AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter takes place 10 years after Morpheus is first captured, but before Roderick Burgess has met Ethel Cripps. It's been a bit of a challenge to write Devika thus far considering she is very much still a kid and yet has lived over double the years. It makes her maturity level a little difficult to place correctly. I hope it flows nicely with how I've done it.
Enjoy my lovelies.
With every step downstairs I felt colder, like the air was turning frigid around me. I half expected to see my breath in front of my face. I wasn't sure if it was the realization that the little bit of freedom I had was over, or if it was the fact that I was about to lose the only comfort I had in this place.
I had never gone beyond the walls of this house. As big as it was, it was my prison. I wasn't even allowed into the backyard, I was rarely even allowed downstairs. The only way I experienced the outside world was through the windows that were locked up tight. Even mama got to leave sometimes, but never me.
Mama kept a firm grip on my hand as she lead me down the steps, her hand was far warmer than I felt. Was this truly to be the last time that I would feel her soothing touch? To see her face?
The time I had with her didn't feel like enough. It had been so many years, far longer than it would have taken any mortal to turn twelve. I didn't feel twelve, I still felt so little, and yet not at the same time. I needed her. How long would it take me to stop aging like she said? I still had so many questions.
Surely I hadn't learned enough yet, there was so much more she had planned to teach me. I couldn't do this, I couldn't be like her. I would only disappoint father, and I knew what would happen were I to dissatisfy him.
The journey downstairs ended far quicker than I would have liked, and there he was.. the monster of the manor. He stood in the center of a small circle that was attached to a much larger one, it was surrounded with the same runes that were violently painted into mama's skin. There was one more small circle attached to the bigger one, it was right across the circle from father.
Mama moved us both forward, she gently pushed me into the center of the larger circle while she stood in the smaller one at my back.
"I love you." Her voice was so soft I wasn't sure she had even spoke or if my mind was conjuring up what I so desperately wanted to hear.
All at once, her hand left mine and her touch was gone. The warmth fled with her, it was in that moment that I knew I wouldn't feel her touch again.
Father held a large tome in his hands, it was aged, and what I could see of the cover was cracked, like it might fall apart at any moment. Was it mamas?
For a long moment, father said nothing, he just sneered down his nose at me. Like I was dirt underneath his shoe. He looked at me how I looked at brussels sprouts.
And then.. he started speaking and the binding circles sparked to life. They glowed a violent and angry red and the runes seemed to be burning into the floorboards. I was rooted in place, and it wasn't just in fear. It was like my feet were stuck to the floor, and they were burning.
A whimper caught in my throat, the sound coming out strangled. The heat was getting worse, and it was traveling. The fire slithered up my legs and into my torso, it flooded into my arms and seeped into my throat. I wanted to scream, maybe I was, I couldn't be sure. I couldn't hear father anymore, I couldn't hear anything over the roar in my ears.
The pain hit me next, something was carving into my wrists. But when I looked down through my tears, there was nothing there - just like the monster in my Nightmares. The lines formed harshly, and there was so much blood. It dripped to the floor in rivulets, pooling near my feet.
Suddenly, it all stopped, and the circle was extinguished, blown out like a candle. Smoke rose from the burns in the floor.
I felt it then, the absence of her at my back. The air was cold, like the descent down the stairs had been. Only it was so much worse now. She was gone, just like she had said she'd be, as was the Grimoire from father's hands.
"What did you do?!" He snarled, his hand reaching past the circle to enclose on my forearm, his grip constricting like a snake coiling around it's prey.
I couldn't answer, I couldn't speak even if I wanted to. My tongue felt like lead, my mouth might as well have been stuffed with cotton. My whole body shook with the effort it was taking me to stand, I felt so drained and everything ached.
Father shook me violently, his fingers cutting off the blood flow to the rest of my arm. It mixed with the rest of the pain, swirling all together and making my vision swim in front of me.
All the sudden, my knees gave out until the only thing suspending me in the air was his unyielding hold. I felt like a marionette with it's strings cut.
