The first time Camelia saw him, she'd thought she was imagining things. She was on her way out of the castle to do charitable work at the cathedral for the day, as a lady ought to do from time to time, and just out of the corner of her eye she saw.... something. It gave her a little shiver and made her look over her shoulder for the rest of the day, but she never did spot anything unusual. Before she went to sleep that night, she went so far as to peek under the bed to make sure there was nothing hiding there. She didn't see anything, of course, because there was nothing to see but darkness and a couple of dust bunnies. The dust bunnies put her to thinking of what she'd do on the next day, and she drifted off to sleep thinking of mopping and sweeping and how hard it is to get into the cracks between the stones that were laid on some of the floors.
The second time she encountered him, Camelia wasn't even aware it was him. In fact, she didn't know what it was that she felt. She was aware of a presence suddenly, something that made her feel uncomfortable and gave her that same little shiver again. More than a little disturbed, she hurried away from where she'd been sitting with Dahlia in the tavern. She took herself home, wrapped herself up in all the covers she could find, and tried to put the experience out of her head. It was harder this time. She had dark dreams all night that she couldn't manage to recall in the light of morning.
When Camelia finally met Nocturne, it was more disturbing than any of her half remembered dreams. He had a disconcerting way of insinuating thoughts into her head that she knew oughtn't be there. It was even more disconcerting for her to find herself still thinking about him after she was safely home and tucked into her bed again. Things she'd thought were safe because they were only thoughts in the sanctity of her own head were not safe at all. In fact, he knew all of them, even the ones that had somehow managed to creep in about him while they were talking, like what it might feel like for him to take her hand. She realized he probably even knew the thoughts she'd had about him just now, huddled under her blankets. They were certainly secret, and he seemed to have a special affinity for secrets.
With sleep proving impossible, she found herself pacing the corridors late into the night, singing songs and trying to remember old poems to keep other thoughts from creeping into her head. It didn't work, of course. Inevitably her thoughts would drift again, so Camelia finally did the only other thing she could think of: she found her way to Dahlia and Casimir's door to see if they'd let her stay with them for the night. She raised a hand to knock and froze in place, thinking for a moment that something must have crept in and attacked them. The education she'd received since arriving in Fenia managed to provide other reasons that such sounds might be coming from their room, and Camelia backed away with a look of horror. She tiptoed down the hall as quietly as she could manage, stepping very high to keep from scraping her feet and vowing to never visit her brother's rooms again. That vow did little to help her now. Camelia propped her arms on a window ledge and stared out into the night. "I wish there was something else I could do or think about or someone to talk to," she sighed.
A Whisper in the Dark
Moderator: Community Team
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Camelia
Re: A Whisper in the Dark
Camelia's sleep did not become less disturbed as the days passed. She'd decided she must be in love, and once a decision was made, Camelia had always been one to throw herself wholeheartedly into things. In this case, it meant all the flowers she came across were denuded as she plucked their petals away one by one, whispering 'He loves me, he loves me not.' If a flower told her that she was loved, she hugged herself in joy and tucked the ragged stem inside a book for safekeeping. If a flower told her she was not loved, it would drive her to despair and tears, right up until another flower crossed her line of sight. Being in love also meant sleepless nights, of course. And it meant composing poetry. She'd never considered herself a writer of any sort, but neither had she ever shirked her duties. She took up pen and paper willingly and began composing verses that so far no one seemed willing to hear.
After it had been pointed out a number of times that perhaps she should just take matters in to her own hands, and her brother had suggested it might be years before he could arrange her marriage, she decided that maybe waiting for a declaration was not the best course of action. She could be a secret admirer in the meanwhile, though of course, Nocturne would know the identity of his admirer since he tended to know secrets, but she could hardly be blamed for that. Any other beau would have been decently ignorant of her identity, so she decided she'd just pretend he was and hope he had enough of a sense of propriety to do the same.
Camelia started leaving presents around the castle for Nocturne to find, tucked discreetly into shadowed corners and dark byways. She left a nice tart in an antechamber to the throne room, but she was fairly sure mice found it before Nocturne did. Or perhaps he had much tinier teeth and lots of very fine fur that she hadn't noticed before, but she was fairly sure she'd have noticed those things. She tucked one of her poems (unsigned, of course) into the ledge of a parapet high above the courtyard. (Oh Nocturne,/For you I burn-/I'll always yearn/For your concern.) She wasn't sure how long it would take him to find that one since it was drenched in sunlight and without good shadows for simply hours every day. For good measure, she decided to also leave a very clever little magic globe she'd bought tucked into a window seat in one of the gallery halls. When any living thing touched it, it emitted a soft glow. This seemed like something that would be helpful for a creature who was always in the dark, at least to Camelia. She worried that Nocturne might get lost in all that darkness, as she sometimes did.
