Into These Waters of My Soul

The demon counterpart clicks with his darkness or his bones — there is no telling which. White and black come together: now the darkness appears in clots, now it glows with an aura; he is surrounded by metaphysical colours, tendrils, rays, and spots that widen and then disappear, forming the very elegance of being. It is Nothing that peers out from the narrowed eye sockets of the sharply carved skull. Great and paradoxically personal. It seems to have hatched from the circle of the skull — an egg of the universe — just for him, for Sebastian. Sebastian peers into it, seeing nothing but the Void, yet he can feel that he sees everything that every seeker needs to see before he dies for something meaningful. The one who sees the Void will never be human again. There is no turning back. Sebastian is assured that the painting can only be finished when the artist destroys it. In the end, it was thanks to the child’s cradle and the woman’s womb that he could discover quite early that the Void is everywhere. It is in everything. This is evidenced — in equal parts — by the eyes of the devil as much as by the maddened eyes of the mother who has lost her child and by the eyes of the beloved woman. Life is like a film on a reel. Great lie and joke. The actors play with enthusiasm; the reality of the motion picture is constantly moving somewhere, although it is enough to come into the hall to see that the film will end and the screen will go dark. Nothing will be left. Emilia was his bloody ticket to the hall. Sebastian has proved that he is now a worthless actor. Wretched. Disgusting. With him, every film will be ugly, full of anguish and horror; nothing will go according to the script, things will but follow whatever comes into his fevered mind. Now he is just a bored critic. Unbearably… unbearably bored. With nothing to hold on to. How much longer will this personal film continue? A year, ten years, thirty years? And after that, a new film will begin. All the same. The same human beings, the same jokes, feelings, and tragedies. Pretence. A vile joke on a cosmic scale. A soap bubble. Bang! Nothing’s left… THE VOID. If the demon had asked little Sebastian all those years ago, after the scene with the pillow, the latter would have answered, I left the stage, and now I can only watch the game, but… there is a trick here. I found it. And what is it? He, of course, wouldn’t wanted to answer. Perhaps this is something that no one is ready to face. This is why Sebastian lies when he works and writes a lot, when he loves a lot, or when he tries to do whatever helps him through the bitterness of life. One may say that he consciously chooses illusions; he has nothing against films and dreams. He prefers bitter dramas or horrors — comedies and melodramas quickly tire him and irritate, there is never anything behind them. There is nothing more real behind them than behind a drama. A one-man show is what life is. It is a sinking ship sailing to Nowhere. A ship that does not exist. There are no waves, no sails, no captain. Not even a spectator. There is no one. This is the answer the counterpart came to hear. It is curious how many sleepless nights the author spent, but the realisation — like a bolt of lightning — came to him only now as Sebastian watched Ciel. Ciel’s neck is thin, like an elegant touch of a brush to reality; the young man strokes it somehow meekly. His eyes are fixed on an encyclopaedia, but he knows for sure that he is being secretly watched; his eyes never look up, and his mouth is slightly open to utter the words in a soundless whisper. His lips move seductively, and his eyelashes tremble. The way too bold shadows fall on his milky knee, covering it like a napkin. Sebastian is willing to watch this film forever; this is what he will never get tired of. However, the demon laughs at his naivety. I am still fighting, says the man, hoping that he is not pronouncing the words out loud. He hears a fetid, grinding sound — a hoarse, heavy breathing that comes out of a beast-like chest. This is the counterpart mocking him. The wretch has only one word on his mind — boredom, but Sebastian is still holding on to another. Love. “The Holy Father told me that monsters need love more than anyone else in the world, that is why they are monsters, but you… I don’t know how to love you. Or if I ever can. Even though I’m your mother.” Oh yes, even back then, on the day of his experiment with Death, little Sebastian realised what he was. Or rather, what he was not. His mother did everything she could to root out the monster, and she died. Victoria did nothing, but she was skilful at running away. A magic game of hide-and-seek. They never noticed the passage of time. And there he is, a grown demon, an omnipotent shadow that breathes behind Gabriel’s back and glares at Sebastian with his whole being; he is all shadows of the world, he is all darkness. I am you, and you are me. Gabriel leant towards his brother. After Ciel and Sebastian returned to the others, the first sat aside from