The Healer Leads A Double Life (As A Shapeshifting Demoness!)

Charlie did not see. Charlie was not there.

Charlie was asleep. Charlie was dead. Charlie was dreaming.

Beyond the realm of dreams,

"...in the far lands where dying stars reign over the heavens of scorched wastelands. Fields of bleached stones make mockery of forms that have been, and are yet to come."

Out far too far see not see not want. knives reach out to grab the hands. killers weep at mercy, caught they are in sunlight sunlight sun 
LIGHT

LIGHT!

L-IG...HT

"They are caught in sunlight."

Beyond the fraying collection of sentiments that Charlie called a spirit, a presence lurked. The promise of twilight. The twisted mercy of night's cloak. The heat of midnight passion and insomniac fever. Abandoned by Juneia, and far from the sight of LIGHT, it swept Charlie into it's embrace. Out in the all-encompassing seas of gray mist, Charlie vanished.

I woke up in a seaside cave. I woke up in pain. I woke up in twilight. It was an all-encompassing ache, but it was no longer the overpowering pain of Juneia's tender mercies. I had never felt so helpless before- so caught up in the will of another. She had complete control over me- over my life, it seems! But she chose only pain. I know that sounds... kind of hot. I had sat up now and as I described it to myself... I can see how it sounds like that. A little. Some people might like it, either to imagine or even to experience. But I did not walk in their shoes.

I shook my head and stood up- I needed to keep moving. At the mouth of the cave, where the waters had carved their entrance, I could see a glimmer of moonlight reflected on the gentle waves. I felt... warm. Then heat bloomed... sick and twisted. Fever began pouring into me like mercury into a glass. I was also completely naked. I knew I was risking hypothermia but I was about jump into the water when a voice swam out from the darkness behind me.

"You won't wanna do that sugar. Your body ain't exactly real right now, but unfortunately your suffering sure is."

I stumbled, and caught myself on the stone. It's coolness soothed a fraction of my sorrows. I turned about.

Emerging from the shadows was a figure of tarnished silver and dull ruby. A tattered shift of ocean-blue linen was wrapped about their form. Their short hair was the black of deepest void, but matted and sickly. Two broad silver circles jutted out from their hair, above their forehead, but they were jagged and oozing some vital fluid. They were tired and thin, and they were hungry, but their silver eyes still shone with passion, intelligence, and... something else. I don't know how long I watched them. Even in their diminished state, something mesmerised me still. They were the complete opposite of Juneia, but there was an earnestness to their sickly majesty. Like a dying king riding out to defend his people one last time.

I spoke, "I... can you help me? I'm sorry I'm burning up I can't think can't..."

I cut myself off. I didn't want to descend into maddened mutterings.

A smile. Sweet like the first taste of cold water after a long day. They reached out a hand to my brow, and I felt a shift. The walls were a little less well-painted, the tides were a little more mechanical, and the sliver of light that we had felt just that touch more artificial. Their smile became a little tighter, but fever and pain fled from my body- hand in hand.

"I've relieved your suffering for now sugar, but I ain't got the power to do it forever. Not unless you do something for me," they sat cross-legged and swept an arm out to either side. That permanent smile became desperate- and hungry, "Sit down sweet thing, make a deal with a devil."

I crossed my legs and took a moment to compose myself, as best as I could. I had been a student- and kind of a loser. High-stakes negotiations weren't meant to be in the cards for me, but I had an idea of how to read people- I thought.

I ignored the sweat rolling down my back, and their casual disregard for my total nudity, "Thank you for giving me some relief from that pain. I want to know... just a few things first. Does making a deal with you "taint" my soul in anyway? If there is a heaven or a cycle of reincarnation, then I am afraid I will have to decline. Also, what exactly would you want on my end? I assume whatever I do will be to empower or heal you in some way and... well that sounds good I'm just worried what I would actually be doing."

They hid their desperation and chuckled, rich and tempting... then they coughed, and kept coughing. I leaned forward across the space dividing us, "Are you alright? I mean... can I help?" I raised a hand above their back, unsure of what to do. From a hitherto unseen pocket, they produced some ugly scrap of cloth and coughed into it. Vital fluids dyed the ocean-blue cloth a disturbingly dark tint of burnt wine.

I leaned back and they straightened up, still holding that cloth between both fists, "I'm Fading, sugar. Despite the name, it ain't a sweet slip into quiet oblivion. To give you some answers, of a kind- no, dealing with me ain't gonna taint your soul. Not like how you mean it; you ain't gonna be paying a visit to ol' Morning Star any time soon. Now, it'd ruin how Juneia treats ya when ya die, but you and I both know she's tryna use you as her personal plaything, so that don't matter much. The deck's already stacked against ya when it comes to reincarnation sugar."

I nodded, and they continued, "I ain't got time to explain all the details sugar. This world you're sheltered in is safe, but it's Fading, same as me. When it dies you're going back out into the Eternal Sea, back out to whatever hellscape Juneia has planned for ya," their smile turned into a smirk," I can free ya of that, and shield you from her sight, but you'll need to spread my cult... and live how I would. I am all that I am, and all that I am is the Night. I ain't eternal shadow, and I ain't death. I am the heat of midnight passion and the cover of darkness. But you can call me Sirona."

Something stirred in the back of my mind at that name. It was a good memory, but I couldn't place it. It had been a cruel thing to be caught in the clutches of a terrible and sadistic Goddess. It didn't seem so strange to gamble my fate with a humble, soothing, and soft-spoken devil. I stretched out a hand to shake, and they grasped it with a shuddering, thankful sigh.

"Please take good care of me, Sirona," I smiled.

"I will. Please look after me, Charlie."

"I will." Power quickened in their eyes, silver and grand, and all the colour drained from the walls around us. I turned my head to watch as the water turned to sand, then to dust. I looked back at Sirona and they had vanished. In the span of a blink, the Fading little world we had taken shelter in had been replaced with a sea of grey-mist. It seemed to stretch off into infinity, without a horizon or kind of limit to it's expanse- except for in front of me. There was a rainbow orb in the far distance. It's patterns appeared and disappeared without rhyme nor reason but the orb itself was still, hanging in space like the eye of an unblinking god. I was drifting towards it and I could not seem to stop myself.

I tried to control my movement but my hands passed straight through the mist. I don't know how long it took me to reach the orb but I tried everything I could think of. I meditated, I prayed to God, to Sirona, I even did my best to recite Frank Herbert's 'Litany against Fear'. Nothing worked, although the latter did make me feel a little more in control of myself, if nothing else.

Eventually, the Orb drew closer. It towered over me, inscrutable and strange. It hummed with power. It whispered sweet nothings. It shouted and screamed. It stirred my heart and gave shape to my deepest fears. I was not meant to see this. I could feel my hold on my self fraying, but I managed to hold together long enough to reach the surface. In an attempt to re-assert control over my life, I reached out a hand to touch it, before it consumed me regardless. My hand sunk beneath it's skin without any sign of disturbance. I couldn't feel anything different, not even a kind of resistance to breaking the surface. With only a vague idea that this had something to do with my reincarnation as arranged by Juneia, I shrugged, and waited for the orb to cover me completely.

A/N: The Leper from Darkest Dungeon is really cool. That character is an inspiration for me as a person.