Into These Waters of My Soul

He dreamt of his laughter — ringing, lively, cheerful, yet shy as if it apologised for existing and teasing someone’s nerves. It was struck somewhere on the border of being that of a boy or a man and wouldn’t become something whole. In the dream, Sebastian was the reason for his laughter. They seemed to eat ice cream like during the day; the scene, impossibly real, reenacted the ambient noises and smells. Earlier that day, Sebastian didn’t eat any ice cream, but in the dream, he did and rather eagerly, and everything was so entangled that it was hard to tell if he ate it in reality or not. He was doing it clumsily and seemed to dirty his face with white cream. Sebastian felt ashamed for some reason and said that he had never loved men in his life. But Ciel laughed even harder, so loudly that people looked around at them. One of you is one hell of a lair. This was said by a colossal devil that turned its head with goat horns at them. Sebastian thought, That won’t be me, and Ciel repeated the words with his voice. They met each other’s eyes; Ciel was wearing a cossack and a pectoral cross, and in his eyes, the blue, unsullied innocence was shining bright. Looking up at the man stood an innocent spirit. Within Sebastian, desire ignited, to which the giant black figure responded with bleating. The man woke up.

***

“I’ve read three chapters. I’m reading slowly to understand it better,” said the young man when they met again. It was breakfast. Elizabeth had gone with Gabriel to show him something, and Vincent and Rachel were still in bed. Sebastian had French bread with goose liver and coffee. Ciel ordered bacon and eggs and lemonade. “To tell the truth, I never thought that you would make it further than a page or two,” said Sebastian. This is what he hoped for in his heart. “I have questions to ask. I was hoping you would answer them.” “Right now?” Seeing Ciel with a fork in his mouth reminded him of his dream and a spoon of ice cream, as did the numerous people around them. Perhaps that was why the man reacted the way he did. The boy raised his brows. “What time would be better for you?” “I don’t mind if it’s now.” Sebastian was uneasy. He looked around for the black stranger. No one. “For instance, the main character that you describe… You don’t say who he is, and you use every way possible to make the reader sympathise with him and feel compassion. But something tells me that he deserves it least of all. I think it’s an unfair trick. “Is it? Why so? And what do you think is the touchstone of compassion and justice?” “A sense of deceit and a sense of sincerity.” “And where do they come from?” Sebastian took a sip of water. “And this circus performer that goes by the name of Blue Eyes,” continued Ciel, ignoring the question, “she is not what she seems, and she is nothing you describe her. It’s like a contradiction.” “Perhaps. But you are only on the third chapter.” “I wanted to share with you my first impression and ask you some questions.” “I’m all ears.” “Why do you use this trick? It looks like a ploy to get a profit. But the author must bring light, knowledge, or truth. What do you get from this lie?” “This is art.” “It’s like a game of demons. The text leads you further and further… like a silvery web… until…” “Until the butterfly is trapped. Of course,” Sebastian smirked, “I am a demon writer. Maybe a little cannibal as well.” Ciel smirked. “I don’t believe it, but…” “I don’t believe it’s worth speaking about goals when you haven’t read the whole book. Or am I wrong?” “No, you are right.” A knife gave out a creak as it cut through the meat that was oozing with grease. “Do you regret giving it to me?” “Why would you think so?” “Your decision seemed very spontaneous to me at that moment. When I do things like that, I usually end up regretting them and almost sprinkling ashes on my head.” “Of all possible readers, your type is the most inappropriate and, I would say, delicate. Perhaps this is why I have asked you this favour. You’ll know the reason later, and I hope you will forgive my insolence. But you seem old enough to me not to faint at the sight of a horrible word, and more than that, able to benefit from what you read.” “‘A horrible word’?” “You won’t believe it, Ciel, but I was once a quite religious man, and in my youth, I even wanted to become a monk to follow my uncle’s footsteps…” “What changed your mind?” “Experience. And maybe the fact that my uncle didn’t prove himself a very spiritual man. The place where his monastery