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"Jonathan!"
Jon frowned and stirred in his sleep when he heard that voice echoing in his head, covering his ears with his pillow. He couldn't figure out where it was coming from or who was calling him. All he knew was that he wanted to keep sleeping, wrapped in the heat that had taken hold of him. He felt as if he were floating in space, wandering among stardust and nebulae. He could touch every galaxy with his fingertips and taste the bizarre metallic flavour of cosmic radiation mixed with the smell of comet trails and planets on his tongue. How long had he been sleeping? How long had he been curled up under the covers, dreaming of distant worlds and planets in faraway galaxies? He didn't know, but that voice kept calling him, trying to bring him back from his idyllic dreams and tear him away from the warmth of that long night.
"Jonathan!"
Jon gasped, sat up on the mattress and muttered that he was awake. He pushed the duvet and blankets off him and blinked repeatedly to focus on the figure standing in front of him with its arms crossed. The figure was watching him. "D?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He felt Damian pat his thigh a moment later.
"You're finally awake," he said, adjusting his collar. "Hurry up, I don't want to be late for the ceremony."
Ceremony? Oh, wait a minute. Looking more closely at Damian, Jon realised that he was already dressed for the ceremony his father had organised especially for them. He was wearing a long, loose-fitting tunic with a high collar and V-neck that vaguely revealed his chest; it was a shade of green so dark that it looked almost black, and underneath this Damian had slipped on a pair of tight-fitting black trousers as was customary for ceremonies of this kind. He also wore a golden belt tied around his thigh, the ends of which could be seen below the tunic's hem and reaching down to his tall, narrow, gold-decorated boots. The whole outfit was finished off with a waist belt bearing the El symbol, as Damian did not yet have permission to wear the El colours. Damian had prepared himself thoroughly, which meant only one thing: he intended to impress his father as much as possible.
Jon understood. Making a formal request for a union, especially to the most important person of the House of El, was the greatest honour any Kryptonian could aspire to. However, he needed a moment to recover, and he groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Wait, I just need to—" he began, but felt his partner's weight on the bed shortly afterwards.
"Jonathan, my beloved, light of my life." Damian took his face in both hands. Despite the affectionate nicknames he had used, his eyes were serious and narrowed. "Today is the day I intend to formally ask your father for his consent to marry you. I don't want him to think I'm unreliable and won't show up on time."
Jon blinked, then smiled and caressed Damian's face in turn. "Dad adores you; he would never think that."
"He wouldn't show it out of politeness, but he might very well think it."
"You're just being paranoid"
"Shouldn't I be?"
"No, you shouldn't." Jon kissed him gently on the lips, resting his forehead against his. "But I understand how important it's for you to be impeccable in front of my father, so I'll get ready right away and we won't be late. You have my word."
Damian didn't say anything, but his nod was a clear "thank you" as he moved aside to let Jon up. Jon stole another kiss before heading to the bathroom and calling a Kelex to prepare hot water. The kelex brought salts and soaps, and clean, perfumed clothes for the ceremony. As nervous as he was, Jon couldn't help thinking that everything would be fine, and his parents would accept Damian's tribute without hesitation.
How could they do otherwise? After all, he and Damian had grown up together and taken the same courses. When they came of age, Damian had decided to join the Krypton Security Force and achieved the best grades of all the cadets in half the time. He swore allegiance to the commander in charge, appeared before the Council of Five and was awarded a medal during a support mission on the planet Daxam. Any parent would have done anything to have a young man with Damian's potential in their house. So yes, Jon was sure that Damian was worrying over nothing, yet he could understand why.
The hour before the ceremony was the longest Jon had ever experienced. Damian paced back and forth in their room, avoiding Jon's gaze and focusing on his speech. He repeated it with Kelex, who tried to be as helpful as possible, offering him drinks to refresh his throat. Jon tried to distract Damian by helping him adjust his tunic and fix his tiara, so as not to ruin his hairstyle. Although Damian muttered something to himself, he eventually relaxed his shoulders and calmed down, squeezing Jon's hand when it was time to attend the ceremony. The enormous main hall was festively decorated with trellises of singing flowers and large oregus flowers adorning the marble arches. The crystal-covered walls reflected the light of Rao from the vaulted ceiling, creating an almost unnatural atmosphere of blinding splendour. The marble columns were covered in trellises of the most colourful flowers the planet had to offer and were adorned with the symbols of the House of El. They pulsed with energy thanks to the technology at their disposal. Jon looked down at the floor and realised it was polished to such a shine that it resembled a mirror. It reflected his image and that of Damian, who stood at his side and had begun to hold his breath. He stared straight ahead at the centre of the hall, where the entire El family had gathered.
