Timothy

Plume was good to his word. I was almost asleep when I heard a tap on the window.

I lifted a pillow over my head and turned my back to the glass and the knocking raven.

It, of course, kept knocking on the glass until I gave up and pushed myself to a sitting position.

"I have a lecture at ten." I told the bird.

It tilted its head and gave one final knock with its beak.

"Fine. I'll come to the balcony."

I left behind the cosy, lovely bed and went to my parents' room. Behind the balcony door stood a small, lean man with black hair and crimson eyes. I opened the door but stayed inside.

We looked at each other over the threshold. Plume seemed to still be exactly the vampire I remembered with his short jet black hair always worn in a casually tousled style, his collared shirt light blue tonight. Plume had a disliking to shoes but right then he wore a pair of surprisingly feminine wooden high heels that reminded me of something I couldn't quite put my finger on. They gave him just enough extra height that we came even.

After a while, Plume spoke: "If you want your internet connection and mobile data back, you could invite me in. It might help." He smiled. I could feel the change in the air as he applied a bit of supernatural pressure to his tone, meant to persuade a human.

I looked past the vampire, breaking eye contact and lessening the weight of his intended mind manipulation. In a corner of the balcony rested a backpack and a guitar.

"I am fine. Thank you. But in my magnanimity, I am willing to take in the guitar, out of the rain."

I extended a hand, but not over the threshold.

Plume heaved out an exasperated snort. "Don't be difficult. I know we never came along that well, but I would say the circumstances are quite changed."

"Yes? Really? And how does my being a human make the circumstances different, exactly?" A smile was playing on my lips this time. "Excepting the fact that you can't just walk into my home, that is."

The vampire's brow furrowed.

"For starters, it means you have made a mess. Blizzard asked me to come and keep you company until he can reach the Queen, who is right now in Hong Kong for an international conference, of all the weeks. There are things you don't know. And we aren't sure if you should be enlightened or not. You are Mo's son, my idiotic uncle. But also a human. What the hell are we supposed to do with that exactly? How did this even happen?"

He crossed his arms angrily.

"And if you can't get it through that amazingly thick head of yours," he continued, "Blizzard is absolutely out of his mind, worrying for your sorry, selfish ass. He was promised a full eternity of nights with you. And now you, the human you, have gone and poked your nose into a very vampiric business. So. I can well sleep on the balcony tonight and the next week, no biggie. But it would be polite to let me in and maybe even offer morning tea or something for my more than generous trouble."

Not the speech I had expected. I wasn't sure what I had expected. Maybe for Plume to make fun of my fragile mortality or lack of taste. But not this kind of very human telling off.

It humbled me momentarily.

"Please. Come in, Plume. You are, of course, welcomed in my home."

"Thank you." There was no warmth to his voice as he picked up the guitar and the backpack and came to stand with me in the now crowded bedroom. I noted the backpack had an air of having cost more than my laptop.

"You live alone?" he asked, glancing meaningfully to the double bed.

"For now. Yes."

"So, I can have this?" He confirmed.

At my nod, he flung the baggage on the bed.

I looked at the small pile. I knew next to nothing of Plume. He was Blizzard's apprentice. And he didn't take links. And when we had met a few times in the past, he had become aware that I disapproved of that. He had probably felt that I disapproved of many things. Not all about him.

He had also accidentally been the sole witness to something very private towards the end of my vampiric existence. Which made our relationship not at all easier now. Even though I wondered if the encounter had left any impression on him.

"Go back to sleep," he said, sitting on the bed. He had left his shoes on the side. And obviously intended to lay on his back. "I guarantee we have time to talk. And I hear you have a lecture at ten."

I watched as he took a small brass box out the front pocket of the backpack. He opened it, lifted a small tablet to inspect it in the light so I could clearly see it. The pill reflected dark metallic rainbow colors and didn't look exactly edible. More a small bullet than anything. He put it in his mouth nevertheless and offered the box for my inspection.

I had to catch it with both hands. Though it fit well on my palm, it was heavy.

"What are they?" I asked.

