Author’s Note: This is a continuation of Eve’s story from Among the Ruin and Ash so that I could slowly develop her world for a future novel. It was also inspired by this Reedsy short story contest prompt “Center your story around a character who can’t tell the difference between their dreams and reality”. So, if you would like to give it a like here that would be very much appreciated.
Read while listening for maximum immersion:
A swirl of darkness hung over her head as she lay against the cave walls, wispy clouds forming around the tips of her fingers. The way it danced around her hands was utterly mesmerizing, leaving her in a deep trance as she swayed through them, despite the fear that threatened to consume her whole. Melting into the void, Eve would have allowed it to be the end, so she could at last be free and become one with it, but a soft touch reached out to stop her.
She met kind eyes of a deep, dark green, though the softness within brightened them, stirring a feeling she could not quite place. He looked troubled, worried for her well being, and he grasped at her hand in desperation to lift her away from the darkness. Who was this man, and why was he trying to save her? Didn’t he know how worthless she really was? How used up? Beaten down? His earnest care made Eve believe, for the merest of moments, that perhaps she could escape from it all. From her Shadow, from the darkness, perhaps even from her past…
Allowing their hands to intertwine, he tried to take her away from the dreary clouds that called out her name in all of its dreadful, dissonant voices. Some said she was not worth the trouble of saving, while others insisted that he would only leave her behind in a matter of time. As the darkness curled around her vision, her body felt heavy as lead, and for all of the man’s greatest efforts—he failed.
Eve’s Shadow emerged from the void, suffocating her without remorse. She should have known better. That it would be no use. That it was impossible. And even if she could be saved, she did not deserve it. She knew that her fate had already been sealed from the very first holy inscription carved into her back. The scars she bore were a constant reminder of that very fact.
“Would it not be better to surrender? You are not fit for the breath of life…” her Shadow sneered as a thousand other voices only repeated its derisive cruelty.
Her eyes filled with tears, a painful lump coagulating in her throat begging to be released, though she would not allow it. This meek defiance made her feel a semblance of hope, that maybe one day, she might be able to fight back against it. But she knew it was meaningless.
“You must only endure a little while longer, you shall be well soon.”
She shall be well? Impossible. Why would it be? How might this last, pathetic Morrigan be well? Even the family grimoire deemed her unworthy, still blind to the truth in spite of being gifted with truesight. A single drop she could no longer hold back glided down her cheek as she surrendered to her Shadow’s embrace, wanting nothing more than the sickening sweetness of annihilation.
“Eve…Eve!”
Why was he still calling her name? Was it the man with kind eyes? How did he still not yet realize she was but a fool’s errand? A feeble excuse for life? Why would he not allow her to succumb to it and give up like so desperately craved?
Upon flickering her eyes open, she saw his face once more. She could not seem to remember his name, though his presence had been felt more deeply than she might readily admit. Has she always known this face of his? With its slightly rounded cheeks, thick brows, and those far, far too kind eyes?
And what was he so afraid of, rustling through those ripped pages and scrolls? Or…was he still only grasping at her hand? She could not tell. Both forms phased through each other and flashed in succession, disorienting her entirely when all she wanted was to fall into that tempting, dark slumber.
She shut her eyes to relieve the excruciating sting of exhaustion, until a trickle of pleasure ran across her skin at being touched by the man who cusped her cheek to wipe away the single tear. An insatiable desire to feel more of the sensation overtook her longing for the darkness, and ever so slowly, she tore herself away from her Shadow’s hold.
He pulled her away from its final clutches that she had already been escaping as she was overwhelmed by the magnetism drawing them together. The visceral euphoria flowed deeply from within, travelling its way up her arm and all throughout.
The man with kind eyes brought Eve close to his chest, holding her protectively in his arms as the dark clouds writhed in anger from losing their power over her. She let out a small gasp from the sudden gesture. His hold was strong, yet so very tender all the same. Though she could not bear to be seen as she truly was, she also could not bring herself to tear away. The enveloping warmth he carried was far too intoxicating, thawing away at the frozen wasteland of her body.
His touch alone should have frightened her, causing her to draw back from him, but for some strange reason—it did not.
She was frightened, however. Not by his touch, but by how much she yearned to be closer, to somehow melt together into his golden brown skin. But even that would not be enough.
He caressed her with that same tenderness, forming a burning heat between them with an affection she could not possibly fathom. Eve looked into those eyes, those long lashes, that single dark curl falling out of his tied up hair…
Why did this feel so right? So completely natural? This is what truly frightened her. Would he be able to see right through her like the brittle glass she was? Perhaps even farther than her developing truesight would allow? Eve opened her mouth to say something, to protest his affection, but when he held her chin parting her lips just so, every inclination drifted away.