Although the room was brightly lit and felt warm and welcoming, the lights in the centre had been dimmed to create a subdued, reverential atmosphere that contrasted with the room's overall crystalline brilliance. His father stood on the enormous symbol of the House with outstretched arms, awaiting them. His hands rested on the hilt of the ceremonial sword that had been handed down to the heads of the family for centuries to use in such sacred ceremonies. His mother stood at his side. Her long black hair was gathered in a bun, from which stems of flowers and drops of crystallised dew fell, making her more beautiful and resplendent than the walls surrounding them. Damian's family were also there, each impeccably dressed in ceremonial armour and cloaks that fluttered in the breeze coming in through the enormous windows on either side of the hall. Everything was ready for the ceremony, and even the reproduction of the Jewel of Truth and Honour seemed to be waiting for it to begin.
Jon immediately squeezed Damian's hand to reassure him and turned to face him. "Everything will be fine," he said, smiling. Damian smiled and squeezed his hand back, and they walked together towards the centre of the hall.
Damian was the first to offer his greetings. He knelt on one knee, tapped his right fist against his shoulder and brought his left arm behind his back. His father motioned for him to stand up with a good-natured smile that gradually replaced the stern expression he had maintained until then. Jon straightened his back in eager anticipation, feeling his heart beat wildly. If he felt that way, he couldn't imagine how Damian must feel looking his father straight in the eye.
"Damian Wa-ghul." His father's voice resounded powerfully within the walls, causing the crystals to tremble and the lights to flicker. "State the reason why you stand before the House of El today."
"Kal-El, son of Jor-El." Damian took another step forward, placing his hand on the replica of the Jewel. "In honor of the family, I declare my desire to join my life with this man," he said, reaching out his other hand to Jon, who took it without hesitation, smiling at him. "On this day, and for all days henceforth."
The whole room fell silent, even the singing of the flowers seemed to stop, until his father stepped forward and, placing his hands on the Jewel, pronounced the vows. The surface trembled like the surface of a lake into which a stone had been thrown, causing two brightly colored strands to spring from the center of it. green and blue merged together, creating a single enormous sphere and shaping themselves before their eyes, taking the form of two bracelets that closed around the young couple's wrists with a loud snap.
"From this day forward, you are betrothed." Few words, simple and concise, which seemed to resonate around them like the sweetest of melodies before Kal-El leaned toward them to cup their faces and kiss their foreheads. "May the light of Rao shine upon you soon."
The ceremony ended with the couple exchanging a kiss, accompanied by the sound of singing flowers trilling in their ears and spreading throughout the hall. Their families sang their praises and paid homage to the union that would soon be sealed between them. It was a moment of loving glances and caresses, of noses touching and fingers running through hair. Their hearts beat as one, promising a life together. The next step was to reach the Fire Falls for good luck. Jon had suggested it, determined to do everything right and follow tradition. However, something seemed to weigh heavily on his heart during the hike, creating a void and a sense of unease in his gut. It was strange; it should have been their moment — a moment of joy, happiness and absolute love — yet that feeling continued to weigh on his chest like one of the boulders littering the road to the falls.
Jonathan!
Jon turned with a frown, peering into the darkness, confused. He had the impression of hearing someone call his name in Damian's voice, but it was impossible. Damian was right there beside him, wearing the green and blue wedding bracelet that glistened on his wrist in the warm light of Rao. He was walking with Jon along the road to the Fire Falls. So what—?
"Did you hear that, too?" he asked uncertainly, seeing Damian blink.
"Heard what?"
"I don't know. A voice, I think," Jon whispered. But Damian placed a hand on his forearm, brushing the bracelet that they both wore and which represented their union in the eyes of Rao.
"It's in your head." Damian's voice was full of understanding. "It's just the legend surrounding the falls," he continued. Gently, he began to trace small, concentric circles on Jon's skin, moving up to the back of his hand. "We're both men of science. We know the waterfall is caused by magma flowing towards the cliff. But I understand being here as betrothed can have an effect."
"I know," Jon whispered, bringing Damian's hand to his lips and brushing it with a kiss. "But you can't deny that the legend has its charm."
"It was after being tricked into imprisoning Cythonna that Rao took refuge in the heights..."
