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Now
"And that was the scariest story in your life?" Laverna wrinkles her nose as she lounges on opposite Ady's end of the couch and twists a lock of her long dark hair around her finger, mulling. Her usual hoop earrings, swaying, catch the lights and glitter in the dim room. "Your love story? Without even a heartbreak, hah!"
Adélard doesn't reply. He phlegmatically keeps playing at the straw in his drink, which he doesn't even drink. He doesn't really know why he ordered it at the bar downstairs. So as not to fit in their company?
Nilam's room at the club is still stuffy, all the things in disarray, although it's been a few months since Ady has been here for the first time. Everything is the same, including dirty coffee mugs on the bookshelf in the same order, as though that shelf is made for them. Or, Ady thinks, it's some kind of magic, which he has no clue of--which stops the time and makes every night identical to the previous one, like that déjà vu that he's experienced before. Or maybe that's the beauty of nightclubs and bars? Maybe this sort of stable carelessness reigns over such places every night, and that's why fears of the real world don't exist here. Well, then Ady was grateful for that. He didn't feel like thinking tonight.
"Says the girl whose story included a bottle of vodka, a broken bank window, and a night in jail?" laughs Nilam from where he sits on the floor, his back against the bookcase. As usual, he looks sleepy and serious at once as he lazily stares at the can of beer in his hands.
"We didn't break it, we were invited!" Laverna hisses. "And we didn't know it was a bank. Lishan tell him!"
By Lishan, she didn't mean Ady. She glances at his sister. Tonight, they are all here: Ady and his sister, Nilam, Laverna, Kadri and Mir. Perhaps Adélard would feel much more comfortable in this strange company if Gyoku was also with them, but Ady is not going to introduce him to his new friends. Why? Does your Gyoku only exist in your wet dreams? Laverna once asked, having had too much tequila. Because he is not for you, Adélard cut her off. You're all losers, I don't want you to infect him, too.
Seated cross-legged on the floor and waving Laverna's question away, Ady's sister doesn't answer, either. His sister doesn't look like Adélard—and not because, unlike him, she doesn't care what people think, not because she's wearing a perky pink wig and silver stars that she borrowed from Gyoku are shimmering on the bridge of her nose tonight, but because she's always in motion. Even now, while everyone is sullen and gloomy, she, as if unable to be idle, has a huge jigsaw puzzle with an image of an old church on the floor in front of her. It stops my thoughts from spinning nonstop, she always says.
Yes, no one definitely wants to think tonight. Not about what they're all here for.
"Sure, invited," Nilam continues. "Through a broken window. You do realize that people use doors, right, hon?"
"Ady's story ain't about love." Kadri suddenly says from the chair in the corner where she sits with her knees pulled to her chin and a blanket around her shoulders. Moody, she looks at the jigsaw and says, "His story is about the control no one should be allowed to have over the lives of the others."
"Oh, you all are so virtuous, I'm gonna puke," turning to Kadri, Laverna gives her a sly smile. "And what is your own story, priest's daughter, hm? I doubt Ady told you about magic just to show off. What kind of shit have you gotten yourself into?"
Kadri's face turns to stone. "I won't tell you."
Laverne opens her mouth to insist, but this time Praejis cuts in.
"Let's get down to business," he says, making everyone shudder. His voice seems to take up all the free space in the room that's already too small for them six, leaving no air for a new breath. Mir has been silent all evening, which is too much even for him, standing by the window, apart from everyone, frowning at the clouded night sky. "We ain't here to criticize other people's decisions tonight. There's a more important problem--someone wants to kill us. Two people are dead already, simply because they knew what urban magic was capable of."
Silence hangs over them like another thundercloud. Ady can almost feel this cloud creeping like a chill over his skin, tingling, reaching into his very heart.
"For starters, how about coming up with a backup plan?" Adélard's sister suggests after a moment of quietness, her dark eyes shining like the stars on her nose as she looks up at the others. "In case the killer attacks one of us. There must be some kind of protective spell or something. Nilam? Maybe some kind of crystal that allows teleport far away when the killer finds us?"
"You can't teleport, hon," he shakes his head. "This is from science fiction books, not from our lives."
Gloomy, inevitable silence again.
There is now a jar of bones on the shelf behind Nilam, and Ady thinks it's crow's bones, but he doesn't dare to ask. He's not sure he wants to know how the magic from those old fairytales works, because he's afraid they have no other choice now.
The silence drags on until it becomes unbearable, and then, suddenly, everyone at once bursts with suggestions.
"Lie low?"
"Run away?"
"We could stop using magic... But what if it wouldn't help?"
"Lure the killer out?"
"How if we don't know who that is?"
"Find someone who knows?"
"They're dead, hon."
"Stop calling everyone hons!"
