WISH
Mari thinks she can keep me out of the loop. I'm the only who told her about Vear contacting us. I'm the one who came up with the plan to trap Vear at the Frat House. I'm the one who is risking her life day in and day out, while this paper butterfly lives another day.
Maybe what I'm doing is stupid, but I have to hear the words straight from his mouth. I need to know more about this paper butterfly and how I can destroy it. Of course, he won't tell me outright what I want to know, but with a little give and take, I'm sure he will oblige. Vear has been searching for this butterfly for, I don't know—forever it seems. He must know more than the story books are telling. He to know a way to kill this thing.
I walking down the dark hallway, making sure my footsteps are soft and quiet. Light from the room, shines from the bottom of the door. It's so bright, I can't imagine having to sleep in that kind of harsh environment. With one easy turn, I open the door and step inside.
Vear is bound by chains and glass cuffs. His head is dropped forward, hair drooping over to cover his face. Shadows crack and snap at the light around his shoulders, trying to disarm the impossible. He's breathing heavy, but I'm no fool. He has to be faking it.
I look around the room, but the lights are too bright, they're giant balls of sun. There are no exits in the place, no way for him, or me, to get out. Until I decide to open this door again, we're trapped in here together. Alone.
The second I shut the door behind me, a sharp smile crawls over his face. "I was wondering when you'd stop by, dreamwalker."
Even in a dream his voice is alluring.
He thinks I'm here in the real world. Good. At least I know my plan is working out so far. I lean against the padded wall, crossing one foot over the other. "So, I heard you threatened to kill me to my mom's face. That's not very nice of you."
Vear keeps his eyes on the floor. "Your comrades threatened to burn me alive."
"You killed my teacher," I snap.
He chuckles under his breath. "You're forgetting yourself, dreamwalker. Why did you really come here? To merely spit words in my face?"
He's right, I hate to admit. I can't let my anger get the better of me. I need answers and I need them now. We've run out of time.
I cautiously slide to the ground, so I'm more level with him. His dark gaze peeks from beneath his fallen hair. "What can you tell me about the paper butterfly?" I ask.
He watches me, watches my chest rise and fall as I try keeping myself calm. He stares at me for what feels like an eternity until I decide enough is enough. I get up to leave. This is a waste of time. I should've known he'd never tell me anything.
My hand is on the door knob when he speaks. "I have been searching for the paper butterfly since I was a child of five. It first appeared to me in our garden at home and quickly took a liking to me. I used to play with it. We would run around the flower patches and float near the waterfall. Many servants thought it was hilarious. An insect playing with the little prince, they laughed. But I knew deep down it was magical. I could taste the power on my tongue."
If he's telling the truth, he's been chasing after this butterfly for ten years. And here I thought he was just obsessed with its power. Maybe there's more behind the story than just what the butterfly can give him.
"Why didn't you catch it then?" I ask. "If you were so close?"
Vear chuckles, again, as if my words amuse him. "Why does a cat play with its prey before it eats? Curiosity or enjoyment?" he says. "Tell me, dreamwalker. Why are you working for Gens Helios? For money or entertainment?"
As if I'd tell him. "You didn't answer my question."
The room drops in temperature. Cold air chills my skin, penetrating my very bones. It's supposed to be blazing hot in this room. The lights are still on, their heat wave a never-ending blaze, but I don't feel it. I can't feel the heat anymore.
"Have you heard the story of Mother God?" Vear asks.
I don't turn around. I continue facing the door, clenching the knob in my hand. "Yes, I've heard the story. Does she have something to do with the paper butterfly?"
He ignores my question, though I already know the answer. "Did you know each region has their own version of the story? That doesn't include the Wanderers and their many tales. No, if you count them, there would be a thousand versions that change with each passing mouth."
"What's your point?"
"My point, dreamwalker, there are only two solid versions that mention the paper butterfly," Vear says, and that makes me turn around. He's lodging against the chair, head tilted to the side, smile sharp and enjoying this far too much. "Gens Isa, who worships the ground Mother God walked on, and Gens Augelli, who proclaims Mother God was a warrior born from the stars."
A warrior? That's the exact opposite of the meek and frail Mother God I grew up hearing about. Gens Helios has based their whole foundation around criticizing her and upholding the core values of their one true deity, Bazil, the Serpent of Fire.
I knew there had to be other stories.
"I'm sure you're curious to know what they say." He tilts his head to the other side. "It will come at a price."
The room flickers slightly. A throne made of skulls replaces his chair, and just as quick as it comes, it's gone. What was that? The lights are still solid, but there's a noticeable dim, dropping slowly by the second. I reach for the door knob. It vanishes from sight. The door absorbs into the padded wall until there's no escape.
