by Gloria Dark
Demian’s mind filled with fresh doubts. If fon Vorigans knew who Eden indeed was, why would the fear a god? Unless this god was pure evil.
“Do you trust me?” Eden approached Demian.
“No!” Demian replied.
“Good. You shouldn’t!” Eden smirked, taking Demian’s hand in his, “But I need to show you something!”
Eden glanced at Nataniel and nodded as if they could communicate without words. The little boy slid into the ballroom immediately, dragging everyone’s attention to him. He created an illusion of golden birds swirling through the air, singing loudly to entertain the guests. All eyes were on him.
“Come with me,” Eden whispered into Demian’s ear.
He lifted the boy up as if he were his baby brother and jumped over the balcony. A second before his feet landed on the ground, a mist-like shield appeared under his feet, shaped like round platforms. They formed into stairs and dissolved behind him. Demian watched the magic with his eyes wide open and surprised.
Eden released his friend as they landed in the labyrinth of the rose garden. As if the flowers could recognise their master, they bloomed open wherever Demian stepped.
“Why did you bring me here?” Demian asked, touching the soft rose petals.
“We are the gods trapped inside vampire bodies, we feed on mortal blood to maintain our own youth. We intake experiences and emotions of others by devouring them. It’s how we see into their minds and the deepest corners of their souls.” Eden said.
“I’m not going to hunt if that’s what you want!” Demian froze, “I’ve never hunted before, it’s against the rules!”
“So is drinking human blood before you should!” Eden’s eyes pierced through his new friend, “You won’t be able to fool the adults for too long. However, hunting is not the reason I brought you here.”
“How did you know I’ve tasted human blood already?” Demian asked, his voice trembling in fear of the Elderly.
“I can recognise your scent. The other day, you were a garden of roses, but your fragrance has changed.” Eden explained, “Don’t worry, other’s haven’t noticed it. Nobody can smell things the way I can, but you should be careful. Once you start to feed, it makes you addictive if you’re not ready for the power you receive. If you want to play that game, you have to play it right - as if your life depended on it. Because it does!”
“I still don’t understand why you brought me here.” Demian tried to change the subject, feeling uncomfortably transparent.
“Do you know what happens when you bite someone?” Eden asked.
Demian shook his head in response.
“You lose yourself for a moment.” Eden replied, “You become what you eat, you see their soul. And if you’re not attentive enough…”
“You die?” Demian asked nervously, his heart thundering.
“No, not really.” Eden giggled, “You simply forget where you start and where your victim ends. If you drink them dry, you are no longer you. That’s why the Elderly forbids everyone unfit to tame themselves to bite anyone before they are ready. Because any vampire is under the risk of losing themselves.”
“I… I still don’t understand,” Demian admitted.
“May I drink your blood?” Eden asked, his voice serious, “I couldn’t ask you when we were at the ball because other vampires would sense the blood.”
“What?” Demian stepped backwards, “B-b-but I’m a vampire too!”
“Has anyone ever told you what happens if a vampire drinks from another vampire?” Eden asked calmly, his eyes glancing up to the stars.
“I didn’t think it’s possible unless we drink from our parents when we are little!” Demian replied, his entire skin covering in cold goosebumps.
“When a vampire devours any mortal, they feed on their energy with the possibility to lose themselves, with the possibility to harm the other being.” Eden explained, “When a vampire devours another vampire, they harm no one. They share eternal energy with each other, they share experiences and can live even longer and healthier. For some reason, everyone seems to keep it a secret, and the majority of purebloods don’t even remember it. As if they’re no longer pure!”
“But why do you want to drink my blood?” Demian asked.
“Because I want to save you,” Eden whispered to nobody in particular, staring at the red roses and poking them with his fingernails.
“From what?” Demian panicked.
“Listen, I’m not forcing you.” Eden sighed, “I just want to get that filthy blood out of your system, it’s not meant for you.”
Demian had thousands of reasons not to trust a vampire who injected kenzomoria into his veins, thrilled to die, but his heart had an opinion of its own. Deep inside, he felt he could trust the mysterious pureblood.
“Do it, then.” Demian’s intuition spoke for him as the boy offered his wrist to the possible god.
Eden seemed surprised, but he didn’t hesitate to accept the brave offering. Without saying another word, he pierced his fangs through Demian’s wrist as gently as possible. His eyes turned darker, nearly black.
Demian watched his veins turn black near Eden’s fangs, but he felt no pain. He expected to feel weakened, but he ended up having more energy than before as his senses calmed. His ears no longer drummed with disturbing sounds, eyes no longer searched for annoying details.
A second later, Eden released the boy and watched his wound heal immediately. Demian’s veins were no longer black as if the darkness had been taken out.
Eden, on the other hand, appeared dizzy. His eyes had lost their shimmer and turned entirely black as if he had lost his soul somewhere dark.
“A-are you okay?” Demian asked worriedly.
“Yeah,” Eden forced a smile, sitting down on the ground nearly lifeless. He dropped his head in his palms, speaking quietly, “There’s just… I didn’t know he was here too.”
“Who?” Demian asked, kneeling next to his strange friend.
