Underland

Chapter 46: One

The moment Valdemar returned, Marianne knew something was terribly wrong.

He came too late for a start. By the time he joined, Count De Vane had already regaled his daughter and guests with a tea ceremony; though as a skeleton gentleman, it was more for the benefit of the living than his own. The Count had recently suffered an accident in one of his facilities, but thankfully undeath hadnt dimmed his courteous spirit.

The food and drinks were of the highest quality, and for a few peaceful minutes Marianne had been brought back to the days when Bertrand cooked delicious meals for her. Months had passed since then, and they felt like years.

Where were you? Liliane complained to Valdemar in the De Vane lobby as the group met with their missing member. My father kept pestering me about your absence, and I was so happy I could finally introduce the two of you! I told you not to be late!

Valdemar didnt answer. His eyes averted his friends gaze, his skin paler than usual. His familiar followed him like a shadow, Ktulus six eyes glancing at his master with clear concern.

Lilianes annoyance turned to worry. Valdy?

How Valdemar cleared his throat. How was he? Your father?

Oh, he was so happy that I made friends at the Institute, Liliane replied with a bright smile. He was a little surprised when I presented Hermann to him, but they hit it off.

Count De Vane is an avid art collector, Hermann explained while clearing his throat. He had removed his mask during the meeting and kept his face exposed afterward. Marianne took it as a sign that he was growing comfortable with his current company. I think he might commission work for us in the future.

Valdemar didnt answer. He simply glanced at the window, his gaze empty while his familiar clung to his pants side seam with a tiny hand. Something terrible happened, Marianne guessed. The others had noticed too and now looked at their friend with concern.

He also said he would gladly help mass-produce an antidote for the Beast Plague if we could figure one out, Liliane added with a happy grin, though Marianne could tell she was forcing herself to try to lighten up the mood. And he had super good news for Marianne too!

According to the Count, there is word among Saklas noble circles that the Empress intends to repeal my exile, Marianne explained. As a reward for my courageous actions against enemies of the state. Nothing confirmed yet.

This time, Valdemar looked up at her. Another man would have congratulated her, said how happy they were. But the summoner knew Marianne all too well. Does that make you happy? He asked.

Marianne sighed. Not so much.

In a way, she was glad that the stain on her honor would be removed, and it might make her father and mother welcome her back with open arms but Marianne didnt truly want to go home. The same problems that had plagued her since Jrmes demise would remain festering beneath the surface.

Besides, she didnt think she ever felt truly at home among the Saklas aristocracy. Her place was on the field fighting the evils of the world, not at home hosting balls for jaded dilettantes.

Valdemar responded with a silent nod, and then looked back at the window.

This time, Lilianes smile completely faltered. Valdy, what happened? she asked him directly. Whats wrong?

Valdemar answered with another question. How many people die each day?

Hes thinking of the Outer Darkness, Marianne realized. Was that why he had to leave early? To study the Qlippoths and figure out how their dimension worked?

How many people die each day? Valdemar repeated.

Liliane frowned, unsettled by her friends words. How many humans?

Dokkar, troglodyte, humans how many die each day? When neither Marianne nor Liliane would answer his question, Valdemar turned to Hermann. Do you know?

If you count all our worlds civilizations Hermann calculated the number in his head. Tens of thousands I would say.

Valdemar glanced away again. Thats what I thought.

Youre thinking about the Outer Darkness, arent you? Marianne asked, guessing the root of the problem. Its beyond your power to change.

Its not that, Marianne, he replied. Thousands of innocents die but theyre still here after all these years. They get away with everything.

His voice brimmed with sorrow and disappointment.

Who are they? Liliane asked, unaware of the details. Valdy, whats going on?

I Valdemar opened his mouth only to swiftly close it. Nothing.

Valdy, look at us, Liliane asked with a frown. Valdy. Valdy, please.

He did. And as Valdemar raised his eyes to look at his friends, Mariannes enhanced sense of sight picked up every single microexpression on his face. She noticed the lack of light in his gaze, the strained look of sorrow he gave Liliane and the brief flash of guilt as he glanced at Hermann. And to Marianne, this expression felt all too familiar.

She had already seen it the first time she looked at her mirror after killing Jrme.

Lilianes words didnt register with her friend. Valdemar, usually so optimistic and stalwart in the face of adversity, looked as dead as the undying workers toiling in Sabaoths mines.

He didnt say another word for the rest of the day.

By the time the group went their separate ways, Valdemars mood had only worsened.

Iren had also returned early with a letter, saying it had taken far less time than he had expected. Valdemar took the unopened document, read it without a word, and decided to teleport back to his bedroom in Lord Bethors tower. Unwilling to leave him alone, Marianne had decided to follow him.

