A Month of Midnights

For the duration of the time we were confined in the room, Rudy lay unconscious in my lap. His reaction must’ve been due to the longer exposure to the fungi than me. Avoiding contact with the floor, I kept my hands close to my chest and eventually dropped them on top of Rudy. My fingers ran through his clean, soft hair. I knew if I breathed anymore of the fungi, I’d pass out like him fairly soon. Fortunately, a servant did come around what I later discovered to be nightfall. It was the butler who freed us, and he looked far more relaxed now that Bluebeard was dead. Reluctant to go out into the forest when it was already dark, I agreed to the butler’s gracious offer to stay in the mansion one more night. Apparently, most of the other servants had already taken off to attend the celebrations up in northern Istoria. The butler welcomed us to any room in the castle, but the idea of being isolated in this house of terror sent shivers down my spine. I asked him where his room was, and the butler replied with, “The servants’ quarters.” I asked to be shown that way. I managed to awake Rudy long enough that, with my help, he could walk to the empty room next to the butler’s. He mumbled a weak goodnight to me as I set him down on the bed. I slept in the room across the hall from the butler and Rudy. Not caring about nightgowns or how I smelled, I collapsed down on the mattress and curled beneath the wool blankets, tucking them over my head.

I slept terribly. Visions of the haunting bodies dangling from the ceiling made me throw up more than once over the side of the bed. The rich foods combined with reoccuring dreams of gore had done no favors for my stomach. Feeling empty and frail, I began to quiver violently in my bed. It felt like the darkness itself was digesting me slowly and painfully.

“Don’t look so troubled, darling. Those guards weren’t even real. Simply magic. It is indeed a powerful thing, especially for people like us.”

Why couldn’t I shake what Maleficent had told me? All the evil she committed, all the evil I could commit, was it just magic? Was there never a time when there wasn’t an excuse for wrongdoing in this realm? It’s just magic, it’s in the script, it’s always something. I knew my father would’ve gone ballistic. He would’ve told me that there’s never an excuse for evil, especially when lives are taken in the name of it.

“Don’t expect him to understand, Blyss. He’s not a villain.”

I tossed more in my bed. Maleficent’s cruel smile still was fresh in my mind. Maleficent, Bluebeard, the Madmags, they all expected me to understand their ways somehow because I was a villain. Rudy was right. It doesn’t matter what they think. It doesn’t matter that magic has been bestowed inside me that’s supposed to make me evil. It only matters what I do with it now.

I forced my eyes to close and pep talked myself to sleep. Only, I was up again twenty minutes later after another dead wives nightmare. I knew I wouldn’t make it through the night alone with my imagination on the loose. I slipped out of my bed, taking my pillow with me like a scared little child, and tiptoed across the hall into Rudy’s room. Setting the pillow between him and me, I sneaked under the covers and let my head rest on the bare mattress. Under the pillow boundary, I found and clasped Rudy’s hand. It brought me great relief and warmth, and I finally fell into peaceful sombers.

I woke up late the next morning but found that Rudy was still snoring quietly, showing no evidence of waking up soon. His hand was firmly clasped on mine as it had been for several hours now. I think he noticed when I pulled mine away.

With help from the butler who was fortunately awake, a new bath was drawn for me, and he set out several new pairs of dresses similar to mine that weren’t stained with blood and mold. I quickly washed myself and my hair twice, trying to erase all layers of that morbid room. I picked out a dress identical to my green one, only this one was a deep purple. I grabbed a brown cloak, one that also had a pocket for Minnie, and set to brushing my hair. I returned to the servants’ quarters where the butler led me to their small dining room. A simple but appreciated breakfast was awaiting me. I noticed a second plate was across from me and realized the butler intended to join me. He sat down and began devouring his food.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “We’re grateful for your kindness.”

