The black book skidded across the floor and came to a stop at the foot of a tall bookshelf. Dean watched it for a moment, his hand outstretched after throwing it away with force. It took him a moment to calm his reeling mind. Once he was calm, he looked around. He was in the same study room he had been in when he started reading. However, the dullness and the oppressive atmosphere seemed so much worse than he remembered.
"I'll consider that a reflexive action rather than one done with intent," came a stern voice from beside him.
Looking up from the floor, he watched as Tatiana calmly walked over to the book, picked it up, and dusted it off before gently leaving it on the nearby desk. Once the book had been safely put away, she turned to him with an angry look.
"Don't treat books like that. That's the one thing I won't permit of you, Dean."
Tatiana, the creator of worlds and torturer of his friends, was upset over a book. She held the role of his judge, or perhaps his executioner, yet she was rarely openly hostile towards him. He tried to come up with a reason why she was angry, but his mind was currently unstable.
His memory was fresh with images of Layota and the creature that had killed her. A creature Marianne claimed was her son, Matin. Dean shook his head. It couldn't be him. Not his friend, whom he had known his entire life.
"Don't do it," he whispered, shaking his head.
Tatiana raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"Don't do what, pray tell?"
"Don't make Matin out to be a killer, don't make him responsible for all…that!" he blurted.
Matin wasn't the kind of person who would ever commit such crimes. Dean knew that if he was going to be written in such a way as to do what he did to Layota, his mind would break. Matin could not live with that kind of guilt.
"Make him, you say?" Tatiana asked calmly as she leaned back against the desk and stared up at the ceiling. "I haven't made him do anything. His actions are his own. He's not the saint you make him out to be, you know. Nobody is so pure that they can't be pushed to violent actions."
Dean bit his lip and looked down at the floor. She had to be lying. There must have been some sort of manipulation or sorcery taking place. Just remembering what had become of Layota was almost enough to make him vomit.
"M-Matin's a victim too. I have to save him, not shoot him, for Goddess' sake!" Dean yelled, losing all control of his emotions.
Tatiana just stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting out into laughter.
"So my guesses were correct after all! You have started thinking of them as real," she said in a giddy voice before abruptly slamming her fist onto the table. "You've grown confused, poor thing. I'll remind you once more: they are not real. Matin and all the others, they are nothing to you. They are below us. Do you understand?"
Despite her aggressive actions, her voice remained as cold as ice.
Dean remained silent. He could almost agree with her. He felt like something was changing within him, that a fire had been lit inside him ever since he had viewed Addi's memories and spoken with Cythia. Perhaps it was the power of the books Tatiana had written, but it was becoming more and more difficult to separate himself from the characters.
Worst of all, he didn't know if these were his genuine feelings or if his self in the story world was indeed taking over his mind. He knew his reason for being here, his purpose, and it had nothing to do with Matin and all the others. He was better off despising them, just as Tatiana had said. But he couldn't. The desire to save them, to make sure they survived their ordeals and lived happy lives, was beginning to consume him, and he hated himself for it. He hated himself because he knew how pointless it all was and how he'd only end up making the situation worse.
"I can't pretend that they're not real people anymore, Tatiana. I'll keep reading, but please spare Matin, make Marianne responsible for everything. Or at least make it so that I can save them somehow!"
Closing his eyes tightly, he lowered his head until his chin was touching his chest.
There was a moment of absolute silence before Tatiana's trembling voice eventually reached his ears.
"The way you speak of them with such familiarity and passion. Perhaps things have worked too well. No, did Cythia have a hand in this?"
Her voice was quiet, speaking to herself quickly. Feeling more than a little confused, Dean opened his mouth to speak.
"Is this-"
However, before he could get another word out, Tatiana appeared before him out of nowhere, grabbed his hair and pulled his face up so that he was looking right into her eyes.
"Keeping you here is such a damned balancing act. Your soul was weakened to the point it almost vanished, and now it's regaining too much of itself too fast. Why can't you just stay the way I want you too?"
Her tone held a deep anger, and yet, desperate tears welled in her eyes even as her voice broke towards the end.
"Even after all these lifetimes together, you still surprise me, Dean. I hope you'll understand that what I'm about to do is necessary," she whispered, pulling his hair to the left and dragging him off the chair and onto the ground.
He hit the floor with a thud, and his vision went white for a moment. When it cleared, he was surprised to find himself in a completely different place. Instead of a study, he found himself in a bedroom with Tatiana still at his side. They weren't alone. Rosetta sat in her bed, shoulders shaking and hands clenched into tight fists.
