Into These Waters of My Soul

She was his own victory — a woman with a supple name that rolled on the tip of the tongue. Victoria. They called her a saint, and an angel branded the bottom of the emerald wells of her eyes with the light of virtue, the kind of which the humankind, perhaps, did not deserve. Sebastian could effortlessly imagine the expression on his mother’s face if only she was alive. “You and her — impossible!” A devil and an angel could not be together. But nothing was impossible. The skin that Sebastian had to fit into squeezed him until his bones crunched. His own skull, his jaws, his limbs, his muscles, his spine, his insides oozing with sarcastic juice, and his hot lymph — down to every last bit of his skin and his hair — he rented out and tucked away under the other person’s guise, like a beast in the belly of a sheep. But patience had its reward. Smiling, he still managed to let loose his inner evil grin, and only under Victoria’s gaze was he white — yes, white, not black. And yet the colour of their life together was gray. Victoria liked to help everyone and give her love that oozed from her like nectar. It was at her request that they often visited orphanages and did charity work. From the first time he met her, Sebastian doubted the reason for the victorious light that emanated from the woman, and sometimes he seemed to see its spring. Every good deed, especially a big one, has its reasons, even when it seems that there are none. That spring would show itself in rare moments of quiet when Victoria was by herself — or so she thought to be — a reflection in a mirror, a strand of blond hair in a child’s pendant, and melancholy, the one that was corrosive and came from the past. At fourteen years old, Victoria was in love with her childhood friend Albert — the name to match her own. He died at a young age from pneumonia; after all, angels are made of crystal. If her nanny had not sensed something wrong at the time and had not stopped her young lady, the devil and the angel would have never been together. A cliff. A storm. A perfect combination for the end of unfortunate love. She would be covered with a pile of rocks, cleansed by a lightning bolt, and torn into shreds by the wind that would scatter her ashes. Sometimes his wife would mutter in her sleep and call for her friend through a nightmare. Even after all those years. “Albert, oh, my Albert.” It was then that Sebastian realised it. I am the opposite of him. It was the only reason she let him close. She didn’t need white. “You don’t have to go with me,” she would say as she was getting ready for a charity ball. “I don’t want you to be all alone there.” Even though he knew that she was honest and loyal to her oath, Sebastian couldn’t help his jealousy. He considered it to be the most innocent part of himself. Victoria was his property, his personal delight, and he despised each and every one who flowed to her light and fed on it like a parasite. She pitied them, warmed them, and loved them. Or so it seemed. Patience had its reward. He was like a dog at the feet of a princess. He liked that entertaining game. It was the same intrigue that he felt with Emilia — his sentence? his punishment? He was meant to serve the innocence of feelings, to serve the angel’s soul. So were his thoughts and his beliefs. Until… the image of Emilia made its home in Victoria’s womb — the thing that his wife desired more than anything. “We are having a baby, Sebastian, a baby! God is kind to us! Ah, I am so happy…” He hated children. He hated their festering, annoying cry, their milky smell, and their irrevocable nature. Children were a smirk of all that was divine. One more unfortunate and helpless creature in a world of fake happiness. One more puppet. But Victoria had never been so happy, so he learnt to accept it. “If it’s a girl, how shall we call her?” she asked him in anticipation and with bliss. And he basked in her smile before he put on a mask of pretence. “Let me think. How about Annabell?” “Annabell,” her small mouth repeated in syllables as she savoured the word. “I like it. I just thought… perhaps it would please you to call her Emilia? After her little sister.” He answered too quickly. “I don’t mind it. But if it’s a boy? How do you like the name Albert?” She never mentioned the name to her husband. Her eyes were filled with fear. “Do you… like this name?” “There’s also Edward. It has a firm sound to it.” “I like Edward.” “And Albert?” “Edward.” “Whatever it is, we have plenty of time to decide.”

