Very Soft Things

“I’ll miss you.”

Asra places a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own for a few days? I can take you to Muriel’s if you-“

He trails off as you chuckle and hold up a hand.

“I’ll be okay. Besides, someone has to finish packing this place up while you’re gone.”

Both of you glance around the half-empty shop. You catch a glimpse of wistfulness on his face, a nostalgia about the place that you don’t share. It won’t be long before it becomes just one of the blur of memories that make up Vesuvia in your head.

“Don’t tire yourself out.” He says with a smile,

“We’ll have time once I get back.”

“I know.” You reply, wanting to add ‘you worry too much’ but knowing how right he is to worry. Your body is weak. You have no one in town you can rely on. What if you can’t make it back from market before sunset? One of the creatures that have taken to roaming the streets at night could easily get you. And what if someone catches you without your hood and gloves on? Another bout of city-wide panic. You’d probably be burned at the stake.

“Here, take this…”

Asra pulls his tarot deck from seemingly nowhere and holds it out. You hesitate, feeling a phantom of the strange electricity that flows through your arm every time you touch the cards.

“I know you don’t like them much, but I get the feeling you’ll find a good use for them while I’m away.” He smiles as you carefully accept them into your palm, trying not to visibly shudder.

“Will you give me a reading before I go? It’s been awhile since we’ve practiced.”

You sigh audibly and the look on your face must be one of trepidation because Asra laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“We don’t have to.”

“No no, you’re right… it has been awhile.”

He follows behind you as you shuffle into the reading room, resting your cane against the table as you sink heavily onto one of the plush stools. Asra sits across from you, and Faust joins the party, slithering up his arm from under the table. As your hand hovers over the deck you just hope you don’t pull The Fool. That card in particular has always given you an uneasy feeling.

You draw three of the thick, well worn cards and place them face down on the table between you. You take a moment to breathe before carefully flipping the first one. The voices of the cards whisper in your head.

“The moon… your intuition is correct, despite the anxiety following it may give you.

“The Emperor, reversed… something… Inflexible stands in your way. It’s a dominating, capricious force that will be difficult to conquer.

“The…”

You swallow hard; you can already tell what the third card is before you turn it over. You hear it’s whispery voice like a cold mist clinging to the cobblestone in the early morning.

“The fool. Insecurity will not be your friend. You must take the leap to fulfill your goals.”

You sit back and take in Asra’s pensive expression. He stares at the three cards a moment longer before nodding and looking back up at you.

“You did well. Thank you for humoring me.”

You want to ask what this combination means to him, but he’s already standing and guiding Faust off of his arm and across the table to you.

“I should get going- it’s getting late.”

“You’re leaving her here?” You ask, reaching your hand out to give her a welcomed scratch on the chin.

“Well, I figure she can help you reach the high shelves, maybe even man the counter if you need a nap!”

You both manage a soft laugh as Faust slithers up your arm and perches across your shoulders.

“Help!” You hear her voice softly in your head as she proudly poses.

“Well, I can’t say no to that.”

Asra slings his pack over his shoulder and leans down to place another kiss on your forehead (and then Faust’s) before straightening and turning toward the door.

“I won’t be gone long, remember not to push yourself too hard.”

“Stay safe.” You reply, exchanging one more lasting glance before he disappears into the late afternoon sun.

You shuffle the cards and slide them to the center of the table. You sit and stare at them for a moment before finally rising from your seat and going about closing the shop. The door’s lantern is doused, windows and doors locked, and protection signals checked and refreshed.

A tall, dark shape slides past the colored glass tiles of the last window you have to check as the last of the sun disappears to the west. You shudder. Strange creatures have taken over the night in Vesuvia. Ghostly foxes leading children and drunks over rickety bridges and into flooded and crumbling buildings. The beaked plague doctors who tended to the ill during the red plague, now transformed into tall shadowy beasts who drag stragglers through darkened doorways, never to be seen again. Activity always seemed to pick up as the Count’s annual birthday masquerade approached, and this year was no exception. A new being had even reportedly joined their ranks this year, a tall, veiled woman whose face drove those who saw it to rambling madness.

You finish drawing the curtains and turn back toward the shop’s many shelves, letting Faust slide off your arm onto one of her preferred resting spots before taking a seat at the counter to continue your work on the little perfumed and charmed sachets that were so popular around masquerade time- one of the last things you were keeping stocked on your shelves pending your upcoming move away from Vesuvia.

You finish just a few of the colorful little packets in the flickering candlelight before Faust’s voice alerts you to something out of place.

“Stranger!”

You straighten and glance around. You hear nothing, but all the shadows seem to dance in your tired red eyes.