stood was a remote village in the mountains with many… many gullible women.” “One ill example cannot be the reason for the right path to bend,” the young man said fervently. “Experience. It’s all about it,” repeated Sebastian as he narrowed his eyes. “Life can not only bend all your paths, Ciel, but also wipe them clean. And when it does, you are left amidst an open field, with no landmarks to guide you, including yourself. An open, entirely black field. Just imagine. It can destroy you far beyond repair. And I can say a lot to prove that God does not exist; this is what I have been through. True faith begins with your tormented, anguished soul (as you call it). The rest is an attempt to relieve yourself of all responsibility and accept the painfully sweet blindness in keeping with the common step-by-step theory of the herd. The want to be a part of the ‘sainthood’ for the greater good is even falser and more selfish than other earthly wants.” Ciel gave the man a cryptic look, his face expressing the same youthful naivety and stubbornness that Sebastian had once experienced himself. They didn’t just appear but flared up. The man shouldn’t have brought up faith, for this conversation was pointless — everyone had their own path to walk; but suddenly, Sebastian wanted to see something alike in the blue eyes — a bold, staunch confrontation with the “old nihilist”. “This can never happen to someone with true faith. It is one of the reasons why I want to help people. I want to serve as an instrument, to guide and light the path of all the lost. In this, I see my meaning and my purpose, and nothing can lead me astray. My want hides no hypocrisy.” “‘Never, nothing’.” Sebastian smiled quietly. “One day ‘God’ may want to convince the man that it is him who decides his own fate and not these bombastic beliefs.” “I am sincere, but hear you say it, I am one hell of a lair.” “Perhaps it is that you don’t see it yet. Do you consider your mind fully grown?” Ciel frowned. “I love our Lord. This love is more than enough for it all. At times, I think that I’m too small to carry it. It is too deep. Could a man wish for more?” “Beautiful words.” That is all to it. But how beautiful himself! Sebastian’s eyes fixed on Ciel’s lips as he spoke the last words, almost as if it was a prayer — with passion, greed, and innocence. In his dream, those lips laughed at him — at him who dared think such things about those lips. Imagine them in the place of ice cream… But then again, how low he had fallen! Why were these thoughts coursing through his mind? The name Sebastian has no worse sound to it than a prayer if said with such mouth and passion, spoke the familiar voice in his head. The monster was watching them. Ciel never saw the demon come close to his side. Sebastian made an effort to immerse himself back in the dialogue. “You are a beautiful young man in every meaning of the word,” added Sebastian, “I am sure that people like you are the ones who should bring light to others. They do it better than anyone. You will succeed.” Ciel blazed with blush, a deep line appearing between his brows. “What have I done to deserve this? You are laughing at me. Is it your atheism or our age difference? Whatever your beliefs, you don’t look happy either.” “Who told you that truth equals happiness? You’ve just confirmed the reason for your search. It is not the truth you are looking for, not God, but only happiness. You were told what to do in order to find this most convenient ‘happiness,’ and now you want to teach this to others… To be blind.” “Excuse me, but you are saying the wrong things. This is…” In the next chapter, the circus performer Blue Eyes would reveal herself as an angel, and then what would it make the outcast writer and the young man with innocent intentions? Reincarnation of the book characters? Or perhaps Sebastian saw in Ciel what he wanted to express on paper and what he unlikely succeeded in doing? Michaelis used to think that life was a chaotic tangle of accidents. But could their meeting be an accident?.. “There you are,” said a voice. Déjà vu. Oh, but indeed, people always looked for them and found them together. *** The hall where the invited opera singer, Irene, was soon to perform appeared to be overcrowded. As chance would have it, Michaelis and the Phantomhive missed each other by a few minutes. They arrived later and took their seats in the centre of the hall, while Sebastian sat in the front row. Guided by Elizabeth, he was quick to recognise Gabriel, but his twin was