Chapter 25
Hearing Voices

Lillian looked at Melamira. Or, more accurately, she looked at the back of Melamira’s head. The Elf was engaged in an excited conversation with Bea, and it was genuinely nice to see her so animated. Complicated as her feelings might be nowadays, Lillian would always have a soft spot for Mellie. Regardless of what they were to each other now. ‘Ex-lovers’ had such a bitter ring to it. 

“Anyway, then Sally picks her up in one hand, and throws her across the room as hard as she can,” Melamira said, already giggling to herself. “You have never seen something so funny as a wizard absolutely wetting himself at the sight of an eighty-pound kobold wielding a two hundred-pound sword, screaming and flying at their face at terminal velocity.” 

Bea laughed, loudly and heartily. “I can imagine her being amenable to that,” she said. “Had to have been one banger of a sight to see.” She crossed her arms, clearly fully aware of the effect that had on Mellie, and looked at the smaller woman. “It had to have been hard for you, not being the most eye-catching thing in that room at the time.” Melamira managed to choke on her tongue for a second while Bea grinned a shit-eating grin. 

“How dare you,” Melamira said after a few seconds. “And I was feeling so confident too, telling one of my best stories!” From her little alcove, Lillian couldn’t help but grin. Melamira had always been weak to women with a strong presence. That had been Lillian, once upon a time. All conviction and gumption. 

“Don’t worry, little Elf,” Bea said, “you’re still going strong, and doing better than you think.” She winked. “Even if you’ve gotten a bit red in the face.”

“Thanks,” Melamira giggled. “I appreciate the pity, Bea. Anyway, that’s when Liz saw the army gathering —” Lillian turned around, deciding not to listen in any more. Her lantern hung at her hip, glowing so faintly it was barely visible. Ever since the moon had returned to its normal, natural state and the sun had risen again, it wasn’t necessary for it to burn as brightly. It would again when needed.

Lillian slowly wandered the halls of the castle. Whitehallow was a beautiful place, but she wasn’t going to be able to stay here. Not indefinitely. She was already starting to feel claustrophobic again. 

A little chirp on her shoulder distracted her, and she reached over to pet the moth. She looked to see what it had reacted to, and saw Alexander standing by one of the windows. After the initial conversation with Liz, there hadn’t been much time to discuss his fate and purpose much more. He looked lost.

“Hello,” she said as she stopped next to him. His forehead seemed creased into a permanent frown, though it relaxed a little as he looked at her. 

“Hi,” he said. “Need me for something?” Lillian shook her head.

“No. I just want to know how you’re doing. I know it’s been a lot…”

“Lady,” Alex said, “you don’t know the half of it. Like, at first it was… I mean it was cold and terrible and terrifying, don’t get me wrong, but there was like, a forward momentum, you know? And now I’m here and like, I was expecting something to happen, you know? Meeting the ‘Dragon Queen’ or whatever, but she just gave me some platitudes and called it a day, and now everyone’s busy with politics and shit and I’m just…”

“Yes,” was all Lillian said. She didn’t quite know what else to say. She knew how he felt. There were a thousand things she could be doing. She could go out into the world again. Hold her lantern high. Lead people to Whitehallow. Maybe go devil-slaying. But by that same metric, she could also stay here and do nothing. “You don’t know what you’re supposed to do now,” she said. 

“I… Yeah,” Alex said. “That’s exactly it. Like… I used to read these… well, stories, right? Of people who stuff like this happened to.” Lillian looked at him, slightly surprised. 

“People crossing the border between worlds? Those are awfully specific stories, Alexander,” she said. “Although considering what Liz has said, that’s not outside the realm of the possible, I suppose.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Alex said. “Anyway, yeah. But speaking of, in stories it’s usually like Liz, where they’re like, super powerful and they take over the world or whatever, and here I am, and I got turned into a twink with horns.”

“You’re saying you’re not powerful, then?” Lillian asked. “From what you’ve told me, and from what I’ve seen of both Dragonfolk and Demonkind, you should be considerably stronger than you used to be.”

“Well… I guess. I mean, I don’t magically know how to fight, you know? I just got scared, instead of becoming some great hero or whatever,” he said, leaning against the wall and looking outside.

“Heroes aren’t people who are never scared, Alexander,” Lillian said. "They are—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Alex said. “True heroism is overcoming fear or whatever. I saw the movie too.” He shook his head. “I just… it’s supposed to be easy,” he said. “It’s supposed to make sense. My life never made sense and then this happened, and then it somehow made less sense. What do I do with that?”

“Going by Liz and Sally, I think you are underestimating your own abilities and capabilities.” Lillian looked him up and down. He really was quite scrawny. “I’ve yet to meet someone from your world whose spirit could be kept down. I’m sure you’ll find your own path, and your strength with it. Who knows, you may already possess that strength. Try pushing yourself some time. You may find yourself capable of greatness yet, Alexander. I’ve never heard of a Golden Dragon, but it sounds rather impressive, no?”

Alex looked up at his horns, a little cross-eyed. “I guess. I’ll give it a go. Maybe I can do magic or something. Uh, how would I even find that out? You look like the magic-y type, maybe you can teach me?”

