The center of Bloom of Misery was no longer a place of stone and mortar it had become a swirling vortex of fractured memories and leaking shadows. The Mad Jester ran through the dissolving streets feeling the Night Falcon feather burning against his skin like a branding iron. The war he had ignited between Lilith and Morgana raged in the distance a sky filled with emerald lightning and crimson silk but here at the Grand Fountain the silence was louder than any explosion.
The fountain which once depicted the First King was now a jagged wound in the earth. The Primeval Blood wasnt just leaking it was erupting in slow rhythmic pulses that smelled of ancient starlight and the birth of a cold universe.
Standing at the edge of the abyss were the Guild enforcers led by the Elder Brother. They were holding massive brass condensers trying to capture the silver vapor rising from the blood. But they were struggling. The reality around them was flickering making their bodies appear translucent and then solid again.
The Mad Jester didn't wait for an invitation. He leaped from the ruins of a nearby clock tower his tattered coat snapping in the chaotic wind. He landed between the Guild and the fountain his bells giving a flat dead thud that seemed to momentarily stabilize the air.
The performance is over Elder Brother he shouted his voice echoing with a manic resonance. The audience is dead and the theater is burning. Its time to let the lady speak for herself.
The Elder Brother looked at him with eyes that were now entirely black. You are a fool Cassian. You think you are a hero but you are just a fly buzzing around a collapsing sun. We are the only ones who can contain her. If she wakes fully your precious city will be nothing but a memory in a dead gods mind.
The Mad Jester giggled his head tilting at a sharp angle. Then let us see what the dream is made of.
He ignored the enforcers and turned toward the center of the fountain. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Night Falcon feather. The moment the feather came near the Primeval Blood the world vanished.
The Elder Brother the enforcers and the city of Bloom of Misery disappeared.
Cassian found himself standing in a void of pure white light. There was no scent here which was the most terrifying thing he had ever experienced. It was a sensory vacuum. In the center of this void sat a girl who appeared to be no older than fourteen. She wore a dress made of woven starlight and her hair flowed around her like liquid shadow. This was the daughter of the First King the soul trapped in the Aetheric Seal.
She wasnt crying. She wasnt screaming. She was staring at a single white lily in her hand.
You smell of circus sawdust and fear the girl said. Her voice didn't come from her mouth it resonated directly in Cassians mind. You are the one who has been sniffing at my prison.
Cassian felt his Mad Jester persona falter. In the presence of this ancient entity the mask felt heavy and absurd. He pulled it off revealing his pale sweat-streaked face. I am Cassian Fleur. I came to stop them from harvesting your sorrow.
The girl looked up her eyes were two perfect mirrors reflecting every version of Cassian that had ever existed. You think I am a victim she whispered. You think the Guild is the one keeping me here.
The white lily in her hand suddenly turned black and began to bleed. The Guild is a gnat Cassian. They take the crumbs of my dreams to power their little world. I stayed here because the world outside was too loud too filled with the stench of your petty cruelties. But the seal is breaking because I am bored of the silence.
Cassian felt a jolt of pure terror. The girl wasnt a battery being used by the Guild she was the source that was tired of being contained. The Primeval Blood at the fountain was her way of reaching out and touching the world again.
If you wake up everyone dies Cassian said his voice trembling.
Then they should have built a better world the girl replied.
She stood up and the white void began to crack. Through the cracks Cassian could see the real Bloom of Misery being swallowed by shadows. The Night Falcon feather in his hand began to disintegrate turning into black dust that merged with his own skin.
Cassian realized then what Victor the philosopher had meant. To save the world he had to reconcile with her. He didnt need to fight her he needed to give her a reason to stay or a way to leave that didnt involve destruction.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small plain glass vial. It was the only thing he had left that wasn't a weapon or a chemical. It was the base of his very first perfume a simple scent of rain on warm stone.
I cannot give you a world without cruelty he said stepping toward her. But I can give you this. It is a memory of a moment when the world was just beginning to breathe.
The girl stared at the vial. For the first time the scentless void was pierced by a tiny needle-point of fragrance. The smell of the rain.
She reached out and touched the glass. The black lily in her other hand began to glow with a soft silver light. The cracks in the void slowed their spread.
A small joke for a long night she whispered a ghost of a smile appearing on her face.
The world exploded in a flash of blinding starlight.
Cassian opened his eyes to find himself lying on the cold stones of the fountain. The Elder Brother and his enforcers were gone vanished into the shadows. The fountain was still there but the Primeval Blood had retreated back into the earth. The sky was still filled with the remnants of the witches war but the air felt different. It felt lighter.
He looked at his hand. The Night Falcon feather was gone but his skin where it had been was now marked with a permanent black tattoo of a quill. He could still smell everything but the manic edge of the Jester was now balanced by a strange ancient calm.
He wasn't a hero. He hadn't won. He had simply bought the city a little more time.
Cassian Fleur stood up and looked toward the horizon. The Guild would be back. Lilith and Morgana would want answers. But as he adjusted his tattered coat he felt the weight of the porcelain mask in his bag. The Jester was still there and the girl in the starlight was now watching the world through his eyes.
The play was far from over.