“It’s no problem, miss. I’m sorry you had to be here in the first place,” said the butler through a mouthful of eggs. I poked my fork awkwardly through the food. The butler abruptly asked, “Are you to be Maleficent, miss?” I looked up at him curiously.

“The horns gave it away, didn’t they?” I laughed sadly. The butler gave a reassuring smile.

“They’re not that bad. It’s just peculiar that’s all.”

“The horns?”

“No, your skin, miss.” I felt my face flush.

“Is it green already?” I asked putting my hand to my cheek. To my surprise, the butler shook his head.

“No, white as a cloud. Now, I’m no fairytale magic expert, but shouldn’t it be green this late into the Month?” the butler asked as he shoved a piece of ham into his mouth.

“Yes, you’re right. It-it should,” I said breathlessly. Maleficent said I still had to develop the horns and the skin. Horns? Check. Green skin? Nowhere to be seen.

“Well, it must be part of your glitch. I mean, isn’t that why you’re looking for the Writer anyways?” It seemed the butler knew a lot more than I had anticipated. Even common people in Istoria weren’t technically supposed to know about the Writer unless they were a Royal or they had gone looking for him themselves.

“There’s never been a glitch in my magic,” I answered still palming my face. I remembered the conversation I had with the Storyteller after she bestowed my magic. She guaranteed me I would have no glitch in my magic. Was she wrong? She was on the older side, but she seemed so sure of her abilities. If it truly wasn’t a glitch, then what was wrong with me?

“Huh. Well, I’ve never known of anyone who could subdue their own magic. Well, there was that one girl who kept her hair from turning brown, but that only lasted a day or so,” said the butler. I looked at him oddly.

“Subdue?” I asked. The butler looked up from his plate.

“Yes, there’s been a few cases over the centuries where people are powerful enough to keep their magic from fully developing. Usually it’s because they don’t like their Story, and they turn into nomads or whatever they’re called.”

“Madmags,” I answered.

“Yeah, that’s it! Instead of the magic controlling them-”

“They control it.”

No wonder the Madmags invited me to join them. They saw potential. They saw someone powerful. Did this mean I was actually suppressing my magic? It seemed so difficult in the beginning, but perhaps it just began to slip to the back of my mind. Come to think of it, my horns hadn’t shown much growth since I first discovered them, and the midnights since hadn’t really brought on any new changes. My desire to prevail over my own evil, whether I was aware of it or not, was so powerful, it was actually working in my favor. A new thought struck me almost immediately. What if I failed? What if I slipped just once? Just a snap at Rudy or at anyone, and I’d burst. The magic I was successfully bottling up would pop back open, and it would end in a disastrous mess. Surely it would feel like twenty midnights in one.

“Hm, well, I wouldn’t worry about it,” said the butler with his mouth full. “If you can’t get it fixed by the end of the Month, the Writer will detect something wrong. He might even pay you a personal visit during the Story just to fix you.”

“How do you know so much about magic?” I couldn’t help but ask. The butler shrugged.

“It’s a hobby. I like knowing the facts, the technicality, the history per say. Spent a lot of nights during Bluebeard’s Story reading old law books from the Writer that were published through the Council of Royals. Of course, I wouldn’t hear Bluebeard calling for me sometimes, and he’d throw the books in the fire as punishment.” The butler seemed truly resentful of his late master. At least I now understood why he was so terrified when Bluebeard called him. He didn’t want any more books to be burned.

“Sounds like you’d have been a very good Holder of the Histories,” I said with a smile. This lit up the butler’s face.

“Perhaps, I would’ve been,” he said thoughtfully. “What an amazing job that must be.”

“Say, have you ever been to Queen Golde’s palace near the border?” I asked. The butler shook his head, not understanding what I was trying to say. It seemed he hadn’t gotten the latest book announcing who the new Holder was. “You should see her now that your Story’s over. I think you two will much enjoy each other’s company.” The old man seemed skeptical of my recommendation.

