Carnelian- Dreams and Visions

by M. D. Grimm

  I paused. He said nothing.

  “Also, if you, um, need to sleep elsewhere, I can arrange it.” I stubbornly kept my tears back. “I have a lot of rooms. You can pick whichever one you like. Or you can leave. Your choice.” My voice cracked. I couldn’t continue. My heart felt shriveled and near death.

  “You’d let me walk away, wouldn’t you?” he asked, his voice soft. “You’d simply stand and watch me pack. Watch me leave? Never try and stop me?”

  I couldn’t speak. I nodded.

  “Morgorth.” His gentleness nearly undid me. I cleared my throat and gripped my knees, my knuckles turning white. “Did you not hear anything I said to Suvar? Look at me.”

  I didn’t want to. I turned my head and looked at his face. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “I have no wish to leave,” he said. “I have no wish to abandon you or to leave our bed. I wouldn’t mind a new bedroom, since where we sleep now is where the demon was destroyed. But I still want to share a bed with you.”

  I dared a glance at his eyes. The green was bright with honesty. He was telling me the truth. The constriction of my chest slowly eased. I began to breathe easier.

  “You took my choice away from me,” he said.

  I winced.

  He smiled. “I understand why, considering what has happened. But you shouldn’t have done it.”

  “I know.”

  He considered me. “You’ll do it again, won’t you?”

  I took a deep breath and allowed myself a moment to choose my next words. “I’ll say this: I can’t promise I won’t do that again. I just can’t. It’s a promise I wouldn’t be able to keep. The longer you’re with me, the more you will see of my world and the dangers in it, and the more you’re exposed and shown how vulnerable you can be. I try to negotiate with you, I do try, I swear. I try to reason and to show you why I think and feel the way I do. And I try to understand your perspective, your thoughts and feelings. But at the end of the day, I’d rather you pissed at me than dead.” I paused and my voice softened. “I am so sorry I hurt you.”

  It was his turn to take a breath. I knew that was hard for him to swallow, and I admired his ability to do so. It was one of his many qualities I admired.

  “All right,” he said, grudgingly. “Although, I can’t promise I won’t be pissed should you do that again. I can’t promise I won’t punch you in the face and withhold sex until you’re begging me for it.”

  I smiled, a small laugh escaping me. I was still close enough to tears that I swallowed most of the laugh. I didn’t want to fall into hysterics.

  “I understand,” I said. More silence.

  “I also can’t say I’ll be fine anytime soon,” he said. He regarded me, aching sadness in his eyes, his expression. “I know it wasn’t you. I know that here—” He tapped his heart. “But here—” He tapped his head. “I can’t shake the images, or the emotions. I can’t forget the anguish I felt when I saw you destroy my tribe, then torture me.”

  My magick flared to the surface in a flash of fury. I wished I could destroy the demon again, chop off Suvar’s head again. Aishe flinched and actually leaned away from me, eyes downcast. I swallowed bitterly, acid burning my throat. I shoved down the magick and it boiled all the way down to my core. He was afraid of me. I wouldn’t help by giving into my fury now. I needed to show him I wasn’t only rage and hate. I could also love and show kindness. Because of him I could be gentle.

  “That wasn’t me.” My voice was hoarse.

  “I know. But I’ve seen you....” He trailed off. He didn’t need to finish. He’d seen me at my worst. He knew what I was capable of doing to someone. He always thought himself immune. Now he had a vision of what I could do to him should I become completely unhinged. Who said I wouldn’t? That vision in Dreamworld still haunted me. Would always haunt me. This wasn’t the time to tell him. This was the time for reassurance.

  The vision played teasingly at the back of my mind. Aishe falling to the ground, dead, constantly repeated. I suspected my own sleep would be fitful for a very long time.

  “I’ve seen your darkness,” he said softly. “I’ve feared it. Now I’ve had it thrown at me, even if it wasn’t really you.”

  “The demon knew what you knew,” I said. “He knew how to use your own knowledge against you. Funny, really. You know me so well and the demon used that against you.”

