Chapter 35: The Person You Want Me To Be

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And now, back to the Poor Life Choices starring the Albrecht Family.

***

Thirty-Nine Years Ago

Alistair brooded over his dinner while he waited for his guest to arrive. He’d gone to quite a bit of trouble, to arrange for this dinner with the heiress to House Koenig. His House didn’t have nearly as much to offer as it once did: the castle demolished, all members besides himself and Elleanor extinguished, only their school and its seven hundred students remaining. He needed something, or his family would be lost forever. They would never rest.

He would never rest.

He wondered what that would be like, to rest. He slept sometimes, but he never rested. His dreams always woke him up after a too-short sleep, scared and exhausted and defeated, his Star hanging over him, casting its putrid light, tainting his existence.

Something would need to change.

He sat at the table in his suite at the top of the school's residential building, a dinner of steak tartare and champagne spread across the clear glass table. He’d prepared it himself- he hoped he’d done a good job. He brushed back an errant strand of hair and cracked his knuckles.

The door opened, and in walked a vision of feminine beauty. Wavy brown hair worn at waist-length, eyes blue as the ocean on a clear day, an ample bust and child-bearing hips contained within a flattering blue gown, tall and proud and graceful as her pedigree would suggest. She smiled when she saw him. “Now that’s impressive.”

“Erm… What is?” Alistair said, eyes wide.

“You’re even prettier than you were the last time I saw you,” she said, sauntering up to him. “How do you manage that? I’m really curious.”

Alistair… Blushed. He felt it happen, felt his cheeks going red. He couldn’t remember the last time that happened. “I-I-I… Thank you. You’re quite beautiful as well- all others pale next to you. Including myself.”

“Pretty and sweet. Good combination,” she said as she sat herself at the table. “We didn’t get to formally meet at the summit last year. I’m Caroline.”

“Alistair.”

“It’s a pleasure. I’ve been waiting to see you again for a while.”

“You… You have?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ve heard all about you. Your story is pretty famous with the other Houses. And Svetlanna raved about you when she worked for my mother a few years back. Now, I know this will seem rather forward, but I’m the sort of girl who knows what she wants. And I know you’re a single man in possession of a good fortune, and must therefore be in want of a wife.”

Alistair nearly choked on his champagne. “It’s a… A truth universally acknowledged,” he said, rolling his shoulders and correcting his posture.

Caroline giggled. “I had a feeling this was the right place to make my case.”

“For?”

“For being your wife, of course,” Caroline said. “And to prove it, I brought a dowry with me. I’m assuming you recall how last year’s summit ended with the Chosen One barging in and collecting a debt?”

“It’s rather difficult to forget. They also said anything pertaining to my plan would have to wait until the Chosen One was found again and captured.”

Caroline sipped her champagne. “Yes. And relevant to that, I have good news for you: we’ve found him.”
“What?”

She put her hand, warm and soft, on his, rough and calloused. “The Chosen One. His name is Bryant Hanover. We’ve put him away for, shall we say, safe-keeping until such time as we find this Dark Lord he’s meant to fight. Would you like to meet him? I have a feeling you’ll have much to talk about.”

“That is… The most wonderful news you could have possibly given me,” Alistair said, squeezing the divine woman’s hand. “And the Chosen One’s miscegenated mongrel counterpart? This so-called Dark Lord.”

“We’ve been looking for him as well. My family has been dreaming of their battle for generations. We’re very invested in making it happen. Just as you are very invested in saving magic.”

Alistair put his free hand on Caroline’s cheek. “My dear, you understand me quite well. I believe you and I are going to get along swimmingly.”

***

Danny was allowed to sleep in his own bedroom that night. It was a small victory, and it filled him with immeasurable joy. There was something sacred about your own room, something worth protecting.

“It’s the only thing you consider worth protecting, isn’t it?” Drew asked.

Danny laid on his floor, wrapped in a blanket, clutching his old paperback copy of The Farthest Shore to his chest, trying to shut everything else out.
“Well?”

Danny ignored him.

“Well?”

Danny opened his book and began reading the opening lines.

“For FUCK’S SAKE!” Drew screamed directly into Danny’s ear.