“I suppose I could spare a visit. Will a Royal even allow me in?” he asked doubtfully. I thought for a moment.

“She won’t be a Royal at the end of the Month,” I pointed out. This seemed to appease the butler. We finished our breakfast in silence; there was plenty for both of us to mull over. The butler informed me there were two horses left in the stables as the surviving wife and maids took the rest for themselves. The butler’s original plan was to take both and sell one, but he was more than willing to give one to us. It didn’t look like Rudy was going to transform back any time soon anyways. As the butler rose to clean the dishes and do last minute tidying, I wandered out to the back patio.

It was a long, open limestone deck with a waist high railing lining the edge. Along the deck were chairs, small tables, and potted plants set up to impress visitors to the mansion. Off in the distance, hundreds of yards away, were the infamous ashen trees with black leaves and purple moss. It was no surprise to me that Bluebeard’s home would be situated next to the Forest of Temptations. Who wouldn’t be lured in by the luxuries and lavishness of the villain’s lifestyle? I strolled up to the railing and set my hands on the smooth stone balustrade.

I’d been avoiding it all morning. It’d have to be addressed at some point. It didn’t help that I didn’t even know what to feel. I was new to whole emotions thing, and now I had to deal with this? I can’t catch a break, I grumbled to myself. Was I supposed to love him back? I certainly cared for him, but I was far more preoccupied with finding the Writer. I didn’t even know what love really was. Mother and Father always seemed to love each other, but they were constantly arguing, usually over me. Surely, that couldn’t be love? On the other hand, saying I didn’t love him, now that didn’t seem quite right either. Undeniably, we had a bond. It was quite perplexing and yet another item added onto my list of growing worries.

It made sense that the idea of falling in love hadn’t really crossed my mind back in Chorio. Between my mother adamant on getting me to Istoria and my assumption that if I were to fall in love and marry, it would be to Dane, the topic of love was an awkward and avoided one. I watched Emalee flirted frivolously whenever I went to the town square on an errand. She had all the boys in the palm of her clean, dainty hands that hadn’t worked nearly as hard as the rest of ours. She always gave an extra devious look to me when she flirted with Dane. I did my best to shrug it off.

It all overwhelmed me. This new topic of love just reminded me that I had no idea what I was doing. I was new to everything, and yet I was still trying to accomplish the impossible. I slumped down and pressed my head against the rail. Eight days. We had eight days to find Minnie and Upright. We had eight days to figure out where to find the Writer. Eight days to travel there. Eight days to convince the Writer to fix everyone’s glitches, and hopefully, rewrite my Story without me in it.

I didn’t sob when I was down on my knees. Not a tear was shed. Rather, my eyes were closed and my breathing steadied. I said a prayer just for strength. I needed strength to keep my magic at bay, strength to carry on, strength to face whatever outcome I’d get. I pulled myself up and swung my leg over the rail. I became content sitting on top of the rail, my legs dangling down over the side. Though the Forest of Temptations did not make a very good view, I still found something that held my interest. It was the mountains that rose above. They were huge; their peaks so high they were shrouded in icy clouds. They reminded me of a thick wall, much like the ones around a fortress or castle, designed to be steep, intimidating, and impossible to penetrate. Were those the mountains Minnie had mentioned? She had seen a strange beacon of light come from the land on the other side of them. Was that land part of Istoria? It had to be, but what Stories were over there? Ms. Tennison had never mentioned anything like that in school. Maybe the Writer would know if we ever found him.

I heard the sound of the door close as Rudy walked out onto the patio. I counted his footsteps until they stopped just behind me. He hoisted himself over the rail and sat next to me. For a minute or two, we looked at the mountains together in silence. From the corner of my eye, I saw he was in new clothes, much like the ones he had before, just a bit simpler.

“You clean up and get some food?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. A gust of wind blew across the meadow, carrying the sounds of birds and insects. I had to move my hair away from my face.

