LII: Coordination

Michael helped Jazzy move around her apartment. She had lived here since the death of her parents. It had been hard at first, being mostly alone, and so young; a fourteen-year-old girl by herself with a largely absentee guardian sometimes had it rough, but Jazzy got along fine, somehow she always did. Unfortunately, for all that she was in familiar territory she was having trouble remembering where everything was and what the layout of the room was.

“You’re trying too hard,” Michael pointed out when she nearly tripped over a footstool, “your body knows where everything is, just trust it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jessica mumbled sourly, “you keep saying that. I never really had any eye-hand coordination, now it seems like I don’t have any coordination whatsoever.”

“It’ll come back, honey girl,” he said, trying to reassure her, “just give it time.”

“Hey, do you think that I can get out of phys. ed. now?”

“I hadn’t thought of it.”

“I guess I’ll have to try to explain it to them, somehow. Being a liberated teen is kinda hard,” she said and her blind eyes went wide with sudden shock.

“What? Jazz?”

“I can’t read anymore…” she whispered, blinding reaching her hand for his.

Michael took it and squeezed it gently.

“Guess you’re going to have to learn how read Braille?”

“I guess,” she murmured despondently, “if I’d known that it would’ve – ”

She had gone still, Seeing; a living room, a cat asleep on a brown sofa, a child playing on the floor. The child was surrounded by a strange green-blue light. The view changed, and Jessica started. The woman was tall, taller than any woman she had ever seen before, surrounded by darkness that was steeped in blood. So much power there.

“The Witch Queen,” she whispered, knowing instantly.

LI: Unravelling

Alyxa sat, huddled, against the headboard of the enormous bed that was the primary furnishing of the room. She was wearing some sort of elaborate Victorian gown, complete with corset and bustle, in a shade of violet that she would never had thought possible. It didn’t matter, of course, none of it did. She had been here, how long? Days? Months? Years?

“Though it wouldn’t matter, I can’t Dream while I’m here, so it dreams me. The days dream, time fades, I can’t see, everything is the same and nothing is different,”
she blinked, it was her voice, saying those words.

“If you do not release us, she is going to lose herself, Lucifer.”

“Morpheus?”

Alyxa lifted her head and looked around. He was standing by the door. She liked the way the white shirt he was wearing opened, leaving the hollow of his throat naked. She saw Lucifer too, Hell’s King was radiant, wild around the edges.

“Run fingers over skin,” Alyxa mumbled, “I don’t remember putting on purple.”

By the door, Morpheus crossed his arms.

“You see?” he demanded.

“You might have a point.”

“Voice,” Alyxa murmured before she could stop herself. She shook herself, “Morpheus!”

He came to her then, and took her into his arms, holding her close.

“I can’t stay much longer. I can’t sleep here. I can’t Dream here. I’m losing it,” she told him, surprised by how panicked she sounded.

“I suppose you might have a point, darling,” Lucifer said to Morpheus, “but you’re my guests, and I’m your warden.”

“You’re getting your words mixed up again, Morning Star,” Morpheus snarled.

“And you’ve not even given my suggestion any thought,” Lucifer countered.

“We will not help release you, it’s unthinkable.”

“Not even if I can keep the world safe from Baldur?” Lucifer asked.

L: Patterns

It was quiet now, but the riots of colours that Jessica kept seeing kept falling back into place and every time she moved her head they showed her Lucifer’s beautiful face, looking up at her through the kaleidoscope. It made her laugh whenever she saw it, the white-blonde hair, and startling blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” Michael asked her, moving to stand behind her.

Now that she knew, now that she could feel his presence and knew what it meant.

“I’m super,” she told him, laughing out loud, “I don’t know how, but I can see.
None of the normal things, I can’t see the table, but I know it’s there, I can’t see you, but I know you, I can feel you. I know who you are.”

“I know you do. Morgan never had the chance to tell you, that the curse Apollo set upon your line was lifted when Lucifer Fell,” he said, and she laughed again.

“I know, I can feel that. He Fell and the One lifted the curse after consultation with Apollo, they decided between them that it was best that way.

“You’re doing well,” Michael told her, caressing her shoulders, “the doors are opening for you.”

“Do you think it will happen? Do you think I’ll be able to bring the Dreamer across?”

She laughed again. Excited by everything, it was terrifying how much she understood now, how far forward and backwards she could See. It was amazing. Everything made total sense, she could see the great pattern, the whorls and lines.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, “like your light. Just beautiful. I can’t describe it, I don’t know what it is, but I can see it and it’s so gorgeous I could eat it.”
Michael chuckled.

“Eating ripples of fate will give you indigestion.”

XLIX: Knowing

“Jazzy!”

Michael burst into the room, ignoring everyone else. He could feel her pulling at him even before she had called him. It was painful, the way she pulled at him, never before had he felt such a pull, not from any of the Cassandrians. All of that stopped irritating him when he saw her, his Jessica, lying flat on her back, twisting in the middle of her transformation.

“How long has she been like this?” he demanded, glancing at the man who was kneeling at her side.