He smiled wickedly. "Many use them. I am sure you have tried. Just a diluted version that mixes well with tea."

I didn't know immediately what he meant. Then it hit me. He was right. Mo had once or twice mixed one little ball into a pot of sweet tea, meant to be shared with a dozen vampires. Dozen. To enjoy the sunrise together.

It was an interesting little trick that helped a vampire stay awake as the day lightened. But the next night you felt wretched, heavy. I couldn't guess why Plume had just swallowed one whole.

Unless...

I wasn't exactly sure what the pills did. It was possible that if a small amount let you stay awake for a while longer, then maybe a full dosage allowed a vampire to stay up for the whole day. Maybe.

I opened my mouth to ask Plume, but got my answer just looking at him.

Plume had laid his back against the covers. His eyes were closed and his chest was frozen still. He was asleep, in the middle of the night. Very unvampiric behaviour.

I closed the small box and laid it on the shelf behind my back.

I sat for a long while on his bed, just looking at the sleeping man. Plume, as any vampire, looked angelic asleep. Calm. All sharp comments and hard lines were smoothed to a mask of deadly calm.

Against my better judgement, I felt drawn to that calm. I felt it deep inside, like a tide turning. And couldn't help but wonder if Blizzard had after all succeeded in linking my will to his, as I felt an instinctual liking toward this creature occupying my parents' bed.

Though it hadn't been theirs for such a long while.

And now Mo was going to buy the house.

I wondered if Blizzard knew about that.

I wondered if Mo didn't already know about all of my misadventures. There was really no guarantee that Hellebore hadn't told the Queen all of it that very night when I had been changed.

I heaved out a sigh that turned into a yawn.

I reached my hand out for Plume's guitar, to move it to the third room upstairs so it wouldn't need to occupy his bed.

A cool hand gripped my upper arm into an iron hold.

I gave out a startled cry.

The vampire's eyes were open. He had come sitting quicker than any mortal sense could follow. And had a steady unmovable hold of my arm.

I stared into the ruby eyes. The lids hung low and his features were still relaxed.

I swallowed.

I took calming breath. This had never happened to me before. But I knew of it. An unconscious vampire was maybe even deadlier than one awake. They reacted to anything threatening, including thoughts. Apparently the guitar was dear to him.

"I get it," I told the unconscious monster. "I won't touch it."

As I said it, I gave up completely on the idea of laying hands on any of his possessions.

Plume's red gaze closed.

He released my arm.

"Sleep well, see you in the morning," I muttered as the vampire lay slowly back onto the bed.

Only once I was back in my own room, did I realize that my phone was still without reception. I picked up the useless, shattered, black box. No music for me tonight, no social media, or any other type of media for that matter.

And I didn't feel like falling peacefully to sleep. I sat in my pyjamas at the edge of a narrow bed and felt ridiculous. A part of me silently wished I had still been a vampire, that I could have taken Plume by the collar and asked what he thought he was doing in my house. I wanted to demand answers out of Blizzard. Maybe seek comfort and calm from Mo herself.

But most importantly I wanted to slip into the night and leave behind this complex, uncertain situation.

I opened the window ajar, so some of the rainy fresh air came gusting to greet me. I could still feel the misty spirits dancing outside.

I knew the witches called it vampire madness. But I would have wanted to go dance with the rain. Every bone in me longed to shed my human shell and go. Go and dance with the night ghosts until... until I would feel the morning drowsiness creeping, and would seek cover in some abandoned building somewhere nearby and fall to a dead sleep until the next night would find me. Then be out again.

I sighed. I would simply catch a cold.

I considered taking up my laptop and continuing studying a bit. And then realized I could access none of my study materials online. It was a sobering moment. I was more dependent on the internet than I had really thought before.

I lay awake on the bed, hearing the rain hit the tile roof above.

Why hadn't I moved out of the house? Of the city?

Surely I could have found a job of some sorts somewhere, and found a small apartment in any other town. I could have gone abroad. And yet. I had intended the return to humanity to be exactly that, a return to the ordinary and as my life had been.