“How bad did I screw up?” Rudy asked when the wind died down. I chose not to look at him.

“What do you mean?” I replied. He looked down at his hands.

“What did I say?” he asked. We both knew he meant back in the room.

“Um, well, you said why you were really jealous of Dane and then something about-”

“Love,” he finished for me. So he did remember.

“And then you passed out.”

“Sorry about that,” he reddened. I shrugged. For a few moments more, we continued looking at the mountains. Rudy began to say something, but I couldn’t stop myself from blurting my thoughts.

“Did you mean it?”

Without hesitating, Rudy answered, “Yes.” I winced inside. Part of me hoped it was just an effect of the fungi, but it wasn’t. He did love me. I put my face into my hands.

“Why?” I whispered. “We’re young. I don’t even know what love is.” Rudy actually chuckled.

“Well, what do you think it is?” he asked.

“I don’t know, deep affection?” I really didn’t want to have this conversation.

“Yeah, but there’s more to it. Or at least in my definition of it,” said Rudy. I looked at him curiously.

“Explain.” Rudy looked at me with an unreadable demeanor.

“Okay, um, it was when I was fourteen, you know, right when you start to develop new...feelings,” he said carefully. “I had been observing the other people in town, and I just began to assume love was giving someone flowers and sweets. So, of course, when I saw my parents argue over money and food, I figured they weren’t in love.” I watched Rudy as he spoke, but he didn’t return the glance. “One night in particular, my parents were just screaming at each other. Our whole garden was spoiled from a recent freeze, and my father’s wages had been lowered. My mother wanted him to work more hours, even into night when wild animals and cold temperatures were killing people regularly. My father wouldn’t have it. My mother was so furious with him, she slammed their bedroom door shut and shoved their bed up against it so he couldn’t come through.” He paused for a moment, and it was only then I realized I had been leaning in. I quickly sat back.

“For a while,” he continued, “my father and I stayed up late talking. Jamie was off doing who knows what. Twelve year olds are always a bit unpredictable. It was that night though, that my father talked to me about everything really. He explained to me about life in Istoria and how important it was to be chosen. That’s when he told me I was rumored to become a prince. He fueled my desire to be valiant and noble even more so that night. But that’s also when he told me there’d be one thing I would miss by going to Istoria.”

“Love,” I concluded. Rudy nodded.

“I didn’t really understand how he could see love as a thing to be missed. He and my mother, there was no way that could be love. At least that’s what I thought. And the whole flowers and sweets thing? I already decided I could live without that.”

“Then, what happened?” Rudy laughed.

“Jamie set the house on fire.” My mouth gaped open.

“Oh, that’s...romantic?”

“Let me explain,” Rudy chuckled. “When my mother had stormed into the bedroom, it was just after supper. The fireplace was still hot from the stew she made. While my father and I were talking, Jamie had been causing all sorts of mischief in the kitchen. He knocked a bunch of plates and cloths over, and by the time I was sent into the kitchen to see what he was doing, the fire had already caught. By the time my father got us both out, the fire had consumed half the house. You know how it is, cheaply made, flammable Chorio houses.”

“One of a kind,” I agreed sarcastically.

“I thought Mother would’ve been gone by then. It seemed to dangerous to go back and save her, but my father bounded in anyway without a second thought. Several minutes later, he came out badly burned and coughing, but he had my mother in his arms.”

“Wow,” I whispered. “That was very brave of him.” Rudy nodded in agreement.

“My mother sobbed in his arms for the longest time. All the anger from their argument was gone. It struck me right then and there. That’s what love must be. Flowers and sweets had nothing to do with it. Love...it’s when you’re willing to die for someone without a blink of an eye, no matter what’s happened in the past or what’ll happen in the future. It doesn’t even have to be romantic.” Rudy looked at me, waiting for a response. What do I say to a nineteen year old spouting philosophies on love? I thought frantically. It seemed Rudy understood my predicament.