Weve seen him like this before, Liliane had whispered to Marianne with a sigh before they separated. When he learned the truth about his grandfather. He wouldnt come out of his room for days.

Its worse this time Hermann had rasped in response. The way he looks at us he fears for our lives

He looks even more crushed after reading that letter than before, Iren had noted.

None of them had managed to break through their friends shield of silence, and neither could Marianne. Valdemar had simply moved on to his bunk bed and kept staring at the ceiling for hours. Ktulu had done its best to get his masters attention, showing him drawings of monsters it had written on paper to no avail.

Marianne thought seeing his friends would make Valdemar happier, but it had only caused him further anguish.

Marianne thought that maybe sharing a dream with him would give her insight into his trouble, but Valdemar couldnt find sleep. Even late into the night he simply gazed at their bedrooms metal ceiling. Since they had removed the painted field to let him sleep normally, the walls had turned gray and lifeless again. Marianne couldnt help but notice the symbolism.

Ktulu had long gone to sleep, snoring lightly. But his master remained awake.

Valdemar, Marianne whispered from her bed, her eyes glancing at his own above her head. Valdemar, you need to sleep. The Sabbath is tomorrow.

No answer. But she knew he wasnt deaf yet.

Valdemar, please talk to me, Marianne pleaded, enraged that she couldnt make a headway. Watching her friend suffering in silence while unable to reach out to him frustrated her more than anything else. Tell me whats wrong.

A letter fell from the side of Valdemars bed above, which Marianne caught. The writer had used luxurious ink and wrote with the precision and confidence of a superior talking to an inferior. No spell was woven into the paper, nor was it signed or marked in any way. Perhaps the sender intended to remain somewhat anonymous.

To whom it may concern,

If you are reading this, then my sincerest apologies; for I cannot be of assistance.

Please do not be offended by my answer. I have nothing against you personally, but I know our common acquaintance very well and I refuse to be involved in any scheme of his except to ruin it.

I suppose some explanations are in order. I can confirm to you that his story about the past is true, from a certain point of view; and more to the point, that he is utterly obsessed with this realm of Light. He has made terrible sacrifices in its pursuit, and we split when I refused to become one of them. Our common acquaintances had many disciples, but few survived his patronage. My colleague split with him on amicable terms because though they pursued different goals, they did not conflict directly; but I could not, cannot coexist with our common acquaintance.

As you have already surmised, I did restore a door under his tutelage beneath my house; I sought it to summon slaves from across the planes, but he desired to make use of the device in a way that I felt risked the ruin of our entire civilization. Not as a primary intent, of course; but as a potential side-effect he was more than happy to deal with in the pursuit of his Light. Make no mistake, we are all expendable to him in the name of his dream. All of us.

Hence I forever closed the path to deny him his wish and we have been bitter foes ever since. I would have destroyed him if I could, but it is impossible as long as his mortality remains hidden and it was my word against his. Even now, at the zenith of my strength, I am but a shadow of his power. Survival is victory in itself.

Unable to destroy him, I settled on destroying all other doors I could find to spite him. Understand that I did this with a heavy heart, for the resources therein could have made me the greatest of our kind; but he simply cannot be allowed to get his hands on them.

If you have access to a door I have missed, I would be thankful if you could destroy it at the first opportunity. I cannot yet say what place you fill in his plan, but he most certainly has one.

Someone of your ability is clearly above the rabble I easily deal with and I would rather have you as an ally, but if you indulge our common acquaintance, I will have to kill you. Depending on the facts at hand, I might even ask for your execution during the Sabbath. With heavy regrets of course.

But who knows what the future holds?

With my warmest regards,

Your predecessor.

Who sent this letter? Marianne asked as she finished reading. Lord Phaleg? My ears are sharp, Valdemar, and I can read on the lips of others. I know you tried to make contact with him.

Her friend didnt respond.

He was talking about the Pleromian portals, wasnt he? Marianne guessed. Lord Och has the last one, and youre afraid he will sacrifice the others to activate it? Because he has no other option? Is that what you are afraid of?

This time, Valdemar answered.

Do you think, he said, his voice tired, that all life is equal? Is my life equal to yours? To Hermann? To Liliane?

Marianne considered the question for a long while. Yes, she said. Yes, I believe it. All life is equally precious.

Then, he replied, is it okay to take a life if it threatens ten more?

If there is no other solution then yes. Marianne would have no regret striking down Shelley or Otto Blutgang in the name of the greater good. Valdemar, what are you trying to tell me?