  He looked at me. “It’s not funny.”

  I sighed. “No. If I could fix this, I would. If I could remove those memories, I would in a heartbeat. But I’d only do more damage. Besides, you’ve had your brain messed with enough. First Dyrc, then the council’s spell, now the demon. It’s a wonder you’re still sane.”

  I ran a hand over my hair, frustrated. Then I looked straight into his eyes. “Aishe, I will never harm you. Never. You know that. You see me. See me now.” I’d asked him to do that before, in his dream, but I felt the need for him to do so again. Now we were calm, out of danger, and I wanted him to see the real me—the me he somehow managed to conjure, the me I never thought I could be. It was because of him I could laugh, find joy and pleasure in life, be gentle and kind, and have empathy for others. It was because of him I wanted to do all those things. It was only truth I spoke when I told him he was my heart. I didn’t think I had much of a heart until him.

  He stared. I didn’t flinch or blink. The moment dragged on, and I didn’t move or become impatient. I wanted him with me, and I would do anything to make that happen.

  He smiled and it was the most beautiful sight I would ever see. “I do see you.”

  I exhaled sharply.

  He reached across the distance and touched my hand. “I see something even better. I see us.”

  My throat threatened to close. I gripped his hand. “I will never harm you with my magick,” I said. “If you don’t believe in anything, believe that.” The vision flashed to the forefront of my mind. That vision would never come true. Never.

  “I love you,” I said. “I love you more than anything. Harming you would be like harming myself. If you were a deity I’d become your most devoted worshipper.”

  He chuckled. My heart sang to see his smile and hear his joy.

  “What can I do, baby?” I asked a moment later, desperate. “What can I do to help you? I’ll do anything, just ask.”

  He considered my words and scooted closer. He laid his head on my shoulder. I took a deep breath of his scent. “Be there, my love,” he said softly. “Be there when I need you. Don’t leave me.”

  I kissed the top of his head. He’d said those words to me before. “I promise.”

  ***

  One week later

  We still hadn’t had sex and it was beginning to bug me. Since meeting Aishe, we didn’t go a day without making love. Abruptly going without was decidedly uncomfortable. It reassured me, however, that he was touching me now, and the distance between us in bed slowly shrank, until we were side-by-side again. We talked and some of the tension and awkwardness faded. Yet he had insomnia and, when he did sleep, it was never for long. The nightmares plagued him as if the demon still tormented him. After the second night of disturbed sleep, I told him about a simple sleep spell I could use on him that would act as a barrier to memories. It was a spell Master Ulezander had taught me, and I told him in detail what it could do for him. Then I asked for his permission to use it, and he agreed. I assured him he wouldn’t have any dreams he’d remember. It couldn’t be used every night without side effects, so some nights he got more sleep than others. It was a hard week for both of us. I had my own troubles with sleep, and I couldn’t use the spell on myself. Along with the visceral attack by my victims, and the agony that was my childhood, I had the vision of Aishe dying to contend with. It wouldn’t leave me alone. I would tell him, but not now. I needed him to trust me again. I didn’t consider it a secret so much as delayed truth. It was a fine line, except how could he trust me again if I told him I had a vision of killing him? Aishe was amazingly understanding, an
d yet that was asking too much, even from him.

  It wasn’t just the vision and what it entailed that disturbed me, it was that the Mother sent it. No matter what species or culture, the general consensus was all visions came from the Mother, directly from her mind into her children’s minds. That vision seemed to spring up out of nowhere and when I needed it the most. I’d lost my way, completely and utterly, and she’d seen that. Did that mean she was actively watching me? Or perhaps traversing Dreamworld made me closer to her, since she journeyed through dimensions at a whim? I didn’t know, I could only speculate. She wasn’t very forthcoming with answers, no matter how loudly I shouted at the sky.

  She was helping the supposed Destroyer of a world she had created with her own hands, formed by her own magick, grown from her love. It confused the hell out of me. What did she want from me? What was the point of any of this? The lack of answers was another reason I didn’t say anything to him.