***

“Elizabeth and I are getting married next year.” Gabriel cast a curious look at Sebastian. After breakfast, Michalis and the two young Phantomhives had found their way to the living room. The twins were waiting for Miss Elizabeth and their parents to come down. “Peace has abandoned me already, though. Especially after yesterday’s innocent joke.” “Women see such things differently,” noted the man. He and Ciel glanced at each other. “The truth, Mr. Michaelis,” smirked Gabriel, “is that in the eyes of my friend, true love is shrouded in an unbearable… otherworldly radiance. ‘True love is omnipotent, it knows no barriers, it is eternal.’ Well, you know. Ladies’ novels are a real scourge. I’m starting to fear them more than a plague! Could I be pardoned for my ostensive experiment? Probably yes. Last night, Lizzie said that she blamed herself for confusing me with Ciel, but half an hour later, I was the one to blame again. Scoundrel and lair. But isn’t true love supposed to overcome such trifles? Aren’t we supposed to recognise it in a thousand faces? Elizabeth contradicts herself.” The blue eyes flashed with a sarcastic light. “She really does. Of course, I had to give in and admit my guilt. Such naivety is irritating, you know. You were married, Mr. Michaelis, weren’t you?” “I was. Marriage always means responsibility multiplied by responsibility. And yet, I can congratulate you.” By the way Gabriel glanced at Ciel, and by the way Ciel hesitated, trying, shy as he was, to say something, it became obvious that the three of them were not there by coincidence, and Gabriel started the talk for a reason. “In fact, we would like you to do us a favour,” Ciel uttered finally. Today he was wearing a blue suit with shorts, and the boy turned white in it, as if an alabaster flower. Especially against the dark-blue chair in which he had taken his seat to be away from Michaelis — or so the latter saw it. “Well,” the man hummed thoughtfully. He narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for me?” Gabriel bared his teeth in a benevolent smile. All his smiles, like it was with youth that knew about its beauty, were divided into deprecating and condescending. “Elizabeth is extremely upset with me for that trick. The fact that you guessed right only added oil to the fire. That’s why you have to be wrong this time. She will guess right, and you will lose. Simple as that.” “And this is how love, the way she sees it, will be proved,” concluded Sebastian. “As you said, this is a big responsibility. Although Elizabeth won’t show it, her resentment makes itself felt, which is why it will be better if we play this little game. I will be most grateful to you.” “And what do you think?” Sebastian turned to Ciel. The latter was fiddling with a flower in a vase. Burgundy and velvet, it was a perfect match for his white, silky skin. “It is Gabriel’s idea. I’d rather not play with the girl because… it’s unfair. But I know little about these things.” “That’s right, brother.” Gabriel smiled, and it came to Sebastian that he forgot about the third type of his smiles: patronising. It was like that same thick veil that covered Ciel from head to toe. “Sometimes, a little lie can save a great love. Isn’t right, Mr. Michaelis?” “I’m not the one to tell. But I will try to do as you ask.” “Great. Ciel will let you know when it’s time.” They came down to the seaside. Elizabeth was painting a watercooler seascape in her sketchbook while Gabriel was helping her or doing quite the opposite, depending on the way one looked at it. “It needs some roughness.” “And I want lightness. Look around you, Gabriel, it’s like we are in paradise.” “But there are rocks here after all. Roughness, Lizzie.” Vincent and Rachel went for a walk along the shore, and Madam White stayed with Sebastian and Ciel to keep them company. As bad luck would have it. “I cannot walk, my feet are tired from the heat!” complained the madam. Quiet more than usually, Ciel was petting the dog, his fingers tracing the spots that shone in the sunlight. “Do you like dogs?” asked the madam. “Oh yes, I do. Too bad that they don’t like me.” “Why is that?” “They don’t obey me. We had three dogs, and neither did.” “Dogs need to sense a leader,” the madam said in a bombastic voice. She was fanning herself tirelessly, creating a movement of air — a mixture of the salty fragrance of the sea, hot sand, and perfume with some hints of patchouli. One bee got curious and almost sat on her hooked nose. “Shoo, shoo! I’ve never seen a bee fly so close to the sea! There are no flowers here! Now it’s gone!.. Where was I? Ah, even the tiniest chihuahua must know who’s the master in the house, and you, young man, clearly don’t sound like a dog person.” “I’ve never heard of it.” Ciel