Chapter Text
College campuses exuded their own specific form of chaotic energy.
Chise had never really noticed it before, not when she had so many other, more pressing matters to worry about. Now finally free of the evil spirits that had plagued her years, she was able to take in the world around her.
Students lingered in corners, their gaze fixed on the distant clouds. Some students were hunched over textbooks, their brows knit together in deep concentration. Others lamented loudly to their friends as they made their way from one building to another. Yet despite their distinct differences in moods, everyone seemed fixated on one thing; their future.
Whether they were trying to avoid it or race towards it, students here were distinctly aware of both time, and the passing of it. For once in their life, they had both too much of it and not enough at the same time, and it was a truly terrifying combination.
Possibilities whispered to them in the wind, and each individual seemed acutely aware that whatever the future held for them, was only about a year or two away from fruition.
It was odd, she thought as her boots clacked against the cement pavement, she’d always wanted to be a student, or a real one at least.
Her childhood had been a rushed affair, she was already taking care of herself by the age of 16. There had been no time for books, for the time one had to truly dedicate to their studies to really learn.
In a way, she felt envious of them.
Innocence still clung to some of them, like dew to a petal in the morning sun. It was pure, but destined not to last, which Chise knew all too well.
She moved like a snake in the gardens, all too happy to stay out of sight like a misfit cast out.
At last she reached her destination.
Taking a deep breath in, she clutched her bag tight to her chest, willing herself to move forward.
Walking through the halls felt like a distant memory. The path to the room was as familiar as breathing and she felt herself move through the hall without really thinking about it. The only real proof that any time had indeed passed since she had last set foot in the building were the paintings on the wall.
They passed her, rushes of color that drew her eye, as if they were alive and whispering to her to take a longer look. Drawn to the canvases, she glanced at them as she passed by, longing for a longer look.
At last her body stopped of its own accord.
The room was filled with the afternoon sunlight, beautifully silhouetting the easels in the dark of the room.
Chise felt both a mixture of joy and unease sweep through her as she stared at the now empty room.
“Hello, Elias? Are you there” she called out, her voice filled with an unspoken hope.
“Ah no, sorry. I’m Alice,” said a woman coming into view.
Standing beneath the door frame, appeared a young woman with striking European features. She seemed familiar, but Chise was unable to place exactly where she had seen her.
“Ah, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
Alice let out an easy laugh, “Sometimes I wish I were someone else, honestly.”
Chise smiled, “I’m sure we all do.”
The young woman tilted her head, as she leaned against the door frame.
“I think we’ve met before, but I don’t remember you speaking English.”
“Yes, I used to take courses here sometime ago,” Chise said, trying to keep her answer vague.
It wasn’t that she was trying to hide something, she wasn’t really. At the same point, she didn’t want to rehash that particular wound, not when she thought it’d healed.
“Ah, right. I remember your painting, really surreal that one,” Alice said.
Chise felt a faint blush tint her cheeks, and she looked away.
“I really liked it, you know, it was different, unusual. I feel like recently I’ve been seeing the same 5 paintings over and over again. They never really say anything, but yours did.”
Chise remembered her now.
She couldn’t remember her name, only that it had something to do with a famous piece of English literature. They had taken a course together, their easels had been next to each other for the entirety of the course. Despite the language barrier, they had managed to converse a bit, as the woman’s Japanese had been awkward, but Chise hadn’t minded. Some of her classmates were a bit cooler, wary of the foreigner and her unusual, guarded, behavior.
“Thank you....” she trailed off, embarrassed she’d already forgotten the young woman’s name.
“Alice.”
“Alice,” Chise said with a small smile.
“What are you doing here anyways? No one’s ever here during lunch,” Alice said.
“Oh uh, I wanted to see if my old supplies was still here,” she said.
“I’m sure it is. Are you coming back then?”
“I’m thinking about it,” Chise said, vaguely.
The truth was, as much she loved art, she couldn’t afford it.
Between the classes, the supplies, and the time commitment, it simply wasn’t feasible.
It was painful to think about, like a dull ache that thudded beneath her chest.
For years art had been her sole line of communication to the outside world. But like a limb, it had been severed from her, and she had never really felt the same after. Shame had clouded her view of the world, causing her to retreat inside herself as a defense mechanism.
No one could know how bad things truly were.
Then Elias had come along, and now she at last felt brave enough to venture back out into the world.