After it had been pointed out a number of times that perhaps she should just take matters in to her own hands, and her brother had suggested it might be years before he could arrange her marriage, she decided that maybe waiting for a declaration was not the best course of action. She could be a secret admirer in the meanwhile, though of course, Nocturne would know the identity of his admirer since he tended to know secrets, but she could hardly be blamed for that. Any other beau would have been decently ignorant of her identity, so she decided she'd just pretend he was and hope he had enough of a sense of propriety to do the same.
Camelia started leaving presents around the castle for Nocturne to find, tucked discreetly into shadowed corners and dark byways. She left a nice tart in an antechamber to the throne room, but she was fairly sure mice found it before Nocturne did. Or perhaps he had much tinier teeth and lots of very fine fur that she hadn't noticed before, but she was fairly sure she'd have noticed those things. She tucked one of her poems (unsigned, of course) into the ledge of a parapet high above the courtyard. (Oh Nocturne,/For you I burn-/I'll always yearn/For your concern.) She wasn't sure how long it would take him to find that one since it was drenched in sunlight and without good shadows for simply hours every day. For good measure, she decided to also leave a very clever little magic globe she'd bought tucked into a window seat in one of the gallery halls. When any living thing touched it, it emitted a soft glow. This seemed like something that would be helpful for a creature who was always in the dark, at least to Camelia. She worried that Nocturne might get lost in all that darkness, as she sometimes did.
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Nocturne
Re: A Whisper in the Dark
The creature borne of shadow frowned at the young woman's lack of slumber. It only served to fray the minds of the living when they did not rest properly, after all. He already had his duties watching over Lady Ambra's slumber, and monitoring her vital signs while she attempted to fight off the sickness that had her no longer in her usual locations. Each night, he wrote her letters of reports to keep her aware of what was going on in the realm during her absence. And with the Lady Dahlia's recent ... brief incapacitation, he intervened in a most unorthodox way medically, so that likely no one would ever hear that story, and it probably traumatized Camelia's poor brother more than he would ever admit.
Yet a couple days later, Casimir came to him with a remark about tongues...which made no sense, for tongues had nothing to do with walking by a lake. Nor did they with many things, but the odd implications were there. Perhaps he should've had Dwayberry enlighten Casimir to her thoughts about kissing, which might have revealed his affinity for eating things metallic. He went to her poem and globe, finding it a very thoughtful thing to do, yet he wondered did she not realize his obligations. Shaking his head, of course she didn't. She was still young and naive to the ways of the world, and a being such as himself would likely only bring her pain. He sighed softly at the innocence of the woman, and tried to think back if he ever remembered himself as such. Perhaps it was the birth in the shadows that gave insights onto the darker nature of mankind, but the kind of trust and hope that she had was unprecedented in his own life.
He replaced the globe with a dark orb, which seemed to shimmer with the light of inner stars. He didn't know if she would find it, but if it did, eventually the globe would give her a message, explaining a few things. Such as the nature of mankind, and sins, since Casimir said that she tried to not sin and was afraid to do so, perhaps he could help guide her through the words of deities that screamed out in such lies. The words may have once been from the deity, yet they had since been ruined by mankind, and twisted for their own manipulations. Try to get any priest to admit that, though...
Yet a couple days later, Casimir came to him with a remark about tongues...which made no sense, for tongues had nothing to do with walking by a lake. Nor did they with many things, but the odd implications were there. Perhaps he should've had Dwayberry enlighten Casimir to her thoughts about kissing, which might have revealed his affinity for eating things metallic. He went to her poem and globe, finding it a very thoughtful thing to do, yet he wondered did she not realize his obligations. Shaking his head, of course she didn't. She was still young and naive to the ways of the world, and a being such as himself would likely only bring her pain. He sighed softly at the innocence of the woman, and tried to think back if he ever remembered himself as such. Perhaps it was the birth in the shadows that gave insights onto the darker nature of mankind, but the kind of trust and hope that she had was unprecedented in his own life.