smiled guiltily. Sebastien intervened: “Something doesn’t make sense in your words, Madam White. For example, I am by no means a dog person, I rather prefer cats, however, dogs, as usual, obey me.” “My words should not be taken literally!” snorted the madam. “And as for you, Mr. Michaelis, I could see the features of a dog person in you as soon as I saw you.” “Such as?” This time, it was the man who smiled. “It’s a secret. Why should I share a secret about dog people with a person who doesn’t admit being one of them?” “Can you teach me?” asked Ciel. “Well, let’s see what you can do. Tell Faust to lie down.” The young man commanded, but the dog pretended not to hear him. At the second command, the dog looked a bit guilty, as if saying, “I’m sorry, but no. At second thought… no. No way, no.” Gabriel said, his voice a bit amused: “Maybe a bee got into his ear, and Faust didn’t hear you?” Ciel turned to his twin, a guilty look in his eyes repeating that of Faust. The madam smiled slyly and waved her fan more zealously. “Now let it be Mr. Michaelis to give the command!” “Oh, I do not like giving commands.” “We are waiting!” “Well, if you insist…” Giving the command was an effortless task for Sebastian to do: the Great Dane carried it out perfectly and lay down with obedience, his ears pressed against his head. Now the dog looked content, like an animal that rejoiced in fulfilling its destiny, without remorse for indifference. The scene said that was how it was meant to be. “See!” exclaimed the madame. “The dog people law in action, and this is not a joke! I could write a work on this fascinating topic!” Gabriel and Elizabeth laughed unusually loudly, like children. “To me!” Gabriel shouted and scratched the dog behind its ear when it approached him. “So our Ciel can’t be helped, Mrs. White?” “I don’t know…” He chuckled. “Well, Ciel, it seems like you’ll have to have a kitten.” “But I’m allergic to cat hair,” the young man sighed. “Life is a cruel thing. You aren’t in the club!” The young man sighted again, bitterly. He rose and turned to Sebastian. “Mr. Michaelis, I want to take a walk. Keep me company.” “With pleasure.” The man got to his feet, brushing the invisible sand off his trousers. However, their company was not of two, but three: the counterpart cracked his bones somewhere nearby. Madam White looked at them with curiosity, as if feeling their figures. “Will you be studying your seashells again?” she asked with a playful complaint, for they were leaving her with the two lovers, which was the same as leaving her alone. Miss Elizabeth was all sweetness that morning. Truly, the eyes of lovers captivate, and their smiles outshine the whole world — one wants to flee into the shadows to hide from their scorching heat. “Perhaps.” Ciel smiled enigmatically and headed to the water. He never looked back at his twin, while Gabriel watched him go. Ciel stepped barefoot into the rolling foam wave, then turned to Sebastian. They were far enough away from the others. “Do you think that my brother is truly in love?” he asked. “Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?” The puny shoulders rose and fell. “Sometimes, it seems to me that if he had a choice…” “Your father said that you have always been inseparable. Are you jealous?” “I don’t know. Perhaps I was a little as a child. Is it wrong?” “Are you sure that I’m the one whom you should ask about wrongs and rights?” Ciel could see the lightness in the expression of his companion’s face; he lowered his lashes guiltily and, for some reason, blushed. “When we talk about other things, I forget about our deal and all that comes with it. I’m sorry.” “On the contrary, it’s nice that you can at least sometimes see me as an ordinary interlocutor.” “How did you sleep last night?” Sebastian could hardly keep himself from smiling: it had been a long time since he last heard such questions. Being under one roof with the magnificence, the mischievous masterpiece of the Creator, having a chance to walk beside him and watch how the sea foam dissolved on the boy’s bare ankles and slipped between his graceful toes… oh, how did he sleep last night? “Better than usual, and you?” The image of his knees, folded hand, and closed eyelids continued in the dream. Sebastian could pray as he pleased — brushing the tangled locks, kissing the hot temples, breaking the sacred word with his lips as he pressed them to the lips of the other. A moan. Amen. The rustle of fabric, and the monstrous paws are about to tear it off into shreds. When greed is not a sin. Greed. Harvest. A moan. Om! Says the beast. Om… Am-men, resists the lamb. These lovely feet shall never touch the beast. An all-too-common, insipid, ironic for the devil word stands between Ciel and the