"Oh? Then you stop--"
"What if we resurrect someone?"
This time the silence that looms up at the sound of Mir's voice is heavy as the last beat of a dying heart.
"Sorry, I must be drunk by now." Nilam clears his throat with a nervous laugh. "Or did you really just propose to go to a graveyard, dig up someone's rotting body, and bring it back to life, Praejis?"
"Not a body. A soul. Yaroslava Slavich."
Ady doesn't like the sound of this name on Mir's lips. It sounds like a curse. "That's the girl from the news, right?" he asks. "They said she went crazy or something, burned herself alive in a house."
"And that was almost four years ago," his sister nods.
Kadri's cheeks, always rosy and blush, turn ashen. "She was evil. Dead people were standing around her like soldiers, defending her! Like some queen of the dead. That's blasphemous. Maybe this killer now wants to get rid of every magic user now because of her."
"You think Yaroslava was actually the first victim?" Ady glances at Mir.
"I know it."
"No, no, no..." Nilam jumps to his feet, his beer neglected on the floor. He looks at everyone. The shelf behind his back creaks, and the cups clink. Nilam's gaze is suddenly and completely sober, not a hint of drowsiness, not a trace of alcohol, when he looks at everyone in turn. He searches for prudence in their faces, and sighs, finding none. "Even I find an incantation for that, even if we locate a soul-free body for rent--" It is a joke, but nobody laughs.
"I know a body," Kadri says quietly, her words laced with surprising determination.
"A soul-free living body?"
"Not soul-free, but quite...soulless."
"Okay, fine. Imagine we do all that, then what? Mir, are you sure this Slavich witch had enough time to enchant her own soul before she died? That she ain't in heaven or hell and we can resurrect her?"
Mir only nods.
"Okaaaay. Let's pretend we have a body for her, her bones, the right magic." Nilam starts walking around the room, wringing his hand with concern. "Let's pretend we bring her back! Hon--Guys, are you serious? The girl's been dead for over three years--three years alone, in the darkness between heaven and hell! Nothing to do, nobody to talk to, only your own thoughts and memories. People go man thanks to less! Considering there was something off about her already, who can guarantee that she won't run off murdering people the moment we wake her up?"
"I'll guarantee."
When Ady looks up, Mir doesn't even blink, let alone look confused. I can. This is some kind of new, purposeful and either filled with hope or despair part of Praejis that Ady has never seen before. Not when they were alone, not at school, not with his father. He is as cold-blooded as he was when he was a child, but the emotions flickering in his eyes, those that he usually hides masterfully, give him away. It's as if he is thinking about something completely different from what he is saying now. It makes Adélard uncomfortable.
"How?" Nilam presses. "You've never even met this witch!"
"That's my problem, not yours, got it?" For the first time tonight, an emotion reaches not only Mir's eyes but also his face. Anger. "This witch can save us all. That's what you should be thinking about." Without adding a word, he walks over and leaves. The door bangs shut behind him.
The others glance at each other, but no one says a word. No one agrees, but no one refuses.
"What was that about?" Lav whispers.
Ady still hates magic, but he hates the idea of dying before he began living to the fullest, by his own rules, more. He gets up and follows Mir outside.
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It's another party in the club tonight, and the music shakes the walls, deafening for a moment when Ady walks into the corridor. Neon lights flash on the stairs, laughter flows by the tables, but there is no sign of Praejis on the stairs, in the corridor, or at the tables.
Looking around, Adélard is about to go down to the bar, but then he notices the curtains fluttering in the middle of the wall. At first glance, it seems that they are just for inappropriate, but decor, yet after he once looked closer, Ady one day realized that they hid an ugly window that had lost its glass and was closed with plywood. Now the plywood is moved, and the wind from the roof of the adjacent building seeps in.
After a hesitant pause, Ady steps over the broken windowsill and onto the roof. "Mir?"
As usual, leaning against the wall with his shoulder and his hip, Mir stands with his back to Ady and looks somewhere into the sky again, at the horizon covered with a night haze.
Skyscrapers shine in the distance on the other side of the river, by which the building stands, but here, in the old part of the city, it's dark and quiet. Darkness and quietness have never worried Adélard before, on the contrary--they lulled him, but tonight everything is wrong. Like the calm before the storm. Like an anxious thrill, a shiver that takes over you when you encourage yourself to ask someone a question the answer to which you are afraid to hear.
"What do you want, Lishan?" Mir asks without turning. A motionless, black silhouette against a slightly less black sky.
Unsure, Ady approaches and stops a step behind Mir's back. "I've never seen you this..."--lost--"tense," Adélard says. "Do you think we can really die?"
"Death doesn't scare me."
"What is it, then?"
Mir doesn't reply.