He replaced the globe with a dark orb, which seemed to shimmer with the light of inner stars. He didn't know if she would find it, but if it did, eventually the globe would give her a message, explaining a few things. Such as the nature of mankind, and sins, since Casimir said that she tried to not sin and was afraid to do so, perhaps he could help guide her through the words of deities that screamed out in such lies. The words may have once been from the deity, yet they had since been ruined by mankind, and twisted for their own manipulations. Try to get any priest to admit that, though...
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Camelia
Re: A Whisper in the Dark
Camelia did find the globe, and sooner perhaps than Nocturne might have expected. She checked all her little hiding places daily to see if her gifts had been found. It only occurred to her after finding the poem missing that someone other than Nocturne might find these tokens, and then she fretted all the way to the window seat in the gallery, worried about who might be reading her poem. The dark orb that had replaced her shimmering globe reassured her. Who but Nocturne could have left it? She held it to her cheek and breathed his name in a whisper after finding it, only to pull it away and give it a suspicious look a moment later. It seemed almost as if the orb was urging her to pull out a few hair pins and enjoy the look and feel of the golden cascade of her locks. That had to be vanity, though, and Camelia was quite sure her mother would have frowned on being vain almost as much as the nice lady who used to own Camelia. She put the orb to her ear this time, to try to hear if there was anything there to make sense of this strange hair whim, and shortly jerked it back as if it was on fire. She was almost positive she'd heard a voice sighing to her of how much happier she would be if she were just to speak her heart to her beloved. Camelia began to wonder if this thing had really been left by Nocturne, or if it was some demon's trick. Just that day Bremelano had dropped a spider on her nose, and this had the feel of something that would amuse him as well.
She considered the orb carefully as she walked back to her room, turning it over in her hands and admiring its subtle shimmer. It really was a pretty bauble, and she wanted badly for it to be from Nocturne, so she decided she would believe it was. When she got back to her room, she opened the lid of a small wooden box and laid the orb next to the silver charm he'd given her. One day, she thought, I'll have love letters to lay here, too. She smiled a secret smile and shut the lid, which also thankfully shut out the new ideas having to do with love letters that the orb seemed to be encouraging her to consider.
The orb was a tricky thing though, or someone else was playing tricks on her, because that night she woke up from a sound sleep after having dreamt of going swimming in a short skirted and sleeveless bathing costume only to find the orb had somehow gotten under her pillow. She fingered it for a moment, remembering the silky, cool feel of the water against her skin in her dream, then hurried across the room to stuff the orb back in its box and slam the lid. "Really," she huffed, "as if I would ever do such a thing." She resolved to buy a lock for the box the next day, but she never was able to get back to sleep that night. Every time she started to drift off, the dream about swimming would come back, and sometimes Nocturne would be there with her, which only made it more worrisome.
She considered the orb carefully as she walked back to her room, turning it over in her hands and admiring its subtle shimmer. It really was a pretty bauble, and she wanted badly for it to be from Nocturne, so she decided she would believe it was. When she got back to her room, she opened the lid of a small wooden box and laid the orb next to the silver charm he'd given her. One day, she thought, I'll have love letters to lay here, too. She smiled a secret smile and shut the lid, which also thankfully shut out the new ideas having to do with love letters that the orb seemed to be encouraging her to consider.
The orb was a tricky thing though, or someone else was playing tricks on her, because that night she woke up from a sound sleep after having dreamt of going swimming in a short skirted and sleeveless bathing costume only to find the orb had somehow gotten under her pillow. She fingered it for a moment, remembering the silky, cool feel of the water against her skin in her dream, then hurried across the room to stuff the orb back in its box and slam the lid. "Really," she huffed, "as if I would ever do such a thing." She resolved to buy a lock for the box the next day, but she never was able to get back to sleep that night. Every time she started to drift off, the dream about swimming would come back, and sometimes Nocturne would be there with her, which only made it more worrisome.
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Nocturne
Re: A Whisper in the Dark
The orb would sense its place, and shadows would ooze out of the box, projecting into her room. The voice would speak, or perhaps that was plural. To the trained ear, it was in fact a plethora of voices blended as one. "These dreams are but manifestations of your subconscious mind, Camelia. Though we shadows watch over you, it cannot be misconstrued as to your feelings. This is merely obsession, it is not love. Please understand this difference. And while you are a lovely young woman, there is much for you to yet learn about the ways of the world. And despite his luck with a marriage thus far, it does not appear that your brother is going to teach you the important things either. For he simply wants to make you happy however he can, and is perhaps too... afraid... of telling you the truth of the world."