“Strange hours for a shop to keep.” Teases a baritone voice, seemingly from everywhere at once. You stand shakily, looking from the door to the curtained stairs for the source of the voice.

“Behind you.”

You turn with a gasp and catch sight of a tall, beaked figure looming in the back doorway. Your heart drops into your stomach.

You feel for your cane beside you and knock it to the ground in the process. The dark creatures advances slowly, and in your terror you almost don’t hear his words.

“Now, Sources say this is the witch’s lair, so who-“

You bolt, scrambling for the stairs before he can finish.

“Up up up! Not so fast!”

He launches toward you, catching you by the arm before you can even climb the first step. You let out a strangled yelp of surprise.

“I just want to kn-“

You fumble for something, anything. Despite your illness, your fatigue and your fear, you can’t help but try to fight back. Your hand finds an empty bottle on the shelf next to the stairs and you twist in the creature’s grasp, smashing the glass against its head. The bird-like mask goes askew as he lets out a squawk of surprise and loosens his grip- a chance to escape!

Wrenching your arm away, you try once again to mount the stairs but quickly find yourself being pulled back by a strong arm around your waist. This is it. Asra is going to come home in a few days time to find nothing but a puddle of blood and a few shards of bone in your place. You find yourself unceremoniously dumped against the wall, a long black arm planted on either side of your shoulders to prevent any more escape attempts.

“Slippery one, aren’t you?” He sneers.

You sink back into the wall in fear, eyes darting between the two glassy red disks that stare down at you like eternally burning embers. Your legs are barely keeping you up at this point.

“Now-“ he begins again, then pauses, drawing back slightly.

“Oh… oh my… it can’t be…”

He takes a step back, removing his hands from the wall behind you.

“I heard about the creatures, but don’t tell me… the plague has returned?” There’s a startled urgency to his voice. You remain frozen in your spot.

“When did people start falling ill? How long have you been sick?”

He descends upon you again, but instead of ripping you into viscera he presses two gloved fingers to the underside of your wrist, using his other hand to gently turn your head this way and that, inspecting the vibrant veins in your face and neck.

“W….what…?” You manage, reeling from the sudden change in attitude.

“How long have you been sick?” He repeats.

“I… three years.”

“Three-“ he cuts himself off, looking away as if to do some kind of calculation in his head.

“How many others are sick? Is it still spreading?”

“I- no. No one. It’s just me.”

He’s silent for a moment.

“Fascinating.” He mumbles under his breath, then gives an apologetic sort of shrug and pulls you away from the wall to return you to your seat at the counter.

The looming black-clad man sinks to one knee before you and starts another line of questioning, but you must look as shocked as you feel because he stops again, fists closing and opening again in the air before you like he means to appease you.

“I- okay, please don’t be frightened now…”

He reaches for the clasp on his mask and you shut your eyes, bracing yourself against the chair for an onslaught of horrible gnashing teeth, or maybe just an endless void that will suck your soul from your bones—

You hesitantly open one eye, then the other.

It’s just a man. A pale, angular man with reddish hair and an eyepatch. Blood trickles from a gash in his forehead where your bottle found its mark. He looks almost as surprised as you.

“You’re…” you begin, slowly.

“Yes, I know.” He replies gravely.

“But you need not worry, for despite my reputation I intend you no harm.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment. You have no idea who he is.

You relay this to him and he fumbles, grimacing as his face turns bright red.

“Well I’m… You don’t know of Doctor Devorak?”

Ah. You’ve heard the name. The mad doctor who supposedly cured the plague and then disappeared. Some were convinced he was responsible for the creatures that had taken over the night. It didn’t seem too far-fetched to you until now, seeing him kneeling before you twiddling his fingers and staring bashfully at the floor like a schoolboy caught passing notes.

“Oh. Yes.”

There’s a pause between the two of you, then your relief at not being murdered turns to anger.

“Why in the world would you dress like that to go breaking into people’s shops?”

He sputters, his face turning an even deeper red as he tries to form several different sentences at once.

“Well- I- that’s… hardly relevant now! Is- Is there no one here to care for you? Wait- first, I’m looking for a witch called Asra! He lives here- with you, is that right?”

You pause, unsure if you should trust him with any more information, when you see a ribbon of white peek over the Doctor’s shoulder, give you a mischievous look, and wrap around the man’s neck.

“Squeeze a slippery boy!”

“Ghck-! Not again!” The Doctor croaks and falls back on his behind as he grasps at his neck, trying to slip his fingers under Faust’s coiling body.

“She knows you…” You mumble, watching him struggle with the snake with somewhat relieved amusement.

