angelthefandomobsessed - Tumblr blog

angelthefandomobsessed · 4 days ago

Text

Through a Gaze So Very Fractured

Diasomnia Fic - A young Silver begins to question his place in the world. Sebek makes things worse, but it's not his fault - he's eight here, he won't get character development for almost a decade. (Lilia's here to win dad of the year, luckily).

༺═────────────═༻

Silver had always hated mirrors. His father had only one mirror, with a cracked surface and a rickety old frame that lurked behind stacks of books. So, while Silver found that he despised the thing, he managed to go through his early years without paying it much mind.

Lilia had never paid it any heed either. It had once been useful for relaying messages, but a mark of a well-lived fae was their desire to live unbothered. Chucking his axe at the centre of the glass had taken better care of his bothersome ex-colleagues than any spell could have. Disposing of it had never crossed Lilia’s mind, so he left it in the corner, where it became a passive observer to their peaceful lives.

Every so often, when the boy was sneezing just a tad too much, he would hand Silver a dustcloth and ask him to clean everything he could reach. Cleaning without magic built character, so he said.

When Silver agreed and went to the mirror, Lilia always failed to notice the way his son fixed his eyes on the wall behind the object as he cleaned it.

It wasn’t until Silver was nine that he became cognizant of his aversion to not just mirrors, but to most reflective surfaces.

It began to bother him in a way that he couldn’t seem to shake off, not even when he was out exploring the woodlands surrounding Lilia’s cottage. While he and Sebek sat, feet dangling in the nearby creek, wooden swords cast aside by the treeline, Silver lowered his voice and asked, “Do all children look like their parents?”

Sebek stared at Silver for a moment, his green eyes narrowed. Being a naturally quiet child, Silver hadn’t minded the silence. He took the time to listen to the birdsong; it was nearing dinner time, and the birds that nested by his bedroom window were chirping to each other, warning of the impending darkness. A warning meant for him too, he understood, in a way that nobody else seemed to.

“Of course children look like their parents. That’s obvious,” Sebek finally replied, voice loud and clear, as though he was the sole authority on the matter.

Silver leaned forward and looked into the creek. His reflection was a slippery thing. Round ears occasionally stretching out, reaching for wherever it was that the water was trying to go.

“I don’t think I look much like father.”

Sebek made a sound - something between a chuckle or a scoff - and shook his head. “You’re right, you look nothing like Sir Vanrouge. How could you? You’re only a human. You have no right to resemble a fae as great as him!”

At that, Silver frowned and turned over Sebek’s words. He was often told not to listen to everything Sebek said - that he was taking after his grandfather in the worst possible ways.

But Silver was a human. That much was true.

“Does that mean that I look like my…” Silver struggled to recall the word. It was one he rarely heard spoken aloud. “My mother?”

Sebek shrugged. “How should I know? You were found in the woods. That’s what my grandfather said. He also said that lesser beasts abandon weak children to the wild and that a noble fae shouldn’t tarnish themselves to pick up after them.”

“He said all that to you?” Silver asked, puzzled by the strange, buzzing feeling unfurling in his stomach.

The other boy seemed to bristle and flush at that. “W-Well, not to me, but I heard him talking to someone about it.” He paused before adding, “It was another adult! From the palace!”

“I see…” Silver said.

While Sebek regaled the tale of the powerful, striking, unmistakably fae guard that had conversed with his grandfather, Silver listened to the birds once more.

Your father and his liege are almost done talking, a bird called down from its branch. Run along now. To higher ground with you.

“-and he must have been a powerful mage too, because-”

“We should go now,” Silver told him, standing up.

“Oi, Silver! I wasn’t done speaking to you!” Sebek scrambled to his feet, nearly falling flat on his face. “Get back here!”

The creek was surrounded by a high lip, taller than both of the boys. Silver didn’t have to think about his movements, though. He climbed the short, jagged rocks with the expertise of a mountain goat. Sebek was far less graceful as he followed Silver, but the two had retrieved their practice swords and were on their way back in no time flat.

“What’s the big rush?” Sebek grumbled.

“Lord Malleus and father are finished talking. They will worry if we aren’t back before dusk,” he replied in his typical, straightforward way of speaking.

The mention of the fae prince, predictably, perked Sebek up. “Why didn’t you just say so? I would have sprinted back if I knew Lord Malleus was waiting! Hurry up, human!”

While Sebek began to run back to the cottage, Silver slowed to a stop. It was that word again. The thing that he was, so unlike everyone else in his life. Sebek’s father was human, but he was fully grown and smart. He had his uses.