Before when exactly though?

Before I had become a vampire three years ago?

Before I had met Blizzard in high-school?

But there had been hundreds of students in that high-school. No one else that I knew of had become drawn to Blizzard the way I had. Quite the opposite. While a passing by vampire felt fascinating to humans, the presence was often felt as intimidating. Unsettling. Too silent. Few people could see or sense auras in any truly tangible way. But some sort of presence was commonly felt. And for some reason that was very different in vampires. Colourless, silent, where with a person there were lights and music. It wasn't really that a vampire lacked an aura per se. The presence was just different. Clearly extraordinary.

Divine.

The thought came unbidden.

Divine.

Something that was connected to the human world, but not quite here.

And I had been desperately seeking for a proof of any kind of divinity way back before I ever laid eyes on Blizzard.

I had always admired my father's indifference to religious matters and been jealous of my mother's ability to just blindly lay all her faith in God. For some reason I couldn't fall onto either side.

I had always been seeking anything divine, signs of any kind of magic I couldn't explain. And I had found it in Blizzard.

I still found it in Blizzard. I could still see it in Plume.

And in the everpresent spirits around me, whose voice was just below my hearing.

I knew that if either of the vampires were judged by human laws, they would have been declared murderers. But...

I stared in the rain.

They weren't really human. I hadn't been really human either.

I had never really given in to quitting humanity. I had clung to my human morals and my human pain and made myself a truly miserable being. Divinity had been offered to me, and I had decided I didn't want that role. It was easier to accept its mark now in Plume. When I didn't need to incorporate it, I could admire the alien beauty that was a vampire.

I stared at the white painted slightly slanting ceiling above and, with the carefulness of carrying an absolutely brimming water basin, I let myself feel some of the memories I hadn't dared touch. The ones that proved I hadn't disappeared during two years, but had been here. Feeling, existing, and in a deep felt communion with the world. I closed my eyes. Just one memory.

—

I hadn't said a word the whole day. Not for many nights really.

I stood by the white painted building and wasn't quite sure if I truly even wanted to go inside. I wasn't sure I remembered how to talk to a human being that had known me since birth. I hoped I wouldn't need to either. I hoped she wasn't home, or at least wouldn't feel like talking.

Deep in thought, I circled the house and slipped into the backyard under the branches of a cherry tree her parents had planted on my birthday. The spirits had concentrated on its frozen branches and blew some packed snow to my face as I passed. I liked spirits. They weren't very talkative. It was impossible to miscommunicate with them. They just were. You could play with them, listen to them and as a vampire, you could direct them. If you were attentive.

I went to the glass door. I didn't really have the keys with me. I had left them in my room. But I lay my right hand on the door and looked inside where the handle was.

It wasn't that hard, as Blizzard had said. Not hard at all.

The spirits heard my intention. I felt them flowing into the lock. I saw with my eyes the connection, smoky, dancing tendrils, intertwined around my hand and the mechanism. There was a link between everything.

I bent the handle. The door opened outwards as the lock shifted.

Silent, as the wind, as a spirit, I exhaled my form inside. I breathed in the house the aromas of detergent and some instant noodles Mimosa had apparently made to pass for the evening meal. I was the slowly floating dust everywhere around.

I felt the small shifts in the air. And I was the air. With the air. Made of dust and shadows in the living room. The trick was more conviction than concentration. Like bending the handle had been. It wasn't hard to pass unnoticed. It wasn't hard to be without substance.

It was either easy and natural, or impossible. There wasn't the gray middle world of trying. Things were, and spirits were, they didn't, couldn't, try to be anything.

And right then I was the night air passing through the house.

Some part of me was aware of the lights and a human presence in the sauna. But it was just that, a presence. A part. Not something I linked any emotion to.

When I moved to the first step of the winding staircase, I knew the door behind my back opened. I knew a person came to the hall, just behind me.

"Timothy?" The voice carried an uncertain tone.

I ascended the stairs, flowing upwards. A passing breeze of shadows, detergent and mist.

"Are you home?"

She came behind me. Quicker than I.