It's a winter night, cold and snowy. Ady is wearing a simple sweater, and the wind chills to the bones, making him shiver and wince, but he can't go back to the warmth of the party. The same annoying bell in his mind doesn't let go, doesn't quieten, and Ady can't ignore it anymore.
Before, Adélard always knew what his truth, his principles, the meaning of his life...and then Mir appeared. Mir, the one who knows how to lie with a shameless smile, and gets praise for it. Who always advises Ady the exact opposite of what is considered the norm, and wins. Who is constantly silent, but this silence makes Ady every time think about much more than any words.
If you stare into the abyss for too long...
"Can I ask you something?" Ady hesitates, but as Mir stays quiet, there's nothing to do but continue. "You can't use magic now, but...Back then, the night I first came to this club, I felt...Did you make me feel anything?"
"I can't make you now," Mir says without looking at Ady. "Do you feel the same?"
Before Adélard finds the words to reply, Mir spins around. Fast. Their eyes meet. If look into the abyss for too long...
Ady's mouth suddenly goes dry. There's a long second of confusion, and the first thought--slow and viscous like honey that came from nowhere and didn't freeze in the cold--that forms in Ady's lazy mind is about how close to each other they stand.
The moment reminds Ady of their fight by the swings. The heat, the shock, the longing...Ady doesn't really know what he expects, probably a new fight.
Ady's heart begins to flutter, treacherously, feverishly in her chest. Without realizing why, he goes still, forgetting all about the cold and his fears and questions. The very devil that Adélard had been watching from an early age, liking, hating, wishing, was now alone with him in the middle of the roof. No parents outside the window, no stars in the sky--no one who could stop them. A waking dream or a nightmare? Both?
"Do you?" Mir insists, holding Ady's gaze.
The heat spreads through Ady's whole body like a wave, when Mir takes half a step forward and his breath suddenly touches Ady's lips. Light, but persistent, Mir puts his hand on the back of Adélard's neck and pulls Ady to himself without saying another word, still waiting for Lishan's reaction. Hypnotizing. Demanding? Or pleading without words...Adélard is taller, but he finds himself leaning in, mesmerized by the touch, expecting God knows what.
If look into the abyss for too long...
Was it magic that made Adélard fall in love with Praejis one day? That made him ask for help? That disappointed him in people and their double standards? Forced to forget how to distinguish truth from lies and wish that Ady's own lies could make all the deepest desires of his heart come true?
The kiss is hard, hot, demanding. Rude and... sad. No velvet on Ady's tongue. It tastes like alcohol Mir drank tonight, longing, and loneliness, not a dream.
Like an opportunity missed.
Perhaps Adélard could convince himself not to think about all this. Not to think about tomorrow and the fact that he betrays himself by betraying Gyoku when he agrees to Mir's presence. To lean closer, deeper, as he imagined when he was fourteen. To feel the imperfection of the first kiss and the perfection of the riddle named Praejis, which everyone at their school once dreamed about.
If look into the abyss for too long...
Isn't that what Ady dreamed about, too? About pinning the best enemy to a cold wall with his own body flushed with half-forgotten feelings, pulling off Mir's stupid tie and tight jacket, exploring every inch of Mir's exposed skin with his lips, every curve of Mir's body covered with goosebumps, every muscle, forgetting, dissolving in this feeling...Despite all doubts and established rules.
To be free, like the wind rushing past them.
But when Mir slows down, giving Ady a chance to continue, Ady does not take this chance.
Mir freezes half-breath, his eyes open again and staring at Lishan in wonder. In confusion, as if he had never received a refusal from anyone before, as if it certainly wasn't Adélard who had the right to be his first refusal. Resentment or discontent, but an emotion flickers in Praejis's eyes again, like a fading spark, before he manages to hide it behind his trained indifference.
Ady doesn't move.
If not witchcraft, then what made Lishan stop now? And dream then? Was it fear? Anger? Envy?
If you look into the abyss for too long...you'll realize that this abyss is nothing but your own reflection. Then, at the age of fourteen, it seemed to Adélard that Mir could do anything. That he was the unattainable ideal, which must be reached at all costs, like the moon in the sky. Must be earned. Conquered. And then... Ady did not conquer him--and his own life didn't end. Worse, it grew better! He had nothing to do but become his own ideal, learn to make his own decisions, to be responsible for them. Adélard wasn't sure when, but he realized that everything that ever attracted and outraged him in Praejis was what he simply didn't allow himself to feel. Anger, courage. Freedom. So why would Ady need the devil and his deal now if he had it already? That he could be his own villain and his own hero?
This is the only real magic--a human heart. No one can control it, no one can tame it, no one can deceive it forever. Even you, yourself.
"I thought that's what you wanted," Mir says, disappointed as he pulls his hand away from Ady's neck. Ady feels cold again, but the decision has been made. Now he can do nothing but be proud of it.
