An Endless Dark Tunnel
Here is a scene from my Gods and Shadow Creatures universe. In this one, I'm trying a different characterization for Isabel. Trigger warning for mentioned [click to reveal]rape.
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“You two need to pretend to be human.” Maris glared at Egan and Nico. Her eyes were hard, and her face was dead serious as she stood there. “My old friend Clara has no love for your kind.”
Nico flinched from the force of Maris’ eyes. He nodded. “Of course. I’m already in human form, anyway.” He had even created a human-style “mage mark” tattoo on the side of his neck, so he could use magic while still appearing mortal. All human mages who had been officially trained had mage marks, after all.
“I don’t understand why you pretend to be human when there’s no real reason. It seems a waste of energy to me,” Egan muttered, flipping his long blond hair contemptuously as he leaned against the side of the armchair he sat upon.
Unlike Nico, who right now looked like an unusually pretty human man, Egan looked like the god he was. He hadn’t bothered with a mage mark and had kept his eyes purple. In contrast, Nico had turned his a pale blue for this particular human disguise. Egan allowed his full divine beauty to be on display in Maris’ sitting room. Nico had to wrinkle his nose in distaste as he watched the other god.
“Can you keep a handle on your ego long enough for us to get the information we need? I know you think you’re so great and powerful, but you need to keep yourself in check. This information is more important than you are,” Maris said. She narrowed her eyes at Egan.
“If I must,” Egan sighed, looking more put-upon than he had any right to be. “But would you care to tell us why she has no love for the gods?”
Nico, who was sitting on the couch, stole a glance at Breccan, who had remained silent through the whole conversation so far. The redhead sat on the other side of the couch with his eyes cast downwards and his hands in his lap. Looking at him, Nico was reminded exactly why someone might have no love for the gods. Egan had stolen Breccan’s mage powers when he forced himself upon him.
Maris, too, glanced at Breccan. “I know it’s hard to conceive of anyone disliking you, Egan, but some people find your behavior utterly disgraceful,” she muttered.
Shivering slightly, Nico crossed his arms over his chest. He knew all too well what that “disgraceful behavior” was -- not that long ago, he had indulged in it himself.
“You fuss too much, Maris,” Egan muttered, looking at her disdainfully.
Maris glared at Egan. “Clara’s secrets are not mine to tell, so I would ask you to show a modicum of sensitivity,” she muttered.
“If you insist,” Egan said.
* * *
Nico tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as they walked towards this Clara’s house. He brushed a stray speck of dust off his outfit, which he had carefully created with his magic to look as human as possible. Egan hadn’t exactly done the same with his own outfit -- while his shirt and trousers were cut after the current human model, they were a bit too fancy and more brightly colored than the usual, in blues to presumably match his mortal-seeming eyes. At least he wore a mage mark -- Nico assumed it was beneath Egan to pretend to be unable to perform magic.
Maris glanced up at the sky and the gathering clouds. “It looks like it might rain,” she said.
Egan made a disgusted sound, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“What, are you afraid of getting your fancy outfit wet?” she muttered.
He shrugged. “I can always make another, you know.”
Nico decided to ignore them as they walked along the streets. The buildings were odd here, mostly made of reddish bricks and mortar. Even the streets were largely covered in brick. All the red was more than a bit overwhelming. But, perhaps, he was less overwhelmed by the bricks than by meeting someone who had “no love” for his kind, not that Nico had any love for his people.
He pushed his long ash brown hair out of his eyes and dared to glance over at Breccan. The redhead walked a little bit behind the rest of the group, his eyes downcast. Unfortunately, he noticed Nico. Their eyes met, and he startled slightly, stopping in the middle of the street.
Maris turned around and narrow her eyes at him. “What’s going on? We need to hurry. Clara isn’t the most patient woman,” she said.
“S-sorry,” Breccan murmured, looking down at the ground again. Maris just kept glaring at him, and he started moving.
They walked in tense silence. Nico looked up at the clouds -- they did promise rain, probably a full storm.