  I also thought of my victims more than I ever had before. Most of my dreams were centered around them. There were no words to describe the supreme guilt and regret I felt. Most hadn’t been the best of creatures, the most productive of society. That didn’t mean they deserved my wrath. That didn’t mean I had the right to take their lives, to revel in the pain and suffering just to calm my own damaged psyche.

  Most days Aishe spent either in the library or Vorgoroth. We had meals together, and some evenings we went on short walks. It felt like we were getting to know each other again, courting in a way we didn’t do even in the beginning. I found hope from the gradual progress.

  However, the distance from him, the tension between us, caused a deadly side effect.

  The Stones of Power.

  “I have ten stones at my disposal, you know.” I said. “All within arm’s reach. I need only stretch out my hand and....” I sighed. “I’ve used two, now, and I’m not proud of it.”

  I sat outside on top of one of my highest towers. Three gargoyles, Clyde, Lerk, and Nadya, crouched in front of me, tilting their heads as I talked to them. Well, it was mostly like talking to myself. The gargoyles weren’t very smart.

  “What stones have you used?” Nadya asked. She was the—slightly—smarter of the three.

  “Stones. Stones!” Clyde said. It was his favorite word, and his ears perked with excitement.

  Their voices were barely intelligible growls that resembled stone grinding against stone.

  I rolled my eyes at them. I had no one else to talk to about this shit. I wished for Enfernlo, but he was on a different continent with his colony.

  “I’ve used Atcoatlu and Drefeln,” I said to Nadya. “But there’s also Ellegrech. I’ve only touched her, and yet her sweet lullaby still echoes in my head. She tried to trick me, you see. She said she understood my pain, that she would take it away. That’s her personality, I guess you could say. She claims to want to help those who can’t help themselves. The weak and needy. Then there’s the damn ruby, Rambujek.”

  The major stone of war. In many ways, the ruby started the snowball down the hill, so many things branched off from her. A pattern wove around her once she’d come into my life, but I couldn’t see the entire picture, not yet.

  “I want to use Atcoatlu. Even knowing all I do, I want to use her. I want to travel back in time and prevent all this from happening. I want kill Suvar before he can summon the demon. I want to keep Aishe with me, since I’ll know what Elorn plans to do. A damn addict is what I am.”

  I dragged a hand through my hair. The three gargoyles tilted their heads one way, then the other, ears twitching. Their eyes weren’t vacant, but oddly innocent. Considering I created them, they had simple minds. I couldn’t manage anything more complex. I suppose they had minds like children.

  “What the Mother has written, let no one unwrite,” I said, repeating the mantra Master Ulezander had hammered into me from the start. I wanted to talk to him about all this as well, but shame kept me away.

  How could I tell him that I found myself sitting in my stone vault more than ever before? That I spent hours sitting on the floor, staring at the crystal pedestal, contemplating the dome arching over the stones. I could hear each of their songs, each rising and falling in intensity. As far as I knew, I was one of the only creatures alive who had ever used a stone of power and then turned away from it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t an addict. It was the price I had to pay.

  Even now, while not in their presence, my hands slightly trembled, and the desire to touch the stones again, to use them again, was immense. I wanted to feel their power and invincibility. I wanted to succumb to their sense of moral ambiguity, their lack of consciousness. I’d defeated them once, yes, but could I do so again? I told myself I had a good reason to use Drefeln, and with Atcoatlu there hadn’t been a choice, since I needed to return to my own time. The knowledge didn’t stop the effects of the using.

  I saw it so clearly: I could take Atcoatlu and shape the past, present, and future how I saw fit. I could take Drefeln and scour Dreamworld for demons, destroy them as I had the other. I could take Ellegrech and Rambujek, and the other major stones, and destroy the Council of Mages. I could destroy everything and everyone I didn’t like, those I didn’t need. I could make the world safe for Aishe. Truly safe. No one would touch a single hair on his head if they were all dead.