nowhere to be seen. Next to the man sat an old lady who coughed every now and then and complained about it to her companion, who was likely to be her granddaughter. “This cough will drive me mad. It is the ocean! I can’t stand the ocean; my body begins to resist and wants to get to… cough-cough-cough land!” Her granddaughter asked her to speak less, but the old lady needed to let out her feelings along with her madding cough. Soon enough, it was annoying everyone. A couple of minutes before the beginning, the old lady decided that she couldn’t attend after all. Her cough wouldn’t let her lungs breathe and gave her no time for respite. She left. The next moment, her seat was occupied by someone else. Someone dark and colossal. Sebastian flinched despite himself when he turned his head. You again. The demon said nothing. He was breathing, deeply and eagerly. Wheezing. The sharp tips of his long goat horns were pointed up towards a sparkling chandelier. Sebastian noted the absence of any solidity in the previously seemingly solid body. It was moving darkness come alive. A black flame with the silhouette of the stranger. After taking a closer look, Sebastian also noted a long, beastly muzzle instead of a face and short, glossy fur. But that was only at first glance; at second glance, it was a thick, pure shungite. The demon stared at the stage where the singer was about to appear and ignored the man next to him. Sebastian didn’t know what he was doing — he simply reached out his hand and touched the hero of his book. He had no time to comprehend what he was feeling before most lights were turned off and the devil got up from his seat. He went to the exit, where Sebastian saw Ciel. The boy was looking around for a vacant seat. Then the demon leant down to him and whispered in his ear. Something inside Sebastian tensed. It seemed to him like Ciel could see the demon. His face turned to the stranger, he answered him something and made his way straight to Sebastian. However, it was only when he took his seat that he recognised Michaelis. “It’s you. What a coincidence.” “Who was that man you spoke with?” inquired Sebastian. “I don’t know. He said that he was leaving and advised me to take the free seat because he saw that I was late.” The singer came on stage. Sebastian looked around for the counterpart once again, but he was nowhere to be found. During the opera, all he could think about was the fact that these hallucinations were lasting too long. Sebastian could overwork himself and be exhausted, but it had been days that he was doing nothing but resting, and still, his visions were growing more intrusive. He hadn’t been thinking about his book since the moment he finished it; he had cut off any thoughts about it. So what is the meaning of this? For a moment, he did not even notice how he unconsciously put his hand next to Ciel’s. His little hand was cold as snow. The young man felt the touch — he gave it a glance — but never moved his hand; instead, he continued listening to the beautiful voice. He thinks that by taking his hand off, he will show that he noticed, and that would be an obvious reaction. It is better to wait and take it off later, right? As the audience applauded, Ciel and Sebastian were slow to join in. A few moments, a few impossible short moments of delay… Ciel was the first to destroy the duo of their skin and warmth to clap his hands. Sebastian followed suit. “A voice such as this is a heavenly gift,” smiled the boy as Irene disappeared from the stage in her magnificent silvery dress. “My family and I listened to her sing last year when she made her debut, and now the name Irene is everywhere. You want to listen to such voices every day.” Sebastian lowered his face towards Ciel. “This morning, I said things to you I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry if I offended you.” The young man raised his brows in surprise; it was a brief moment before he quietly smiled again but kept his silence. Sebastian started to think that he only imagined the smile and that, in fact, it was a play of shadows. Irene was followed by a boys’ choir called Liberty. Truly, it was a host of angels, so moving and soulful that half of those present were completely spellbound. Tears welled up in Ciel’s eyes. Sebastian noticed them as he was doing nothing but looking at him; in his mind, those pure voices only suited that marble face with big eyes. The man wanted to touch his cold hand once again, feeling that the touch wouldn’t really be noticed, but he didn’t.