demon. A screen weighing as much as the universe, an anthropomorphic monster made up by the mind of the most desirable of humans. His teeth chatter when the last word sin becomes cold in his mouth and sticks with freezing ink. “Gabriel and I had the same dream,” said Ciel. “Very interesting. Does this happen to you often?” “I only remember one time when we were children. I was sick at the time and couldn’t sleep; Gabriel lay next to me and promised that he wouldn’t sleep until I did. We both dozed off, and we had the same dream. I can’t remember it clearly, but I think we played chess. No wonder, since we often play it. Especially when I am sick.” “What was it this time?” “Horses. In my dream, I was near a cottage in the woods. It felt like I was a peasant child, and for some reason I was scared to come in, as if I knew that there was a monster living there. Then I looked around and saw my salvation — two horses. One of them was a unicorn — don’t laugh, — as if it came from a medieval painting, but more like a deer. It was so fragile that I thought, ‘Unreliable, even though magical’. The other was a large black horse. Horror in the flesh; it snorted and kicked, despite the fact that it was… dead. Its bones were visible, and its head… almost decomposed. The black mane reached down to the ground, steam poured out of the nostrils, and the sides swelled like a pair of bellows. So full of energy… He would take you halfway around the world in no time. What am I saying?” Ciel blushed. “Of course, I decided to ride off on one of them, but I had to choose between the two. Gabriel had a similar dream, except that he stood by a church and the horses were ordinary, but of the same contrasting colours.” “So you both were making a choice.” Ciel nodded. He was highly embarrassed by the situation. It might have started with a need to change a dangerous topic of their conversation, and then, as it came to the depths of his dream, he was suddenly uneasy and even ashamed. As if he was embarrassed by the way he saw the world and by the child he seemed with such nonsense. “If I were you, my choice would be too obvious.” The man smiled a little. “But what did you choose?” “I, too, wanted to take the black horse, but… it scared me, and the unicorn inspired confidence. And yet… I regretted my choice.” “Tell me.” “It’s like riding a donkey with short legs!” The young man laughed to ease his embarrassment, and, without knowing it, he showed how important the dream was. “The unicorn barely took me away from the cottage with the monster. And it was indeed a fairy-tale world, only… fake. And love there was… foolish. And angels were… like leeches.” Sebastian laughed. Ciel smiled and, confident this time, continued: “Gabriel chose a white horse too, but he’s not telling me where it took him. Now I am wondering what would have been if I had chosen the fearsome mount.” “Apparently, you have faced something new and mysterious. However, your habitual way to see things and the fear of the unknown — everything alien and different scares us, doesn’t it? — cover it with the skin of a monster. But now we know that the unicorn is just an ordinary donkey, and the dead horse — oh, what can be worse than death? — may well turn out to be something… acceptable to you. Don’t you think so?” Ciel looked into the narrow, long face. “And the monster inside was waiting for me with hot pies?” He smiled. “And you would live happily ever after,” nodded Sebastian. “You are seeing my point.” “But this is not my way.” “You only look for the right ways to go, don’t you? Are you sure they even exist?” Ciel picked up a pebble from the sand and twirled it in his fingers, wondering, perhaps, what it looked like. The shape of the pebble was strange: it could be a face of a dwarf or an angle from the back, the wings being the flared nostrils of the dwarf. All is not what it seems. The pebble fell into the wave without a sound. “I will even tell you,” Sebastian continued, “what you felt at the moment of choice. Fear of punishment and sense of duty. ‘I must always choose white, it is from God,’ but, in fact, you were drawn to what you twisted and distorted. All by yourself. With your beliefs, your fear, and your duty.” “It isn’t true.” “But you have admitted where this led you.” “I don’t think so anymore. I had to come in and face my fear. Defeat it with my belief. Do you know what?” Ciel suddenly stopped and looked up at Sebastian. His face was unusually calm, that’s why Sebastian saw that it was just an effort. “Now I think that you were the cause of my dream.” “I?” He raised his eyebrows. “You are the beast that I need to defeat.” “Do you believe that I am evil?” “You carry it within you. You came to me for help, and I must help you.” “I see… But being in