But the way Sebek had said it - human - was different from every other time he had heard it. Silver didn’t much like it. He could feel his dislike for the word growing in his stomach, feeding those strange feelings from earlier.

Human.

He didn’t want to be that.

A gentle green light floated past Silver’s peripheral vision. He blinked and looked forward, noticing a trail of green lights weaving leisurely through the trees. Silver followed them without question.

When he arrived at the cottage, an impossibly tall, ethereal figure awaited him. “Silver,” Malleus greeted. “It seems that Sebek is the winner of this race. An unexpected turn of events, I must confess.”

“We weren’t racing,” Silver protested without thinking. “He ran off when I mentioned you were finished speaking with father.”

“Oh?” Malleus smiled in a flash of sharp teeth. “And how did you know that our business was done?”

“The birds told me,” Silver reported before pressing forward. Behind him, Malleus chuckled and caught up to him in a single stride.

“I see,” was all he said.

“Did Sebek run past you?” Silver asked.

“No. I saw him charging out of the trees without you, so I decided to ensure your safe return.”

“I would have made it back by myself,” Silver told him. “Sebek will be disappointed that you walked me back and not him.”

Silver looked up at Malleus and caught him with that face. The one he wore when he didn’t quite understand something - when he was worried about it. Whenever Silver woke up after a sudden bout of exhaustion, both Lilia and Malleus would look at him like that. Silver wasn’t sure how he should feel about it.

“He would be even more disappointed if something had happened to you,” Malleus pointed out.

“Would he be?” Silver wondered aloud.

He regretted his loose tongue when Malleus stopped dead in his tracks.

“Of course he would,” the fae prince said slowly. “What has he said to make you question that?”

Silver felt another twist in his stomach.

“Nothing. I… didn’t mean what I said. Let’s go home,” he said before remembering himself. “Please, Lord Malleus.”

The fae prince regarded him for one painful, seemingly everlasting moment before giving a short nod. “Very well.”

Silver wasn’t sure how he felt about their silent walk back to the cottage. He was glad that the conversation was over. But the silence felt heavier than the pile of firewood his father would hand to him every morning was. He had done something wrong - he just knew it.

So, when they returned and Sebek made a fuss about how strong he was, Silver kept his head down and stood back. He wondered if this is how the forest creatures, always lingering at least an arm’s length away from regular people, saw the world. If it was, how could they stomach it? Silver couldn’t.

Silver gasped when he felt a weight on his shoulder. He turned on his heel and saw his father.

“You are not looking very well,” Lilia observed, features woven with concern. He pressed a cold hand to Silver’s forehead, frown deepening. “You don’t feel feverish… Is your stomac hurting? Did you eat anything raw off the forest floor?”

“N-No father.” Lilia’s brows raised ever so slightly at the stutter. It was rare for Silver to speak without conviction - he was such a serious child.

“I should return to the castle,” Malleus announced. Not even the crown prince himself could break Lilia’s concentration from his son. “Sebek. I will take you home promptly… We would not want to trouble Lilia for dinner, after all.”

At the mention of a meal prepared by Lilia, Sebek’s face managed to pale beyond his typical fair complexion.

“Of course, Lord Malleus! But you have no need to escort me home! I can make the journey by myself.”

The sight of the small, round eared Sebek declaring himself fit to wander through the forest and back to the heart of Briar Valley made Lilia chuckle. “Just accept the privilege,” Lilia urged with a wry smirk. “It is not every day that Malleus makes an offer so generous.”

“Lilia,” warned Malleus, face shifting from serene to something a little more dangerous.

“Yes, yes, I know.” Silver did not know what it was that Lilia knew, but he was discovering that he didn’t know much, so this did not surprise him. “Away with you now. Go on, before your grandmother starts a wildfire with that lightning of hers.”

“Farewell, Lilia.” Malleus’ bright, gem-like eyes glittered toward Silver. “Silver,” he said with a nod. “I hope that you feel well again soon.”

Silver managed a weak smile and bid them, “Safe travels.”

Once they had vanished in a flash of green, Lilia let out a huff. He then advanced faster than Silver could react, hoisting the young boy over his shoulder.

The child let out a cross between a ‘Huh?’, and an indignant, ‘Hey!”

“I am quite positive that there is something wrong with you, and I will find out what it is, young man,” Lilia declared.

“I’m fine!”

“Tell it to your face and to your posture. And to Malleus, for that matter. I could tell he was worried about you the second the two of you walked through the door.” Lilia paused to gently shift and deposit Silver onto his bed. “Please, Silver, tell me what the matter is. I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

Silver bit down on his lip and watched Lilia’s stern, unmoving face. All he could say was, “I’m sorry, father.”

