Chapter Text
As she learned every night with a dream or nightmare, they never lasted. Donella’s eyes flickered open when she felt something different- as if Ulla’s being was fading or growing hazier to the touch. She watched as the other seemed more transparent than before and the first stages of sadness clung to her.
Sensing the change as well, she gasped softly when her vision jumped back to that of the Library. Magic was a tricky thing, one moment it wanted to help her and the next it latched onto her with clawed hands. Shaking her head to rid herself of bookshelves and scrolls, she poured all of her attention to the woman in front of her, her eyes wide. “The spell is fading. Donnie I-” She hesitated, glancing away for a second.
“What is it?” Her tone became just a touch more frantic as she leaned down and held her freckled face with both her hands. “Ulla, you can tell me.”
Her bottom lip quivered a bit in fear, maybe guilt as she started. “I’ve been in this place a very long time. I don’t know if- if I’ll remember you for much longer.”
“What do you mean?” She choked out, desperation setting in as she could start to see the outlines of her fingers through the other’s skin.
Grabbing onto Donella’s wrists, she did her best to comfort her though her touch was fading fast, “I don’t know how much longer I can keep the monster at bay or- or keep myself here! It’s hard without a body to hold onto.”
“Ulla, wait! Please wait!” She gasped when her hands went straight through the figure, now just a faint outline and wash of color. “I never got to say goodbye!”
A pause of calm, like the fleeting seconds they had somehow extended as she met her gaze. Sadness, acceptance- it was hard to tell in the break of her tone, “Sometimes we don’t get to say goodbye.”
“No- no please! Please!”
“Don’t come looking for me!” Her voice cracked, chest lurched as she struggled to steal one more moment, “Please don’t- I don’t know what you’ll find!”
~~
Jolting up, the woman yelped when she felt the tingling sensation of the top of her head passing through a bookshelf. She panted and tried to run her fingers over her upper arms only for them to pass right through, leaving a vague trace of touch behind like an aftertaste. Looking around, she must have drifted off in the shelves, which was rare for her. A ghost didn’t technically need to sleep unless they wanted to pass the time, but dreams were often disorienting or disembodying and sometimes she’d find herself inside the walls when she awoke. She lost track of night and day a long time ago, maybe she went weeks without rest but it was hard to know. The Library was constant, unyielding, and eternal.
Pushing herself off the shelf, she floated down towards the ground- hating the way the air rushed through her when she moved. She reached out, trying to feel the way Donella held her to no avail. Was it real? She wasn’t sure if the enchantment worked or simply drained her energy enough to knock her out and the uncertainty scared her. Whimpering, Ulla brought her arms around herself but even that was like nothing, perhaps the faint brush of the breeze. “Donnie- Donnie loves me.” She whispered softly like she was struggling to hang onto that as well.
She couldn’t even hold her breath to reset her thoughts, she hadn’t breathed or had lungs in ages. There was the faint memory of what it was like from her dream or spell, she wasn’t sure which, but somehow the stark absence of it only made her reality more daunting. “Donnie left me,” The mist started to pick up, her veins came alive with the only strong feeling she could sense- magic. It was stifling, suffocating in its potency relative to how light and wispy everything else was. “No! No, stop! Donnie- Donnie loves me! I swear! I swear!”
But the Library never listened, her voice was already becoming distorted as she cried out in pain, and the power was only enticed by the distress that came over her. It amplified it, as it had all those years ago, until it was the only thing she knew. “Donnie left me!” She cried with a shout. Her eyes grew alight with a strong blue glow, her features became mere outlines as she morphed into a ghostly phantom that radiated magic through the contained dimension. And Ulla found herself drowning, unable to figure out where the monster ended and she began.
~~
A gasp turned into a cough as Donella flung the blankets off herself and sat at the edge of the bed before she could even process what was happening. Her chest heaved, she put a hand there to feel the way her ribs expanded. Everything was so cold, she was always so cold. Blowing on her fingers, her entire body shivered and she hugged her arms around her tightly, yearning- aching for what her subconscious had generated. Because as much as she wanted to believe it was real- she wasn’t sure. Ulla’s warning rang loudly in her ears, unsettling her. It was just- it couldn’t have been more than a dream and yet a part of her was inclined to believe it. The same part that insisted the other was still alive.