“Blyss, what I’m trying to say is that when I tell you I love you-”

“It means you’d die for me.” He was still for a moment.

“Without question.” I breathed deeply.

“Well, by that definition, I love you too.” I wasn’t planning on saying it, but after I did, I felt something inside me reassure me this was right. Rudy smiled and looked back at the mountains.

After a long time of silence, Rudy finished with, “And maybe someday, if you’ll allow it, I’ll bring you flowers and sweets.” He smiled shyly.

“Well, if that’s the case, I like daisies,” I grinned. We spent another unnecessary half hour on the patio just looking at the scenery, balancing on the rail, and enjoying the fresh air. We didn’t speak much, but that was the best part. No words were even needed. I forgot where I was or the circumstances I was in. It felt like I was back in Chorio with nothing to worry about.

The butler came from the stables to the patio and informed us everything was ready to go. He led us to the two horses that were packed with bags of food and supplies and tools. He mounted a grey horse while we were given a sleek mahogany one with a mane as black as my hair.

“That’s Avon you’ll be riding,” the butler informed us.

It was almost humorous to watch Rudy mount the horse after me. It was clear he was uncomfortable being on top of a horse after being one for so long. Rudy let me control the reins although I had an inkling he was probably the better rider. I felt him tap my leg.

“Scoot up, move your knees. It feels better on their back,” he whispered, clearly speaking from experience. Trusting his advice, I did so, and I almost instantly could sense relief in the horse’s back. We followed the butler back down the main path to a new trail that cut effortlessly through the forest. Early afternoon we reached a nearby village. Though there were only a few structures built near each other, dozens of people were out and about. Some were passing through, and others were obviously there for the celebrations. Streamers were hung from building to building, and festive lanterns were already being hung. People were setting out tables and laying large trays of food on them. As travelers came into the village, many decided to stop for the night to take part in the festivities. The butler told us this village was just now beginning to celebrate this late into the Month because Bluebeard’s Story had finally ended. We followed the butler to behind one home where it wasn’t quite so loud.

“This is where we’ll part ways,” said the butler from atop his horse. “I bid you good luck finding the Writer.”

“Thank you, sir, for helping us,” I said earnestly. The butler nodded timidly. “Where will you go after this?”

“I think I might go find Queen Golde before her throne is abdicated,” he said eagerly. It seemed he had decided to trust my recommendation.

“Safe journeys,” I said. Rudy then thanked him, and just like that, the butler was already lost in the trees again.

“Now what?” Rudy asked. I sighed.

“I have no idea,” I said. I had been dreading the moment when I had to face the fact that I had no plan.

“Stop touching me, you putrid little rodent!” I felt Rudy stiffen behind me. He hated that voice.

“I don’t think Sleeping Beauty would like it much if her prince was missing a leg or an arm,” a familiar voice threatened.

“Is that..” Rudy’s voice trailed off in my ear.

“Upright!” I exclaimed, guiding the horse forward around the side of the house. As I had hoped, Upright was there holding the free end of the rope that was tied around Dane’s wrists. Hovering just above Upright’s stocking cap was a very frazzled Minnie whose face lifted at the sight of us.

“Blyss!” she squealed as she darted to my cheek and hugged it gratefully. She fluttered away and looked at the new horse. “Wha-what happened to Rudy?” She noticed the boy behind me. “And who’s that?”

“Well,” I said slowly, “this is Avon.” I patted the horse. “And, this is-”

“Isn’t that the boy from the lake?” Upright interrupted. It took me a moment to realize he meant Sirens’ Lake.

“Rudy!” Minnie shrieked. She gave him a similar face hug. Upright looked at me suspiciously.

“What is this?” he growled. I smiled sheepishly.

“He transformed back, for real this time,” I explained. Upright scowled at Rudy.

“Are you sure it’s actually actually him?” I looked back at Rudy who was being poked at and eagerly observed by Minnie.