“What for?” pressed Lilia.

“For being weak and human.”

When he said ‘human’, he said it the same way that Sebek had. Like it was something dirty. Something that should never be uttered.

That broke Lilia. Silver saw the immediate shift; the shock that seemed to physically strike Lilia, the way his stance opened and shrank back, the falling of his features. The sight of his father, who always stood strong and cheerful, taken aback by something Silver had said, broke Silver in turn. Silver could not see the ways that it changed himself, though - all he knew was that he was crying.

And that Lilia was holding him before he could let out his first full sob.

“You are not weak,” Lilia insisted. His sonorous voice was so much louder when it was right next to Silver’s head. It was impossible not to hear - impossible not to feel. “You are a human, but that is no fault. That is simply what is.”

Silver couldn’t respond. All he could do was whimper pathetically while he tried to hide his face in the front of his father’s shirt.

“Whatever it was that Sebek said to you - and I have no doubt it was him that started this - it is not the whole truth. Some people have a way of seeing the world that is fractured. A broken perception, so sharp that it can hurt people. I have seen it all across Twisted Wonderland.”

“It wasn’t Sebek’s fault,” Silver weakly insisted. He tried to sniffle discreetly, but only succeeded in drawing the embarrassing sound out further. “I-I know I don’t look like you. I’ve seen it in the sitting room mirror.”

Lilia was quiet for a moment. And for that moment, Silver wondered if he was right all along, and that he was an unworthy son to Lilia. “I suppose that this is my fault, then. I should have spoken to you before this. It’s just…” The fae sighed. “I did not want you to grow up too fast. But it seems you are as wise as you are kind. Two admirable qualities. Fae-like qualities, once upon a time.”

Silver pulled back and rubbed at his eyes, wincing at the tears that wet his hands. “Gross,” he lamented, the seriousness of his face drawing a laugh from Lilia. Once he had wiped down his hands, he asked, “Once upon a time?”

The bat fae readjusted his legs, gave a toothy smile and clasped his hands on his lap. “They say that qualities such as kindness and wisdom were valued by all at one point. And now they say that those qualities are rare… But I disagree. Some people choose to see the world as a dark place, while some choose to see it as a bright and hopeful place.”

“Which of them is right?”

“Neither. The world is what it is. When people - be they fae, human or beastman - start to fracture their way of seeing the world through hatred or ignorance, they stop being able to see it for what it is. The same goes for those that choose to view it through blind faith.”

“And… what is it? The world, I mean,” Silver asked with the same wide, bright eyes that had changed Lilia’s life.

“Only you can decide. If I told you what to see, then you wouldn’t see what is truly there. You would be seeing my perception of it.”

“I see…”

“Precisely!” Lilia ruffled Silver’s hair, pushing it back so that he could get a good look at his eyes. “I used to look at the world through a gaze so very fractured. But when I first laid eyes on you, a mere babe, I felt my viewpoint fixing itself.”

“So you were…” Silver tried to recall the words from earlier. “Ignorant?”

“You always cut right to the heart of the matter… Yes, I was very ignorant. And hateful, too. Humans have caused a great deal of harm to this land.” When Silver’s face fell, Lilia gave him a playful tap of the forehead. “Try not to look so glum, child. When I looked at you, so full of innocence, I realised that you were not responsible for all that had happened before you even graced this soil. And that if I continued to do ignorant, hateful things because of what those before you did, children like you would grow up to be as ignorant and hateful as I was.”

“So you… changed?” Silver asked.

“I did. I took you in not only to teach you the ways of the world, but so that you could teach me too.”

The way that Lilia looked at Silver bordered on reverant, like Silver was a miracle of some sort. It was… reassuring, the boy found.

He gave his father a small, bashful smile. “Am I a good teacher?”

“The best,” Lilia said with a grin. “You, Sebek and Malleus keep me young, you know. I learn so much from all of you.”

“That’s good, father. I feel a lot better now. But I feel so…”

Before he could give his warning, Silver’s eyes grew heavy and he slumped forward. Lilia caught him and laid him down properly. Children really were a whirlwind - even quiet, oddly well-mannered ones like his Silver. Before he left him for the night, he sat at the edge of the bed and watched him. His cheeks were tear-streaked and red, and his nose needed a good wiping, but he seemed at peace now.

Lilia pressed a kiss to Silver’s forehead and fetched a handkerchief to wipe his face with. Though Silver was now dead to the world, Lilia still filled the room with the words, “I love you,” before he left him to sleep.