He scoffed, a disgusted tone coiling in the back of his throat as he shoved me away from him and onto the floor. My shoulder took the brunt of the impact, a resounding pop echoing in the otherwise deathly quiet room. I think I shrieked then, but I couldn't hear it. I was sure he had dislocated my shoulder from the joint.
A shoe connected with my stomach next, stealing the limited air I had from my lungs. My body curled on instinct, trying to protect the vital organs.
"I didn't-" I couldn't finish the sentence.
The next kick was harder and I felt something crack inside me as I cried out.
I couldn't tell him that I had known this would happen, had known she would be gone. I hadn't expected it to be instantaneous, I thought I would get to look at her at least once more.. But maybe it was easier this way, the abrupt way it had happened. It was like she hadn't even been here at all.
I had to lie, and I needed to do it well.
Forcing the words passed my lips was harder than I had hoped it would be, the sentence coming out disjointed.
"I don't- I di-didn't, I swear." The words were slurred, and I wasn't even sure if he had heard the words or just my attempt at speech.
He turned on his heel and thundered out of the room, leaving me to my tears.
In the years that followed, I tried so hard to gain control over my Nightmares. Tried to twist them into dreams like he had made. I could manage to become lucid sometimes, realizing I was in fact dreaming, but most of the time I was trapped. Trapped with the monster that hunted me in the dark of my subconscious. My life seemed to be full of monsters, none of which I could truly escape.
I attempted everything I could think of to find my Sandman, spells and potions, calling for him with every title I knew he possessed. Nothing brought me closer to The King of Dreams. Wherever he was, he was out of my reach, nothing drew him back to me.
And with every passing day, I gave up a little more.
"You are to behave yourself, is that clear?"
It wasn't an order, the runes always burned when it was an order. It was a 'suggestion' that I knew better than to disobey.
Mama had well and truly vanished, her Grimoire disappearing with her. All I had left was what she had already taught me, the rest I had to make up in experimentation. Mama always warned me against too much experimenting, it was dangerous, but what choice did I have?
Father was vicious in the time it took me to get my bearings, his anger at mama's disappearance stoking his fury. The only spell before that horrid night that I had any practical experience in was the one to slow the ravages of time. My overall safety had been dependent on that one alone.
The only semblance of warmth in the manor had departed when mama had. Father had me move anything useful of hers into my room before he locked the room up. As far as I was aware, he hadn't opened it since.
I couldn't help but wonder if he missed her at all? If he was even capable of that? Or maybe he just missed having another person to abuse. Even if he did miss her, he didn't deserve to, he didn't even deserve to think her name. He imprisoned her, defiled her, beat her.
Wherever she was now, I hope she was becoming happy again. Was she thinking of me? Did she find her mother again, or her familiar?
My heart ached for both the loss of her, and the denial of a bond with my own familiar.
Pulling myself from my thoughts I forced myself to answer him.
"Yes father."
"Good, now come."
Smoothing out my dress, I followed behind him. Today was the first day I was going to be allowed to leave the house. Most of father's 'clients' came to us directly, they paid him an obscene amount to receive my 'blessings'. I cured them of illness, made tinctures for their whims, hexed their enemies. Everything I was capable of was for sale, as long as the payment satisfied my father's greed.
Whoever we were going to see, they had to be important for father to agree to go to them instead.
The drive was exciting, not that I could show how it pleased me. There was so much to look at, I could barely take it all in. Riding in a car was different, but not a bad sort of different.
The journey took longer than I expected. Streets and buildings had bled away to trees and wide country. It was midday by the time we pulled up to a large manor, larger than our own, Fawney Rigg the driver said.
"Remember what I said." Father didn't wait for a response before he got out of the car, telling our driver to wait until our business was concluded.
A young man met us at the door, he was older than I was by what looked to be several mortal years. I wasn't sure what age he was supposed to be, it was so hard to tell. Without mama, I wasn't sure how I was going to track my own age. It brought back the question of when I would stop aging, how many years from now? I wish I had asked her.