everyone to read the encyclopaedia. Gabriel and Elizabeth had finished the painting that one might have called pretty good if not for the auguring artists and their fight between roughness and lightness. The paradise seen by the girl turned into something shapeless in one place and too clear and sharp in the other. A jagged, angular, spotted, and blurred little world. “As if someone washed it with a soap,” said Madam White. Miss Elizabeth shrugged: “I should have done like I wanted instead of listening to Gabriel. I am surprised how it came out like this… it is not pretty.” The madam sighed, “I always told my girls that one should listen to the heart, but not the ear, no!” Sebastian looked at them, smiling a little, but only because he had probably noticed Ciel’s careful attention to his person. His strange anxiety would have remained a mystery if not for Gabriel, who looked into the book. “Don’t tell me, Ciel, that you found a cone. They are very poisonous!” The book was hurriedly closed. Ciel was distrustful and cautious, that’s why he needed to make sure: no, Sebastian didn’t lie to him, and yes, his own persistence could kill the man. The pad of his index finger, which he carelessly cut on a sheet of paper, was a sacrifice to this knowledge. However, nobody noticed it — the right words reached Madam White’s hearing, and her booming voice alarmed a flock of birds in the distance. “A cone?!” exclaimed the woman, her eyes bulging out. “A terrible thing! I’ve heard a Frenchman died last year. They couldn’t save him. One moment the man lived and the next he was gone, and all — who would have thought — because of a minuscule thing! One accidental step was all it took it. Truly, the Lord’s imagination is a mystery! And you, young man, are hunting for your shells! Leave it to the old, who have nothing to do anymore. These are dangerous things. Better enjoy your youth, enjoy your life. Oh, these young little creatures! Do you agree with me, Sebastian?” The madam narrowed her eyes and sighed. “Who if not us, old people, can understand the value of youth and the dangerous unnecessariness of trinkets?” The apt word old, even if meant as a joke, stuck into the atmosphere with the scrupulousness of a sand grain. Like a whip. Like poisonous juice splashing out of a fruit. It touched the elegant ears and came through them inside. Young. Old. Time. Sand. Water… The second word was lain upon the image of the man whom the blue eyes could see against the sky and a flock of seagulls. Deep down in his mind, the gap between them became clearer — what if Ciel didn’t think about it or didn’t feel it? Sebastian didn’t like it. Now Mrs. White caused him disgust. Now she was his enemy. By noon, the sun had become unbearable, and everyone hurried away from the sea.

***

“What colour will you choose this time?” Sebastian asked Ciel. They were choosing their mounts in the stables. The twins had signalled to each other with glances and nods. The man could only wait for the command. Another game with transformations. How intriguing. Ciel became wary and concentrated, like a man who had been indirectly warned that he was about to be thrown into the depths of water, and he was only willing to give in for a very good reason. Behind his every move — be it stroking a horse or sliding his hand against a tree — there was extreme uncertainty. The young man often looked back at Gabriel and Elizabeth, who were choosing the horses at the far end of the stables. The girl’s ringing, yellow, and sunny laughter could be heard in the air when a groom gave her a piece of carrot to feed the animal. How lovely. A scene from a wonderful day. There were horses of all colours, but Ciel, of course, was choosing between the two. It couldn’t be otherwise. The dream. The hazy images. The crossroads. “The white one,” he answered almost in a whisper and hesitantly stroked a miniature Arabian. The horse snorted and cocked up her plush ears. With her legs thin and twitchy like tense rods, she was fast. The man raised his brows. “White again?” “It was just a dream, wasn’t it? You take this one.” “The black?” “I think he’s yours. He suits you.” “Well, if you think so…” Sebastian gestured for the groom to come. He and Ciel stepped aside to let the horses be brought out. “You look discomfited, Ciel,” said Sebastian. “You don’t want to make this farce, do you?” “I don’t, but I have no choice. Get ready, by the way. You are ready, aren’t you? If everything goes right, they will finally be reconciled.” “Do you believe it? That everything should be this way?” Ciel turned his head to the side and stroked his neck. “Who am I to judge? I don’t know anything about it.” “Don’t know about what?” Suddenly, Sebastian wanted to hear the word come from his lips. “About love. Love always means sacrificing and risking. Perhaps… I will just help them, that’s it. And so will you.” Sebastian only smiled. The saddled horses were taken outside. Ciel and Gabriel began a friendly argument, deciding to exchange their horses, and while Sebastian was telling Elizabeth about