A Binding Contract

Marchioness Hilda was Priscilla’s adoptive mother. Though Priscilla refused to divulge much about her former caretaker, she did tell me that her mother was once chief poisoner for the Brightchilds. Namely, she worked with a very specific kind of poison that could induce dreams that lasted indefinitely, a dream serum. Priscilla spoke of how often her mother mentioned creating the perfect dream, a dream where people could start their lives over no matter how miserable a situation they were in before. The question was not if her mother could create a dream but when, since, according to Priscilla, her mother was quite talented in her field of work.

"At the end of the day, it doesn't sound too bad, getting a chance to reroll your fate," Priscilla said after one such conversation after ranting about her mother for a good hour. "Would you take up her offer? I would if my mother wasn't a total psychopath."

I thought about her question for a moment.

"It would depend," I replied.

Priscilla leaned in closer, an inquisitive look set on her face.

"Oh, you would? But there is a catch. You'd have to forget about the life you lived before."

"Everything?" I asked.

"Everything."

I looked at Priscilla. It would be great to erase the sorrows of my past. But that would also mean forgetting the joys of my present as well.

"And you'd still do it?" I asked.

She twisted her lips.

"Well, I wouldn't want to forget about you guys at the Dawn," she said. "You guys are my life now. But everything else, I wouldn't miss one bit."

I shook my head.

"I don't know, it sounds super sketchy," I said. "I'd rather be able to time travel to the past and right all the wrongs in my life."

Priscilla smiled.

"You and me both," she said.

I wouldn’t be surprised if the nightmare we were in was, in fact, that very night Hilda had spoken so often of making.

“At the risk of saying too much,” Iris continued, “I will say that Hilda was the one who came up with the compromise to give your lord a second life. The Order wanted to kill her outright.”

“As opposed to killing her slowly?"

“I know many that would love a chance to live a full life and die happy, even in an alternate reality like this,” she said, raising her hands up at the void that surrounded us. “You should be thankful that my boss risked life and limb to deliver this not only to her daughter but to her woefully inept cheon-sa as well.”

I crossed my arms as I surveyed the void. The longer I stared at it, the more I felt my mind begin to slip away from me. I quickly looked back at Iris.

“I don’t think sending an assassin after a Seraph is much of a risk to Hilda,” I said.

Iris shook her head.

“The Order may have agreed to a delayed death for your lord, but they gave my boss a condition,” she said. “Should your lord ever wake from this nightmare alive, my boss’s life will be forfeit. Quite generous of the Marchioness, if you ask me.”

I smiled. She had just given crucial information that she may not have wanted to give away.

“So it is possible to escape from this nightmare,” I said.

Iris’s eyes widened.

"No-"

"Maybe it won't be easy, but why mention the condition at all if escape wasn't possible?" I said.

Iris quickly covered her mouth in feigned surprise. The way she acted made me wonder if she had given away the information on purpose.

On one hand, she may have genuinely made a mistake and was now trying to cover it up. On the other, she could have been playing me from the start. I still didn't know what her motives were. I had to glean as much information from her while she still found me useful.

At the very least, it sounded like Priscilla was alive, great news given that the last time I saw Priscilla she was lying unconscious on the bridge. Moreover, it sounded like there was a way for her to escape the nightmare without the poison killing her.

“Tell me how to escape the nightmare alive, and the Dawn will pay triple what your master promised you," I said.

The girl froze before laughing maniacally. She continued to cover her mouth as she laughed as if she was embarrassed to show her teeth.

“What I want can’t be secured by money,” she said, pointing her staff at me.

Iris suddenly stood up from the stump and lifted her staff. A pair of golden wings unfurled from behind her back, each twelve feet in length.

I immediately felt a surge of panic. They were without a doubt the wings of a Seraph. They were fully feathered and glowed with a powerful intensity that outshone the light of her pitcher. I noticed that the wings were battered and torn, though it did not diminish their otherworldly splendor.

If I remember Priscilla correctly, she said that the power of a Seraph was tied directly to the number of wings they owned. Their power increased exponentially with each wing that was added, then additively after the fourth wing. On a good day, I could keep up with Priscilla, a one-winged Seraph, in a fair fight. Fighting a two-winged Seraph was simply out of the question.