“We’re here,” Maris said, interrupting Nico’s brooding thoughts.
“Really now? This Clara has got odd taste in decorations. I’ve never seen so many chaotically placed, over-bright flowers in one place,” Egan muttered as he looked at the brick house.
“You’re one to talk -- look at what you’re wearing.” Maris snorted and shook her head. Without saying anything else, she walked up the three steps to the door and used the iron knocker. The thumps were incredibly loud, and Nico saw Breccan wince. He also noticed the knocker was shaped like an open book -- surely that wasn’t usual, even for mortals? He hadn’t seen any other similarly shaped ones on the way here.
The four of them waited a while at Clara’s doorstep. Nico looked back and forth at the houses to either side of hers. They appeared to be attached to Clara’s own house, and they also had little gardens. Their gardens, however, didn’t have the same chaotic blooms -- theirs were much more orderly and not as colorful.
After what felt like an incredibly long time, the door creaked open -- and on the other side stood a short, thin young woman with caramel skin, short straight dark brown hair and pitch-black eyes. Shadows crawled all over her face and arms, writhing tendrils that seemed to have a life of their own. Nico shuddered -- this was Clara? She looked more like the shadows they opposed than a possible ally.
“You must be Isabel,” Maris said. She stood with relaxed posture, evidently unafraid of the shadow-woman. “Clara mentioned you.”
“So she did. You may come in. My mistress is expecting you,” Isabel said. She nodded her head, but her eyes remained frightfully cold.
Egan turned to Maris. “Your old friend has some interesting friends of her own,” he said.
“You have no idea, but, I assure you, I am on your side. These shadows were not my choice.” Isabel gazed at Egan, and Nico shuddered again, grateful she wasn’t looking at him. To a casual observer, Egan appeared unperturbed, but Nico saw fear flash briefly in his eyes.
Warily, Nico followed Isabel into the little foyer. The outside of the house may have been all brick, but inside, wooden panels covered the walls and the floor. More flowers hung from buckets somehow suspended from beams criss-crossing the ceiling.
“Clara made coffee and cake for everyone. She’s waiting at the dining room table. It’s late enough in the day for dessert, yes?” Isabel said. Even her voice made Nico shiver. It sounded like an ordinary young woman’s, only there was something else in it, as if the shadows had infected it as well.
Nico stole another glance at Breccan -- the former mage appeared to have shrunk in on himself and was darting his head about. Breccan also hugged himself tightly, and Nico fought the desire to put a protective arm around the man, knowing that would do far more harm than good. Instead, he hugged his own arms across his chest and followed Maris into the dining room.
When he saw a woman get up from her chair, his whole world stopped. He felt like he were falling down a never-ending tunnel of darkness. Nico hugged himself tighter and blinked furiously. It couldn’t be her -- not that Clara.
He had known a young woman with that name, years ago. She was far younger than this Clara, but the steely gray eyes he had looked into, so different from Breccan’s own gentle gray ones, were the same as the ones that gazed at him now. This Clara’s long curly black hair was graying, but it otherwise looked the same as the hair of the young woman he had known. The face -- it was the same face, older, but with the same full, sensuous features and dark brown skin. The body had the same curves, though perhaps they were a bit larger now.
It was her.
The young woman he had raped.
He felt her gaze burn into him, but she didn’t seem to know who he was -- after all, he took a different form now, with a new body and a new face. Still, he shivered and kept falling down that tunnel of darkness and guilt.
“Why doesn’t everybody have a seat since it’s getting late already? There’s cake, as you can see,” Clara said. That voice -- it was her soft, familiar voice, hardened somewhat by age and experience.
On the edge of his awareness, Nico saw everyone sit down at the table, but he couldn’t make himself move.
“Nico, are you alright?” Breccan’s voice cut into his thoughts, pulling him out of that dark tunnel enough to realize he was acting strange.
“I’m -- I’m fine,” he murmured. He shook his head and took a seat next to Breccan and far away from Clara, trembling visibly as he did so.