“The broken butterfly!” Eden glanced upwards with his pitch-black eyes, “I thought he died, but it looks like all of us are connected endlessly. I wonder if there’s a reason why we reincarnate.”
Demian remained silent, still confused about Eden’s words. The boy was unmistakeably crazy, but it was hard to predict when he spoke the truth, and when he lost his mind.
“I’ll give you a parting present,” Eden said, placing his hands over his chest. A bright golden light appeared under his palms when he said the name of Hiopesia weapon, “Morcie!”
The enchanted violin appeared in Eden’s hands. Its black surface glimmered even in the dark, the golden symbols swirled in a graceful dance.
“You need it more than I do!” Eden said, placing his violin into Demian’s hands, “I can play any instrument, but this… This will save you countless of times. I trust you will take good care of Morcie.”
“But… I don’t even know how to play it!” Demian replied, stunned by surprise.
“Simply surrender to the melody, and it will guide you!” Eden smiled, his energy seemingly restoring, “Remember, Morcie holds a soul of a god, so make sure you keep it safe. It will serve you well when you truly need it.”
“Eden, you are confusing me.” Demian admitted, “One moment you tell me you want to taste my blood, then you talk about saving me and now this! What did you mean when you said all of those things? Who did you call a broken butterfly?”
Eden placed a hand on his friend’s head, gently stroking it. His dark eyes returned to purple, but his gaze remained worried.
“I meant Lucius.” Eden whispered carefully, daggering and shattering Demian’s heart, “If you want to save him, you should give him a taste of your blood too. His body can barely sustain his soul, and it will break if he doesn’t get proper blood.”
Demian’s eyes filled with tears, his chest tightened. He turned around to hide his watery eyes, trying to pull himself back together. Eden stood up and embraced his friend with compassionate warm
th.
“I cannot save you from your own darkness, but I hope my gift helps you to survive it,” Eden whispered before dissolving into a dark shadow.
Demian watched him disappear and took a moment to understand what happened. Confusing emotions overwhelmed his heart, but the boy tried his best to control them. Eden had seen his secrets through his blood, but Demian felt somehow relieved. He had to keep his twin brother’s existence as a dark secret, but being able to share it with another person made it easier to bear.
After spending time in the rose labyrinth alone with the violin, Demian decided to hide it before his family could find out about it. He had no time to learn to play the instrument, but the gift was precious because he had earned a friend. Even if the friend was insane and imagined himself to be a god.
Demian sneaked to his bedroom unseen. It was a luxurious room full of rose engravings in the golden furniture, dark blue wallpaper glimmered with little painted stars, complimenting the large paintings of landscapes. Sating covers and a dozen cushions decorated the enormous bed. There was a massive door that led to another room devoted to his clothing, but it was large enough to fit two more bedrooms into his wardrobe.
Perfectly tidied outfits hung on the walls arranged by colours and occasions. Different shoes covered an entire wall of shelves suitable for a glamorous library. The furthest wall was covered in older clothing, pushed so tight to each other that even a spider would be unable to crawl through. A magical ball of purple light appeared above him to dissolve the darkness.
Demian laid down on the floor in front of the outfit-wall and rolled under it. On the other side, there was a tiny space full of different objects that would seem like rubbish to other purebloods but meant a world to Demian.
There was a cracked snow globe that used to play music when the boy was younger. A few broken toys sat on the floor neatly arranged, colourful gemstones laid in a pile, forming a tiny mountain. Demian placed his violin behind the toys, trying to hide it. When the boy rolled out of his sanctum, Nataniel was already there, waiting patiently.
“Nataniel, what are you doing here?” Demian asked, worried if anyone else was in the room.
“I was waiting for you. It will be safer if you stay by my side during the rest of the night!” Nataniel replied and took Demian’s hand to lead him back to the ballroom.
Nobody seemed to notice their disappearance, not even Morteeze family. Demian searched for Eden, hoping to find him back in the ballroom, but his friend had left without the rest of his family.
The older members of the Morteeze family seemed pleased to see Demian together with Nataniel. It was in their interests for both boys to get along since the Sunborns were one of the oldest superior wizards.
When the ball was over, Demian was finally allowed to visit Lucius to feed him with the freshly prepared blood bottles, but when he entered his room, Lucius still laid on the floor unconscious. Nobody had visited him, not even servants.
“Lucius!” Demian knelt next to his brother, wiping away the dry blood from his nose to check if he was still breathing.
Lucius opened his eyes slowly.
“Thank all gods…” Demian sighed in relief to see his twin alive.
“Demian!” Lucius brightened up, his lips forming a more energetic smile than usual, “I was waiting for you!”
“What were you doing on the floor? You should stay in bed!” Demian lifted his brother up to carry him to the bed.
“I went on a trip!” Lucius replied, his eyes full of life, “I flew over the Sleeping Woods so high that the magic trees could not reach me! I saw the glittery white petals falling from the sky, they were magnificent!”
“You mean snowflakes?” Demian asked, his face full of concern as he tucked his little brother into soft blankets.
“I don’t know, I had never seen them before. There were many shapes, they were cold and beautiful!” Lucius continued his story with eyes glimmering.