Danny yelped, the book shaking free of his hands. He gathered himself on the floor, and he saw smoke pouring from Drew’s mouth, nostrils, and ears, his eyes replaced with fire, the hideous odor of burning hair and flesh stitching itself into the air. “WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING?!” Drew bellowed. He still looked like a shivering, rail-thin sixteen year old; he had no right to be intimidating. And yet Danny screamed.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Danny’s father appeared in the doorway. Drew, the smoke, the fire, all vanished in an instant. “Are you alright, son?” Alistair asked.

“Yeah, Dad,” Danny said.

“You were screaming just now.”

“I… I was. I was having a nightmare.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Why are you on the floor?”

“I, uh… I like sleeping on the floor.”

“I see. But why?”

Oh God, here we go. “I just… I just do.”

“You’re incredibly strange, my son,” the king of the ghouls said, knitting his massive white eyebrows together.

“Yeah,” Danny said. “Uh, thanks for checking on me.”

“I was concerned. I know the detoxification process can be quite painful-”

Wait for it, just wait for it. “Mh-hm.”

“And I wanted to make certain you were alright.”

So far so good. “Thank you, Dad. Like I said, though, I feel fine.”

“Count yourself lucky,” Alistair said. “Your sister Guinevere had to go about this process all alone, without the aid of her family or any creature comforts. If a creature as wretched as her could do that, surely you can survive something even easier. You wouldn’t want to be like her, now would you?”

Aaaaannndddddd there it is. There it inevitably fucking is. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Now get some sleep. And let me know if you need anything.”

His father left, and shut the door behind him.

Danny gathered his knees and pressed them against his chest.

“Well that was heartwarming,” Drew said, reappearing. He was still on fire.

“Fuck’s sake,” Danny said.

“It’s good that he cares about you so much.”

“You’re mocking me.”

“No, I’m being serious. My own father wasn’t exactly the most attentive. Or caring. Or… Present, really. He didn’t literally go out for cigarettes and never come back, he just used my arms to stub the butts out after he smoked ‘em, and then told me to go to bed at eight pm.” The fire spread over Drew’s entirety as patches of black Void broke through behind him.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Ha ha ha.”

The smoke lost itself in the Void, where the charred remains of a church, of Saint Cecilia’s, floated upwards. “I was being serious. He used to do that. You know, before I died. Dunno what he did afterwards. Maybe he had another kid to use as an ashtray.”

Danny gritted his teeth. “You’re not Drew. Quit acting like you are.”

The fire coiled upwards, devouring each church remnant like a hungry dragon. “I remember everything about his life, though. And I like to think I’m getting his voice right.”

Danny rubbed his eyes, then stood up and walked over to his bed. He laid down in it, the softness jarring him awake. It wasn’t natural to sleep on a bed, not for him. He’d been sleeping on the floor as far back as he could remember- he had no clue why, it was just what felt right. “What the hell are you, exactly?”

Drew’s face jutted out from an inferno. “Mmmmm I don’t wanna tell you.”

The fire singed Danny’s skin. “Why not?”

A castle floated by in pieces, the stones drifting through the inferno and becoming shooting stars in the process. “Because I’m not sure what you’d do with the information. Frankly, I’m afraid you’ll tell your parents on me.”

The meteors fell towards Danny. “Gee, thanks.”

“Yeah, the truth hurts, doesn’t it? Just like detoxing!”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Drew said. “So, you gonna finally do something?”

Danny stared at the wall ahead. Lacy’s fight with Alistair was set for tomorrow at dawn, because of course it was. Which meant if he was going to do something, now would in fact be the time. Starfall was upon him.

He clenched his fists tightly at his sides, and then rolled out of bed.

Lacy’s room was right down the hall. His father’s servants had installed new Entropy wards to the room and put bars on the windows. But Danny was exceptionally good at picking locks- he would make quick work of it. They were having Lacy stay in Elaine’s bedroom. There was something perverse about that. Lacy had killed his sister- No, no it wasn’t her fault. Lacy didn’t know what she was doing. It was Gwen’s fault. All of this is her fault. Always has been. She’ll get what’s coming to her soon.