I could conjure a hole in the floor and jump through it... but into what? Where will his dreams lead? What kind of Hell will await me?
The chains rattle. I put my back to the wall and face him.
My breathing won't steady, heart feels like it's jump out of my chest.
His earrings float on either side of his head; their points gleaming. They whistle through the air, fast and piercing, and shatter the cuffs at his wrists and ankles.
"Did you think I wouldn't know?" Vear eases to a stand, glass crumbles from his body. "Dreams are made from darkness, and I was born from it."
Fuck this. I conjure a hole beneath my shoes.
Nothing happens.
I summon a blade to my palm.
Nothing still.
What is going on!
One blink. He's now standing in front of me. "You think I'd let you escape."
I duck under him and run towards the chair. Distance; I need distance. There has to be a way out of here.
He grabs my arm and slams me into the nearest wall. He presses hard into my back, forcing my arms above my head, squeezing the life out of my wrists. His nose is at my throat, breathing in my scent.
"You think I wouldn't notice a fake. Your too smart to hand over the butterfly so easily," he says, sliding a hand down my waist. "I can smell it on you."
I try moving my legs. Vear positions himself so I can't even move an inch back. This is so frustrating. He presses his fingers in my pockets, searching. "Thief. Liar. What else are you hiding, dreamwalker?" he says.
I snap, "For the last time, I didn't steal the damn butterfly!"
My head slams back into his face. The advantage of being just an inch taller than my enemy. He uses one hand to grab his nose, giving me enough room to escape. I stomp on his boots, then kick his shin when that isn't working. The bastard finally lets me go, stumbling against the chair. He uses it to anchor himself and wipes the blood on his sleeve.
So, he bleeds red. I guess even nightmares are mortal.
There's still no way out of this hell hole. I didn't come with an anchor. Aiya's sleeping soundly in my bed next to me. She never would've let me dreamwalk into Vear's dreams. Now that doesn't seem like such a bright idea. Maybe I am reckless.
To hell with it. What can I use that's one me? I quickly pat down my body, watching Vear the entire time, keeping a safe distance away from him. I need something tough, something strong and won't need later. What did Sensei always say? Always wear shoes that fit just right.
I crouch down and untie one shoe lace, yanking out the strings as fast as I can. Vear clenches his teeth and cracks his nose back into place. I didn't think I hit him that hard, but Aiya does say my head is as hard as a rock. Another advantage I'll have to remember.
Vear rolls his shoulder like he's preparing for a fight. I twist the shoes laces around both my knuckles and make it tight. Bring it on. I'm ready!
He approaches, keeping his pace steady. I edge against the wall, keeping my back pressed to it and try to keep the distance far and between. My eyes won't leave him this time. They can water all they want I refuse to blink.
His fingers mutate into obsidian claws. They're long and jagged, lethal, and ready to attack. "I will take the butterfly from your dead corpse."
These shoes laces are not going to hold up against that. Think, Wish, think. Keep him distracted until I can wake up. "You know, what? Have you ever thought maybe the butterfly doesn't like you? I bet that's why you couldn't catch it as a kid. It didn't want you. It saw you and thought, this guy isn't worthy of my powers, and flew off into the sunset—"
"Be quiet!" He slashes towards my head. I crouch just in time, and take off running to the other side of the room. It was a brief second, the moment he disappeared and reappeared, but enough to save my life.
Keep moving. Keep talking. "The paper butterfly didn't want you, so it flew around Akane until it found me. Bored out of its mind, it decides to hitch a ride in my hood and come to Earth with me. I'm sure Earth is more exciting than Akane."
His steps falter. "What did you say?"
"It chose to leave Akane behind and come to Earth on its own. I didn't steal it, so stop blaming me!" I take off running towards the chair. I'd break it if the thing weren't made of solid steel. Maybe there's pieces of chain I can use with this shoe lace.
I don't get a chance to look. Vear meets me there and slashes the chair into pieces, which actually works better in my favor.
My palm stings from hitting the concrete too hard. Ignoring the pain, I dive for a shard. His hand is at my throat. I stab him in the arm and he doesn't even flinch. My palms cut, bleeding a new open wound from the pressure of the shard.
This is it. I'm really going to die.
His claws form into one giant point and aim at my forehead. He should be smiling and feeling joyful with my death, then why does he look so sad?
"I see. The butterfly chose you... another dreamwalker," he whispers, clenching his jaw, and for a brief moment, there are tears in his eyes. "Why does it never choose me?"
A high screech pierces the room. We're both stunned silent. The walls crumbles around us, lights vanishing in a gust of wind. The floor cracks and breaks apart, until there's only a small patch left for us in the middle of this nightmare.
Then we both fall and vanish into the all-consuming void.