Then, as though she were the air he so desperately needed, he kissed her, and together they fell into a passionate embrace. It was slow and deep at first, but by degrees, Eve returned his fervor in great measure. Her heart pulsed, suspended between nerves and desire as she relished the softness of his lips, savoring how much they had seemed to fit perfectly over her own like they were meant for no other place. Running his hands through her short, jagged hair, he travelled down the length of her back, eliciting a small whimper from the intensity of his touch.
She did not understand how the world outside of their crystallized sanctuary had at last been able to be shut out. What enchantment was it? Surely, it could not have been one that survived the Inquisition. It was far too powerful, like the ancient progenitors of every magickal lineage had cast it over them in that cave within a dying forest. Eve could hardly stop herself from giving into it as she felt for his chest and their tongues begged to become one.
The man with kind eyes pulled her into an even fiercer kiss, prompting her to lean into his lips with matching strength. Is this what it was to be desired? To be wanted? To be needed so desperately? In those titillating moments, she dared to believe that she too could perhaps be loved.
He stopped, piercing Eve with a sharp hunger for more as he traced down her neck, her shoulders, and then her arms, at last taking hold of both her hands.
“Come…” the man said, beginning to guide her out of the cave.
Tilting her head, she studied him carefully as though it had never occurred to her that she could simply leave. Was there really anything outside of this? And dare she believe it?
Eve heard the man speak yet again, but now his voice was coming from behind, faint and unembodied. Turning her head back, flashes of the man with kind eyes sat before no one, frantically bent over a grimoire and a scroll he had unraveled. What incantation was he uttering?
A stroke upon her head stirred up those same euphoric shivers, returning her gaze to the one who had offered her a way out—putting his warlock double out of her mind completely.
Following him outside the mouth of the cave, she witnessed the decaying forest revitalizing before her eyes. The gloom which had pervaded the site of destruction vanished at once, allowing the moon’s light to peek through the growing trees.
How long had it been since she had seen it this way? Eve remembered so little of that serene childhood that it seemed a faraway dream belonging to someone else. Was it not forever doomed to be cut down by holy fire?
Each step she took brought more and more life to its resurrected veins as velvet roses blossomed in perfect unity, drawing a smile on her face, mirroring the forest being brought back to life. She reached for the man’s hand, watching in newfound delight as a great oak tree sprouted glistening leaves of gold and a raven with its shining black feathers perched upon its hardy branches.
“I don’t understand, why is this not—” the last few words trailed off into obscurity, evaporating into the air. It was the man’s double again. Was he still in the cave, performing whatever ritual had been troubling him so much? And why spend his lifeforce on nothing? She could not understand it.
“Eve, look.” The man with kind eyes spoke, yet again drawing her attention away.
Her eyes widened in an instant as the majestic spires of Ravensong rose from the ashes to be once again erected in its prior glory. The ebony stones towered over them in defiance and majesty, emitting an iridescent glow far greater than her faint memory could have ever conjured.
He smiled, gesturing with his hands for Eve to cover her eyes. She did not question why, doing as he bade, listening for the sound of any clue that might reveal what awaited her. A quiet twinkling filled her ears as an orchestral tune faded into the atmosphere, silken chords from the piano rising like the luminous moon in the night sky. The song was strangely familiar. Has she heard this somewhere before? A joyous layer of excited murmurs resonated just underneath the music.
Where was she? Was she still in the lush forest?
“Now, you may open them,” he said in a gracious tone.
Unveiling her eyes, she found herself in the glimmering ballroom of Ravensong amid a dancing crowd of vibrant guests, each donning the colors of ancient houses, waning and waxing in spectral forms. The grand chandelier above them cradling amethyst crystals and silver ornaments cast a lustrous glow over the whole venue.
Eve felt that her head was suddenly heavier than before, causing her to sway about in a daze, until she looked down to see long, thick tresses of hair as they had once been. She ran her hands through them in amazement. It was no longer shorn off as a sign of her disobedience, a reminder that she was nothing but a vile heretic and a witch. Instead, her hair was half done up in the braided style she distinctly remembered her mother wearing.
Tears dripping prettily down her cheeks, she at once discovered that her tattered robes, muddied by grime and dirt, had been transformed into a purple gown of velvet sprinkled with silver stars. The man with kind eyes stood before her, radiant in emerald green and gold as he held out his hand for a dance. Eve took it without a second thought, dissolving together with him through the ethereal beauty of the music, her gown flowing like water amid the chamber.