The shadows wavered as if trying to find a solid form, but were unable to make up their minds which of the voices' forms would be used, so it was like a humanoid blur. "Nocturne doesn't wish to hurt your heart, for you are a being of purity. Someone that he finds such a rare nature in this world, and he feels he would be wrong to desecrate it, when he cannot offer what it is that you desire. Our beliefs run differently than that of mortals, and to try to fulfill that would break him, just as trying to fulfill ours would break you. This is why this message comes." There was a pause, "More of your innocence and purity is needed in this realm, but without such distractions of an unworthy man such as Nocturne."
"Remember, you are a hope for humanity, Camelia. He will not ruin that hope that is your goodness, your truth and search for the light. For that light is in him, but it follows a different path. You both want good for the world, but his good is understood differently. Where it is for you to shine the light for the people, it is for him to be the dark blade that cuts out the unholy and allows the light to keep shining. Do you understand our meaning?"
The shadows wavered as if trying to find a solid form, but were unable to make up their minds which of the voices' forms would be used, so it was like a humanoid blur. "Nocturne doesn't wish to hurt your heart, for you are a being of purity. Someone that he finds such a rare nature in this world, and he feels he would be wrong to desecrate it, when he cannot offer what it is that you desire. Our beliefs run differently than that of mortals, and to try to fulfill that would break him, just as trying to fulfill ours would break you. This is why this message comes." There was a pause, "More of your innocence and purity is needed in this realm, but without such distractions of an unworthy man such as Nocturne."
"Remember, you are a hope for humanity, Camelia. He will not ruin that hope that is your goodness, your truth and search for the light. For that light is in him, but it follows a different path. You both want good for the world, but his good is understood differently. Where it is for you to shine the light for the people, it is for him to be the dark blade that cuts out the unholy and allows the light to keep shining. Do you understand our meaning?"
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Camelia
Re: A Whisper in the Dark
Perhaps, being shadows, any small light seemed to have a potential that was imperceptible to most mortals. Camelia would have blushed to think of herself as a "hope for humanity", no matter how conscientiously she tried to do good works. Her good deeds were small and mundane, the tiny acts that make the world a bit more bearable perhaps, but never such a thing as she'd have considered world changing, or even capable of changing one life. It may have been partly in an effort to resist the knowledge of her true nature that her life and doings had been so determinedly prosaic, but that nature was still a mystery to her for now. For now, all that mattered was her awareness of the smallness of her existence. That awareness rebuffed the shadows' efforts to instill in her a sense of her fate, though they did at least manage to curtail her obsession with their creature, Nocturne.
Or perhaps the shadows were simply wrong.
In the days that followed, a change came over Camelia. Her brother, so miraculously saved from his years long possession by the Evan's efforts, and once welcomed into her chambers to make his new home with her, instead became the focus of a new, malevolent intent. She ceased sleeping, sitting up instead through the night as she waited for Warrick to slumber so she could wake him with insidious whispers, describing horrors the girl should not have been able to imagine. Many of those horrors were drawn directly from Warrick's experiences during his possession. This should have been the first great clue as to why Camelia was so changed, but Warrick was so troubled by his nightly torment at his sister's hands that he told no one, ashamed of his own part in his history even though it had been unwilling.
She began to take more care with her appearance, lacing her waist tighter and carefully arranging her décolleté to dramatic effect. She even went so far as to experiment with cosmetics, a thing she had always shunned in the past. Her behavior among company became more provocative, both in terms of the disputes that seemed to spring up to the spark of her remarks and the abandon with which she delivered herself to the caresses of the succubus.
Her mind was so well guarded and her intentions so thoroughly masked by subtle arts that none of the creatures she came in contact with suspected the truth. Even her brother Casimir was fooled for a time, but in the end, it was he who sensed the truth: the demon who had been removed from Warrick had found a new home in his sister. The fiend strove to remain where it had so fortunately lighted, but a greater power, the sorcery of Elder Cain removed it and left the girl to try to make sense of what had happened.
When she came to after the rite which had removed the demon, she found herself in an unfamiliar place, in the company of her sister-in-law, Dahlia. Camelia sobbed with relief to be free, but then quickly grew withdrawn as she realized that her entire life had been put in chaos by what had happened. How could she pretend to be an innocent now? How could she lay any claim to goodness after the acts committed under the influence of the demon? How could she even manage to face Warrick again? For as many days as she could, she remained at the isolated cottage and kept away from the company of others, until at last she felt she had overstayed her welcome there. From there, Camelia crept shamefacedly back to the castle and into her room, not knowing where else to go. Once, she would have gone to the convent to atone for her misdeeds. Now her misdeeds were too great, and she was too profaned to seek such solace.