First things first; that wretched mirror had to go, so it seemed he had a bonfire to build. Sebek would need to be reprimanded for adopting all of Baur’s views, but that would wait until the morrow. For now, Lilia would have some pine needle tea, as well as a flip through that parenting book that Sebek’s father had given him. Though, he had a feeling that there were some problems that no amount of books could prepare him for…

As that feeling passed through him, he realised that the stew he had been preparing was thoroughly burnt. Oh well… At least he knew it was cooked properly! He would treat Silver to it when he woke up.

༺═────────────═༻

I started writing this in January and it's now August. Whoops.

#reblog

43 notes · View notes

angelthefandomobsessed · 6 days ago

Text

The Spirit Loft - Short Story

(Check out my blog https://seekingdandelions.weebly.com/home/the-spirit-loft-short-story to see the story in its natural habitat! I hope you enjoy! (Reblogs are appreciated, jk, unless???))

Caelum lit the last candle in the circle and sat back, crossing his legs. The smell of salt drifted through the loft, making the boy’s nose crinkle. He shook his head, as though that might banish the scent. When that didn’t work, he rubbed at his nose, decided to ignore it, and picked up the stack of paper by his knee. His notes had seen better days. Caelum had roughly torn the pages from his school notebook, blanketed them in scribbles and stamped it with a few coffee stains for good measure. However, the boy seemed undeterred by their condition, as he flipped through the disorganised pages.

Halfway down the first page, blue ink switched to black, and then briefly to red. As he read, Caelum could feel the whispers growing in ferocity, desperate to pull him away from the dusty loft. Caelum pushed them aside, raising his voice.

‘“Circle of salt, thirteen candles, runes of my choosing, clear intentions”… Everything seems in order, wouldn’t you guys agree?’ he called into the empty room.

Caelum wasn’t sure who he was addressing. The constant murmuring never stopped, but it was rarely clear. It was like being in a city centre on Christmas Eve, trying to hone in on a dozen different conversations.

A single voice, scratchy and teetering on the edge of coherence, rose above the static in Caelum’s ears. ‘Stop,’ it hissed.

Pressing his lips together, the boy folded up his notes and set them on the floor, ignoring the ghost’s plea. His shadow swayed across the slanted wall, projected by the candlelight. Caelum’s mum would be home soon. He wasn’t sure how she would react to his setup. He could imagine that her signature eye twitch would be involved, but it was a complete mystery from there.

Probably best to get on with it.

After clearing his throat, he recited; ‘With this offering of fire and salt, I invite you to my land, providing you abide by my command.’ The individual flames perked up, as though they were listening intently. Caelum noticed, allowing a hint of confidence to seep into his voice. ‘Do not leave this circle of binding salt. Provide me with the knowledge and protection I seek, and in return, I will provide you with compensation. With my intentions set, I summon you, demon.’

The spirits fell silent. Caelum’s grey eyes drifted through the loft. Empty. No demon. He frowned, reaching for his notes.

Has something gone wrong? Maybe he should have written the incantation himself. The online one had felt a little juvenile...

Without warning, thirteen candles flared with white-hot intensity. Rogue flames consumed the wicks with a crackle, leaving behind thirteen piles of molten red wax. Just as suddenly as they had swelled, the fire faltered and flatlined. Caelum bolted up, disoriented by the sudden eclipse. His notes plummeted to the floor.

Caelum took a shaky step back, eyes twitching through the loft. The boy was hardly an expert in the paranormal, but the goosebumps grabbing at his flesh weren’t a good sign. The sudden presence he could feel wasn’t filling him with hope either. It forced him further back, continuing to overwhelm him once his back was pressed to the slanted wall.

Caelum heard a deep, unravelling sigh, followed by a bang. ‘Ow! Curse these mortals and their low ceilings…’ Something had definitely gone wrong.

The spirits remained silent. Something deep within his gut twisted, sending bile to burn his throat. ‘S-Show yourself!’ he demanded weakly.

A bright blue light sparked in front of him. Caelum shrank back against it, shielding his eyes with a quivering hand. He could feel the floorboards dip as the demon moved closer.

Caelum prised his eyes open, catching a glimpse of the figure. The light had sparked from the demon’s palm, illuminating its features. However, Caelum didn’t know where to look. Should he focus on the skeletal mask or the brash raven wings? Would it be rude to stare at the demon’s long eagle-like legs and talons? The human head and torso were rather odd, but a welcome sight nonetheless. His hair was dark, similar to Caelum’s, but his eyes were hidden. He was tall too, towering over Caelum with ease.

More importantly, he had breezed past his summoning circle.

‘So…’ Caelum muttered. He could feel the flesh around his neck tingling, on edge. ‘I take it the summoning circle was a bust?’