An unpleasant feeling penetrated me.

My foot came hard onto the next step that gave a creak even under the meager weight of my body. I knew my form loomed now visible even in the shadows.

Natural.

Or right now, impossible.

I froze.

"Timothy?" Mimosa was just two steps behind me in the stairs. I could almost smell the apprehension she felt.

I must have looked odd, standing immobile and barefooted on the stairs. Especially on such a cold day.

I hadn't wanted to talk to her. We hadn't talked.

"Yes," I said. There was no rasp to my unused voice, I heard it vibrate silently in the walls around us. I felt and heard the echo it caused. "Just me."

I took a step down. Towards her. And turned. I had contacts, I knew my eyes didn't glow in the dark.

She had only a towel around her and her hair pasted wet against her scalp. She looked smaller than I remembered. And, due to my higher perch, I looked down at her. The unpleasant presence that had shook me away from my meditative passing came from her. Her faith. The one I had never had. But it protected her from the vampiric energy that fueled me. I was sure that, had she wanted to see me for what I was, she could have and there would have been nothing I could have done to prevent it.

Except, not to be available for inspection.

And to my great luck, she didn't want to see me.

"I haven't seen you for some time. It is really late. I wasn't sure someone hadn't broken in."

"I am sorry," I lied. I didn't feel sorry. I felt like I had broken in. Disturbed her night.

She definitely had disturbed my night.

She still disturbed it. And it wasn't just the aura around her. I felt worse as I stood there looking at her. I shouldn't have been a part of her world. It didn't feel right to stand there talking.

"I am just going to my room," I told her.

"Wait, Timothy." she reached out.

I gasped as her fingers reached my bare arm. The pain of the presence pressed against my skin. It brought tears to my eyes.

I shook her free, before I could think.

Slowly, Mimosa let her arm rest at her side. Her other hand was still holding the towel.

"I am worried for you. Are you okay, Little One?"

"I am fine," I said.

"But you are never here. I hardly see you."

"I am sorry," I repeated the empty words. "I have been thinking about moving out, actually. I think I need more own space."

"You don't need to," she said. "I will. Tomorrow. I did text you about it."

My phone was upstairs in my bedroom, and had probably run out of battery many days ago.

I shifted my other leg too to stand on the step nearer to her. And turned my full attention to listening.

"I am sorry. There is a lot on my mind right now. Where do you go?"

"Dale. I got work there, in a small game studio. They need a 3D-modeler that can do concepts too."

I found enough human in me to say: "That sounds amazing."

She smiled. "It is. I will live close enough to mum and dad, so you can come visit us all when you feel like it."

"I appreciate that."

We stood in silence in the staircase.

"Would you like some tea?" She asked.

I shook my head. "I have drunk one too many cups of it recently." And I wanted to go back to the night. Be with the playful winter spirits. Be lost in the white painted landscape.

—

Rain beat against the window. Had it been another night, I could have been lost to it, to the rain. But as a human I was here, stuck inside.

Because of the rain, I kept telling myself.

It wasn't the vampire's wish keeping me indoors. It was the rain.

And had I been a vampire, I could have gone into the downpour.

And had I never been one, I wouldn't have wanted to go.

Hellebore

It was a rainy night in early October. Though October was known for its gray weather, it was an uncharacteristically warm night and maybe because of that, or some other mysterious reason, the evening reminded me of another.

It had been over a year.

And I still hadn't called in the debt. I was still wondering if I should, or how I would ask it be paid. I didn't think money was what I wanted. It rarely was. What else it would be, I wasn't sure. But I needed to collect it soon. I had a very bad feeling of the continued survival of my little experiment.

I bent to take out the last piece of mushroom pie and heated it in the microwaves. It was late. And reheating the oven felt like a waste of time.

My visitor wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

I took out a tray and filled two mismatched cups with honeyed evening infusion of hibiscus flowers. I carried the tray to a table and seated myself onto a comfortable armchair I was told bore a yellow flower pattern.