Her teeth chattered, she reached up to itch at her face- running her fingernail between the two scars on her cheek. Donella held her wrist with her hand, preventing her from digging too hard. But it was never enough to bring her back. She bit the inside of her cheek, the sharpness of the pain helping somewhat as she held her breath. Before she could scold herself or go further, it depended on the night, she heard the faint pitter-patter of bare feet coming towards her room. He never avoided that damn squeaky floorboard.
Quickly, she laid back down and turned over with her back towards the door, pretending to be asleep when she heard it open. Little steps approached the side of her bed, then the mattress bowed a bit as Hugo knelt by her side. “Don!” He whispered sharply.
She turned over slightly and opened one eye at him. Her vision was already adjusted to the darkness so she could make out the frame of his glasses and that wide grin, “Kid, what time is it?”
“It’s snowing!”
He completely ignored her question, instead putting two hands on her shoulder and shaking her a little. For once, despite her sitting up with an annoyed sigh and gently swatting him off of her, she found it strangely comforting- grounding maybe. It was enough to pull her from her sad mopey thoughts and redirect the feeling into mild irritation with a touch of lightness. Oh, he was still a kid despite that recent growth spurt and slightly increased reading proficiency. That was weirdly sentimental to her, especially since the memory of putting him to sleep was now at the forefront of her mind.
“Is this the part where you drag me up at 4 am to stomp around in the cold and wet?”
“Actually it’s 3 am.” He corrected and lightly tugged at her elbow.
She gave in to the request, pulling the covers off and standing up. The wood was cold under her feet. Shooing him towards the door, she found a match and used it to light her candle, picking up the holder and following him to his room where she lit his. “Fine, but you are not going out and getting sick on my watch. Bundle up and then come find me.”
“But Don!” He whined and dragged out the last syllable of the nickname.
She squinted at him slightly, “Are you actually trying to posit an argument right now or are you just giving me a hard time? Because I’ll entertain your point if you have one.”
Hugo opened his mouth, taking in a breath, before pulling his thinking face and deflating a bit. “Yeah, I’m just giving you a hard time. I’ll get dressed.”
~~
She put her gray hair into a ponytail and tugged her coat over her clothing, glancing at the candle on the windowsill she had lit earlier for Ulla. It was considerably shorter now. She stared at the pool of wax and scolded herself internally for being wasteful before going to tighten the laces of her boots. Hugo ran up to her from his room, she reached out and pulled his hat down further.
“Gah! Don! I don’t like it like this, it looks weird!”
“Having frozen ears also looks weird,” She replied back but did compromise and tugged it up more to sit better. “That alright?”
“Mhm,” He nodded and felt the coldness of her thumb brush over his cheek. Shifting a bit on his feet, tucked into his own snow boots, he dug into his coat pocket and presented her with a pair of black gloves. “Here.”
Donella blinked at them, she usually didn’t wear anything on her hands- not even while she was working though she insisted Hugo did. It was partly a sensory thing, partly because she couldn’t find the willpower to take care of herself and prevent discomfort. It was mostly the second she just used the first as an excuse. “I- Kid, what did I say about stealing?”
“Only from certain people?”
“Right. And is the glovemaker one of those people?” She sounded like she was lightly scolding him, crossing her arms over her chest as he shook his head.
“No. That’s why I bought them. With my money, for you!” He looked up at her with the biggest grin on his face, shoving them into her grasp and watching how her face morphed from stern to confused to slightly touched.
“Oh I- You didn’t have to spend your paycheck on me, Kid. It’s very sweet but-”
“You won’t wear them if you buy them yourself,” He replied rather matter-of-fact, “But you will if I do because you don’t wanna be rude.”
She wrinkled her nose at him for being right, scoffing softly as she put them on. Maybe if it were anyone else, anyone else being Cryus, she would have muttered something about being able to take care of herself and that they were completely unnecessary. But Hugo was so well-meaning and- and she’d never admit this but, a part of her had a hard time saying no to the kid. Scrunching her fingers a bit to get used to the sensation, she grinned softly to herself at the warmth she was already beginning to feel.