Instead of answering, Marianne heard Valdemar climb down from his bed to stand next to her own. He was wearing nothing but his pajamas, his eyes as hollow as the caverns of Underland.

Marianne sat on her mattress and gave Valdemar enough space to do the same. The summoner hesitated before doing so and didnt speak immediately. He joined his hands and looked at the ground as if gazing at something far below the earth, his expression thoughtful.

Do you think there is anything special about being born? Valdemar finally asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

Marianne almost opened her mouth to answer, but decided to hold on. Instead, she waited for him to fill the silence, and truly say all that weighed on his mind.

The universe is made of death, Valdemar stated as if it were a fact. This is its natural state and life is an anomaly. We are all the rogue cells of a larger organism, granted self-awareness through a cosmic fluke.

Thats why life is all the more precious, Marianne argued. Because we were so lucky to be born.

Luck? He snorted in response. Whether you do good or evil, so long as you live in this shell of a world, you end up in the Outer Darkness. Whether you die a saint or a monster, everyone suffers. Life is Hells antechamber.

Was that why he was so troubled? Why now? Valdemar had known for days, and though the truth had shaken him, he hadnt despaired either.

Marianne grabbed the soulstone necklace around her neck which she always kept on herself at all times. Has Jrmes soul fallen into this vortex of souls? She suddenly wondered, clutching her soulstone. Was he screaming for release as Qlippoths devoured him? She had tried not to think of it much, but now that she did

Not all souls end up in the Outer Darkness, Valdemar, Marianne said, but the argument felt so weak even to herself.

For the wealthy, you mean? Valdemar sighed. Even so, they are only delaying the inevitable. Their soulstones are no more than a crack away from shattering and our civilization has been fighting horrors for centuries. But for how many more years? How long until the dam breaks and the water pours through?

Maybe it wont, Marianne said and cursed herself. Why couldnt words come to her as easily as swords?

Im Valdemar gathered his breath, but didnt raise his head. Im just asking myself Why try to do good when nothing matters? Why be good when our efforts are for naught?

Now Mariannes voice turned to steel. Dont you dare say that, she said, her tone briefly shaking him out of his despair. Our work was never in vain. Is this about Blutgang?

In a way, he confessed. We changed nothing.

We destroyed his facility and ruined his plans.

We delayed them and Otto still lives. You said it yourself, even Lord Bethors advance in his territory is unlikely to change the status quo.

Marianne bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say. She feared her friend had drowned too deep in his own sorrow, but she refused to let him sink further. To deny evil a victory is a victory for good in itself.

He locked eyes with her. Is that the best we can hope for? he asked. Not to win for ourselves, but to deny the enemy his victory?

The moment Marianne opened her mouth to answer, she suddenly noticed water building up at the edge of her friends eyes.

He was struggling to hold back tears.

Why do people like Och and Blutgang get away with everything while I Valdemar gritted his teeth, wiping away his tears. Why

Marianne immediately moved to his side, her hands moving to his shoulders. She was not good with physical comfort, so the contact was clumsy. She sensed the emotional tension in his muscles, the weight he carried.

Valdemar, whats happening? Marianne asked softly, holding him close to herself. Please, tell me. I swear, I I wont tell anyone else.

I have enough of this Valdemars voice broke. Every time I try to improve things, I get a kick in the face first with the inquisitors then this cult the Derros now Och. It doesnt matter what I try they always get away with all their crimes, while everyone else rots in this hellish place the fire devours them all. Each time I confront monsters, I fail. If I cant ruin their schemes What hope do I have against the likes of the Strangers?

He clenched his fists, his fingers trembling.

I thought reaching Earth could make it all better, he said, so weakly. The sun but to get here, I somebody has to die. Theres no other way. They destroyed all the others.

You dont know that, Marianne protested. The Dark Lords could have missed a Pleromian portal, and even if they havent, maybe another spell could open the way.

Which one? he asked, begging for an answer.

But Marianne had none to give. I I dont know, Valdemar. Im not the best person to ask.

Her friend sighed and looked back at the ground in utter defeat.

But Marianne refused to let him wallow in bitterness. Bertrand, she said.

He frowned in confusion, though he didnt look at her. What, Bertrand?

I thought we had no hope of curing him not too long ago, Marianne explained. But you and Liliane found a possible solution.

He snorted in skepticism. Its only a chance.

But beforehand we had none. Marianne cleared her throat. Valdemar, it is not because nobody has found the solution to a problem yet that it doesnt exist.

Thats what I tried to tell myself, Valdemar replied. But each day I stall trying to find an alternative is a day we spend trapped in his hellhole. If all lives are equal, then I have a pretty big tab.