Danny approached the door, but was stopped. Merab stood outside reading a fashion magazine called Gothic Lolita Monthly. “Hello there. How’s it going?”

“Let me through,” Danny said. “I wanna talk to her.”

“Hmmmm,” Merab said. “Well I could certainly use some fresh entertainment. But that means I get to watch you two.”

“... Why?”

“So you two don’t try to kill each other again,” Merab said, wagging her finger back and forth. “Your daddy would get real cross with me. And not in the fun way.”

She opened the door for him, an overdone flourish of her hands shepherding him in.

“This is not what I meant, you dickhead,” Drew said as Danny opened the door.

Danny ignored him and entered. He found Lacy sitting up in her bed with the lights on, looking directly at him. Brooding anger poured off of her. Danny flinched- she must’ve heard him coming. “Evening,” Lacy said. “Come here often?”

“Ha! That was funny,” Drew said. “Well, maybe not to you, but it was to me.”

“Shut up, Drew,” Danny said as Merab closed the door behind them and leaned against it. It took him a moment to realize he’d said that aloud.

Lacy gave him a long, unblinking look. “So you really can see him too?”

Danny rubbed his eyes. “Yeah. I can.”

“Guess I’m not crazy. That’s a relief.” Angry. Bitter. Tired. A typhoon raging against crumbling levees of sanity and serenity.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning that you’re clearly insane. You’re fighting my dad tomorrow. And it was your idea, so that makes you the crazy one, not anyone else.”

“Agree to disagree.” Caustic. Dry as sandpaper rubbed over eczema.

“Oh come on,” Danny said, his arms going limp. “Don’t do this!”

“Why not?” Flippant. All the care of a sky-diver who’d deliberately gone up without a parachute.

“Because you’ll die!”

“No, I won’t. Your dad wants me alive, not dead.” Confident. The sky-diver somehow knew she’d survive the fall. Or it at least had deluded herself into thinking she would.

“And you just… Know that?” Danny asked.

“He’s kept me alive this long, hasn’t he? I think he’s always wanted me alive. I mean what, did you really think this was just a favor to you? That your dad is inconveniencing himself like this, delaying or even potentially jeopardizing his evil plans, because… He loves you?”

Mocking. May as well have laughing in his face.

A spark of rage ignited inside him. “My parents love me.”

Lacy snorted. “Yeah, I thought that about my folks at one point too. I told myself that to make it easier, but you know something?” She leaned forward and clasped her hands. “It doesn’t matter. Even if, in their own deeply twisted, deeply stupid way they had some flicker of genuine affection for me, it doesn’t fucking matter. They were still bad people and they were still bad parents.”

Sincere.

Danny looked at her blankly. “I know what you’re trying to do. It won’t work a second time. I’m just here to talk you out of this.”

“Well then fuck off,” Lacy said. Irritated. “It’s not gonna work. I’ve made up my mind. Also, I don’t trust a word you have to say.” Still sincere.

“This is going great,” Drew said. He was a pillar of fire with holes for his eyes and mouth, rising and rising and rising infinitely. All the floating debris and detritus of the Liminal Void was drawn into his orbit and floated around. That which drifted too close was disintegrated.

“Shut up, Drew!” Danny said.
“Don’t talk to him like that, he’s trying to help,” Lacy said. Still fucking sincere, Jesus Christ. “Unlike some people I know. Now leave me alone, Danny. I wanna get some sleep.”

“Lacy. Please. I-”

“I said GET OUT!” He didn’t need his powers to read her for that one.

“Best do as the lady says, pretty boy,” Merab said, grabbing Danny by the tricep.

All the life bleeding out of him, Danny slinked away and went back to his room, attempting to ignore Merab smirking and flipping him off as he left. His head throbbed, and his stomach turned. He contemplated what Lacy had said, what Drew had said, what his father had said. What his father had offered him.

He laid back on the floor. Maybe he should accept it. It would make everything easier.

“Oh no you don’t,” Drew said. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

Danny was lifted from the ground, and was drawn into the orbit of the pillar of fire, floating in the Liminal Void with all the other lost objects, screaming.

He went unheard.