“Yeah, it’s him,” I said turning back to Upright. I noticed Dane for the first time and was shocked to see how fast a few nights in Istoria had changed him. His hair had shining streaks in it, and his lips were pink and full. He looked even more like a classic prince, pretty and handsome. Only now, he seemed far less attractive.

“Great, the goat’s back with her adorable little horns,” Dane smirked. Upright jabbed the handle of the Sword of Spoken Truth into Dane’s thigh.

“Do you want the gag back on?” Upright snarled. Dane took a few steps back in fear of the dwarf. I could only imagine how tense it had been between them for the past two days.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

“We were looking for food,” Upright answered. “Minnie needed a break.” Finally leaving Rudy alone, Minnie fluttered up in front of me.

“Where were you all this time?” she asked.

“We ran into some trouble,” I answered with intentional vagueness.

“And a few dead bodies,” Rudy interjected. Minnie and Upright looked to me for an explanation.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” I said. “Any progress with how to find the Writer?” Upright sighed.

“Absolutely nothing,” he grumbled.

“All we could figure out was that both items were probably needed for a reenactment of some sort,” Minnie added. “But that doesn’t really help us.” I shivered underneath my cloak. A reenactment. If anything was to be reenacted, it would likely be the climax of the Story. In other words, the part where I die.

“Have you tried giving him the sword?” Rudy asked abruptly. Upright looked at him with disgust.

“Give pretty boy the sword? That’s just asking for blood,” Upright argued. Rudy dismounted Avon and approached Upright.

“The sword glows. Maybe he does too,” Rudy said casting an icy glare to Dane. Upright snorted.

“You know what? If you think it’ll work, you give him the sword. It’s your own funeral,” he said shoving the sword into Rudy’s hands. I hopped off the horse quickly.

“Rudy, don’t do it. Just give us a second to think this through,” I asked him. I saw the hidden look in Dane’s eyes. No doubt he was planning something.

“If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, no harm no foul,” Rudy shrugged. I saw a smug grin grow on Dane’s lips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I warned. Rudy looked back at Dane.

“What? To scared to give me the sword now?” Dane taunted. Rudy’s jaw locked.

“Don’t do it,” I ordered sharply. Rudy clenched the sword but finally resisted the temptation. As he turned to give the sword back to Upright, Dane lunged for Rudy. As I figured he probably could, Dane snapped the rope clean from Upright’s hands. Though his own hands were still bound, Dane managed to shove Rudy to the ground and snatch the sword. He swung it towards all of us.

“Don’t even try,” he hissed. A strange blue light that seemed to be under his skin slowly crept up Dane’s neck. Before it could travel any farther, Rudy pushed himself up and tackled Dane into the side of the building. In the chaos, the sword dropped to the ground, but before Upright could sneak in and grab it, Dane managed to pick it back up. He slashed Rudy’s shoulder, leaving a tear in his shirt that soon began to soak in blood. Again I saw the blue glow in Dane’s skin crawl up his neck and illuminate his hands and arms. Upright and Minnie looked at Dane and then at me. They saw it too.

Rudy lunged once more for Dane, but this time I tackled Rudy first, forcing him to stay on the ground. “Blyss, what are you doing? He’s gonna kill you!” Rudy cried as he tried to fight me off.

“No! Stop moving! Just look! Rudy, look!” I commanded, forcing him still. Rudy finally listened and saw what the rest of us already had noticed.

Dane was frozen completely still as if something inside him kept him paralyzed. The blue glow had now enveloped most of his body. Even his pupils had completely vanished, leaving his eyes pure white with an unearthly blue tint. The Sword of Spoken Truth, still firmly clasped in his hands, shined its similar blue glow.

“It worked?” Rudy asked in shock. The now oddly glowing Dane turned his head to face me. Though his eyes were fixed towards me, it seemed he could not see a thing. He spoke only one word.

“Follow.”