Clara gave him a long, unreadable look -- would the use of his name trigger recognition? Nico went by a short form of it now -- before, he had been Nicolai. He reminded himself that he looked different and appeared to be human.
Maris, too, looked over at him, curiosity and concern clear on her features.
Even Egan noticed something was wrong. He narrowed his eyes at Nico. “What is the matter with you? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I said I’m fine,” he muttered, looking down at the table.
Isabel, Clara, Egan and Maris all took slices of cake. Nico had no appetite, and, apparently, Breccan didn’t either, as he, too, refused dessert. Everyone took coffee -- Nico sipped his in an effort to appear more at ease. Guilt and horror may have been eating at him, but he couldn’t let that show.
“So, you want information about the shadow threat, right?” Clara said. She sipped her own coffee and gave Nico one more glance.
Maris nodded. “You have an extensive library in this house. Perhaps there is a chance you would know something we don’t. We can’t fight these shadow creatures effectively unless we understand them. And we don’t understand them,” she said.
“People don’t want to understand the threat,” Clara said, her expression darkening. “Rumor has it that one of the gods went to a mage academy to warn them, and the mages did nothing. I’m not sure I believe that -- a god caring about the mortal world? Still, almost nobody is doing anything, so such stories are plausible enough.”
Egan had been the god who went to the mage academy. Nico couldn’t help glancing in his direction. The blond god bristled, as if remembering how annoyed he had been to be dismissed.
“People are foolish,” Egan muttered.
“That they are,” Clara said. She took another sip of her coffee. “And the gods aren’t any better. I would know.”
Nico flinched; she was right -- the gods weren’t any better. They had more power and more authority, but that was all. He felt sick to his stomach and wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit here. In an effort to distract himself, he focused on the grain of the dark wooden table. Again, he felt like he were falling down an endless dark tunnel.
He became unable to hear any of what was discussed, and, soon, he simply couldn’t stand being at the table anymore. “Excuse me,” he said, getting up and walking as fast as he could out of the room.
Shaking, he collapsed on the couch in the living room. While he didn’t need to breathe in the way a mortal would, he struggled to get enough air, and this struggle went on for an eternity. Eventually, Nico calmed down. At least, he stopped shaking. Then, he heard footsteps.
It was Maris, and she didn’t look happy.
She stood before him, a hand on her hip and her eyes narrowed. “What is going on with you, Nico? You need to pull yourself together and get over whatever’s bothering you. Clara’s been asking questions while you had your inconvenient breakdown. She wondered if she knew you and asked if you were actually human. Why would she do that?” she said.
Nico felt the color drain from his face. “She -- she what?”
Maris threw her hands into the air. The look on her face was a startling mix of anger and vicious disgust. “Tell me it’s not what I think it is,” she growled.
“I -- I don’t know what you’re thinking.” He couldn’t look at her because he did know what she was thinking, or at least had a horrible, sinking suspicion about it.
“I know how gods like to behave towards mortals. Now tell me you didn’t rape her,” she hissed. She walked right up to him and leaned over, her eyes blazing with anger.
He said nothing, just started falling down that well-deserved dark tunnel again. Nico couldn’t deny the truth, even as Maris’ expression darkened further.
“Fuck,” Maris said. The single curse pierced the air and pulled Nico from the tunnel even as it sent a blade of guilt through his chest.
“You’re lucky I convinced her you were human. As much as I hate it, we need the information she has more than we need the truth to come out,” Maris continued, her voice as sharp as anything. “Now, get yourself together and come back to the table.” Without so much as looking at him, she strode back towards the dining room.
Nico understood he would have to return and pretend everything was normal, but he struggled to get himself off the couch. They needed Clara’s knowledge about the shadow creatures. He couldn’t allow his past evil to ruin things any more than it already had, no matter how awful he felt. After all, he did deserve to feel awful for what he had done. Eventually, he managed to stand up, even though he trembled badly enough he needed to lean on the couch to steady himself.
