."
"I promise." Jaenelle kissed his neck in acknowledgement.
"So, what do I do?" He asked.
"You do what you normally would, as if you were simply descending to the Red or Black. Sink into the abyss, to the level of the Black, then wait. When you feel ready, slowly sink down below the Black – each Jewel level is like a web; you know that from when…from when you had to stop me, after…after what I did," here she swallowed and paused. Daemon stroked her back, urging her gently to continue. "So, you sink below the Black, below the web that you know, and slowly look below you. The abyss is endless…all you will see is black, and Darkness."
Daemon knew that she hadn't finish. "So do I simply drift down, like I do to the Black?"
"No," she whispered. Why did she sound so afraid? "You must spiral."
"Like a maelstrom." Jaenelle nodded.
"My power is not like yours. You sink and drift in the comfort of the abyss to whatever level you want, and then rise out of it. Witch does not – cannot – do that. Witch must spiral. So you must do that too, otherwise you will never leave the Black."
Daemon took it all in. He still could not say why he wanted to do this, but he did know that he needed to do so. It was if he had to prove something, show that he was not like the others…he shook his head to clear the thoughts. Right now he had to concentrate on this.
"What do I do after that?" He asked.
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"It is something only I know. Something only I am meant to know. It is forbidden to speak of what lies in the abyss to anyone," she replied in that haunting midnight voice.
He knew he shouldn't ask, but he had to. "Who forbade you? Lorn?"
At this she looked him straight in the eye. "Not Lorn. Ebony. The Darkness. What I Am."
Daemon shuddered. What I Am.
They both remained silent for a minute, then Jaenelle stirred in his arms. "Are you going to do it then?"
"Yes," Daemon replied, then swallowed hard. What was he doing? He arranged himself in the chair then felt Jaenelle settle against him. "Comfortable?" He asked.
In reply she licked the pulse just below his ear, making him shiver.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, then dived.
He had done this countless times before. Pausing to gaze into the abyss below him, he considered the task ahead of him. What if it went wrong? What if he couldn't go below the Black? What if he could? And then became trapped? No one could rescue him, and he'd slowly sink further and further down, into the endless abyss where no one could ever reach him. Where no one had ever been. Except Jaenelle.
There was so much about her that he didn't know, and could never hope to know. She was Witch after all, and despite not having her full powers, she still retained all the mysteries and unknowns which made up who she was. Saetan had once said that there were many facets of which; not like the difference between Daemon Sadi and the Sadist. Jaenelle was made up of countless different dreams, and each dreamer had been different; Human, Kindred, Male, Female. And Dragon.
Yes, he knew about that. He had spoken to Lorn – and Draca – many times since Jaenelle had risen half-dead from those healing webs. They had been devastated at the taint people throughout history had left on the Blood. So they had dreamed too; dreamed of someone who would save them all from destruction. And on one of those occasions, Lorn had something which, at the time, had seemed so strange. He had said, "And the Darkness dream too. Ebony longed for a saviour. A saviour who would possess the power of its Dreamer, who could harness the essence of its Creator. A saviour made out of the very thing we all come from and one day return to. A saviour made from the Darkness…"
Ebony. The Darkness. What I Am.
Daemon shivered as he realised what Jaenelle was. Yes, she was Witch, Dreams Made Flesh. She was the Queen of Ebon Askavi, who ruled the Dark Court. The Daughter of the High Lord's Soul. A bridge between Human and Kindred. His lover. His wife. His soulmate.
Oh yes, she was all of these. But she was more. So much more. Why had no one realised before? Why had Jaenelle not said? Daughter of the Darkness. No. She was the Darkness. Ebony.
Jaenelle was the Darkness. It was that simple. Witch had many Dreamers. And the Darkness had been one of them. She belonged to it and it belonged to her. Which was why she could go further into the abyss than any of the Blood before her had been able to; why she could descend to the Ebony and wield that limitless power with her will.
Daemon could only wonder at it all.
Slowly he became aware that he was hovering at the top of the abyss, and looked down to see the White, and below it he could make out the faint glimmer of Yellow. Better get going, he thought.
And so he began to descend, slowly at first, and then with more speed. Down through White, through Yellow and Tiger Eye. Past Rose, Summer-sky, Purple Dusk. Opal and Green and Sapphire raced by. Then Red, that familiar strength, but he couldn't stop there, had to keep going. Gray, then Ebon-Gray. The Black Ah! That dark, sensual, deep power. It was a part of him, where he belonged. He waited here until he felt ready, just like Jaenelle had told him.
Then, slowly, ever so slowly, he began to spiral.
It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. He felt like the abyss, the world, the very universe were spinning with him, as if the fabric of everything was beginning to unravel. Blackness flashed all around him but he couldn't see…he didn't know which was up and which was down, whether his eyes were open or closed because it was all just so black…
And then it all stopped. Daemon found himself just hovering, suspended immobile in the abyss. Looking up he saw the familiar level of the Black and just above that, through the gloom, he thought he could see Ebon-Gray. Then he looked down.
Below him…stretching as far as he could see was empty, dark blackness. But looking at it closer, he could see that it wasn't just that – it wasn't simply black, like the black of his jewels. In fact, it was blacker than black. It was Ebony.
Beyond and below him, reaching out into the abyss was endless Ebony. It swirled and writhed, something which the abyss above – his abyss – never did. It was alive. Daemon couldn't believe what he was seeing. The abyss is alive he thought to himself. Alive, and seething and twisting and turning. Living. It was beyond what he had ever thought, what he ever could have imagined.
Then from below he thought he could hear something. It was a sound which played just outside his range of hearing; teasing him. He strained to hear, strained with every fibre in him, wanting to know what that sound was. Then it suddenly became clear.