She slapped him.

It was a light, but his cheek turned red from the blow all the same. Valdemar coughed in surprise, looking at Marianne in the eyes.

Marianne gritted her teeth in disappointment. Have you forgotten who you are, Valdemar?

He winced as if she had slapped him again.

The first time we met, you were tied to a torture device in an inquisitors cell, Marianne reminded him. Threatened with punishment or death. Yet in spite of the taunts and the humiliations, of the mockery and wounds, you insisted that Earth existed. That opening gates to other worlds was possible. And eventually, you proved it. You painted a door to another universe.

Lord Och said it couldnt

Lord Och believes in nothing. Of course he is the one behind this mess, Marianne thought with anger. Her wary respect for the lich had further soured away into disdain. Ive seen his true face when he tortured the Pleromian. For all of his power, Och is a small, petty creature who only finds joy in tormenting others. Edwin was completely right, he has given up on all that makes us good long ago. And I will say it again, as far as I am concerned, that makes you ten times the man that he is.

Marianne grabbed Lord Phalegs letter, showing it to Valdemar.

This paper? she asked. Iren brought it to you, after you saved him from death and who knows many others. Just as you saved lives by denying Blutgang access to his portal. So dont you ever say you worked for nothing, because you helped make this hellhole a better place.

This world is a mess, he hissed.

Then keep making it better, Marianne snarled back before tossing the letter away. Youve already helped Hermann invent his own private universe. This world is neither hopeless nor just, it just is. If youre not happy with it, then change it. Or do your best to try.

Its ridiculous.

Youre one who kept saying impossible was but a word. Or have you forgotten that too?

Her words were harsh, but for the first time since he returned to her, Valdemars sorrow seemed to fade. Doubt crept in, his eyes glancing away and back to her as he considered her words.

Marianne put her hands on his cheeks, gently forcing him to look into her eyes. She wiped away the last tears and soothed the spot where she had slapped him.

Dont become like Lord Och, Valdemar, Marianne pleaded. Be better than he is.

The ember of hope flared back in his hollow gaze. You think I can?

Yes, I do, Marianne replied without hesitation, a smile on her face. I believe in you.

As Marianne spoke, she watched Valdemars gaze regain its life and purpose. The veil of despair that had overtaken his heart was slowly lifted as she gave him hope in a better future once more. Once he had helped her clear her own doubts about Jrme, and she was doing the same with his own clouded mind.

Thanks, Valdemar simply said, a new strength in his voice. I will try.

Do not try, she said softly. Just do it.

It made him chuckle, and Marianne realized she had never heard a more wonderful sound. His fingers moved to her sides, resting on the bedsheet as they faced each other. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

And then Valdemars mouth started moving closer still.

So did her own.

Marianne didnt know why, but her head moved on its own to mirror her companions motion. Perhaps it was desire or confusion, but her lips touched his own. A shiver traveled through her cheeks as they kissed, her enhanced sense of touch gathering every tactile sensation. She felt his heartbeat beneath the skin, his warmth, his short breath, and his doubts.

The kiss was clumsy, impulsive. It lasted only a second before Valdemar pulled back. He gathered his breath, seemingly surprised at what he had just done. He looked like a man who had woken up a dragon.

Marianne herself breathed heavily. Doubts flooded her mind. She thought of Jrme, of Bertrand, of the cult, and Lord Och. Of the Dark Lords and the Sabbath, about the troubles ahead, about the danger of the situation, the shakiness of their association. She worried about what this kiss would mean for them, how it might ruin their budding friendship or end in tears. Her breath reeked of anxiety, of fear, of doubts and unspoken terrors.

Then they kissed again, and Mariannes worries faded like mist.

The second kiss lasted longer, and though clumsy it was no longer full of hesitation. There was only desire and tenderness, warmth and oneness. Marianne forgot about the Strangers and the Light.

She just wanted him.

Her hands moved to remove his clothes and his own clumsily brushed against her underwear. He broke the kiss abruptly, his breath heavy.

You dont want to? Marianne whispered.

I want it, Valdemar replied without hesitation. But it would change so much.

Valdemar, right now She moved to whisper in his ear. The world is just the two of us.

Her words dispelled his doubts, and his fingers moved to unclothe her.

When they were naked, they joined beneath the bedsheet. Marianne tasted his sweat as she kissed him, heard his blood pumping as his hands brushed against her breasts. She smelled him, all of him, and shivered as his lips touched her, explored her, devoured her. She shivered as her legs crossed behind him, and gasped as her hands guided him inside her.

They made love in the flesh and in the dream.

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