Warrick was blessedly absent on her return, but the other reminders of her recent past were scattered all about: cosmetics on her dressing table, tiny baby clothes in various states of completion on a work table, a tangle of covers on her bed from where she'd risen in the night when the demon took her, only to forsake the bed thereafter. She began by shoveling the cosmetics into a bin to go to the rubbish, but she quickly found herself pausing to study the contents of the little box in which she saved her keepsakes. Two silver charms lay in the bottom, each of them now only a source of discomfort to her, and the cunning orb, whose subtle messages seemed naive now in the light of her new knowledge. Camelia considered these things briefly, desiring to let them join the rubbish heap with the rest, but strangely reluctant to do so at the same time, as if she would be throwing away the last of her innocence with those small items. After a moment she tucked them into a small bag that went into a pocket in her voluminous skirts, then continued restoring the chamber to order. With that chore done, Camelia left the castle again to seek out a smith and have the bits of silver and strange orb crafted into a thing that would serve her better than baubles.
Or perhaps the shadows were simply wrong.
In the days that followed, a change came over Camelia. Her brother, so miraculously saved from his years long possession by the Evan's efforts, and once welcomed into her chambers to make his new home with her, instead became the focus of a new, malevolent intent. She ceased sleeping, sitting up instead through the night as she waited for Warrick to slumber so she could wake him with insidious whispers, describing horrors the girl should not have been able to imagine. Many of those horrors were drawn directly from Warrick's experiences during his possession. This should have been the first great clue as to why Camelia was so changed, but Warrick was so troubled by his nightly torment at his sister's hands that he told no one, ashamed of his own part in his history even though it had been unwilling.
She began to take more care with her appearance, lacing her waist tighter and carefully arranging her décolleté to dramatic effect. She even went so far as to experiment with cosmetics, a thing she had always shunned in the past. Her behavior among company became more provocative, both in terms of the disputes that seemed to spring up to the spark of her remarks and the abandon with which she delivered herself to the caresses of the succubus.
Her mind was so well guarded and her intentions so thoroughly masked by subtle arts that none of the creatures she came in contact with suspected the truth. Even her brother Casimir was fooled for a time, but in the end, it was he who sensed the truth: the demon who had been removed from Warrick had found a new home in his sister. The fiend strove to remain where it had so fortunately lighted, but a greater power, the sorcery of Elder Cain removed it and left the girl to try to make sense of what had happened.
When she came to after the rite which had removed the demon, she found herself in an unfamiliar place, in the company of her sister-in-law, Dahlia. Camelia sobbed with relief to be free, but then quickly grew withdrawn as she realized that her entire life had been put in chaos by what had happened. How could she pretend to be an innocent now? How could she lay any claim to goodness after the acts committed under the influence of the demon? How could she even manage to face Warrick again? For as many days as she could, she remained at the isolated cottage and kept away from the company of others, until at last she felt she had overstayed her welcome there. From there, Camelia crept shamefacedly back to the castle and into her room, not knowing where else to go. Once, she would have gone to the convent to atone for her misdeeds. Now her misdeeds were too great, and she was too profaned to seek such solace.
Warrick was blessedly absent on her return, but the other reminders of her recent past were scattered all about: cosmetics on her dressing table, tiny baby clothes in various states of completion on a work table, a tangle of covers on her bed from where she'd risen in the night when the demon took her, only to forsake the bed thereafter. She began by shoveling the cosmetics into a bin to go to the rubbish, but she quickly found herself pausing to study the contents of the little box in which she saved her keepsakes. Two silver charms lay in the bottom, each of them now only a source of discomfort to her, and the cunning orb, whose subtle messages seemed naive now in the light of her new knowledge. Camelia considered these things briefly, desiring to let them join the rubbish heap with the rest, but strangely reluctant to do so at the same time, as if she would be throwing away the last of her innocence with those small items. After a moment she tucked them into a small bag that went into a pocket in her voluminous skirts, then continued restoring the chamber to order. With that chore done, Camelia left the castle again to seek out a smith and have the bits of silver and strange orb crafted into a thing that would serve her better than baubles.