"...and wept tears of fire for a hundred days, giving rise to waterfalls of magma that still embrace the world."
"You remember it well."
"How could I forget it? Everyone knows the chronicles of the War of Ice and Fire and the reason why Rao ultimately exiled Cythonna. But..." Jon looked up at the waterfalls gushing from the cold stone and sighed deeply, trying to dispel the whispers he could still hear in his head. "I don't know. It's all so strange. Maybe it really is just my imagination."
"It certainly is, my love." Damian stood on tiptoe and kissed Jon on the lips, pulling him close in a possessive embrace as they gazed at the waterfalls. "Look at the spectacle before us instead. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" Damian rested his head against Jon's shoulder. A smile lit up his face and the magma glistened in his eyes. "The internal fires of our planet, bursting forth through a tiny crack, create a spectacular sight, don't you think?"
"It's wonderful," Jon whispered . As he spoke, he turned Damian towards him, embracing him and wrapping his arm around his waist, all the while continuing to smile. "But the best view is right here, next to me."
"You've always been good with words," said Damian, caressing Jon's face. "Even if it's all in your head, my love."
Jon's smile faded as soon as Damian said those words and his throat went dry. "What?"
"It's all in your head." Damian repeated them very softly, cupping Jon's face with both hands. "Think. Reflect. Breathe"
Jon blinked in confusion, repeatedly closing and opening his eyes as he scanned Damian's figure. His temples ached and every muscle felt heavy as lead, but he couldn't understand what was happening or what his partner was trying to tell him. His green eyes stared at Jon with such intensity that it was almost intimidating. Jon gasped, opening his mouth to reply. Suddenly, something flashed before his eyes: the waterfalls seemed to disappear, only to reappear fiercer than before. A crest bearing a golden letter 'R' on a black background then appeared on Damian's chest. But what—
"What is this?" Jon asked, touching it with two fingers. He immediately stepped back as if he had been burned and felt Damian grab his wrist.
"You know it."
"No, I—"
The ground seemed to disappear from under his feet. The earth shook for what felt like centuries and the voices in his head grew louder and stronger, screeching in his ears like nails on a chalkboard. Damian was still there, motionless and beautiful, exactly as he had left him. He was a point of reference amid the hammering chaos that had suddenly taken hold of Jon. Jon had no idea what was happening, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. But he could understand that the world around him was crumbling, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
"There's nothing for you here."
Damian pushed him away, or so it seemed to Jon. He tried not to lose his balance and fall, swallowing hard without taking his eyes off Damian. Those intense greens reminded him of the heart of the planet, the stone that Krypton was made of. Yet looking into those eyes gave Jon the impression that something was wrong. Wait, why did he think that now? Everything had been fine until then. He had become engaged to Damian with their families' approval, and the jewel of truth and honour would soon be worn by them both. But no. It was all wrong; it was all confusing. Neither of them should have been there.
"Think. Reflect. Breathe"
Jon tried to do just that, blinking and trying to make sense of the words. He breathed deeply in an attempt to make sense of all the little details that were beginning to come into focus before his eyes. Damian's fine clothes had been replaced by a red and dark grey uniform bearing an "R" on the chest. His green eyes were hidden behind a mask and the waterfalls behind him had turned to crystals, which exploded into a million pieces as magma gushed forth again, covering every surface.
"Ater Clementia."
"What?"
"Black Mercy."
Damian's words echoed around him as if bouncing off invisible walls. Jon suddenly gasped for air. His lungs contracted, his throat dried up and his eyes began to burn. The landscape around him darkened completely, shrinking to a tiny, unreachable dot of light. The more he tried to reach it, the more it moved out of his grasp. His breath was failing him by the minute. Deafening silence filled his ears and he could hear his own heartbeat. Noises and lights merged into psychedelic, multicoloured shapes, rendering him incapable of any rational thought.
What was happening? Why was it happening? Jon tried to cling to reality, rationally dispelling the horror that was taking shape before his eyes. But at the same time, his brain kept sending warning signals, telling him that there was something wrong with the life he had always believed to be true. Faces and voices of people he didn't remember began speaking to him, whispering that everything would be all right. Meanwhile, the symbol of his house — the "S" he had always proudly worn on his chest — began to fade, giving way to a farm nestled among golden fields and a young man in a cloak moving in the breeze.
"Take it!"