He only hoped his secret would stay hidden.
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“You two need to pretend to be human.” Maris glared at Egan and Nico. Her eyes were hard, and her face was dead serious as she stood there. “My old friend Clara has no love for your kind.”
Nico flinched from the force of Maris’ eyes. He nodded. “Of course. I’m already in human form, anyway.” He had even created a human-style “mage mark” tattoo on the side of his neck, so he could use magic while still appearing mortal. All human mages who had been officially trained had mage marks, after all.
“I don’t understand why you pretend to be human when there’s no real reason. It seems a waste of energy to me,” Egan muttered, flipping his long blond hair contemptuously as he leaned against the side of the armchair he sat upon.
Unlike Nico, who right now looked like an unusually pretty human man, Egan looked like the god he was. He hadn’t bothered with a mage mark and had kept his eyes purple. In contrast, Nico had turned his a pale blue for this particular human disguise. Egan allowed his full divine beauty to be on display in Maris’ sitting room. Nico had to wrinkle his nose in distaste as he watched the other god.
“Can you keep a handle on your ego long enough for us to get the information we need? I know you think you’re so great and powerful, but you need to keep yourself in check. This information is more important than you are,” Maris said. She narrowed her eyes at Egan.
“If I must,” Egan sighed, looking more put-upon than he had any right to be. “But would you care to tell us why she has no love for the gods?”
Nico, who was sitting on the couch, stole a glance at Breccan, who had remained silent through the whole conversation so far. The redhead sat on the other side of the couch with his eyes cast downwards and his hands in his lap. Looking at him, Nico was reminded exactly why someone might have no love for the gods. Egan had stolen Breccan’s mage powers when he forced himself upon him.
Maris, too, glanced at Breccan. “I know it’s hard to conceive of anyone disliking you, Egan, but some people find your behavior utterly disgraceful,” she muttered.
Shivering slightly, Nico crossed his arms over his chest. He knew all too well what that “disgraceful behavior” was -- not that long ago, he had indulged in it himself.
“You fuss too much, Maris,” Egan muttered, looking at her disdainfully.
Maris glared at Egan. “Clara’s secrets are not mine to tell, so I would ask you to show a modicum of sensitivity,” she muttered.
“If you insist,” Egan said.
* * *
Nico tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as they walked towards this Clara’s house. He brushed a stray speck of dust off his outfit, which he had carefully created with his magic to look as human as possible. Egan hadn’t exactly done the same with his own outfit -- while his shirt and trousers were cut after the current human model, they were a bit too fancy and more brightly colored than the usual, in blues to presumably match his mortal-seeming eyes. At least he wore a mage mark -- Nico assumed it was beneath Egan to pretend to be unable to perform magic.
Maris glanced up at the sky and the gathering clouds. “It looks like it might rain,” she said.
Egan made a disgusted sound, and she raised an eyebrow at him.
“What, are you afraid of getting your fancy outfit wet?” she muttered.
He shrugged. “I can always make another, you know.”
Nico decided to ignore them as they walked along the streets. The buildings were odd here, mostly made of reddish bricks and mortar. Even the streets were largely covered in brick. All the red was more than a bit overwhelming. But, perhaps, he was less overwhelmed by the bricks than by meeting someone who had “no love” for his kind, not that Nico had any love for his people.
He pushed his long ash brown hair out of his eyes and dared to glance over at Breccan. The redhead walked a little bit behind the rest of the group, his eyes downcast. Unfortunately, he noticed Nico. Their eyes met, and he startled slightly, stopping in the middle of the street.
Maris turned around and narrow her eyes at him. “What’s going on? We need to hurry. Clara isn’t the most patient woman,” she said.
“S-sorry,” Breccan murmured, looking down at the ground again. Maris just kept glaring at him, and he started moving.
They walked in tense silence. Nico looked up at the clouds -- they did promise rain, probably a full storm.
“We’re here,” Maris said, interrupting Nico’s brooding thoughts.