Singing. But not just ordinary singing. This was the songs of Witch; the songs which belonged to Jaenelle and Jaenelle alone. Only once before had Jaenelle sung to him in Witchsong, but it was not something he was going to forget easily. The beauty and power of it swelled all around him, filling his ears and every part of him until he couldn't think, could only hear. The song soared and flowed, crashing like waves on a shore, then spiralling up, away, like a bird, only to fall once more. The sound held so much sorrow and pain and anguish that Daemon would have cried if he could. He didn't know the cause of the sorrow or hurt, but he knew that it was old as time, as old as the song itself, as old as Witch.
But at the same time it was comforting, accepting, embracing. The tumult of emotions which hit Daemon sent him reeling; love, hate, despair, hope, rejection, acceptance, pain, healing, suffering, kindness… The facets of Witch.
Oh Jaenelle, he thought, if only we'd known what you really are! If only you had sung these songs, shared it with us, maybe we could have understood. But you wouldn't and we didn't understand, no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn't understand. We knew you were Witch, Dreams Made Flesh. We knew that you were special but we couldn't see the extent. But now I know. You are more than we thought, more than we could every dream. And it's so beautiful.
It was. All around him, beauty soared. The abyss, Jaenelle's abyss, was simply alive with it.
But why?
Because it is what she wanted.
Daemon's whole being stiffened. What?
You are here because she wanted it.
Who are you? How do you know?
I am the Darkness. Mother Night. Ebony. Whatever you want to call me. Jaenelle had a Dream, a Dream which scared and terrified her, because it foretold that she would lose someone. She knew that she would have to act when the time came, have to use her powers, her strength.
Use Twilight's Dawn? (Daemon)
If it could have chuckled, it would have. No. Her real powers: Ebony. She realised that she would have to re-awaken her powers which were lying dormant. But she was afraid and so searched for another way.
Did she find one? (Daemon)
How could she? There is only one way, and she knew it.
But why is this all so…immense? Why does it scare her so much? Can't she just use her healing powers instead? (Daemon)
Jaenelle was never supposed to give up her powers the way she had done. In fact, many believe that she should not have survived the unleashing of her strength on the Blood. But she did survive, thanks to the Kindred. And you, Daemon. She has relied on you so much since she rose from the healing-webs. But now fate is trying to change things. She is not supposed to wear Twilight's Dawn. She is Witch, she is Dreams Made Flesh and she should wear the Ebony – the Jewels of the Darkness. That is her fate and her destiny and she cannot – must not – hide from it.
So fate is throwing something in her way to make her take back her power? A trick?
Yes. She must accept who she is – she has always found that hard. And you must help her, afterwards, so accept it. Otherwise she will simply tear herself apart.
Who will be the victim?(Daemon)
That, you cannot know. Only time will tell. But you must help Jaenelle in her acceptance; otherwise she will be lost to you. The Darkness will claim her and you will not be able to reach her again.
Surely I could just come down here to the abyss and find her?
It almost sounded sad. You are here because you were summoned. You may never come here again.
But who summoned me?
The Darkness did. And Jaenelle. You had to see what she really is in order to help her. But afterwards the way is blocked to you. You may not come here again.
Jaenelle knew about this? She knew that I would come here?
Of course she did. She wanted you to come, so you did. She helped you come here. But now, you must leave. This is not a place for Humans, even though you are who you are.
And who is that? (Daemon)
Witch's other half. Her lover, her soul mate. You were born to help her Daemon, and you have done so. But you must continue your task a little longer, in order to help her.
But-
No, Daemon. You have been told all you are allowed to know. You must return now to your world. And remember who Jaenelle is, Daemon. Remember, and help. Otherwise she will simply break apart. A shattered chalice, never to be whole again…
And with that, the Presence was gone.
Daemon was exhausted. The burden of what he had to do weighed heavily on his shoulders and he felt so weary…he wanted to sleep, to just drift away in the darkness…
But he must not. He had to return to Jaenelle, he had to help her. He had to leave the abyss.
Slowly he began his ascent. The going was hard because Witchsong continued to play to him, to whisper in his ear and try to coax him down again. But he resisted. He had to, for Jaenelle's sake.
What seemed like an eternity later, Daemon felt the familiar psychic pull of the Black. He looked around and saw that he had risen that far, and above him was Ebon-Gray, and beyond, in the gloom, was the Gray. Gathering his strength around him, he soared upwards, away from the Black, away from what lay below in the depths of the abyss. Red rushed by him, then Sapphire and Green. And always he was going up, away from that haunting place which he should never have seen…Rose, the Tiger-Eye, the a flash of Yellow and White…
Then, finally, he burst up, out of the abyss and away from the mysteries which lay hidden there.
"Daemon? Daemon, come on, wake up…"
Daemon felt himself shaken lightly as a familiar voice spoke to him, coaxing him up out of his state of exhaustion. So tired…
"Come on Daemon, you're tired. If you come with me you can go to bed, and you can sleep. You just have to wake up, come on…" Her voice continued to cajole and coax, and eventually Daemon awoke enough to get himself up, and out the room; along the corridors, to his room, to his bed…He saw the bed through the fog of fatigue and just managed to make it there before he fell down in a half-faint. So tired.
"Sleep now Daemon. Just sleep…" was all he heard before he sank into a welcome sleep.
A/N: Well. That was all very odd. I've just re-read it and I have no idea what possessed me to write it. I know it seems really, really strange and all, but it's what popped out of my head, so I just threw it all down. I'm sorry if it seems far-fetched, or if it's drifted away from what Ms. Bishop wrote (which it most certainly has). Please read and review anyway, and tell me what you think. I suppose if you hate that much I could just scrap it and write something else… R&R people! PLEASE! Otherwise I won't update… (yes, that is a threat!) Love, a rather confused lyradaemon