“Thank you, Hugo.” She gave him a nod of approval before looking him over and heading towards the door. Opening it, Donella watched fondly from behind the boy as he shouted with glee and barreled into the snow outside, rolling around in it for whatever reason as it fell from the sky and accumulated on the pavement- illuminated by the streetlights.
Her green eyes watched as the wind carried a couple of snowflakes into the lab. She followed the trail off to the side where the candle she had lit prior was. To her amazement, the breeze swirled around the stick, causing the flame to dance but not go out. Donella blinked at it, staring up at the sky before a snowball struck her chest and pulled her back into the moment.
“What in the name of Dema-”
Hugo’s laughter filled the air, “Come on, Don! Don’t you just wanna get me back?”
“Don’t get snow in the lab!” She scolded but it was hard to sound serious when her voice bounced from a chuckle. Patting her pocket to make sure she had her key, despite it always being in that jacket, she closed the door tightly and started down the steps towards him. “Now Hugo, there’s another thing I’ve neglected to teach you.”
He paused a bit as her tone grew serious, straightening as he watched her slowly remove the gloves and tuck them into her pocket. Rejection started to bubble up in his chest.
“Bare hands are essential to crafting the perfect snowball,” With that she quickly dropped to the ground, forming a projectile and chucking it at him. The boy instantly brightened as it exploded against his shoulder, running off and taking off his own gloves as well. He made sure to put them in his pocket before turning around and throwing another at her. She took off in pursuit, her motions sure and practiced as she remembered days like this spent with Ulla in her youth. For the first time in years, she found herself grinning at the memories, grateful to have lived them.
~~
“Thanks for doing this, Don,” Hugo stopped at the portal with his suitcases, handing them off to Varian who walked into the teal glow to go finish loading up the wagon. He turned to his mother as she approached, the light reflecting off the high points of her face, the tip and bridge of her nose, the center of her forehead and chin, and the scars that didn’t seem to bother her as much as the years passed.
Her hair was more faded, growing paler and she had more white streaks in there- though she did admittedly go grey early on. Still, her eyes were bright and her posture stiff as a board, she walked towards him with her hands clasped behind her back and if he squinted he was a kid again watching her at meetings or negotiating with clients. She was the smartest person in the world to him back then, she still was to him now.
“Don’t worry about it, Kid. I could use a few days of quiet,” Glancing around, the first time she entered the Library again- after Ulla was truly gone and the boys had come in and fixed things up- she felt like the world was collapsing around her. There was this bittersweet twinge where she was so proud of her boy but also so sad because that meant her own dreams were never going to be. Now, it was nice to walk the halls, maybe organize a few shelves here or there- do some filing and paperwork that neither of the kids were particularly interested in. Being there reminded her of the love of her life, and over the years she found herself happy to have her rather than sad to have lost her. She guessed that meant she was finally getting old, when her memories became more important than her aspirations.
He looked like he was about to say something before Donella reached out and grabbed at his face, using her thumb to not so gently rub at the corner of his mouth. “Would it kill you to wash up after lunch?”
Hugo laughed and muttered something about how she reminded him of Varian- the two of them did get along quite well after they got over their more complicated history. At the very least, they loved to pick on him together.
“What would I do without you, Don?” He chided back, watching how her eyes lit up a tiny bit more in recognition. It was subtle but he had learned how to read her quite well as he grew up.
Her heart ached then warmed at the memory, the loving, teasing, slightly irritating on purpose tone Ulla would put on. In a way, he reminded her of the other and she saw little touches of her in his jokes or his cadence, in the breeze and sunset and sound of wind chimes. She scoffed in the way she would all that time ago and gave him a playful shove, “Probably walk onto that expo stage with chocolate on your face.” She tutted her tongue, “If you ask me, Varian is too lenient with you sometimes.”
“Awe you don’t really mean that, Don,” He walked closer and held out his arms, pulling her into a bear hug where he swayed a bit from side to side and pinned her elbows down, “You love me.”