"Recall the futility of all your actions to this point and see that they are not worth saving. That you yourself are beyond redemption." Tatiana said flatly.
Dean had no idea what she was talking about. She kept her gaze straight ahead and didn't seem interested in conversing in the slightest. He turned, following her gaze, and looked at the lonely girl sitting on the bed.
"Rose?" he asked, trying to get her attention.
If she could hear him, she gave no sign. She looked terrible, and every now and again she would cover her ears with her hands and shake her head from side to side.
"Rose, what's wrong with you. If-" Dean trailed off as he reached his hand towards her shoulder. It passed right through her as if she wasn't even there.
"You are only permitted to look, dear hero." Tatiana said in a dry, mocking tone. "This is a hidden chapter from a story already told. It can no longer be changed."
Dean glanced over her and was about to ask what she meant but was interrupted by a terrible scream.
"Stop it!"
His attention shot back to Rosetta, who was now on her feet. Finally, he could get a good look at her face and found it to be pale. her eyes red and cheeks wet with tears.
"Just leave me alone and stop talking to me!" she yelled at no one in particular. "I don't want to talk to anyone! Not Maria, not Dean or anyone else. I wish they'd all just leave me be!"
Losing all her energy, she collapsed back on the bed and buried her head in the pillow while still shaking it left and right. Eventually, she stopped.
"The voice won't go away, Maria hates me, and Dean probably thinks I'm useless. I couldn't even help him find that phone. It'd be better for all of them if I just wasn't here.""
Tatiana stepped forward and looked down at Rosetta.
"Rosetta is naught but a schizophrenic madwoman, well beyond saving. A lost cause, if ever there was one," she said.
Just who was Rosetta talking to? She seemed utterly defeated and kept looking at a sock puppet into which she had stuck her hand. Did she always behave this way behind closed doors? He recalled hearing her talk to herself on occasion when he visited her,
"You hear that?" Rosetta yelled. "I'm going somewhere where you'll never torment me again. Goddess, I hope they all miss me!"
Scrambling to her feet, she opened the drawer of her bedside table and took out several small jars that Dean noticed were medicine. At that moment he realised just what exactly he was seeing. A memory from Nicolas' book flashing within his mind.
"Rose, stop!"
There was nothing he could do. It took a very long time for it to end. All the while Dean was forced to watch. He quickly gave up on shouting at her to stop and was left there staring in silence.
"You couldn't save her then, and you can't save her now. Why even bother with someone who doesn't want to be saved?" Tatiana whispered into his ear with a smile.
His mind raced. Rosetta had been talking aloud in her final moments. Had the events of the previous story simply driven her to madness, or was there something more to it? He remembered the fight she had had with Maria, coupled with the stress of Addi's death. He had asked her to help him find a phone within the monastery, but she was chased off by Maria before they could find one. Was that enough to explain what he saw here?
"Tell me," he said after swallowing deeply. "Did you do anything to her to make her this way? Was she talking to you in her last moments?"
Tatiana shook her head.
"Of course not. She merely did what she did out of a mad desire for attention, nothing more," she said evenly, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "A sane person wouldn't end themselves for such trivial reasons. Now, let us move on."
Dean reached out his hands to stop her, but too late. The scene shifted, and Dean found himself in the nave of the grand cathedral. The first thing he noticed was that there were many people gathered near the altar. Nicolas, Maria and Methaeus. Around them was gathered a group of young people. Dean recognised them as the cult from the previous story.
"Now, see the cruelty that your friends can be capable of," Tatiana said with a laugh.
Dean opened his mouth to shout, but no sound came. Why even bother? Just like Rosetta, those whom he was watching would never hear him. As if under some strange compulsion, Dean watched carefully as Maria lifted her gun.
"Fine, then die." Maria growled, aiming her rifle right at the old man's face.
"Maria, wai-" Nicolas said, holding up his hand but too late.
A loud bang echoed, and the inner parts of Methaeus' head painted a nearby column.
Dean flinched at the sight, but he knew the worst was yet to come. Nicolas stared at the corpse for a moment, his shocked expression gradually turning into one of glee.
"Woah, Nick, what are you doing?" Maria asked as he moved.
Nicolas ignored her and leapt on Methaeus, a knife in his hand. Dean grit his teeth as Nicolas began cutting into Methaeus' remains.
Maria looked on in shocked silence for a moment before bursting out into laughter.
"I didn't know you had so much stress built up!" she said. "Goddess above, this is a bit much, even for me."
