I dream into being strings of pearls to grace the throats of ethereal dreams,
Visions gliding silently across mirrors, reflections of things peering from the depths.
The passage of time uncovers memories buried, things yearning to see light, to be themselves as they were first created.
They live in the realm of Shadow and Light, being reflections of balance and chaos, of Yin and Yang.
These are the words written in her journal, the spidery handwriting touching the paper lightly in places and etched deeply in others. Her presence in the rambling mansion on the edge of the unknown territories was for a purpose, to release her sleeping lover. Release not from sleep but from life itself, he was something that haunted the edge of nightmares and yearning. Forbidden knowledge was his domain, and the power to erase one’s humanity.
She’d hunted him for years, practising deception and prevarication, always with smouldering eyes and blood red lips. He couldn’t resist this vision of beauty and grace, vowing to woo her, to claim her as his regent. Her quarry had no chance once she spied him, for the ways of her Order had equipped her eminently for the task. She was a master of Shadow and Light, of standing between two worlds, poised forever on the edge of a precipice, an Assassin shrouded in mist.
The Assassin approached his sleeping form, a thing of exquisiteness and malevolence. No blood would be shed, only utter desolation and destruction meted out as promise and warning. His atoms would be taken apart, blessed with ancient and cryptic prayers, exorcised and scattered to the outer limits of the multiverses. A most terrible final act, but necessary to keep balance and chaos in polar opposite.
“Visions gliding silently across mirrors, reflections of things peering from the depths”
The words cascaded through her mind, a reminder of her purpose and mission. Silently she glided to his bed, touched his face like the caress of wind rustling through the forest. Spells were woven, words of passion dropped like poison pearls into his ear. She gave him dreams of longing and yearning, gave him what he desired, only for a brief moment showed him the glories of worlds beyond his reach. Pity played no part in this perfect drama, for that would be her undoing. Do monsters deserve pity? Agents of Shadow and Light were merciful creatures where the living and vulnerable were concerned. As for things lurking within nightmares and untrodden paths of the Soul, they faced a different fate.
“I dream into being strings of pearls to grace the throats of ethereal dreams”
She was dream weaver and soothsayer, a creature of many hues and stories. Multifaceted like an incomparable diamond born in the heart of fire, like an oyster shimmering the in the vast Ocean of Creation, gifting pearls of wisdom.
He opened his eyes, unseeing orbs of rubies. Her scent hung in the fetid air of his grave and sanctuary. It sank into his bones, wrapped his cold, dead heart like winged serpents bringing illumination to the dark places of this world.
“The passage of time uncovers memories buried, things yearning to see light, to be themselves as they were first created”
So it was, at a time when the worlds shifted, ushering in different states of being. Memories rose to the surface of waters unstirred for too long. He dreamed of life lived for too long, bearing no regret, feeling no shame for violence unfolded, and lust unchecked. Images fell like withered petals, scattered to the winds.
“They live in the realm of Shadow and Light, being reflections of balance and chaos, of Yin and Yang”
With those words her hand emerged out of nothingness and sealed his doom. It could not be undone.