“For Demanitus’ sake,” She groaned but couldn’t keep up the annoyed front for long, pushing him off of her after she squirmed free. Donella took a second to fix her shirt and hair before putting her own arms to the side, “Yes yes I do love you, Kid. Now can I have a proper hug before you go?”
Hugo obliged eagerly, obviously, holding her close and resting his chin on her right shoulder. He realized years ago that he wasn’t afraid of accidentally brushing her scars anymore. Sinking into his mother’s embrace a bit, he couldn’t help but grin to himself. She always did hold herself with that poised posture, but things were slightly different- her shoulders lost their tension, her lips didn’t always tug down at the corners. She hadn’t changed a bit and yet she was entirely different, happier. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Hey, I may be old but I can still track time.”
That got a laugh from him, “Still as sharp as ever, Mom.”
And with that he pulled away, walked through the portal, and disappeared into the teal glow. She stood there for a few moments before turning on her heel and walking back into the Library. Magic lightly coursed through her veins and to her fingertips as she moved books around and reorganized shelves because for Demanitus’ sake Hugo they did not file the non-fictional records by reverse alphabetical order like animals.
It was easier to control now, the power that is- figured it had something to do with the calming of her own turbulent emotions, giving the more predatory forces in the Library less to feed off of. They were able to piece that explanation together with Donella’s own tellings of what the experience was like, as well as Ulla’s written accounts that they’d find scattered through the dimension. Or maybe it was all placebo, after all, magic was such a flimsy science- if you even wanted to call it that. She could hear Ulla’s protests in her ears and found herself chuckling at them as she walked towards the pile of books they had yet to sort.
Sitting down in the chair, she would sometimes be standing for hours just filing texts until Varian pointed that out and brought her one. Donella picked up a cover, cleaned off the dust, and lifted her hand up, placing it in the appropriate magical current where it stayed suspended for a few moments in midair before being swept away to the proper section in the Library. She continued rather efficiently, working at a constant pace before stopping as a title stuck out to her. She did have a little stack next to her seat where she kept the more interesting texts for her own readings, but this one stuck out.
On the front, printed in a dead language nearly lost to time, was a title that roughly translated into something about dreams and other subconscious spells. She squinted at it, remembering that peculiar dream from all that time ago. Donella hadn’t thought to bring it up last she saw Ulla and- well it always perplexed her.
Flipping through the pages, she stopped when she found an entry in the margins, her partner’s preferred note-taking method, of a consciousness projection spell. She tried her best to not get her hopes up, could be a coincidence. The scribbles of ink were mostly reminders and quips, how to cast, where to place her fingers- a certain spot that always caused her slip-ups. She smiled to herself as she read through, it was always a pleasure to find more of her writings as they sought to organize the Library.
A line stuck out to her, Find Donnie again. Make sure she’s okay.
Her eyes watered a bit without her realizing. Donella reached up and quickly wiped away the tear, making sure to rid her touch of the moisture before turning back to the book. She ran her fingertips over the words, the voice that was so familiar. All the memories rushed back, the two of them fighting for page space as they wrote, how their handwritings looped together in a symphony of paper and pens. Sometimes when they found Ulla’s notes in the Library there would be mention of her, information that Donella would find interesting, statements that she’d roll her eyes at, reminders to tell her something as if she was just away on a business trip- as if they always had tomorrow.
She closed the book and held it tightly to her chest, sniffing quietly as she pressed the cover against her and tried to feel Ulla’s body and her arms around her. It was strangely comforting to know that her friend did still love her during her time here, because what was love if not remembrance? And what was grief but love that couldn’t be given? All that time ago she realized she had to learn to live with that feeling, and- looking around at how far she had come- she realized she did. She just hoped that her wish for her friend had been fulfilled too, that she found some peace.
A breeze blew by, which did happen in the Library from time to time, and swirled around her. It rustled some pages but clung tight to her as if embracing her and brushing along her cheek. Donella lifted her chin as she felt the force swirling upwards and she swore she heard the softest twinkling of wind chimes.