Jon didn't know whether that voice was talking to him, whether he had imagined it or whether it was simply part of his daydream. Either way, he shouted with all his might, brought his hand to his face and grabbed something that seemed to be stuck to it. Gritting his teeth, he shouted again and tore it away with all his strength, throwing it away from him. He saw a fiery ray strike it in the air and reduce it to ashes. Breathing heavily, Jon sat up and looked around until someone grabbed his face with both hands and Damian appeared in his field of vision.
"Breathe, Jonathan," he said in a clear, straightforward voice. Jon did so, swallowing and breathing through his mouth as he tried to get air back into his lungs and remember what had happened.
"Are you okay, son?" Shortly after, his father took a seat beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and looked at him with concern. "How are you feeling?"
How did he feel? As if he had been living in a dream until that moment, yet also realising that everything he had felt was completely wrong. "I... I don't know," he whispered, looking at the charred remains at his feet.
As his mind began to clear, Jon realised that the parasitic plant was Ater Clementia, commonly known as 'Black Mercy'. He had heard of it in his 'dream'; it had been Damian himself. Was the man he had seen really Damian? He had dealt with that plant many times, but never personally. He had always heard that dispelling the illusion it induced was often emotionally difficult, even for the most disciplined ego. No matter how successful one might be in noticing things that were wrong in the dream in which the plant imprisoned its victim, it was hard to escape. Had that world he had imagined, that sort of 'New Krypton' where he had lived and where he had thought everyone was happy, been just an illusion created by Black Mercy as it fed on his psychic energy? It was all so absurd that Jon still found it hard to believe.
"Don't move," Damian warned him when he tried to get up, feeling his father's grip on his shoulder tighten. "You were paralysed for hours before we found you here at the Fortress."
Jon rubbed his forehead, frowning. "How did I—"
"From the Kelex footage, it looks like there was a malfunction in the case, and Clementia took advantage of it to attach herself to you," his father explained, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him up. "It's a good thing we came looking for you, or you could have been trapped there for a long time."
"That dream felt so... real."
"The Black Mercy is a parasitic alien plant that paralyses its victim and feeds on the psychic energy generated by the illusions it creates. To call it a 'dream' would be wrong; it is reality in every sense," his father explained. Yet Jon couldn't shake the feeling that it had all been so real. "But whatever it led you to believe, it wasn't what you really wanted."
Jon glanced at Damian for a moment, his cheeks turning slightly red. "I'm not sure it wasn't," he whispered, more to himself than to his father or Damian. He decided to remain silent without elaborating, even though Damian had given him an intrigued look.
Once his father was satisfied that his vital signs were normal and that the parasitic plant had not affected his powers, Jon grabbed his jacket and offered to take Damian back to Gotham. They walked towards the huge doors of the Fortress while Damian put on his coat to protect himself from the arctic cold outside.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Damian asked suddenly. Jon turned slightly and shrugged before partially opening the doors.
"Yes."
"You've been avoiding looking at me since you were freed."
"Huh? No, I was just—"
"What did Clementia show you?"
Jon remained silent for what felt like an eternity, unsure whether to tell Damian about his experiences during the illusion. On reflection, it seemed absurd that he had imagined their life on a planet he had never seen and in a culture he had never experienced, yet it had all seemed so real and intense that it had clouded his sense of reality and made him feel that something was wrong. Had he wanted a life with Damian so badly that he had created a fictional one and settled for that dream?
"We were going to get married."
The words came out of his mouth in a rush, lighter than he had initially thought. Yet they left him in complete silence as he tried to formulate a response to the shock they might cause his friend. He liked Damian, but he had never told him. He had let that platonic feeling grow inside him, accumulating in his heart until it sprouted, but he had never let it blossom for fear of ruining something. And now, because of that stupid parasitic plant, he had blurted everything out. Contrary to his expectations, he heard Damian chuckle behind him. Jon looked at him in bewilderment, unable to understand what he found so funny. He opened his mouth to retort, but then Damian passed him with a wink and smacked his lips in his direction.
"Buy me a drink first, and then maybe I'll think about it," he teased, and Jon blinked, unsure whether he had understood correctly.
"What?" he repeated, watching Damian walk out of the Fortress whistling. He hurried after him without another word. "D, wait! What?!" he exclaimed, as Damian's amused laughter faded like an echo among the Fortress's crystals.
Months later, wrapped in Damian's arms in bed with their legs entwined and the blankets covering their half-naked bodies, Jon realised that nothing Clementia had shown him was more valuable than the moments he was still experiencing with Damian.