They swirled along with the piano keys as the ballroom enfolded over itself—shifting, bleeding, and phasing into spectres. With each revolution, Eve wondered how time could pass by so wonderfully slow, despite the diaphanous flickering of her vision. Might she be allowed to stay here forever? She was unsure there was even a divine grace out there among the gods that would bestow such a gift.
Still, her past no longer mattered, for she was in the ever present Now dancing with the man who allowed her to believe that she might be worthy. Though she did not yet truly believe it, in those dazzling moments, such things did not pass through the chamber of her thoughts.
Just as Eve was sinking further into the dream, the whisperings of a strange spell penetrated through the air, shattering the only peace she had ever really known. All of its surrounding brilliance went out in a cruel breath, as though someone had blown out the light of a candelabra. Every vibrant guest began to darken and dim, the all too familiar void creeping its way back.
The man before her gradually morphed, his kind green eyes turning into the glaring violet of her dreaded Shadow. How could this have happened? Is this why she had not been able to use her truesight again? Because she was still nothing but an ignorant fool?
But then, if that was true, why could she not have remained inside the illusion, if only for a little while longer? Must it be ripped away from her so cruelly, so violently?
She stepped away in horror, her hair shrinking back into an unkempt mess, the walls of Ravensong crashing down at the hands of a great rumble beneath their feet.
“Did you truly think that salvation was awaiting you? You blind fool, I am the fate you deserve.”
“No…”
Why could she not have remained in the beautiful illusion? She knew it was a lie from the start, but still—she would have stayed there forever, dancing with a radiant man among the glittering lights as a lady of House Morrigan once more.
Her Shadow’s power only grew with her misery, expanding its reach to fill every part of the ballroom in ruins as its limbs coiled around her body.
The darkness seeped into her very pores as her skin decayed from underneath, dark, wispy clouds permeating with her very breath. Crawling up to her eyes, Eve’s vision began to blur, her Shadow’s voice ringing inside her mind like a great bell tower overlooking devastation, her mind whirled with its corruption.
No. It must not overpower her. Not like this.
A righteous anger flourished from the seat of her soul, as the void slowly bent to her will in a grim struggle. Could she learn to wield this, rather than being entirely consumed? It was more painful than she might ever imagine it to be as it tore her apart at the seams.
And yet…and yet…it was her own hands, blackened by its touch, performing the deed. Just as it was reaching its meridian, lacerating at her weak self, she awoke with a sharp gasp.
Eve was back inside the forest cave, heaving with an unsteady breath and shaking violently. Clutching at her head, she found that her hair had returned to its jagged state, along with her dirtied deep violet cloak. She turned to face Leander, who was watching over her and bent over his grimoire.
Reality mended in those short moments as she pieced together the truth. Her cursed sickness had come to a head and induced her into a feverous dream. Was he the one who brought her out of it?
As she began to regain a semblance of composure, Leander reached out to grab her shoulder.
“Are you well? I’m sorry that it did not take sooner. The healing ritual was being resisted. I cannot say why…it was difficult to break through.”
The feeling of his hand on her brought up the sensual memories of the already fading dream, prompting her to look away from his gaze in shame. “I…I am alright. Thank you,” she croaked out.
“Thank the gods. It must have worked in the end,” he said after releasing a deep sigh of relief he had been holding back for a long while.
Eve quickly glanced at him. She had never noticed until now, how kind those green eyes of his truly were. Why was Leander in her dream? Did his spellwork influence it in some way? Her grandfather would have told her not to fret, because a Morrigan’s dreams were never as they seemed, being much obscured by its cryptic meanings to be decipherable.
Still, her mind raced with every possible interpretation before she would inevitably forget the details. In truth, she almost did not want to remember it, for the pleasure and torment alike was far too painful. Why had she imagined Leander in such a way? What did the renewed forest, the Ravensong ballroom, and her struggle with the darkness all mean?
More than likely, it meant nothing. She could not have possibly hoped to overcome her Shadow. They both knew that it had never truly been sealed away, its overwhelming power was only lying dormant within her, waiting for any sign of faltering strength to devour her whole.
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If you enjoyed this dark romance story, check out some of my others ones:
Since, my pen name is Dblkrose (D, Black Rose) I am always drawn to anything with Rose in it. This one... lush, immersive romantasy with vivid gothic imagery and a strong emotional spine.
Coral, this was stunning. I was with Eve in every step of her anguish. When I got to "It must not overpower her. Not like this," I literally cheered, and then it was all a dream and her Shadow is still in her somewhere 😭. Every character you write, I get ridiculously invested in. This was gothic and gorgeous and I loved every second 💜