“You should, you’re quite talented you know. I know it must be hard, what with the ‘offputting’ nature of your art and all. But that’s how art is supposed to be, it’s not just for viewing, it’s supposed to make you feel something. Your art made people feel something, even if it wasn’t a ‘good’ feeling. Don’t let other people stop you is all, I guess. Sorry I got a little preachy and stuff there, I really loved your work. I was sad to see you go.”
It was clear now that Alice thought she had left due to her peers' reaction to her work, not because she had stopped being able to afford classes.
Well, Chise thought to herself silently, that was...something.
If anything, she supposed it made explaining her absence easier and less embarrassing. Being unable to afford classes anymore, and the shame associated with her poverty, is exactly what had kept her away.
Chise saw the out and took it.
“Thank you, sometimes it is hard, being different,” she said.
She felt a bit bad at first for going with Alice’s misconception, but what she was saying wasn’t technically a lie so she gave herself a pass on this one.
“I get it, no really I do. I guess that’s why I liked your work so much,” Alice said.
The statement burst out of her, catching them both slightly off guard.
Awkward silence fell between them, neither really sure what to say about Alice’s sudden confession. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Alice looked away in embarrassment.
“Sometimes we just long to feel something, even if it’s ‘bad’. I think...I think the worst thing an artist could make you do is feel apathetic, make you just smile and nod.”
Alice’s declaration broke the silence, and Chise felt understood, heard, even if only for a moment.
Standing there, with the sunlight illuminating the half finished canvases, she felt like she had been drowning this entire time, and now, she had at last come up for air. Art had been her way of reaching out, of expressing herself in a way that others might understand when words felt short.
Now, someone was reaching back out to her.
“I’m glad my art could make you feel. I always felt…” Chise began, trailing off.
Despite her hours of English practice a day, she couldn’t quite express what she was feeling and she struggled trying to translate her thoughts.
“Like you were screaming into the void?”
Chise laughed, her smile reaching her eyes.
“Yes, something like that.”
“It happens to all of us, you know. At one point we all have to ask ourselves the big questions, about why we started, why we continued. But I’m glad you came back. I was never really into that ‘death of the artist/author.”
Chise nodded, looking around the room as she felt herself moved with a torrent of inspiration.
“I think your stuff’s still over here,” Alice said, pointing to a cabinet above a sink.
Sure enough she was right, and she found a number of old paintings and worn out brushes.And there, there amidst it all, was the painting that started everything.
Pilum Muralis' portrait.
She picked it up gently, allowing herself to look at it not as the artist, but as the viewer.
The roses were beautiful, bringing out the red in his eyes. His suit was a bit different, now that she’d seen it up close. In the portrait he looked too formal, whereas in real life he seemed more casual, more approachable.
Distantly she wondered when he’d shed his outer robe and opened up to her.
“I’ve always really liked that one. Always wondered if he were real what he would say,” Alice joked.
Chise stared at the portrait, tracing his features with her eyes like a soft caress.
“Anata ga koishī.”
The words tumbled out, before she could stop them, and her only saving grace was that they weren’t in English.
“Oh, what does that mean?”
“It’s...hard to translate,” she lied.
I miss you, echoed in her mind.
___
Elias hovered over the small pool of water, gazing at his own reflection in the still water.
He had, of course, seen his reflection countless times; he knew exactly how he looked to others. Instead of delicate human features, his were sharp, jagged enough to cut glass. The bones of his skull were laid bare, a chemical white that stood in stark contrast to the darkness he was born of.
Maybe at some point he had been naive, certainly Lindel had done well to make him wiser to the world around him. Rationally, Elias knew he was not the picture of what humans considered ‘attractive’.
No, when he had read their stories he had never seen himself in the role of the ‘prince’, for there was no denying he had always looked more like the monster.
Where he should have flowing locks of hair, he instead had rough and spiraling horns. Where he should have a pearly grin, he had one only of bone white teeth and canines that protruded like a predator.
Lindel had told him that humans used stories as a way to express themselves, their views, their hopes, and their dreams. Surely then, no one desired to be with a monster such as himself.
He felt foolish, angry even, for considering for even a moment that he could have been the prince in her story.
Elias had accepted his role as the monster long ago, learned to live with it even.
He had been aloof, detached, for it was easier that way. It was different being a spectator than being an active participant in society. Looking from afar he had nothing to lose, no skin in the game.
However, circumstances had changed.
There was something stirring within him that desired to take part, to reach out and grab hold of her world.
Still, unpleasant memories lingered, leaving him clouded in a potent mixture of uncertainty and anxiety.