Marquise came to rest her head against the arm rest. For a while I concentrated on scratching the animal behind an ear and where I could easily reach in its belly. Truth be told, I wasn't myself sure what exactly Marquise was. She had been caught in the same accident with me in 1286. And here we both were. The year being 2023.

Just for a moment we were the only ones in my tea room. Enjoying each other's company on a rainy evening. After an agitated Blizzard had blown through, no other customers had come in, and Catnip wouldn't start the early morning shift for many hours yet. So, for a small moment, it was just an old alchemist with his best friend.

Then the door opened. Another old friend came in.

I couldn't see them, but just then the presence was unmistakable.

"Ah! Evening! Hellebore, so good to see you! Tell me, what has happened to all the telephone booths? Can I use yours?" The voice was too high, but the rhythm was right.

"Telephone?" I asked, smiling at my cup. "Most certainly not."

"Why not?" The voice came closer. I heard a chair scraping the floor as they seated themselves.

"Because it has become a bit of personal these last few years. I like to keep mine in a pocket."

"In a pocket? How does that work?" There was fascination in the voice.

A spoon clicked against a plate, a very specific kind of high pitched thud as it first cut through pie. "This is heavenly. Tastes just the same. But what do you mean you keep your phone in a pocket?"

I fished mine out and showed the sleek little device to my visitor.

"If you go through your pockets, you might find one too."

"You mean you can call with that? You sure?" They asked.

I smiled. "I thought you were a feared magician, how come you don't believe in magic?"

"That isn't magical. It has none of the elegance." They said. I could almost hear the frown.

"No. It has no magical aura," I confirmed. "But I still find it rather magical, for I understand it even less than witchcraft. Why do you need a phone, anyway? I am sure I can carry on a message."

"Ah. Mmm... I met someone. A friend of the girl. He saw me, really saw me. I am not sure how. I've seen glimpses of the witch she hangs around with, and I am sure the witch can't directly tell when I peek through. Which is far too seldom still."

"Mmm... So you wish to talk to this fascinating man?"

"Yes. I could do with a friend. It will take time until I can fully recover all my memories and Lavender has friends. I think this man that sees and remembers could be easier to befriend than the young witch."

How curious... I wondered... I didn't really believe in coincidences anymore.

"What's his name?" I asked. "The boy that could see you. Did you ask his name?"

"He had the name of a grass. Timothy."

"Well. There is one curious fellow, I would say."

I leaned back in my chair and took a sip of the still hot liquid in my cup.

"You know him?"

"I always seem to know everyone interesting." I said modestly.

"What is he? A witch of some sorts?"

I shook my head. "No. Not a witch."

A silence stretched.

"You have no intention of telling me, do you old man?"

I considered it. Then I laid my cup on the table. "The truth is, I am not quite sure myself what became of him. But I know one thing: He won't go against Mo. And by now I fear he has figured out you are under the Queen's protection."

"If you wish," I continued, "I can arrange for the two of you to meet. Timothy owes me quite the debt."

"And you will just know when and where I can be reached, even if I won't?"

"Of course I will." I smiled.

Then my expression sobered. There were many things I knew, and this one saddened me:

"Our time is nearly up I am afraid."

"Thank you. For the familiar face then." There was resignation in their voice, a sigh.

"Always."

I heard the chair moved.

I rose myself too. "I will see you to the right metro."

I left Marquise, but took a walking aid that rested against the front door.

"Truth be told," I said as we stepped into the rain. "I don't think the modern society would mind my eyes so much. Staring is out of fashion, so is believing in the supernatural. We still live in the era of science. I think I could maybe stop pretending."

"Except, you can't read, of course. Or see anything on any of these colourful changing windows everywhere."

"By what I hear, it is a blessing."

They didn't answer.

The floor was slippery even in the tunnels. And despite the air being relatively warm, we decided to stop and buy a warm ice-cream each from the vendor there.

"Take the train with an end station in Loud Hill or Stream Island. You won't have to worry about which fork you'll need to take." I told them.

"Clear."

We tried the warm creamy substance.

"How is she? Lavender? I still get so little glimpses."