Her voice was high with laughter, but her eyes looked blank, as if she had no hope for a future. The members of the cult behind her reacted differently. As Nicolas madly continued his bloody work, some looked away while others lost their footing and began vomiting on their hands and knees. All the while, Nicolas made terrible noises that may have been laughter or screams of pain. It was difficult to tell.
"Someone stop him!" one girl said.
"Stop him? Why should we do that? He's come this far, so I think he deserves to let loose!"
The girl who had spoken first took a step back and looked away, a short sob escaping her lips.
"Make sure none of you forget this!" Maria shouted. "This is what'll happen to you if you disobey the savior!"
Alone in a dark corner, Cait openly sobbed to see her old friend commit such a heinous act. It took several minutes for Nicolas to return to his senses, and by the time he did, Methaeus was barely recognisable. The scene shifted back to that of the study.
Dean was struggling to maintain his composure as the scene ended. Why was he being shown this? Why did she have to be so cruel? Nicolas and Maria had made a sport out of killing an unarmed person. Did he really want to save such people? Did Rosetta even want to be saved? He felt an arm being wrapped around his shoulder.
"They mean nothing to us, Dean. They exist to fulfill our needs and nothing more. As gruesome as they are, their deaths are only temporary. You need not exhaust your soul trying to save them."
The familiar, cooing voice that had often felt off-putting to him now almost felt comfortable and reassuring as he unconsciously took her near-skeletal hand in his. He did it without thinking, but he needed to hold on to something, anything.
"They forget everything. When a new book begins, they forget everything, right? There's not a shred of old memories left?" he asked with not a small amount of desperation.
He prayed that none of them had been cursed with the ability to remember like he had.
"Of course," Tatiana said. "Mere characters like them aren't capable of remembering different lives. They're beneath the likes of you and I."
"And that's true of all of them, every time?" he asked.
There was a brief silence. He couldn't see Tatiana's face as she held him from behind. He wondered what expression she was making.
"Of course, Dean. Trust that the only thing either of us needs is each other. Feel pain at their actions and experiences, but do not dwell on it. Leave everything to me and simply read. That's all you have to do for now."
Yes, that was all he had to do. This was his prison, meant for him alone. There was no need to think too deeply about it. Everything was as he wanted it.
"Promise me that you'll keep reading. Promise that you'll play the hero for no one else but me."
Yes, that would be easier. It wasn't as if he had really wanted to save them in the first place. Surely, all that had happened was that his memories and experiences from within the book had bled into this outer world. They had nothing to do with the here and now. Honestly, what had come over him? Worrying about others like that.
"Always remember, Dean. You'll never be able to save anyone again," Tatiana whispered.
He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a sudden clap of hands.
"A fine show. If both of you are like this all the time, why, I wouldn't even need to read your books."
Tatiana clicked her tongue and turned to face the speaker. Adalet was standing by the doorway behind them, his boyish face cracking an amused smile.
"Dear guest," Tatiana said, her voice a little higher than usual. "Weren't you amusing yourself with a stroll around the great library?"
"I was," Adalet agreed. "But you see, my lady, the surge of emotions you just caused was probably felt by all present here. Those of our nature find it difficult to ignore such tempting fruit."
Tatiana was strangely silent as Adalet stepped into the study proper.
"Tell me, how do you manage to keep a soul tethered here even as it endures such cruelty? How do you make such wonderfully vibrant worlds despite your immaturity?"
Tatiana chuckled and closed her eyes.
"Lady Cythia chose me because of my talents," Tatiana said calmly. "You should know that my abilities far surpass any other when it comes to creation."
Adalet raised a eyebrow.
"Indeed?" he asked. "Well, it is a rare talent, That I can concede. It is not unheard of in others, however."
He walked right up to Tatiana and looked her straight in the eye. She maintained eye contact, but Dean thought he saw her swallow.
Adalet then turned his gaze towards Dean.
"And here I was hoping that you'd still be recovering from Cythia's attentions. Tell me, dormant one. Do you feel like this is the place your soul belongs to?"
"Wh-what are you talking about?" Dean asked, feeling an odd pressure settle around his head. He felt the sudden urge to speak the truth, as strange as that sounded.
Mind still reeling from what Tatiana had shown him, Dean found himself unable to get his thoughts in order and could only respond with idiotic questions.
"He's here of his own accord. It aught to be obvious to one such as yourself!" Tatiana snapped.
"Of course it is. And as such, I would like to question him. Call it simple curiosity on my part. I am, after all. Off duty."