Iris was no longer smiling. The playful look was gone from her eyes. She took a step toward me. I took a step back. That prompted a chuckle from Iris.

“Listen,” I said, trying to keep a level voice. “If you help me find my lord, we will be more than happy to help you escape with us. I'm sure the outside world is a lot nicer than this dreadful place.”

"You really think so?"

Iris lowered her staff and removed the pitcher attached to the end of it. She plucked a golden feather from one of her wings and rolled it up into a makeshift glass. Then she poured herself a glass of what I believe was apple cider before setting the pitcher down on the stump beside her. She swirled the cider around for a moment but did not bother to enjoy its aroma. She took a small sip from the glass before pinning its sharp quill into the stump beside her pitcher.

“Some of us are here because we want to be,” she said pointedly.

I looked around the thorny garden and the empty void that surrounded us. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't terribly warm either. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be here by choice.

“Look, you seem like a decent person despite your horrendous record as a guardian angel, Titus Ko,” she said. “Before you decide whether escaping is a good idea or not, why not ask your lord what she wants?”

I raised my chin. She knew where Priscilla was.

“Please take me to her,” I said.

“I will,” she promised. "All I ask is a small favor in return,”

She smiled softly like a hunter who had just witnessed her prey stepping into a meticulously hidden trap. Her eyes glistened with excitement.

I bit my lip.

“I’m listening,” I said.

Iris lazily waved her hand. The field of thorny vines parted down the middle and hurried to the edges of the garden as if fleeing from an open flame. A clear dirt path now stood between Iris and me. The Seraph walked toward me until we stood at arm’s length. She looked at me as one did when deliberating whether or not stepping on a roach would be worth the effort.

“When the time comes, you will help me free a Prisoner from the nightmare,” she said, pointing at me. “Give me your word, and I will take you to your lord right now.”

I knew this was a trap, but I needed to find Priscilla. I could try to run away from Iris, but I had a feeling she wasn’t about to let me just walk away. The last thing I wanted was to risk my life fighting a two-winged Seraph before I even had a chance to find Priscilla. There was no way to know what repercussions dying in this nightmare would have on my body in the real world.

“What is the prisoner to you?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Answers to questions I have,” she said. “And no, freeing the Prisoner will not jeopardize your chances of escape. You have my word.”

She held out her hand for me to shake.

“What do you say, Titus, last of the Sempronians?”

It bothered me that she knew so much about me, Priscilla, and Eleanor. There were details in the nightmare I had not shared with anyone, not even Priscilla It was possible that my emotions had formed parts of the nightmare that the designer had left open to interpretation. This was often done to allow a dreamer’s own fears to be the driving creative force behind a nightmare. Of course, everything I had seen until now could just as easily have been Iris's sadistic handiwork.

The only thing I knew for certain was that if Iris really was the Host of the Nightmare, she knew how to escape from it. I had to figure out a way to glean that information from her while we were still on good terms.

I hesitantly took her hand and shook it.

She shook back.

As I pulled my hand away, I noticed that Iris was not letting go.

I raised our hands in front of her face.

“Hey, you gonna let go?” I asked.

Iris's smile deepened.

“So we have a binding magical covenant,” she said.

It was at that very moment that I knew I had agreed to something I didn't want to. A magical covenant was something that couldn't be broken without something terrible happening. But in order for one to be made, both parties had to be fully aware that such a covenant was being forged as well as of the penalties for violating the agreement.

Before I could ask how she managed to bypass this stringent requirement, Iris waved her free hand and created a portal above the stump. The portal was flat. Its surface was dark and glossy, like polished obsidian. There was a stillness to the portal that induced sheer terror in my heart. Every fiber of my body told me that something awful was going to happen if I crossed that threshold.

I tried to break free of Iris's grasp, but Seraphs were strong, many times stronger than the average human. I tried to push her away with my kinetic magic, but nothing happened. It was as if I had never used magic before in my life.

Iris noticed my struggle and laughed.

"Once you find your lord," she said. "Meet me in the Golden City. And don't worry. I'll return your magic to you, once you reach the other side."

Before I could scream, she threw me straight into the portal. Before I lost consciousness, I remember being glad she didn't chuck me off the edge of the garden instead.