“Really now? This Clara has got odd taste in decorations. I’ve never seen so many chaotically placed, over-bright flowers in one place,” Egan muttered as he looked at the brick house.
“You’re one to talk -- look at what you’re wearing.” Maris snorted and shook her head. Without saying anything else, she walked up the three steps to the door and used the iron knocker. The thumps were incredibly loud, and Nico saw Breccan wince. He also noticed the knocker was shaped like an open book -- surely that wasn’t usual, even for mortals? He hadn’t seen any other similarly shaped ones on the way here.
The four of them waited a while at Clara’s doorstep. Nico looked back and forth at the houses to either side of hers. They appeared to be attached to Clara’s own house, and they also had little gardens. Their gardens, however, didn’t have the same chaotic blooms -- theirs were much more orderly and not as colorful.
After what felt like an incredibly long time, the door creaked open -- and on the other side stood a short, thin young woman with caramel skin, short straight dark brown hair and pitch-black eyes. Shadows crawled all over her face and arms, writhing tendrils that seemed to have a life of their own. Nico shuddered -- this was Clara? She looked more like the shadows they opposed than a possible ally.
“You must be Isabel,” Maris said. She stood with relaxed posture, evidently unafraid of the shadow-woman. “Clara mentioned you.”
“So she did. You may come in. My mistress is expecting you,” Isabel said. She nodded her head, but her eyes remained frightfully cold.
Egan turned to Maris. “Your old friend has some interesting friends of her own,” he said.
“You have no idea, but, I assure you, I am on your side. These shadows were not my choice.” Isabel gazed at Egan, and Nico shuddered again, grateful she wasn’t looking at him. To a casual observer, Egan appeared unperturbed, but Nico saw fear flash briefly in his eyes.
Warily, Nico followed Isabel into the little foyer. The outside of the house may have been all brick, but inside, wooden panels covered the walls and the floor. More flowers hung from buckets somehow suspended from beams criss-crossing the ceiling.
“Clara made coffee and cake for everyone. She’s waiting at the dining room table. It’s late enough in the day for dessert, yes?” Isabel said. Even her voice made Nico shiver. It sounded like an ordinary young woman’s, only there was something else in it, as if the shadows had infected it as well.
Nico stole another glance at Breccan -- the former mage appeared to have shrunk in on himself and was darting his head about. Breccan also hugged himself tightly, and Nico fought the desire to put a protective arm around the man, knowing that would do far more harm than good. Instead, he hugged his own arms across his chest and followed Maris into the dining room.
When he saw a woman get up from her chair, his whole world stopped. He felt like he were falling down a never-ending tunnel of darkness. Nico hugged himself tighter and blinked furiously. It couldn’t be her -- not that Clara.
He had known a young woman with that name, years ago. She was far younger than this Clara, but the steely gray eyes he had looked into, so different from Breccan’s own gentle gray ones, were the same as the ones that gazed at him now. This Clara’s long curly black hair was graying, but it otherwise looked the same as the hair of the young woman he had known. The face -- it was the same face, older, but with the same full, sensuous features and dark brown skin. The body had the same curves, though perhaps they were a bit larger now.
It was her.
The young woman he had raped.
He felt her gaze burn into him, but she didn’t seem to know who he was -- after all, he took a different form now, with a new body and a new face. Still, he shivered and kept falling down that tunnel of darkness and guilt.
“Why doesn’t everybody have a seat since it’s getting late already? There’s cake, as you can see,” Clara said. That voice -- it was her soft, familiar voice, hardened somewhat by age and experience.
On the edge of his awareness, Nico saw everyone sit down at the table, but he couldn’t make himself move.
“Nico, are you alright?” Breccan’s voice cut into his thoughts, pulling him out of that dark tunnel enough to realize he was acting strange.
“I’m -- I’m fine,” he murmured. He shook his head and took a seat next to Breccan and far away from Clara, trembling visibly as he did so.