"Now?" Tatiana asked with a brief burst of laughter. "We're in the middle of a reading right now. You will have to wait until we finish."
For a brief moment, Adelt's expression darkened, but it was quickly replaced with a polite smile.
"Excuse my rudeness, but it would be very convenient for me if we did this now."
It was strange. Usually, the temperature of this place never changed. It was as dull and unchanging as the color palette, almost imperceptible. But now, Dean could swear that the temperature had dropped y a good ten degrees or more.
"If you wait in the reading room, I will take him to you when-"
"I invoke the inquisitorial right." Adalet said, cutting Tatiana off.
For the first time since their conversation began, Tatiana's expression twisted to one of pure hate and fear. Adalet's expression remained neutral, a small smile on his lips.
Dean's muscles tensed as he expected Tatiana to attack the young man at any moment. After a long silence, Tatiana cleared her throat.
"I should see how the other guests are doing. Besides, it seems Dean needs a rest. You may do as you will, Inquisitor. Just remember your right only extends to questioning," she said.
As she stepped towards the door, Tatiana turned to Dean.
"Don't forget, you belong here by my side," she said with a sweet smile before fading into the darkness.
Dean felt an odd pressure now that he was alone with Adalet. The strange man, whose features almost resembled that of a young boy with an unusually tall stature and impossibly long blond hair, had an air about him that made it impossible to figure him out. Was he young or ancient? Friend or foe?
Adalet stepped forward so that he was standing right in front of Dean. He looked up at him with curiosity before nodding to himself.
"A cruel faith you've signed yourself up to, dormant one. Yet you have chosen it of your own free will, so I suppose there is no issue there. Come, sit."
Adalet gestured towards the chair in front of the study desk. As Dean sat himself down, he finally managed to ask a question of his own.
"Who are you, exactly?" He asked. "It looks like you're at odds with Tatiana."
Tatiana had called him a guest and an inquisitor. The first part was simple enough to understand. It seemed that Tatiana's works attracted a certain sort of clientele. The other name was a bit more difficult. He knew what an inquisitor was in broad terms, but who did he question and for what purpose? The title was rarely looked upon favourably by others.
"I am a guest here, and my nature is similar to Cythia though I have been honored with the position of inquisitor. Worry not, however, this is merely a… simple chat." Adalet explained.
Dean, whose mind was a little scrambled, couldn't bring himself to believe that what the man was doing could be considered a chat. The actions of inquisitors were never pleasant for those they were questioning, and that position had now fallen onto his shoulders.
"Worry not." Adalet said, having noticed Dean's apprehension. "I already know your situation, and while you may be complicit, your personal crimes are few. I really am just here for a friendly chat."
"A friendly chat with an inquisitor. That'll be a first," Dean said.
"I do hope the experience is enjoyable and productive for us both," Adalet said with a laugh.
Dean had no idea how exactly he was going to enjoy this, but he listened carefully as Adalet began his questioning with a 'now'.
"Where do you hail from originally. Do you remember that much?"
Great. The very first question was a very simple one, yet one he couldn't answer. Likely noticing his confused look, Adalet spoke up again.
"If you cannot recall, then you must give me your best guess."
Adalet's piercing gaze honed in on Dean's eyes. At that moment, Dean felt an irresistible urge to speak. He couldn't answer the question, but that didn't mean he couldn't explain why.
"I've been here a long time. Those books, they feel like entire lifetimes, so it's difficult to remember that far back, but-"
"Yes?" Adalet said expectantly.
Dean felt himself panic as an irresistible urge to speak his honest feelings surged from within.
"The place in Tatiana's stories and the people that inhabit it. They feel familiar."
Dean was surprised with himself. He hadn't given it much thought yet, but his words rang true. Everything about Mount Moore and the people within it seemed too real to him. It was no wonder that he had had the urge to save them despite Tatiana's best efforts to get him to believe they were nothing but mere characters.
"I see. And how do you feel about the people within? Surely, as a higher being, you do not care for them?" Adalet asked, as if reading his thoughts.
Dean pursed his lips as he thought for a moment. These questions seemed too specific. Had Adalet been listening in on his conversation with Tatiana?
He couldn't tell which sentiments were his own and which belonged to the Dean from the books. Did he consider them lifelong friends or merely fictional characters he was attached to?
He knew how he wanted to answer. He wanted to echo Tatiana's thoughts and say that they were nothing to him, that he was using them for his own needs. However, the urge to speak honestly was irresistible, and Adalet's eyes seemed to grow bigger as the pressure to answer grew more severe.