Lillian shook her head, to Alexander’s clear disappointment. “I’m afraid not. The only spiritual abilities I have are based on a faith I no longer have, and those have always hurt anyone related to Demons. Which I think may include you. We don’t know yet. But there are plenty of mages around the place who can show you a thing or two when everything calms down a bit.”

“Yeah. Whenever that is,” Alex sighed. “Maybe I’m just really strong or something.”

“I mean… You’ve had ample opportunity to test that, haven’t you? Plenty of heavy things to lift, and you’ve been attacked several times.” Lillian raised one very skeptical eyebrow. 

“I mean, yeah, but like… I didn’t feel anything different, you know? Other than the different feeling of being in a new body, I mean. Like, how often do you wake up and wonder like ‘Gee, I wonder if I can lift a c— a horse,’ you know?”

“Fair enough,” Lillian said. “I suppose you could give it a try now? You’ll not find an environment as safe as Whitehallow for some time, and it’s said that there is no time like the present.”

“Screw it, sure,” Alexander said, pushed himself off of the wall, and swung his fist at it before Lillian could offer up the thought of possibly not doing that. It was a bad idea, for several reasons. At best, it would put a hole in the castle wall and fire chunks of debris on the people below. At worst, it w—

“Fuck!” Alexander yelled as he held his hand. Lillian closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Heavens, grant her the patience to deal with this boy. It was hard to concentrate on even that with him swearing loudly, shaking his hand, and then swearing at how much that hurt, hissing through his teeth.

“Alex,” she said. “Alex, look at me. You probably — be quiet for a moment — you probably fractured your knuckles. There are easier ways to check if you have some sort of supernatural strength or abilities. Go downstairs and find John Mustrum. He’ll sort that out.”

With more swearing and nodding, tears in his eyes but too proud to cry, Alex hurried off down the hall towards the staircase. Lillian shook her head as she watched him go. He was a very strange boy, although, to a certain extent, she kind of understood him. He was scared, and alone, and confused. He didn’t seem to want to go back to his world for some reason, and she didn’t hold that against him either. For the most part, those who had been reborn in other worlds — Liz, Sally, Daniel, Lisa — had all elected to stay. 

Perhaps destiny was involved in some way. Perhaps there was a ‘true home’ aspect to things. Or maybe the grass was, sometimes, greener on the other side. She wondered what she’d do if she was ever thrown into another world. If everything were changed like that. Would she hurry back?

“There is beauty everywhere.”

Who had just said that? Lillian looked around. There was nobody else around. Except… she looked suspiciously at her shoulder. The moth was cleaning its wings carefully. 

“Did you speak?” she asked. The moth rubbed its fluffy front legs over its head. 

“No, the moth on your shoulder did not speak,” the voice said. It was gentle and warm. It was a voice like a warm blanket, and Lillian resisted the sense of calm that came over her as it spoke. “Although it is a cute critter, and seeing you so comfortable around it is certainly a pleasant sight to see.”

“Who are you?” Lillian said, straightening up. Her hand rested on the pommel of her sword. She went without her armor these days, but that didn’t mean she travelled unarmed. She was too savvy for that. “Some spirit?”

“Just… a concerned soul,” the voice said. 

“How are you here?” Lillian asked. “Souls don’t usually have voices, you know. Not without having a body to go with it.” She looked around again. “Unless you have one, and you’ve yet to reveal yourself, in which case, I must say, you have chosen the wrong castle to hide in, my friend.”

“Not hiding,” the voice said. “I’m… a little weak, I’m afraid.” The soft voice cracked, like it was bordering on crying. “But I’m doing my best to be heard. You were receptive, so you heard.”

“Why me, specifically, spirit?” Lillian asked. “You’ll find many who are more devout than myself.”

“Yes, that does seem to be the problem.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” Lillian said as she raised her lantern, hoping its slowly brightening light would illuminate the darkest corners of the room and maybe catch a glimpse of whatever was speaking to her.

“I’m old, Lillian,” the voice said. “But I just want to help. I can’t do much more than give you advice. Advice, easily given, which you can easily discard.” Weariness had crept into every word, and Lillian wanted to find the spirit and hold it until it felt better. That, too, felt like a trap, and she strongly pushed back against that instinct.

“What advice might that be, spirit?” Lillian asked. She lowered the lamp. If the spirit was here, it was likely not corporeal. 

“The world bursts at the seams with magic. It flows over, from every pore. Old things are waking up. Things older than words, as old as the mountains, are opening their eyes for the first time in aeons. Devils. Gods,” it said. “In that, you may find salvation yet.”

“What do you mean, salvation?” Lillian asked, spinning around. “Are you saying you can save the world? Or do you mean someone else? Answer me, spirit. If you know how to stop what is happening, if you know anything more, tell me. If you’ve any love for this world, tell me.” 

There was no answer. The walls of Whitehallow castle stood in silence, reflecting only the sound of her breathing back at her.

Elamimax

Whitehallow is a really fun setting for me. Ancient castle with a lot of history, lots of nooks and crannies, that can be both a symbol of hope one minute and just a big spooky castle the next.