“You won’t tell anyone about me, will you?” You ask after a pause,

“No! Never! Now call off the serpent!” He wheezes.

His face is starting to look a little purple. Faust finishes with her… rather unorthodox greeting and starts to slide down to the floor once again with a mischievous chuckle.

“Hoo- Oh my neck…”

He slumps forward as he catches his breath, holding up a hand as if to plead for a moment’s break in the conversation.

“No… I will not breathe a word of your condition. You see, I know the danger it puts you in.” His tone is serious again and he straightens, giving you a meaningful look as he reaches for his eyepatch.

You draw in a sharp breath as his piercing gray eye stares you down from within a bright red sclera. You’ve never seen anyone else left with these scars from the plague. It seems no one else survived to bear them.

“You…”

“Yes, I too contracted the red plague. Though I confess I cannot remember how I was healed… And you! I’ve never met another who’s survived- well, excluding the Count, of course.” He says the last statement bitterly, clearly a person he’d rather not spend time thinking of.

He turns his attention back to you, peppering you with questions about how you became ill, how you were healed, your lasting symptoms, and the like. You shake your head in response, slumping back in the chair. You can feel the last of your energy slowly sapping out of you.

“I don’t remember anything past three years ago… How I got it, how I was healed… if I was ever healed…” You close your eyes and sigh.

“Asra said he hoped my memories would return with time, but it’s like there’s just nothing there. And my body… it’s hardly gotten any stronger since then. I don’t know why I don’t seem to be spreading it or why I’m not getting better… or worse.”

You feel Faust slither up your leg curl up in your lap, her tongue flicking lightly at your fingertips, pulling you back from your thoughts to the present.

“Where has Asra gone?” Dr Devorak asks.

You open your eyes again to find him staring thoughtfully into your face.

“Why did he leave you here alone?”

You sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Nopal. We’re leaving Vesuvia in about a month. He’s gone for a few days to make preparations.”

“Why leave the city?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You retort, eyeing him curiously.

“People say you were the one who cured the plague. Why disappear after that?”

Julian furrows his brow, steepling his fingers as he stares into the distance pensively.

“I… I don’t think I was the one who cured the plague.” He pauses, trying hard to remember something.

“Strange things started happening around the palace, the Count was… suddenly healed. I remember meetings with the courtiers… they wanted something from me, but I…”

His solemn rambling is suddenly interrupted by a sharp knock on the shop’s front door. Both of you startle. He jumps to his feet, his long legs carrying him over in just a few strides.

“Don’t answer it!” You hiss angrily. You’re sure your heart is going to give out from all the excitement happening tonight.

“I’m just going to see who it is…” he reassures you with a stage whisper, replacing his eyepatch and creeping up to the tiny window at the door’s center.

You see him squinting out into the dark, flinching as another set of knocks rattle the door.

“It’s a…fancy looking lady.” He whispers to you. You shrug, incredulous. No one goes out at night any more. Even if this ‘lady’ is human, no good could possibly come of letting her in.

“Wait, it’s… it can’t be, is that the Countess?”

“I know you’re in there,” She calls through the door.

“I can hear you.”

Julian covers his mouth with a gloved hand and slinks away from the door. He glances your way again as if waiting for instructions. You shake your head, letting it fall forward into your hands. You can feel a headache taking over.

“Who is it?”

You hear Julian call in a falsetto. What in the world is he doing?

There’s a pause from the other side of the door as if the woman is thinking the same thing.

“Ah, I am… ahem, I am looking for the magician named Vee.”

“Come back in the morning please, we’re closed!”

“Please forgive me for the hour, but I cannot bear to suffer another sleepless night!”

“That’s definitely the countess!” Julian hisses,

“I think we should let her in,”

Your head snaps up. When did this become “we?” You want to ask, when you notice his hand is nearing the door knob. You shake your head vigorously as you fumble for a grip on the chair’s arms. For the second time tonight you fear for your life.

“Magician?” The woman calls,

“I am afraid it cannot wait. I shan’t leave until you let me in.”

Countess or not, is she insane? Does she not know about the creatures?

Finally having pushed yourself up, you use your cane to help steady your shaking legs as you hurry to the stairs and pull down the thick cloak that hangs just inside the door frame.

“I-Please,” she continues,

“I think there’s something out here with me-“

There seems to be no stopping Julian now as he gives you an apologetic look and turns the lock as you hurriedly pull the long hood down over your face. As if the opening of the door produced a strong wind, you collapse back onto the stair with a ragged huff- you’re not sure you’ll be able to move from this spot again tonight.