Their cruel words echoed in his mind as he stared at his image down below. Beneath his chest something sharp and jagged wrapped around his heart, as those words took on a new, harsher meaning.
There was never a single doubt that if he was looking at humans through their own eyes, their own stories, that Chise would be the princess. Fair beyond mortal comprehension and trapped in a world that didn’t understand her, he thought it quite easy to see the parallels between the two.
He looked at his reflection in the scrying pond, trying to clear his thoughts.
“Fairytales are for children, the world beyond their pages is far more complicated than their simplistic truths,” he said aloud, reminding himself.
Taking a long, steadying breath, he emptied his mind before lowering his head to the scrying pool below.
___________
There was a terrible irony about it, Chise thought to herself looking up at the ceiling.
She had been visiting the college campus every few days to meet up with Alice for English lessons. As inspiring as it was to be surrounded by such a vibrant energy, the second she stepped through the door she deflated and spent each evening the same; dejectedly staring up at the plaster cracks on her ceiling.
It was a hell of a thing to be inspired and depressed at the same time.
There were so many portraits she wanted to paint, and she imagined them coming to life on the ceiling above her. Yet she could not seem to find it within her to get up, pick up her brush, and begin. Chise knew just what she had to do, but she could not find neither the motivation, nor the energy, to do so.
It seemed as if her bones were made of iron as her limbs felt heavy each evening as she fought for the energy to move them.
Sighing, she closed her eyes letting her mind wander over distant memories
“Chise?”
She startled at the sound as she had become accustomed to silence.
She sat up slowly, hesitant that this was only a dream an
But it wasn’t.
Elias was there, red eyes gleaming in the darkness like twin flames.
A smile lit up her features, she felt warmth spread throughout her body, as though spring had come to melt the ice that had frozen her.
Her bones still felt like iron, but now she felt as if she at last had the strength to move them.
Now, she wasn’t carrying the burden alone.
“Elias,” she said, getting up and walking over to the window.
“I’m sorry it took so long, it can be a bit taxing going between worlds like that. I shouldn’t have been so focused on my work, I’m sorry I’ll do my best not to let it happen again.”
His voice was sincere, grave even, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“It’s ok. I had some time to work on my English. See? I don’t need my book anymore,” she said.
Elias tilted his head sideways, indicating his surprise.
“You don’t, you’ve clearly been studying.”
“How’s you Japanese? Did you study too?” She asked in her native language.
“Umm, yes no good,” he said back in Japanese.
“It looks like we still have some work to do,” she said, switching back to English.
“I’m sorry, it’s very difficult to learn alone,”
“It is. I must confess I had help. A local British woman has been teaching me English in exchange for me helping her with her Japanese. It’s been very helpful.”
“I can tell, you’ve improved a lot since last we talked.”
Chise beamed at the compliment, and Elias wondered if he had a heart because if he did he was certainly having what humans referred to as a ‘heart attack’. His chest felt too tight and too light all at once and he had to clear his throat to regain his focus.
“Well, I think it’s wonderful your English has improved. It’s good timing really, there is something I wanted to ask you actually.”
“Ok. What is that...um...saying? I am all eyes?”
“Ears, these are eyes,” Elias explained, pointing to his eyes.
“Ah, right. Sorry they sound so similar and are so close together.
Elias chuckled, a deep sound that made Chise feel as if she was sitting by a warm fire.
“I had wanted to ask you...You see the equinox is coming up, in a few months that is. I had mentioned it previously to you. If you would be so inclined, you could visit. You could visit my world, that is, for a day, if you’re so inclined of course really I wouldn’t…”
Chise couldn’t really hear the rest of what he was saying, it was as if the world had shrunk down to only them.
“Yes.”
She didn’t need to hear anymore, not really. For the majority of her life she had been searching, reaching, for anyone to explore this life with. Some had ignored her outstretched hand, others had slapped it away in disgust, some had simply looked the other way. But now, for the first time, someone was reaching back out to her.
“I would love to.”
Elias looked at her, and leaned forward tilting his head.
“Really?”
“Of course, we’re...well we’re friends aren’t we?”
Chise walked closer to the glass that housed his reflection. She could feel the pull of his magic, and it seemed to her as though he was in the room with her, standing before her the way he had that night.
“Yes, of course Chise, we are friends.”
His voice seemed lighter, revenant even, and all other thoughts faded away.
Despite being two different beings from two entirely different worlds, at that one moment they were meeting in the middle. For a brief moment even their thoughts were the same.
Silently, they both thought to themselves, at last they had found a real friend.