The manor was opulent, but in a different way than ours. The interior was darker, and there were all manners of things on display. There were heavy curtains hanging from the upstairs landing, and all the furniture seemed to be set in the same dark tones as the rest of the place.
The young man, whose name was apparently Alex, led us into a parlor. An older man with a stern face awaited us. He looked to be older than father, with his whitened hair and the harsh frown lines on his face. But I wasn't sure, I had never actually asked father how old he was.
"Mr. Barlowe, how good to see you again."
"And you, Mr. Burgess."
"This is your daughter then?" The man asked, skipping any further pleasantries. His voice had a no-nonsense air about it, just like father. His eyes were mean too as he stared down his rather large nose at me.
"Yes, this is Devika. Devika, say hello to Mr. Burgess." Father sounded so... nice. This definitely wasn't one of his usual clients. Just who was this man?
"Hello, sir."
"So polite, your father has taught you well." He shot a dark look towards Alex who I assumed to be his son. Were all powerful men horrible to their children, or were we just unlucky?
I forced myself not to cringe at how 'polite' I was, as if it hadn't been beaten into me. I wanted to scream, I wanted to be anything other than polite.
"Devika, you are to help Mr. Burgess how you help me." The runes burned my wrists.
Of course I was, what else could a man this wealthy want? I gestured to the armchair closest to us, deciding it was best to get right to it.
"Please, sir, if you could sit down?"
He raised an eyebrow, but did as I asked, his cane resting beside him.
"How does this work, girl?"
I moved to stand in front of him, extending my hand towards him. "Think of it as me slowing things down for a time." I tried to smile but I was pretty sure it just came out as a grimace. "Your hand, sir."
There was a moments hesitation, but just a moment. I had a feeling he didn't like being told what to do.
He set his hand in mine and I clasped it between my own. I barely managed to conceal my shiver of disgust as his emotions and aura swept over me. He was vile and twisted, just like father.. he had done terrible things.
I forced myself to focus, the words were practiced, easy. They flew from my mouth rapidly, barely audible to anyone else in the room. The pull in my sternum was familiar, the blood in my veins thrumming to life. As usual whenever I used healing magic, I was filled with a giddy sort of sensation. It was like I too was filled with life, all my cells and neurons lighting up.
The incantation faded off my tongue and with it the feeling inside me retreated too. When I focused back on Mr. Burgess's face, I could see the faint smoothing of the lines on his face. His hand shook minutely as I released him from my grip. Mortals had a hard time processing magic mama always said.
"How do you feel Mr. Burgess?" Father was grinning.
His intense gaze met my father's, bypassing me completely like I wasn't even there. I took two steps to the side, putting some distance between me and him. I didn't matter anymore, he had gotten what he paid for and I would never get a thank you.
"I feel healthier than I have in years." He confessed, standing from the chair.
"I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Burgess." My father smiled, but it didn't fit his face. It was crooked and wrong, like someone had stuck paper to his mouth and drawn the smile blindly. Once again, I found myself curious about this Mr. Burgess. Who was he that my father saw fit to defer to him? Father was always the most conceited man in the room, always high on power.
"I would like regular visits." He announced, and I knew it wasn't a request.
"Of course." My father nodded once. "So long as I am paid Mr. Burgess, she is at your service."
"I suppose that is how you control her?" He gestured his cane towards my wrists. Quickly, I shoved my sleeves back down over my hands.
"Yes, keeps her quite docile." There it was, that smug satisfaction in his voice.
Alex's eyes met mine between the two men, there was sympathy in his gaze. His eyes held a whirlwind of emotions behind them, he lacked the cold gaze of his father. Did he take after his mother? Did he even have one, or was she gone like mine?
"Come, let us talk in my study." Mr. Burgess gestured out of the room, already walking away from the three of us.
"Behave yourself and stay here." Father thrust his finger into my face. "You will not embarrass me." The order settled into my skin, tying me into place.
"Alex, tea!" Mr. Burgess shouted over his shoulder.
Alex gave me one last look, his eyes sad.. and then he was gone, and I was alone.
Not even a minute had gone by when it happened.