his favourite horse that he had in the days of his youth, which, alas, broke its leg in a ravine — a devil of a horse it was — the twins naturally and cunningly switched places. Along with their change of places, there was that subtle transformation of their expressions and postures that could deceive anyone. Anyone, but not the demon. Elizabeth and Sebastian turned to them. The girl, without thinking, spoke to Ciel who was now his brother. “I suggest riding to the forest.” “Weren’t we going to ride to the sea?” he said. “Ah, Gabriel, we have been there today!” Ciel, who was playing Gabriel, mounted the Arabian filly that he had chosen himself. Sebastian put a finger to his chin and exhaled dramatically. “It seems to me, miss, that the twins have decided to play us again.” “Why do you think so?” Elizabeth asked in surprise. “This horse was chosen by Ciel. The young men have just agreed to change the animals; however, it is Ciel who’s taking it. They are lying.” The grassy eyes flashed brighter; they warily examined two identical faces. “Is it true?” “Again?” said Gabriel quietly. “What do you think, Elizabeth? Which one of us is which? The last word is yours. I am sure you can tell it.” “But I… I asked you…” However, Miss Elizabeth had to turn to her fiancé, which left her no choice whether to solve the riddle or not. They were the two young men playing each other with almost impeccable precision: one mounted on the white horse, the other on his feet and looking lost. His whole posture was speaking of one thing — he felt uncomfortable in the big world and seemed to want to apologise for being here and now. “Gabriel, it’s you.” The girl raised her head to the rider. “If you thought that you could play me, you were wrong.” Ciel smiled widely. He was about to congratulate Elizabeth, who became his fiancée for a time, but Sebastian spoke first. “No,” he said firmly, “I’m sure that it is Ciel who’s sitting on the horse, and I can prove it.” Ciel looked into Sebastian’s face with curiosity and apprehension, his blue eyes shouting, “Stop it right now!”, but Sebastian pretended that he didn’t notice it. Gabriel’s eyes flashed caustically, but, playing the role, he could only say quietly: “Try it, Mr. Michaelis. If you aren’t afraid.” “Miss, do you remember Ciel reading the encyclopaedia this morning when we were on the beach?” “Yes, he was indeed reading; he often reads something,” answered the girl. Now she looked very confused, vaguely resembling Ciel. “You see,” the writer smiled, “I happened to notice how he was careless enough to cut the index finger of his right hand with the sharp paper. We can see which of the twins is which; they only need to show their hands.” At this news, the lady’s face flushed like a fig: the mere thought that she could confuse her fiancée with his brother — again! — plunged her into the abyss of despair. “Well, Gabriel,” she whispered bitterly, “if you are doing it again, I swear that I…” That would mean a great trouble. A grievance that would grow into something bigger. Gabriel hastily hid his right hand behind his back and ran his palm over the horses’ rump before laughing lightly and timidly to mimic his shy twin. “A finger? I… I believe our difference lies in riding. Only Gabriel can ride a horse so well, isn’t right, Elizabeth? Oh! Careful!” Suddenly, the animal reared up, its front legs flailing. It moved backwards, bulging its oily eyes, and then darted away as if stung, a pillar of dust rising into the air. All Ciel could do was bend down and grab the reins. Under different circumstances, they might have heard him cry for help, but the actor was brave enough to make no sound: either he was confused or chose not to expose his brother. Gabriel shouted, alarmed: “Gabriel, stop it! Lizzie can get scared!” The rider’s silhouette was rapidly moving away. Feeling guilty, “Ciel” added bitterly: “He is probably doing this to save me from getting embarrassed in front of everyone…” Meanwhile, Sebastian jumped on the black horse and rushed to follow the boy. The snow mare didn’t run but flew above the ground, leaving behind a sparkling world. Ciel pressed himself against it, shrinking. Fearful, he seemed to have stopped breathing. For a moment, Sebastian could hear his voice, but it was faint and quiet, like an echo. The horses ran across a field that was aglow with the sizzling air and hit the eye with the variety of grasses, and then, like bullets, they entered the forest. The Arabian jumped over a small pit, and Ciel almost fell out of the saddle. “Hold on!” Sebastian shouted as he mercilessly spurred his stallion on. “Faster, faster!” “I can’t stop it!” came the voice from ahead. “It won’t listen!” It was a miracle that the low branches did not cut his face open — the frightened rider had ducked down. The black stallion caught up with the white mare and began to approach. The Arabian moved to the side; Ciel seemed about to fall. The path ahead was narrow, and so the man was forced to take his ride aside, which was a risk of never reaching him in time. The speeding