***

Afterwards, they took a walk on deck. People, of whom there were many, were scurrying about, but there was no sign of the Phantomhive couple, nor of the twin with his fiancée. Ciel and Sebastian found themselves aside from the crowd. The boy was first to speak. “You didn’t have to apologise,” it was said quietly. “You said what you thought, and that is better than hearing hypocrisy. Unfortunately, I see a lot of falsehood and that same vanity among my brethren, many of whom may even get an office. All this you have noticed correctly. It would be foolish to try to convince you that all priests are good people and all believers will be saved. But I want to try, at least, to be an exception to the rule. I am quite selfish in what I desire, because when I help others, I feel joy. I want to feel more joy and see more of it in others. In this, I am imperfect. And you are right again. I have a lot to work on. Was it a white flag or a tiny confession? the hands friendly opened? a step taken towards Sebastian? The man tilted his head thoughtfully. “There are many ways to bring joy. Why have you chosen this one?” “You must have noticed how different Gabriel and I are?” asked Ciel. “As chance would have it, my brother was the one to be born strong and talented. And as for me, I don’t even know what benefit I have received from this union of two. At first, I thought it strange and curious, for we are twins. How can we be so different? There has to be something… useful in me… But I found nothing except for…” “Except for faith?” Ciel nodded uncertainly. That moment could be a defining one, and Sebastian could well spoil everything. But he seemed incapable of doing the opposite. “So this is the true reason for your choice? To become holier than your brother? In the absence of talents and skills, what can be easier than to become a saint and rise above? Forgive me for being plain-spoken.” The blue eyes looked into the brown ones intently and mysteriously. Ciel could leave now; instead, he only said: “I don’t know. But I want to find it out.” “It appears that you are a deep, bottomless well, Ciel. And not as simple as you may seem.” Ciel smirked. “I hope you won’t throw any more stones at me to prove it?” “If only rope ladders.” “I don’t need to be saved. And what about yourself?” “There’s nothing to be said about myself.” “Then tonight I shall finish your novel and give you a verdict.” “Look at yourself, you are trying to jest.” Ciel laughed softly. “It’s my turn anyway. Good night, Sebastian.” “Your family is nowhere to be seen yet.” “Tell them, please, that I’ve retired.” “It’s better if I see you to your room.” Ciel was taken aback by the offer. “There’s no need. I can go on my own.” “It’s pretty late. Besides, I am going that way. I need to get something in my room. Then at least I can tell your father in good conscience that you are not walking around someplace.” “If it’s only for this…” muttered the boy in response. “If it was Gabriel, would you suggest the same?” “No.” They stopped along the way to let a big and noisy company pass by and looked up at the starry sky. “And not because he and you are…” Sebastian tried to add before he was interrupted. “I understand.” “No, you don’t.” The man smiled quietly. The wind was gently playing with the ashen blue hair, and in the dark of night, the celestial eyes seemed full black. Ciel’s skin was all white, like that of a fairy ghost. Suddenly, Sebastian felt calm and at peace. It was almost at the same moment that the man and his companion looked down at the waves. In the light of day, they would have seemed anxious and nervous, but now they were nothing but serene. An odd thought crossed his mind: that was how he would prefer to die — with the beautiful boy by his side or in the dark of those waters. He would last a few minutes before he went down. But the depths of water held much more truth than his entire life. Water was also black fire. He looked deeper and deeper until he heard the familiar breath of the beast in his ear. Delusion. He didn’t turn around; instead, he spoke to Ciel. “Will I see you at breakfast? I can’t wait to hear your verdict.” “At the same table.” Sebastian saw Ciel to the door of his cabin. “Till tomorrow,” said Michaelis, trying not to put more into his words than was necessary. Although he had already. And Ciel was unlikely to leave it unnoticed. Ciel simply nodded and disappeared to the cabin. A modest creak of the handle. Then silence. And beside him, the counterpart snorted as if in contempt. He seemed to have expected something completely different from Sebastian.