need for help, for the right friend, and being the embodiment of evil are quite different things.” “Until this time, I was afraid that I would fail, and I was scared to come in. But now that I told you everything — and did so honestly — I realised that we have already chosen the right way. Honesty. I will be honest with you, and you will be honest with me. This is our way, what do you say?” “And prayers?” “I know that you think them foolish, and you were probably laughing when we were doing it, but this is why we will be saying them more often.” “I entrust myself entirely to you, Ciel.” Sebastian smiled softly. The counterpart showed his ugly grin, from ear to ear, like a crescent moon, with a thousand sharp teeth and several forked tongues the colour of cranberry. The right words at the right time. It was not his mouth that said: “I will do whatever you tell me.” Sincerity on the one side and effort of the other. Ciel never looked away. “What if I tell you to throw yourself down from that cliff?” “I will.” “What do you feel?” “For you?” His face turned red, and Ciel moved a little to the side. “No, don’t answer, this is not what I mean!” Sebastian smirked. “You could just say, ‘this is not what I mean,’ but before that, you told me not to answer. Are you afraid to hear it?” “Let’s get back to the question, otherwise, I shall believe that you are avoiding the subject.” “Not at all. So, what feelings of mine are we talking about?” “You so like to obey. What does it make you feel?” “The way I see it, life is an extremely meaningless activity, and only hope and reliance on creatures like you can brighten up its melancholy.” To follow you is the greatest of pleasures. To be your instrument, your tool, your slave, your dog, whatever, but only to be by your side. Always by your side. To revel in your being, your sure — or unsure — alignment of goals and strength. To watch your pure — and not so much — intentions, your victories or your defeats. To watch your transformations. To transform. “Creatures like me? And what is it about me?” “I think you know the answer.” “If you are trying to scare me or lead me astray, then you are wrong. I am sure about my path.” “Of course. You always walk the right path, no matter which one you choose. This is the bitterness of life. Have I told you that there is no good and evil?” Of course, the irony was that there was also no salvation. But looking into the stubbornness of the blue waters of his soul was an ecstasy he wasn’t ready to trade for oblivion. “You have mixed it all up. If we don’t divide good and evil, what will become of life?” Sebastian smiled. “Nothing, as well as nothing will be left of it.” “We all will get what we deserve. Do you know what scares me about you? Despite the fact that you feel bad and call for help, you still continue to turn away from light.” “It’s not true. I would love to pray with you like yesterday.” “Lair. But that should suffice. We will do it every day until a spark of doubt or clarity awakens within you. You know, prayer has always helped me in difficult times, and it will help you too.” “Is that so? I thought it was your twin who helped you.” “He… couldn’t always be there. That’s why I realised, a long time ago, that it is the Lord who will always be there, no matter what. And he is there for you, Sebastian. Even now that you are rejecting Him, He is beside you, just waiting for you to call Him… Why are you looking at me like that?” “It just occurred to me that if God has eyes — and you believe He is anthropomorphic — then the colour of his eyes is blue like yours.” Ciel muttered through his teeth, barely audible, “Stubborn.” Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “I would call it differently, but you have forbidden me to talk about it.” “I have forbidden you nothing.” “And what do you believe God thinks about love? True love? Is it what Miss Elizabeth sees it? Or is it more like your brother’s?” “Stop it, please.” “Truth be told, I was inspired by this idea of telling apart what’s the same. And you?” “Stop it.” “Alright.” “Better get that shell between the stones.” “Here.” For some reason, Ciel didn’t want to talk about love. The salty water, the warm wind, the scorching sun, the duality of their conversation, the barking of a stubborn dog in the distance, and the shadow of the obedient man behind his back — it was too much for him. “After lunch, Gabriel, Elizabeth, and I are going for a ride,” he said. “You are coming too. There, you might have to play along and confuse us. To tell the truth, I don’t get along well with horses; it will be difficult to play Gabriel’s part, for riding is in his blood.” “Then I will have to keep an eye on you. But dogs and horses… is there any creature you get along well