The woman who rushes through the door is truly a vision of beauty. She is dressed in fine silks dyed in a rainbow of soft pastels. As her manicured and bejeweled hands reach up to pull the scarf from atop her head, she reveals a cascade of shiny, red hair that fades into a deep violet. Perhaps the only flaw you can see from under your hood is the dark circles rimming her eyes. Seeing them, you don’t doubt her claim of sleepless nights any longer. Her serious ruby eyes fall on you and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Did you come here alone?”

Julian interrupts incredulously as he locks the door again. She spins around in surprise at his voice.

“Well, yes. I could not…”

She falls into silence for a moment and you realize she must be giving him quite the hard look judging by how red his face is getting.

“Julian Devorak? What on earth are you doing here?”

He gives a sweeping bow after a moment of awkward silence.

“Countess, it’s a pleasure as always.”

The pair erupt into a back and forth that you can hardly follow. They seem to know each other well, despite the tension in each of their tones. You start to think- hope, even, that they’ve both forgotten about you when the Countess turns on her heel again and returns her piercing eyes to you.

“Well, that discussion can wait for another time. I should hate to take up any more of the magician’s time.”

“W… what brings you here tonight, Countess?” You murmur, shrinking under her gaze.

“I have been having dreams over the past several months. Troubling dreams.”

Her voice is calm even as the emotion in her eyes betrays her. She begins to cross the room toward you with slow, measured steps, as if approaching an animal.

“I hope you can provide me some clarity with your cards.”

You internally groan. The cards? How many times are you going to be asked to use them in one night? You wish Asra had just taken them with him.

“I… I think you’ve mistaken me for Asra…” you reply hesitantly.

“I’m no master of the cards, I…”

Nadia gracefully sinks to the ground, kneeling before you. Your breath catches in your throat.

“No, it must be you.” She says softly, a slight smile gracing her lips.

“I’ve seen you before, in my dreams. In this very shop, reading my fortune with your cards. Although, I will admit I do not remember Dr. Devorak being here.”

Julian clears his throat awkwardly from the corner.

“Ah, well, yes. This evening is going strangely for all of us, I’m sure.”

“Certainly.” She says in response, though her eyes never leave you.

“What say you, Magician? Will you grant my wish?”

She extends a graceful hand to you. You want very much to take it, but you aren’t wearing your gloves. Her perfect composure would certainly drop the moment she saw your red-stained fingers. You’re not sure you can bear to see her beautiful face contorted in horror right now.

“It’s alright.” You hear her say quietly, startling you out of your thoughts.

“I know.”

“Y-you… know…?” You feel your breath catching in your throat.

“I saw you in my dreams, remember?”

Her smile is genuine, but it still takes you a moment to decide if you want to trust her or not. You spare a glance to Dr. Devorak, but he seems to be watching the whole scene with a surprising amount of reservedness.

You swallow hard. Well, this night couldn’t get any weirder, you might as well see if the Countess is true to her word. You extend a shaking hand from under your cloak and slowly extend it toward hers. Her skin is smooth and cool like marble. You let out a long breath as she runs her thumb along the back of your hand reassuringly. Her smile never falters for a second, and suddenly you feel like you could cry.

Asra is the only person who hasn’t recoiled at the sight or touch of you since… well, since the beginning of your memory. Once, before you had really gotten a handle of your surroundings again you had wandered out into the alley behind the shop and down to the quiet cross-street at the corner. You were so enamored by the strange feeling of cold cobblestones on your bare feet that you didn’t notice the approaching couple until the man screamed. The woman joined in as you looked up at them, and you could hear their panic spreading as they ran down the adjoining street. Asra snuck you out of the city limits to Muriel’s tiny home in the forest shortly after. He was a hard person to get a read on. He didn’t seem afraid of you the way the people in town were, but he did do his best to pretend you weren’t there. Even Dr. Devorak, in the short time you had known him this evening, recoiled when he first saw your red veins. But Countess Nadia took your hand without any hesitation. If she was afraid, or disgusted, she was a master at hiding it.

She stands slowly, pulling you up with her. She’s surprisingly strong. You manage to push yourself up with the help of her and your cane, but you can already feel your knees wobbling as you look up into her face.

“Countess, I…”

“Please, do call me Nadia.”

“Um. N-Nadia, I… I don’t think I can do this reading for you tonight…”

She gives you a patient, encouraging smile.

“Of course you can. I would not have sought you out if I did not believe in your talent with the cards.”

“N-no it’s that, I….”

The room is already spinning around you. You grip her hand tightly in a final attempt to steady yourself but you have no strength left. The last thing you hear as you crumple into the darkness is a chorus of Nadia and Julian’s voices intermingling-

“Ah- Oh! Don’t let them fall-!”

“Oh my! Magician?”