‘Mhm,’ the demon responded. ‘Let me guess: you bought the salt from a supermarket? Cheaped out on the off-brand stuff?’

Caelum nodded a little too quickly, eyes trained on the floor. If he focused on it long enough, maybe he would fall through it. ‘The candles were rather pricey, y’see, and one pound seemed too expensive for salt. And there was always the chance that this wouldn’t work, and I don’t add salt to my meals, so I would have half a tub of salt leftover, and-’

‘Stop talking,’ the demon cut in, reaching behind the mask to rub his temples. His voice seemed familiar to Caelum. Was it similar to a celebrity’s voice? Maybe it the demon moonlighted as a celebrity. Or daylighted, perhaps. ‘Listen, kid, I don’t have all day. Some wise guy wrote an article about demon summoning, it got a lot of traction, now we’re working overtime. It’s a real mess. So, if you’ll excuse me…’

The light dimmed in the demon’s palm. His vast wings followed behind him as he turned around. Caelum couldn’t help but stare. Had things gone according to plan? No, the plan was in shambles, there was a mask-wearing bird demon in his loft.

He snapped back to the moment, remembering what he had set out to do. ‘Hey, wait, I didn’t mean to ramble about salt! I had a reason for summoning you. A legitimate reason, I mean.’

The demon turned back to face him, the light highlighting the hollows in his skull mask. ‘Oh?’

‘I had a dream a few weeks ago. In that dream, I saw myself laying out this summoning circle. The visuals were foggy, but… I remember what I felt. I felt like this was my only option. That this,’ he gestured around the loft, ‘was my last chance.’

‘That’s nice. I dreamt I was a whale one time. You don’t see me diving in the ocean! Not with a body like this, anyways. Quit while you’re ahead, kid.’ Caelum was taken aback by how… casual the demon was acting. It was like watching a rottweiler do a tap-dancing routine.

Still, Caelum was determined to argue his case, even if it ended in an infernal lecture. ‘For as long as I can remember, I’ve been able to hear… strange things. Screaming, laughing, whispering…’ Distantly, a humming was starting up again. The silence had been nice while it lasted.

Caelum continued, ‘At first, I thought I was going mad. But then I realised it was something else.’ He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I know it’s ghosts. Figured that much, at least.’

‘Alright, you have some weird psychic stuff going on. And you decided you needed a demon because..?’

Desperation took over for a split second, blooming into an outburst. ‘Because I want you to get rid of it! Demons make pacts, right? Fix me. Please.’

The demon groaned. ‘Do I look like a priest to you? Making pacts with demons is dangerous. Trust me. It’ll cost you.’

‘Years off my life, right?’ The demon nodded in response and scratched at his wing. One of his feathers fell, landing in one of the wax puddles. They would be annoying to clean, but that was a problem for later. ‘That doesn’t bother me. I’m going to live ‘til I’m eighty-two. I have years to spare.’

The demon stopped mid-scratch. ‘What did you just say?’

‘That I’ll live until I’m eighty-two. I’ll die from a heart attack, I think. Though, I’m not too sure about that. Medical crises are kind of… murky,’ Caelum responded indifferently. ‘I can usually get a sense for that sort of thing. My uncle died a few years ago. I told him not to get on that plane, but he didn’t listen.’

A handful of salt leapt forward as the demon rushed back to Caelum. A hand closed around his wrist. Caelum went rigid.

The demon’s voice lost all humour, growing harsh; ‘Seeing death… That’s a demon’s ability, boy.’ His grip tightened, drawing a wince from Caelum. ‘What’s your name?’

‘It’s Caelum.’

‘Caelum Weaver?’

Caelum nodded.

The demon let go of his arm, took a step back, and wheezed a laugh. Caelum let out a shaky sigh, cradling his wrist. The boy watched with wide eyes as the skull mask was torn from the demon’s face. The blue light hovered to the side of the room, observing the situation.

The discarded skull mask clattered against the floor. Caelum saw the demon’s features and tried not to choke. ‘Dad?!’

His father, whose face looked exactly the same as it had ten years prior, stretched into an awkward smile. ‘The, uh… the line at the cigarette counter was really long. You’ve certainly grown up, Caelum.’

Caelum blinked. Before he could think up a response, the loft shook violently as the front door opened. His father shot him a quizzical glance.

‘I’m home!’ Caelum’s mother yelled, slamming the door behind her. The loft shuddered once more. Even under blue light, Caelum could see the colour drain from the demon’s face. Caelum mumbled a curse as the onlooking spirits broke into a chorus of tittering laughter.

#short story

1 note · View note