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He brought me here, imprisoned me in the dark, strung up—no better than a plucked chicken. And for what? Iknowhe wanted me! All of this was to prove a point. To prove he is ruler over me. I roll my eyes because I already knew that.
I remember how weak he seemed after he kissed me. As if whatever stone or ice defined his heart was cracking.
If that’s true, if I truly cracked whatever forms his heart, I will proudly pay this price.
When I close my eyes, prepared to fade into unconsciousness from the pain, the next thing I hear is a melodic tune. A tune of such deja vu, it’s not long before I recognize it.
I thread my brows, recognizing that tune, recognizing a woman like me, a shadow of a lonely girl—no better than a ghost—telling her past self how beautiful and worthy she is.
“You can be….anything you want to be,” I sing barely above a murmur until the source of the music materializes before my cell bars. And then, the figure.
The first thing I do is smile. He’s so…unique and friendly, for a gargoyle. This one is only a couple inches taller than me, his horns a fraction of the size of the gargoyle god who kissed me. Horns decorated with jingling bells.
“Oh, please!” I cry out to the beautiful figure robed in purple and blue patches. “Please don’t go! Come closer, please!”
“You need not plead, my Lady. I am happy to do so…” he says in such a soothing lyrical voice, causing a weight off my chest even if the chains have me aching.
He doesn’t open the cell. He simply phases through the bars, bringing that tune closer, but it changes. It leaves me bewildered and guessing as to the next tune.
“Oh, what is your name?” I ask as he reaches to something behind him and manifests a bowl of something steamy.
I part my lips as he pivots his hand, a mere flick of his wrist to produce a spoon that hovers above the steaming bowl. “If My Lady would permit me to feed her…”
I nod without hesitation because I’m starved in more ways than one. “Thank you.” I close my eyes and part my lips to receive the offering, trusting in this musical harlequin.
“I’m Aradia,” I say after I take the first sip, savoring the unfamiliar-tasting soup. The aromatic flavors dance on my tongue, reminding me of ethereal herbs and smoky seasonings. As if I’m tasting the fusion of lost laughter and melancholic sweetness. The warmth spreads to fill my belly and thaw my numb skin until my shivers fade.
“I know. I am Crescendo. But you may call me Cres if you prefer, sweet mortal.” He switches to tipping the rim of the bowl into my mouth.
“Can you get me out of here?” I wonder after another few sips, squeezing my eyes while gesturing to the chains.
“If I could, know I would, my Lady. But the chains and prison door can only be opened by their master. But the soup will help.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He blinks as if stunned by the second time I’ve thanked him.
Soon, I register the heaviness settling in while my vision blurs. My skin tingles from that ethereal warmth like heated bubbles.
“What is—”
“It will keep you warm for quite some time until he decides to get his head out of his tight stony ass.” He snickers, and I lift my brows, surprised, smiling the bold statement.
“It’s a nice ass.”
“Yes, it is,” he agrees.
“You know him?”
He offers me a wry smirk. “Most intimately…” The suggestive tone prompts a blush to tether my cheeks.
“Who is he? And where am I? He said something about souls, living, dead, or ‘tween? What does ‘tween mean? And am I one of those ‘tween ones? What’s going to happen to me?” I ramble as Crescendo tilts his head and presses his stony lips into an amused smile.
“If I could, I would answer your questions, little wonder. But alas, such answers belong only to him. All I may reveal is that you are no ‘tween traveler. If you were, you would know it.”
“When will he…” I shake my head but the haze makes me dizzy—warm but dizzy.
“Forgive me, my Lady, but you need to sleep.” He taps my nose with those bells tinkling. “He has plans for you tonight. And this will give you rest and ease your pain. And I will play you a lullaby…”