"I did," admits Ady, shivering once more and shoving his hands in his pockets. "But it was a long time ago, now I have different dreams. And...no offense, but I don't trust you, Praejis. You're too unpredictable. You disappear and reappear without warning. I don't like it."
"Wow, Lishan has given up the habit of pleasing everyone," with a hoarse laugh Mir starts pacing back and forth in front of him. "Or just me? How lucky I am."
Ady doesn't say anything. Silent, he watches Mir's tense steps, then, as if giving up, Mir exhales and drops to sit next to the open window, the back of his head against the wall.
"But I don't trust myself, too," Mir continues, looking up at the sky. At the rare snowflakes that shine in the darkness, while the wind ruffles his black locks. "I ruined everything. That witch died because of me."
Ady remains silent, unsure if he has the right to pry since Mir doesn't explain his words. Eventually, after a long moment, Adélard comes over and quietly sits down next to Praejis, his back against the wall. It's even colder to sit, but heart-to-heart conversations always warm one's soul, so perhaps this is a kind of balance.
"Why have you never told anyone that your father beat you?" asks Ady without glancing at Mir.
"And why have you never told everyone that you've a boyfriend?"
"Nobody wants to know." With a sour laugh, Ady shakes her head. "And why should I tell? Isn't that what homophobia is all about? About people expecting you to explain yourself and come out? When people search your words and choices for a reason to change their attitude toward you? Everyone doesn't want to know me or my truth, most of them want to persuade me in theirs. But as long as people continue dividing each other based on some features and treat these features as something special, no matter praising or condemning, this will be a problem. Something that needs to be explained. Something that divides everyone like enemies, not unites like friends."
Thoughtful, Ady looks at the sky. Snowflakes fall over him, forcing him to squint, settling on his hot cheeks with a pleasant coolness.
"And, according to this logic, should I have thrown a party in honor of my sexual orientation?" he continues. "Then here it is, tonight. Everyone is invited, but...not everyone. I used to think that laws and rules were necessary for feeling peaceful order in your heart. To protect us from discord and chaos and wars, so that everything works like clockwork, and everyone has their own place, but it turned out that the whole world is built on lies."
"Rules dictate you a place convenient for the powerful others, not your heart," says Mir. "They don't care about your heart and soul."
"And if there is no order in one's soul, what kind of order can there be in society? It turns out that people lie to survive, and survive to lie."
"A vicious circle?"
"A vicious circle."
Silence prevails for a minute. Inexplicable melancholy consumes Adélard once again. It seems like he finally figured out his feelings, found what he wanted, understood what he believed in--in nothing--but... something is still missing. Ady can't even formulate it for himself, squinting and staring at the sky grayish with clouds. Maybe Ady still doesn't understand his feelings that well, since he still can't explain them to himself? After all, no one taught him to understand them, study them, talk about them...In Ady's childhood, the was always Be quiet and listen, grow smarter or Well, you and said too much again, so now be quiet, grow smarter.
A vicious circle.
Is this really what life is all about?
"Everyone knew," Praejis says suddenly, when Ady almost believes that he is left alone in the universe.
Catching Adélard's bewildered glance from the corner of his eye, Mir shrugs with one shoulder.
"The answer to your question," he says. "Everyone knew that he beat me. Teachers at school, his colleagues, his friends, your parents...Who could I talk to? He has always been more important to our society than I was, so what would have changed if I started shouting about myself? No one would have helped me anyway. And now, they would've been pointing fingers at me, reminding me of my past every day and discussing me for the rest of my life, like a magazine article. But nobody canonized me so I'm not gonna give people the opportunity to numb their own pain with mine."
"They used to say that all your weirdness was because of magic you got yourself into," Ady says.
"Well, I did get myself in it."
"But it's not the reason. At school, they thought you were a demon."
"I'd rather be remembered as a fateful demon than a spineless, broken child."
Ady exhales slowly, and a cloud of hot steam appears in the air in front of him for a moment. Somewhere beyond the horizon and clouds, the sky is already turning crimson with dawn, and it's time to return to the club. It's time to go home before his parents wake up and realize that Adélard has been missing all night, it's time to think about how to get rid of the witch hunter who showed up in their city and how to live on. But he still doesn't want to think.
"I used to believe you were happy, Mir," admits Ady.
Mir suddenly starts laughing. "Well, you see?" he says, looking at Ady with a smile and nudging his shoulder. "I did teach you to lie, then. To yourself. At least I amended one of my mistakes."
If you stare into the abyss for too long...
She died because of me...
It's time to think, it's time...
"So, tomorrow. We're going to resurrect a witch?" Adélard asks.
Mir nods. "We're going to resurrect a witch"
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