"Well," I said as we stopped just before the down going stairs. "She is quite charming actually. Well-liked. A bit lost, as the young tend to be these days. She lives with her boyfriend I hear. Her parents live in France you won't be surprised to know. I think, for now she is terrified of you."

I was silent for a while. But they waited.

"I think... You know I never met Julia... But... If Julia had been born to this century, I think Lavender would come close to what she could have been. With no pressures to marry or inherit. Just a clever young woman. Sweet."

"Sweet," they repeated wondering.

I put a hand on their delicate shoulder.

"She isn't someone random," I said, smiling reassurance. "I see you in her gestures. In some things she says. Stop thinking of her as something alien. It'll make you both much happier."

"You are blind," they said flatly.

"And it has never kept me from seeing the truly important details."

And as their presence stepped onto the first step of the descending escalator, I saw an important detail no seeing person around us could perceive. I saw the music that was my friend being swallowed by that of another. I could see blue becoming violet and hear the blues blending to k-pop.

I could feel Lavender turn in the stairs. I knew she saw me standing at the top of the escalator. And all I could do was smile sadly to her, for her concerned human eyes that couldn't see more than a twenty odd girl in a mirror when she looked at herself. And yet, tightly woven into the very core of her being was the other half of who she was, of what they were.

Even now I saw it. In the presence that was now more violet than blue, more orange than yellow, I saw it, felt clearly the old immortal spirit gone back to sleeping inside her. A true dragon in the guise of a common lizard. And it wouldn't be a very long time any more until the dragon would break completely free.

I wondered if it would ultimately destroy the lizard's fragile little nest in this world.

It had before destroyed quite a few.

It would try to destroy the world. That was, after all, its ultimate goal.

Lavender

I saw Hellebore. He wore that dark velvet scarf of his against the blind gaze. But as I watched he smiled, for me.

I didn't remember spending any time with Hellebore.

The escalator took me down.

I had an almost empty ice-cream cone in my hand. No bag. No keys. But the phone was still in my pocket.

Dazed, I came to the platform. Judging by the scarcity of human population, the time was late indeed. This suspicion became soon confirmed by a clock by the timetables. It wasn't far to midnight.

I sat on a bench to wait for a metro to take me home.

I felt surprisingly calm. Shocked.

I had known something was going on. But I hadn't woken up like this before. There had been small gaps in my memory and then there was the whole incident of the scarf...

And now Hellebore was the last thing I saw. He knew something.

I just needed to face the fact that I needed to ask him.

And for that I needed to admit to him and myself that something very odd was going on with my mind.

I lifted the cone in my hand. My credit card was in my bag in a small colourful pouch. Hellebore must have paid for the treat. I wondered what kind of a Lavender he had met with.

The cream at the bottom of the cone felt almost warm against my probing tongue. It was surprisingly good for warm ice-cream, strawberry.

At home by the downstairs door I truly realized I didn't have keys.

Lucky me I didn't live alone.

Unlucky me my boyfriend was sometimes hard to reach. But I left a message, and sat to wait. It had been raining. I was soaked to bone.

The funny thing however was I hadn't been wet before I came to this end of the metro line and had to step out and walk home. (I stored my bus card in the same colourful pouch where all my money was.)

"Honey?"

The door opened.

I sprang up and into his arms.

Dew took me into an embrace.

"What has happened?"

I didn't answer, just held onto him. I didn't know what to tell him. I didn't know myself, how could I have explained to him I didn't know?

"I forgot my bag at the university," I said. "I only noticed in the metro. And I think it was the last train."

"I went to the Fair Marquise, to work on a project," I improvised. "But then just talked with Hellebore, so I didn't even notice I had forgotten it."

Dew accepted this explanation. He himself was often late out. A friend of his lived nearby, Hugo. They often stayed together too late into the night. Sometimes Hugo was at our place, and sometimes Dew went over to his little apartment. They gamed. Or more rarely watched something together.

Once safely in the shower, I swore silently I would go to the Fair Marquise first thing in the morning and pester Hellebore until the man would tell me at least of this night.

First thing in the morning.