  There was one major flaw in that fantasy, however: Aishe wouldn’t be mine, then. He’d be leading the rebellion against me. He’d shun me, hate me. Hate me as much as he loved me. I wouldn’t do that to him or to us. The stones would destroy everything we were trying to rebuild. They didn’t bring happiness, only desperation, destruction.

  I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

  “Want to hear a joke?” Lerk said, interrupting my dark thoughts.

  “No.”

  “What did one stone say to the other stone?”

  Apparently he didn’t care I said no, and he wasn’t afraid of my wrath if he told another lame joke.

  I stared at him, at his eager face, and my shoulder slumped. “I don’t know, Lerk. Tell me, what did one stone say to the other stone?”

  “Move out of my way, rockhead, I’m trying to roll down this hill.” He hooted with laughter and fell onto his back, choking with his guffaws.

  I continued to stare at him, my mouth slightly open in incredulity. Why did I give them a sense of humor again? “Moron. You’re a moron.”

  Clyde and Nyla chuckled at the joke. I shook my head at them. I hopped off the ledge and waved farewell. Within five minutes after my leaving, they’d forget the entirety of our conversation. They’d only remember that I had spoken to them.

  I descended the stairs, my mind returning to the stones.

  The scary thing was, I wanted to use them. Despite all my knowledge, all the evidence I’d seen firsthand of their destructive natures, I wanted to use them again. I wanted to know what the other stones in my possession would feel like, especially the four major stones of power. No one knew the actual number of stones hidden around Karishian, so I couldn’t know what percentage of stones I had in my possession. I suspected even Master Ulezander didn’t have more than one or two major stones. He never told me the exact number he owned.

  I found myself in front of the invisible door that led to the vault. I laid my forehead against it and closed my eyes. I didn’t need to go in there to see the pedestal, the stones. It was all to clearly set in my mind.

  They sat there, glittering, tempting vipers waiting to strike. They gave false promises, deceit in all they did. Each had its own personality, even though every single one wanted destruction, they wanted to twist and corrupt their users, often sending them to an early death.

  I knew all that. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I still wanted to use them.

  I thought of Puejuek, the peridot buried under Happy Valley. It was mine and yet not. It kept the village harmonious, prosperous, safe. But considering what I knew about the stones, I knew somewhere in the world, there was something horrible h
appening to counterbalance Puejuek’s use. Puejuek bestowed the blessings of the Mother on a person or place, and the guardianship of Puejuek had been passed down from mother to daughter for centuries. The ill effects of the stone would then be seen as normal, considering the length of the stone’s use. Perhaps I should deactivate it, imprison it with the others. Happy Valley would fall to chaos, but what was the fate of a few compared to the fate of many? I was essentially between a rock and a hard place.

  Legend said the first seven mages ever born created the stones. There’d been a battle between the Mother and dark entities from before the Mother’s existence. They were called formoryans. She locked them up in a cage called Oblivion, on the edges of her realm, but they fought and nearly got out. The Mother needed help to defeat them. She created mages and they, in turn, created the stones. After the battle was won, the mages began to squabble over the stones and realized how dangerous they were. Unable to destroy what they created, the seven mages hid the stones in various places around Karishian. Throughout history, they were discovered, used, then lost again.

  As far as I knew from my historical research, there were more stones being discovered now, in my generation, than ever before. My gut told me something was coming. Something big and bad and world-changing. What it was, I couldn’t begin to even guess. I also couldn’t shake the feeling I was a part of it somehow. Arrogant? Perhaps. Yet I was the third seventh son of a seventh son to be born, and I hadn’t gone insane, yet, like my predecessors did when they reached my age.

  My destiny was to become the Destroyer of Karishian. It was one of the reasons I kept the stones in my possession. I wanted to prove to myself I controlled them, not the other way around. Could I think that anymore? Yes, I’d controlled and discarded two stones, touched and nearly used a third, but did that mean I could use the others without ill effect? It was scary how much I wanted to test that theory.