Smoke filled the sky. Detonations of wide area magic blanketed the battlefield in deafening roars. One such explosion sent a knight crashing to the ground at my feet. Her body mangled, limbs twisted, and her chestnut hair covered her face. I bent down and moved the hair from her face. It was Chiara. Her face was a rictus of shock and pain. I closed her eyes, stood back up, and walked towards the thickest parts of the battle.
The screams of pain, rage, and battle lust blended with the discordant musics of everyone’s mana and the subsequent spells being released. The air stank of ozone and burned flesh and hair. Lightning arced from a dhampir knight on my left and collided with an invisible force barrier on a hill. As my eyes readjusted from the blinding light of the bolt, I caught sight of Stephanie’s honey blonde hair, still matted by dried blood, flying in the wind.
Stephanie.
I started to run towards her, but hands burst from the dirt beneath my feet and grabbed my calves. I stumbled, but managed to stay upright as even more arms surged forward from all around me, grappling me and holding me down. I struggled desperately, trying to claw my way forward. I felt hands moving up my stomach to my chest and wrapping around.
“You cannot go, carissimo,” Ippolita whispered into my ear.
More hands continued wrapping around me, covering my chest, neck and clawing at my face. I tried to scream, but no sound was forthcoming. Fingers dug into my mouth, and I tried to chomp down, to rid myself of all of these shackles, but I lacked the strength. In the distance, the Strega dei morti, Vittoria, walked up beside Stephanie grinning at me. She pulled Stephanie into an embrace, kissing her fully on the mouth. Languidly, she separated from their kiss, then trailed kisses down her neck, and bit firmly into it. All the while, Stephanie remained perfectly motionless, dead, as if nothing was even happening to her. I tried screaming for her, but still, no sound escaped my lips. Tears bled from my eyes, pooling around the fingers still wrapped around my face.
I awoke with a start. My heart was pounding; I could feel my pulse in my ears, and the melody of mana was wailing out of pitch, wobbling between too sharp and too flat. My breaths were coming quickly. My world narrowed to a spot on the ceiling that was entirely out of focus. Blackness crept in along the edges. I rolled over to my side and propped myself up on my elbow, and gripped my chest with my other hand. One deep breath in.
Out.
In.
Out.
I tried to circulate my mana, to bring it back under control. I was partially successful. I closed my eyes, and on my next exhale, I pulsed hard and loud from my core. That alleviated a lot of what I was feeling. It was like snapping a cloth to shake out a wrinkle. There was still some discordance, but at least now I was able to wrangle it back under my full control with normal breathing and circulation.
Six nights and six nightmares. Not all of them were like last night’s; not all of them involved battle, but they always featured Stephanie, and I always failed to reach her—just like I failed to reach her when the ground fell out from under her in the city and again when I saw her on the surface. And then there was that time in the dungeon, I didn’t reach her in time to block the sword that disemboweled her.
No, that didn’t happen. That wasn’t real.
I ran my hand over my face and through my sweat soaked hair. I needed a shower. There was a knock at the door, presumably Fiametta again.
“Come in. I’m decent.”
“Jack, we have different definitions of decent. Do you have a shirt and trousers on?” asked Fiametta on the other side of the door.
“Yes, I…” I started and trailed off. I technically slept in them. I had taken to drinking mana enriched wine to make sleeping easier, and I may have had too much last night and fell asleep in my clothes. “Yes, I’m wearing a shirt and trousers.”
Fiametta opened the door and pushed a cart holding our breakfast and morning tea inside. She took one look at me and shook her head as she pushed the cart up by my breakfast table. Transferring the items to the table, she said, “Jack, did you sleep in your clothes from yesterday?”
I looked away, cheeks alight with embarrassment. Fiametta sighed at me.
“I know it makes it easier to sleep, but please don’t make a habit of drinking alone. Call for me, and I’ll drink with you. It’ll be better with company.”
“The company I want is dead,” I snapped and glared at her. I saw the hurt flash across her face and immediately regretted my words. “I’m sorry; that…” I stopped and looked at my lap. My tongue felt thick in my mouth. Why did I say that? This isn’t like me. “Fiametta,” I started, “what’s happening to me? The nightmares; I wake up to my heart pounding like I’ve just finished running for my life, and it feels like I’m cornered and trapped. My emotions are erratic. I lash out at you and Filippa almost daily.” I looked up at her and searched her face. There was pity, certainly, and even a little of that same hurt, but I didn’t know how I could have hurt her feelings this time. Or is it something else?
“Jack, it’s as her majesty said. You have a heart demon. Everything you’ve experienced since cultivating in the gardens has been because of that. You need to resolve it. For your sake and—well, you won’t be able to move forward without doing so. Now, come and sit. This morning is more of the fruit you like and some honey cakes that are extra dense with mana.”
I sat at the table and poured her and me some tea. Breakfast was a quiet thing. We finished eating quickly without the interruption of conversation. Fiametta stole concerned glances at me, but I was too busy lost in my own head. A week. Six fucking sleepless nights, and what I do have to show for my efforts. A sigh escaped my lips as I stared into the murky burnt umber of my tea. I focused on the feeling of the cup warming my hands as I cradled it near my face.
“So more dance lessons today? Filippa has not asked me to join her for the day.”
“Yes,” I said. I glanced up and caught her frowning. “Sorry, just lost in thought. Yes, more dancing, but if you aren’t going to be there, then I assume she wants to focus on dances that are done in pairs.”
Fiametta nodded along with my words. “I should go.”
“I know, morning practice in the yard.”
Fiametta pushed out her chair and stood. As she walked by me, she squeezed my shoulder, but before she could leave I called out to her.
