Diabolicus

Why Not?

The indulgence of diversion was simply at an end.

...

At least, that was what Kennyo tried to tell himself each night he stood at the forest’s edge until the last candle had been snuffed out. He hadn’t entered her dreams in three nights. It was for the best. His place was in Hell where he needed to return and await his next summoning… and still he found himself watching over her daily actions.

Still he found himself peering through her dreamsphere each night, giving into curiosity.

This night, she sauntered along a stone balcony he knew only existed on castles of old lands and nowhere near these colonies of a young world. The golden gown that clothed her was the fashion of an ended age with the square neckline of a constraining bodice and full skirt swaying across the polished marble floor. A looping filigree traced the long, draping sleeves until the crimson trimming ended its pathway. Her silver locks were kept in their place by pearl encrusted combs pinned to the base of her head and then the luminous curls were allowed to dance freely in the moonlight.

Just as before, her gaze snapped to his without warning as a smile bloomed. “Now Puzzle Maker, I remember giving you permission to enter without invitation.”

“That you did,” Kennyo grinned as he joined her at the balcony. “As unnecessary as it was.”

Her smile faltered slightly at that. “Don't most immortals need permission to enter a realm or residence?”

“They do but, in the case of the Dreamscape--” Kennyo raised his left hand for her inspection, “--only a hair is needed to unlock the portal.”

A bark of laughter slipped from her throat once her eyes found the single silver strand wrapped around his fingers. “So, you've obviously had a plan from the beginning. You sought me out for possible connections to the Angel that was once my brother… but why do I still feel your presence like a second shadow? Why did you stay?”

Why indeed? Kennyo wasn't sure, even now, only knew that he felt a tug back to the mortal realm each time he stood at the precipice of Hell’s entrance. A pull that only ended in her presence like a fisherman's tether that had caught its prize. Not that he could tell her that, settling instead for indifference. “Why not?”

Her lavender eyes narrowed at the blasé response as if she could see through to the truth but kept her thoughts to herself. A sudden swell of music echoed through the stone walls of the palace to his ears, bringing back her usual radiant smile as she pushed from the balcony. A quick flourish of her hand had a pair of doors forming in the wall before her where previously only solid stone stood. Another flick of the wrist commanded them to swing, opening to a massive ballroom that hosted a moderate crowd of lavishly dressed dancers.

“What is this?” Kennyo questioned skeptically.

With a grin, she spun full circle as if to encompass the entire room until she met his gaze again. “My own means.”

He grinned at the repeated phrase from All Hallows Eve as he circled her in the same form of the dance portrayed by the dreamfolk before offering his hand to her in invitation. “So you often dream of parties that occurred before your time?”

She accepted his hand happily. “My time? Ha! You don’t know much of my kind, do you?”

“Of nephilim? Apologies, but no, I don't. The last Half-Born I know of was the giant Goliath.”