"I don't know, but-" he said, taking a breath. "But I don't like seeing them suffer like this. They should…they should be allowed to live out their lives happily."
His words had come out in a torrent. He felt a wave of embarrassment as his deepest thoughts were pulled to the surface. He knew that they likely owed their existence, however cruel, to Tatiana. They were supposed to be nothing more than fictional creations, and yet they felt so real to him.
"At the same time, I don't mind using them. They've done horrible things, so what's the harm right?" Dean said with a dark laugh. "They're just characters and their memories will be wiped clean for the next story, so there's no harm in ignoring their problems."
Adalet nodded.
Dean knew he was parroting Tatiana's words. However, if it turned out that there was something more to them, if they were people important to him, then he was part of something terrible and his already massive count of sins would only increase.
"I see. And what if I told you they were being held here against their will and suffering terribly as a result?"
Suffering. Well, that was obvious when reading, but that only mattered if they were real.
"Are they real?" Dean said, venturing his own question.
"Hard to say. I merely need to know your thoughts on a range of possibilities. So you will use fictional characters for your own ends, but genuine souls are off the table?" Adalet asked.
Genuine souls? Was Adalet referring to the likes of him and Tatiana? He cleared his throat, ready to speak to Adalet honestly once again.
"This place. This situation was meant for me. Nobody else should be subjected to it," Dean said.
Adalet let out a small laugh.
"That's the first time you've spoken with such conviction. I see, I see."
For whatever reason, Adalet seemed satisfied with Dean's answer. He leaned forward and spoke.
"The great one known as Tatiana. She writes stories and stores them in her great library. Her works have attracted many readers. Her talents for writing hope and suffering attract a certain type of clientele. Cythia, for example, who you met earlier."
Dean didn't know what exactly a great one was, but if Cythia and Adalet were of their number, then he didn't want anything to do with them. He made a mental note to refrain from wandering around too much in the future.
"Though you yourself are different. Your presence here is more… personal, and you are tied to this place as much as Tatiana herself. Tell me, what do you think of her?"
Again, the terrifying urge to answer as truthfully as possible crashed into him. Just what was going on here? However, even with the urge, it took him a while to answer. Not because he didn't want to be truthful, but because he had too much to say. She had been with him for far longer than he remembered. Often times she was irritating beyond belief, not to mention cruel and seemingly without a shred of empathy.
At the same time, if she wasn't around, then he'd be utterly alone and there'd be no outlet for the guilt he carried. His very reason for existing was tied directly to her. No matter how cruel she was, that fact would never change.
"She is the only reason I continue to exist," Dean said, his voice hollow.
Those small few words, flowing from his mouth, were so utterly unnatural that he openly winced after speaking. Since when could he spout such embarrassing lines to a complete stranger?
"I see. Good. That will do. I'm sure you have your reading to get back to, and it certainly wouldn't do to keep her waiting."
As Adalet got to his feet and broke eye contact, Dean felt the strange pressure around him dissipate.
"Wait!" he said, standing up alongside Adalet. "Who are you? I mean, who are you an inquisitor for, and what the hell did you do to me?"
Adalet gave him a sly-looking smile. To Dean, it seemed nothing short of cruel and threatening.
"I ask questions, Dean. I don't answer them," he replied in an icy voice. "Just remember that for a weak man like you, your inner thoughts are but an open book to me."
Dean was left gawking in silence as Adalet made his exit.
"Oh and one more thing." Adalet said, pausing at the door. "Should you ever decide that you want to exist without her support, then I will be your ally. No, I am your ally even now. Feel free to come to me whenever you wish. You can trust me with all your secrets."
With that said, Adalet disappeared beyond the door. Dean was left to think about the sudden proposal.
He couldn't even imagine an existence without Tatiana. Was he better off continuing to read her books, or would it be best to disappear forever, forgetting his sacred promise to himself? Were those he met in the books real or imaginary? Every time his mind leaned in either direction, something would come along and shift the scales.
Tatiana's book lay open on the desk. Yes, he didn't have to think about this now. It was starting to give him a headache. Funny how the book before him, cruel though the story may have been, felt so inviting.
At that moment, Tatiana stepped into the room, her lips drawn in a straight line and eyes sharp.
"Someone is in a hurry." She said flatly as she watched him approach the book. "Before you run away into that world, I would have words with you about what that imp spoke to you…hey!"
No, he knew that speaking to her would just shift the scales again, further muddling his mind. He was sick of being pulled one way and then the other. To avoid thinking about in any further, he threw himself back into the world of the book.