with? Except God.” Ciel ignored the question. He threw the shell — the angel wing — into the water and went on. “Does it feel like pain?” “What?” “What sits inside you.” “I think so.” “Do you want to scream?” “No. Do you judge from your own experience?” “I am fine. But… what do you want then?” “To spend a hundred years walking along the shore like this.” “Well then… get that shell too. It’s stuck.” “This one is poisonous.” A word — an order — forcefully pushed into the air. “Get it anyway.” Not a single muscle flinched on his face, even though Ciel was frightened, and he only froze, petrified. It all happened too quickly: the harmlessness of the sand and the simple length of the waves and the words that seemed to have some meaning, and suddenly, there it was — a toy for the devils and angels. Sebastian obediently took the shell with his fingers, its shape resembling that of a conical vase. Conidae. The odds were in his favour: the night sea snail’s harpoon was hidden, but it could pierce the skin at any moment. The counterpart breathes down his neck; he chuckles maliciously and knows for sure what comes next, but he won’t tell it. Being Neptune, he threw the deadly weapon on the sand with his own hands, from the depths of the sea. Ciel’s lashes tremble with a tiny drop of spray, the sun shimmering in it. The young man examines the minuscule death drawn into an asymmetrical, arched cone. It is ornamented with scales like henna. The world inside Sebastian vibrates with an unbearable viscosity of time. He is laid bare by the other’s wing and is about to be gutted. The weightless shell becomes as heavy as a rock or the sky. It is him, Michaelis, Atlas, who obediently lays his head on the block while the wilful fingers brush the hair on the back of his neck. One move — a signal for their God — and the axe will separate the mortal from the mortal. He is impossible. The young man trembles too; he can no longer stop it. The fractions of the moment are like the blow of the shellfish’s harpoon. Death and destiny — is it God’s will or just his word? — come together into a flaming ball of pleasure. He is the judge. And he is giving a verdict to a grown-up man. Why did I order this? How dare I command him? Why? But. “Curious,” he whispers only from his tight, trembling cocoon; he hid his feelings somewhere between the fibres of his soul, held them tight, and now his face and voice show nothing but indifference. Finally, he has begun to understand the game. “Can one die from it?” “One can.” Sebastian never takes his eyes off the burning cheeks and the fiery blue, only now it is profound and pure, like poison. Sebastian pays no heed to the square with the axeman’s block, which is his own palm. The cone is moist and cool. At any moment… “Is it rare?” “I have a gift to find exceptionally rare things.” Breathing is like the forceful pulse of desire. The images of dream are intertwined with what is real: the dead horse — the guide — is breathing behind him, amusing itself. The devil’s head on the black robe says, Honesty, he says. Oh yes, honesty shall bring us to results! The pink hands are squeezed between those of the axeman’s block. This is a trap for angels. A prayer. An order. A dog and a god. Fulfilling what is said is like the meaning of his existence, if he, Sebastian, has not been human since his early years. The deity chosen by Sebastian is innocent in only that it does not yet know himself. During the day, the poisonous cone is asleep, but when darkness comes in through the water, the creature feels the poison that it holds inside and desires to use it. “It’s very… beautiful.” Breathing is like the desire to live. In order to fade away slowly again. “All that is very beautiful is very poisonous,” answers the man. “It is by poison that I decide the grade of beauty. If there is no poison, then this is not what I am looking for and certainly not what is worth living.” The drop of the sea has disappeared from his lashes. Ciel licks his dry lips and looks up at Sebastian. So intently, excitedly. At the bottom of his pupils, the very darkness of the depths splashes chaotically and guiltily. Finally, he says, “Now you may drop it.” The words are spoken slowly, as they should be for someone teasing death. Ciel’s breath catches from the possibility of summoning her as well as from the discovery of another secret pleasure. This is not like playing with a dog. It’s something different. Sealed. Branded. This is stronger than his twin and almost equal to a conversation with the Lord. The forbidden fruit. Once the cone is in the water, its thin tentacle peeks out aggressively. A matter of chance. Destiny. Ciel turns away, never looking at it. He continues on his way and says to his companion: “Are you coming?”