Clara gave him a long, unreadable look -- would the use of his name trigger recognition? Nico went by a short form of it now -- before, he had been Nicolai. He reminded himself that he looked different and appeared to be human.
Maris, too, looked over at him, curiosity and concern clear on her features.
Even Egan noticed something was wrong. He narrowed his eyes at Nico. “What is the matter with you? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I said I’m fine,” he muttered, looking down at the table.
Isabel, Clara, Egan and Maris all took slices of cake. Nico had no appetite, and, apparently, Breccan didn’t either, as he, too, refused dessert. Everyone took coffee -- Nico sipped his in an effort to appear more at ease. Guilt and horror may have been eating at him, but he couldn’t let that show.
“So, you want information about the shadow threat, right?” Clara said. She sipped her own coffee and gave Nico one more glance.
Maris nodded. “You have an extensive library in this house. Perhaps there is a chance you would know something we don’t. We can’t fight these shadow creatures effectively unless we understand them. And we don’t understand them,” she said.
“People don’t want to understand the threat,” Clara said, her expression darkening. “Rumor has it that one of the gods went to a mage academy to warn them, and the mages did nothing. I’m not sure I believe that -- a god caring about the mortal world? Still, almost nobody is doing anything, so such stories are plausible enough.”
Egan had been the god who went to the mage academy. Nico couldn’t help glancing in his direction. The blond god bristled, as if remembering how annoyed he had been to be dismissed.
“People are foolish,” Egan muttered.
“That they are,” Clara said. She took another sip of her coffee. “And the gods aren’t any better. I would know.”
Nico flinched; she was right -- the gods weren’t any better. They had more power and more authority, but that was all. He felt sick to his stomach and wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit here. In an effort to distract himself, he focused on the grain of the dark wooden table. Again, he felt like he were falling down an endless dark tunnel.
He became unable to hear any of what was discussed, and, soon, he simply couldn’t stand being at the table anymore. “Excuse me,” he said, getting up and walking as fast as he could out of the room.
Shaking, he collapsed on the couch in the living room. While he didn’t need to breathe in the way a mortal would, he struggled to get enough air, and this struggle went on for an eternity. Eventually, Nico calmed down. At least, he stopped shaking. Then, he heard footsteps.
It was Maris, and she didn’t look happy.
She stood before him, a hand on her hip and her eyes narrowed. “What is going on with you, Nico? You need to pull yourself together and get over whatever’s bothering you. Clara’s been asking questions while you had your inconvenient breakdown. She wondered if she knew you and asked if you were actually human. Why would she do that?” she said.
Nico felt the color drain from his face. “She -- she what?”
Maris threw her hands into the air. The look on her face was a startling mix of anger and vicious disgust. “Tell me it’s not what I think it is,” she growled.
“I -- I don’t know what you’re thinking.” He couldn’t look at her because he did know what she was thinking, or at least had a horrible, sinking suspicion about it.
“I know how gods like to behave towards mortals. Now tell me you didn’t rape her,” she hissed. She walked right up to him and leaned over, her eyes blazing with anger.
He said nothing, just started falling down that well-deserved dark tunnel again. Nico couldn’t deny the truth, even as Maris’ expression darkened further.
“Fuck,” Maris said. The single curse pierced the air and pulled Nico from the tunnel even as it sent a blade of guilt through his chest.
“You’re lucky I convinced her you were human. As much as I hate it, we need the information she has more than we need the truth to come out,” Maris continued, her voice as sharp as anything. “Now, get yourself together and come back to the table.” Without so much as looking at him, she strode back towards the dining room.
Nico understood he would have to return and pretend everything was normal, but he struggled to get himself off the couch. They needed Clara’s knowledge about the shadow creatures. He couldn’t allow his past evil to ruin things any more than it already had, no matter how awful he felt. After all, he did deserve to feel awful for what he had done. Eventually, he managed to stand up, even though he trembled badly enough he needed to lean on the couch to steady himself.
He only hoped his secret would stay hidden.