horse seemed to have lost its mind; if it had been some other mount, Gabriel’s trick might have worked at half strength, but this one was the most nervous of all. Ciel chose it himself. White. The white horse from his dream. I thought that it would take me somewhere nice. Was it the demon’s doing? Finally, Sebastian grabbed the reins and stopped the rushing horse. Wheezing. Stomping in place. Heavy breathing — human, frightened, and bestial. “Are you alright?” The man dismounted and helped Ciel down. The mare tried to pull the reins but was restrained. “Honestly, it got me scared,” the young man whispered, taking a deep breath. His soft cheeks were burning, and his eyes looked bigger than their usual. They were sparkling chaotically, brightly, like stars. His hands were shaking. “You saved me.” Sebastian sat Ciel in front of him on the black horse, leading the Arabian beside them by the reins. “Do you understand why this happened?” he asked. Breathing was harder for him now than for the unfortunate rider — the mere fact of having Ciel so close and feeling his warm back against his chest excited him beyond imagination. “The horse is mad,” Ciel answered. “I’ve never been lucky with horses. Father says — just like does Madam White — that horses possess a keen sense of their riders.” Déjà vu. “You didn’t even ask for help, though you were frightened.” “If I had screamed, it would have been obvious which one of us was which.” “What a foolish self-sacrifice. Your games with your brother have gone too far. You should stop it.” “Gabriel has nothing to do with it. But I saw that you didn’t confuse us on purpose, although you were asked to play along.” “You didn’t seem to like being confused. Besides, I couldn’t dare call you someone else… I am afraid, Ciel, that I will never be able to confuse you with anyone else.” “You are talking nonsense.” “Perhaps. But I hope that it felt nice for you at least a little.” “For me?.. It turned out badly, you and I have set Gabriel up. Now he is going to be mad.” “Set up? You said it was unfair to play with the girl.” “Yes, but it is only my opinion.” “And I’m completely on your side. Constantly following your brother’s lead without considering your own interests… It is a foolish game.” “Brothers are supposed to be this way. And are you sure that all games are actually games?” “Play if you feel like it, but let me at least sometimes get you out of the sandbox.” “There is no need for it. This is about Gabriel and I. You can’t understand it because you’ve never had a brother.” “That’s true. Much less a twin, and I am frightened to imagine what would come of it.” “I’m sure that you would never be like me.” “In the Michaelis family, we had a rule: only the strong survive.” “Why do you think that this is any different in my family?” “Ah, yes, looks can be deceiving. Well then… change your expression; your fiancée is near, and you are all trembling. Gabriel and Elizabeth had ridden to meet them. “Gabriel, are you alright?” The twin dismounted, doing it extremely awkwardly as Ciel would do. “I was so scared!” the girl exclaimed heartedly. “Ciel thought that you were playing along!” “Oh… to tell the truth, I wasn’t.” The boy smiled. “I could handle it myself — a wild horse, this one! — but Mr. Michaelis backed me up and insisted that I get off it. He believes the animal has problems with its nerves and that it is unruly.” He petted the black stallion on the neck and smiled boldly. “Everything is fine, Lizzie. It’s nothing.” “I was worried all the same! It’s good that Mr. Michaelis stopped you.” Ciel chose to ignore this part, exchanging glances with his brother, who was aptly imitating concern on his face. He smirked again. “So what about the cut? I think we were talking about a delicate matter that could compromise me.” Apparently, Gabriel had cut his finger with the grass, as he immediately demonstrated the fresh wound. “My brand,” he said before giving them a quiet, guilty smile. “Elizabeth guessed right, and Mr. I-can-tell-twins-apart was unexpectedly wrong.” “Things happen.” Sebastian smiled at “Ciel.” “I hope that I can be forgiven for such a mistake.” “It is for the lady to decide.” Elizabeth brightened. She seemed to be feeling like the happiest girl in the world. “I told you that I would not confuse you anymore! Maybe once, but no more!” “Indeed. Who if not a loving person, a fiancée, can solve the mystery of twins? I cannot possibly compete with it.” Sebastian smiled. He would have loved to see Ciel’s face at that moment, but he couldn’t. The young man dismounted. They returned to change Ciel’s — Gabriel’s — horse to another. This time, he wasn’t choosing his mount for long. In the stables, the twins switched places again to become their own selves. They said no word to each other for the rest of the ride. Ciel stayed close to Sebastian while Gabriel and Elizabeth rode nearby. The girl distracted everyone with trifles: birds, plants, and deer. She was filled with lightness and enthusiasm, for she had proved her love to be one of the true kind. So she believed.