“Fiametta.” I looked back down in my cup, the tea gently wobbling against the walls of its prison. Relatable.
“If I drink again tonight, I’d…” I trailed off. Words failed me; the embarrassment of lashing out at her was still fresh in my mind.
“I will join you, if you send word,” she said. Then I heard the click of the door. She must have left.
Stupid, stupid. You can’t alienate yourself from the paltry few people you know down here, Jack.
I set the cup down and pinched my brow.
“Fuck it.” I said to the empty room. “Let’s get a shower and get these lessons out of the way.” I had hoped by saying it outloud, I’d bolster myself. I didn’t know if I succeeded.
No mysterious enlightenment found me in the shower, but Principessa Ippolita found me outside of it in the hallway.
“You will be with me all day today, carissimo. We will be cultivating in the gardens until you break through… or succumb to the heart demon.” Her face was placid as she delivered what amounted to little more than a death sentence, but I saw a crack in her expression in her eyes. There was fear there, terrible fear.
“Yes, your majesty,” I said and nodded. I firmed my resolve. We were of the same mind, it seems. This had gone on long enough. It had been a week. It was time to crush whatever this heart demon was. Or die to it and join Stephanie in death.
*****
The gardens were much the same as last time. All week, I’d made the journey through the rings to the same spot as the first time and today wasn’t any different. I sat down and went through my breathing exercises. Unlike all the times before, I repeated exactly what I did on that first evening. I let the mana of E infuse every inch of my body. I didn’t fight the mana or try to control it. I let it wreak havoc inside me, and just as on that first night, I pulsed loud and hard a resounding E—a resonance I shouldn’t be able to make yet. Just like last time, the boiling intensity that felt like I was being scorched from the inside out turned soothing and welcoming.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Show me.
*****
I opened my eyes to Stephanie’s door. Or rather, her old door. This was the door to the suite she and Claudia rented from one of the blacksmiths in the city. My hand was raised next to the door as if I had just knocked or was about to knock. The door swung open, and there she was, looking the same but slightly younger.
“Jack! What are you doing here?” she asked.
What am I doing here? This is when I asked her to dinner, I think. Why am I back here?
She looked me up and down, then covered her mouth hiding a giggle. “Jack, are those for me? Did you come to ask me to dinner?” she asked, pointing at the flowers in my hand.
“Uhm, uh. Yes, yes they are, and yes I did,” I said and offered the flowers to her.
“Who’s that at the door? No one is trying to take you away from us, are they, Stephanie? I know healers are kind of rare, but—Jack. What are you doing here?” Bill asked. He appeared behind here from somewhere else in the suite.
Right. I remember this. I thought she was laughing at me because Bill beat me to the punch, but…
“Stephanie, who’s at the door?” came Claudia’s voice from behind the two of them. She walked into view and saw Bill standing right behind Stephanie, with my face peering between the two of them.
“Bill get over here and stop crowding Stephanie. I told you we weren’t going anywhere.”
…but that was until I saw how he looked at Claudia.
“This is quite funny,” Stephanie said.
“How so?” I asked.
“Bill just came over about an hour ago and confessed undying love to Claudia, so I guess they’re courting now. And here you are, doing the same to me.” She was wearing a mischievous and confident smirk.
I fumbled this the first time. Flustered by the L-word.
“Yes, Stephanie. I love you, and I can’t imagine a life without you.”
Her expression turned dark. “I’m sorry, Jack, but you’re too late.” A woman stepped from around the door that Stephanie had been holding. Her hair was black as pitch and her dress looked as though it were made from shadows, but cut a deep V stretching to her navel, leaving her breasts all but fully exposed. She had long fingernails painted black and caked in blood. She wrapped one arm around Stephanie and gripped a breast possessively, while the other tilted Stephanie’s head back. In one swift motion, she bit down on Stephanie’s neck and groaned in ecstasy, her eyes fluttering to the back of her head.
I couldn’t move, a prisoner in my own body. I couldn’t call out; I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even grit my teeth or clench my hand into a fist. I was frozen.
You’ll always be too late, Jack.
I took everything in. This wasn’t how it happened. She had said yes. We had gone on a date, just us at first. I had taken her to a few shops. I had bought her the necklace that she would die in. We had met up with Bill and Claudia for dinner, and after that I had taken her to my favorite spot in the city: a clocktower that gave an amazing view of the sunset. We had missed the sunset, too crowded during that time anyways. Instead, it had been a cloudless night, and we had watched the stars and had shared our hopes, fears, aspirations, embarrassing moments. We had connected with each other in a way that we had both been missing our entire lives. This… vision was a sham.
No.
With my thoughts, came the crackles of mana.
No, I will never be late again.
I focused hard on my memories, on what actually happened. I pushed them forward. If my voice wouldn’t work, if I couldn’t speak, then I would sing with my mana. I sang the first shitty poem I had written to her. I sang of what she meant to me. I sang of our first date, and of all the subsequent dates after that. I sang of our love despite a word never leaving my lips. I sang of the promise to myself that I would never be late again, that if my burgeoning family ever needed me, I would be there. That I would be faster to jump into oblivion. I would be faster to mount a rescue. I would be faster.
A loud crack resounded throughout this vision space, or soul space, or whatever it was. I was ejected from the vision and opened my eyes for real to see the gardens, the yellowish blooms, and the statue staring at me.
Is it… is that approval on its face?
I’d defeated whatever this heart demon was once, but I could tell I had much more ground to cover. There would be more visions like the last, and I would have to slowly disentangle the knot of guilt, self loathing, and rage that I felt over losing Stephanie, but this was a good start. It was a singular step on the journey—a journey I’d be walking for the rest of my life.