Demian looked outside the window. There was no trace of snow yet. His chest tightened painfully when he thought his brother had started losing his mind too.
“Brother, I saw a beautiful garden in the middle of the forest! It was majestic, full of red and white flowers!” Lucius continued, trying to free himself from the blankets, “There were glass walls and a glass rooftop, both crystal clear. When my wings froze and became heavy, I fell on the translucent glass. Do you know what I saw before I died?”
“Lucius!” Demian could no longer listen to another word about his brother’s death.
“I saw a woman! She laid between the flowers, I thought she was dead too, but then she looked at me!” Lucius continued, his voice impatient, full of excitement, “Then I died because of cold, but I heard your voice calling my name, and it brought me back to the room!”
“Lucius, please!” Demian demanded silence, “Enough of this depressing talk. You are alive, you never died! It was just a dream, okay?”
“No, brother!” Lucius objected, “I’m telling you the truth! I felt it on my skin, it was real! I was a butterfly!”
His words shattered Demian. The butterfly was the same word Eden used to describe the frail boy.
Suddenly, Eden’s warning came back to Demian as if his voice were still whispering into his ear, telling him to feed Lucius with proper blood.
“Lucius, you must drink this blood!” Demian demanded, pointing at the two bottles he brought to the room.
“But…” Lucius paled, “I thought we… I thought you…”
“You must try!” Demian said firmly, “For me… Please!”
“But I can’t, you know I can’t!” the excitement disappeared from the boy’s face. Lucius feared the blood. “It will make me sick again!”
“Lucius, please!” Demian cried out, his eyes filling up with water drops.
Seeing his brother that sad made Lucius reconsider his choice. He looked at the bottles, sighing heavily.
“I’ll try,” he said.
Demian opened one of the bottles, holding it to his brother’s lips. Lucius made a disgusted face but drunk the blood anyway. He managed to empty the entire bottle, but his smile faded. Demian wiped his lips.
“See? It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Demian lit up with hope, “It will help you to recover, you just need to get used to it!”
Lucius skin became lifeless grey and covered in cold sweat. His face painted a painful expression as he wrapped his arms around his stomach.
“Luci…” Demian watched his brother vomit all blood on the blanket. His heart felt like somebody tried to strangle it with spikes hands.
Lucius fell backwards into the pile of pillows, breathing heavily. His eyes lost their dazzle as he tried to stay conscious.
Demian removed the dirty covers, threw them into the fireplace and set them on fire by a handmade flaming bullet.
“I’m sorry, Lucius!” Demian cried, stroking his brother’s hair, “I just don’t know what else to do. I need you. I need you to be alive!”
“Where’s my notebook?” Lucius asked, glancing over the bed with eyes floating away from reality.
“What notebook?” Demian tried to search for an unknown object.
“The magical one. It’s where I learned the spells to become a butterfly!” Lucius pointed at the leathery notebook laying near his feet.
Demian froze for a second. Hoping somebody would have actually given a book of spells for Lucius to learn them successfully tingled through Demian’s chest. What if Lucius spoke the truth, was his first idea.
Lucius managed to sit up by himself and reached towards the notebook. He opened the right pages and watched them shine with golden light.
“See?” Lucius handed Demian the notebook, pointing at the swirling symbols flowing in a circular motion over the pages, “This is the spell! I learned it and used to create a butterfly so I could release it outside and use its eyes to see the freedom!”
Demian’s eyes watered as he shifted from one page to the next one until he scanned a
ll pages, all possible corners to see something, anything. But the notebook was empty. Demian’s hope died.
“It’s… it’s empty!” Demian tried to speak, but his chest was ready to explode.
“What?” Lucius blinked confused, watching the symbols glimmer brightly, “Maybe you’re looking at them from the wrong angle?”
“All of it was just a dream!” Demian burst out, glancing at the broken pencils. None of the items was given to Lucius by him. “Where did you get that notebook?”
“A shadow brought it to me!” said Lucius, “I don’t know his or her name.”
“By shadow, you meant our servants?” Demian asked, clicking his fingers in the air.
The walls became darker as the boy summoned the servants. Faceless silhouettes came out of the wallpaper. The had no eyes, no body - only tall figures shaped like chess pawns.
“Was it any of them?” Demian asked, pointing at the twelve servants who were assigned to look after the sick boy.
“No, none of them.” Lucius shook his head, watching the servants slide back into the walls.
“Another servant then?” Demian wondered, “It’s better to get rid of this.”
“No!” Lucius cried out as Demian threw the notebook into the fireplace.
The paper got swallowed by flames, making a cracking sound.
“Why? Why did you do it?” Lucius cried.
“Because whatever that thing was, it’s evil!” Demian replied in a stern voice.
“I can prove it was real! Let me show you the magic!” Lucius begged. He took the pencils and started drawing something on the bedside table.
“What are you doing?” Demian watched the boy draw a red butterfly on the furniture.
“Look!” Lucius said, placing his palms over the drawing as he started to whisper something. His nose started to bleed.
“Stop, stop!” Demian demanded, scared for his brother’s well-being. “I believe you!”
“You do?” Lucius lit up with life.