“Since she called you.”

Michael glanced at him and around the room, seeing the faces of the men and women he knew but never seen. Aeron was the one near Jessica. Delia and Tiffany, two witches of lesser power, standing by each other, the youngest. Mark and Michaela.

“Give her space, she needs to find her own way back,” Michael instructed.

“Who is this guy?” Delia demanded, but her father waved her to silence.

“Only the Loremaster knows what happens when the Diviner’s Sight is passed on,” Mark declared.

“No Loremaster since before Morgan has seen that passage of power,” Michaela pointed out.

“Lore isn’t enough,” Aeron said, “not for something like this. What I know I learned, what is happening now is beyond my knowing.”

“And why is he – ” Delia started.

“Will you shut up?” Michael demanded impatiently, kneeling to touch Jessica’s face.

She stopped writhing instantly, and opened her eyes. They were colourless now, the deep blues were gone, bleached pale.

“Mic’hael,” she breathed, her voice filled with a new timbre, with power, “I See.”

When she said his name she said it the way it was meant to be spoken. She knew then, the first door had been opened. She would open the others soon.

“Mic’hael, I Know.”

XLVIII: TrueSight

Jessica laid her head down on the table where Aeron had left her. Where was Michael? She didn’t dare shut her eyes, any moment now she would see nothing except the haze of colours. Where was Michael? I need Michael! Every time she thought about his name a burst of light flashed through the pattern of colours, it was the only thing that varied.

Then it was gone.

All of it.

“Aeron!” she shouted, reaching forwards blindly.

“What’s wrong?”

I can’t see! I can’t see! She wanted to shout at him. Then the patterns stopped swirling and she took a breath.

“I can see,” she breathed.

The patterns fell into place like a jigsaw puzzle upon completion, and then it started to move. She saw a brilliant light floating high on top of a mountain, spawning smaller lights that tumbled down the mountainside until they burst onto the land. One light blurred towards her in a rush, then burst into her vision until all she saw was black spots. One of the lights turned dark, dashing down into the earth, deeper and deeper, the earth closing around it.

“What is it, Jessica?” Aeron’s voice asked her, “what do you see?”

If this had not been TrueSight, she would have had no idea what to tell him, but she knew because she could See.

“The Fall. Lucifer’s Fall.”

Morgan’s voice came, unbidden into her vision.

“You will guide them out of Lucifer’s gilded cages.”

The light burned down into the earth, contained by it but also containing it, creating its own world, its own realm. Lucifer’s light did not dim, and he looked up, born anew. He saw the world through new eyes. Lucifer rose. She saw the fac of the one who cast him back.

“Michael!” she shouted, reaching out.

XLVII: Need

The blurry-water-effect she had described to Delia was getting worse, as the daylight grew brighter her vision grew worse and worse. As soon as she stopped trying to blink it away, however, she realized that she was seeing bright colours in random patterns. It was starting to scare her, more than just a little bit. Blinking rapidly the world swam in front of her eyes. She took a step forwards and felt something knock against her hip.

“Jessica?”

She turned in the direction of the side of Aeron’s voice.

“I didn’t think it was going to go this fast,” Jessica whispered, groping a hand around. Tears flooded into her eyes, “I need Michael. Where’s my phone? Where’s my phone!”

Aeron caught her hand and gave it a light squeeze. She reached into her pocket and tried to find her phone. It slipped from her grasp and clattered onto the floor. Jessica made to get it, but Aeron stopped her, guiding her into a chair instead.

“Sit, I’ll get it.”

“I’m not an invalid,” she snapped as he pressed her phone into her hand. She blinked stubbornly.

This was not going to happen! It was happening, and she knew there was nothing she could do about it. She thumbed her phone, trying to navigate it. She could not see it properly.

“Michael. I need Michael,” she mumbled, trying to remember where it was. If only she had bothered to set the voice recognition, she wouldn’t be in this blasted mess.

“Let me,” Aeron offered.

“No! I can do this!” Jessica retorted, angered by her incapability, but Aeron took the phone and did it anyways, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Hey babe,” Michael’s voice sounded, instantly calming her, “you need me?”

“I’m at the coven house. I need you.”

“I’m coming.”

XLVI: Waking

Morgan had bought a casual coffin, but an expensive one all the same. From the way Aeron told her, she had dressed herself in her best clothes the night before and had called him to tell him to come and ‘collect’ her no later than 9am, which was when he had found her. She had made all the appropriate arrangements, having sent out invitations to her funeral and wake that week and even gone so far as ask Aeron to prepare a few modest remarks – nothing too fancy, she had insisted.

Jessica wandered around aimlessly. The Darjeeling house was empty save for the coven members that were not ‘elsewhere’, which is how Aeron explained their absence. Jessica did not know many of them personally. It felt strange being amongst them as Morgan’s successor.

“Drink?” Delia asked, handing her another glass of white wine.

Jessica accepted it with thanks. Delia was Aeron’s eighteen-year-old daughter, destined to follow her father as Coven Loremaster. This meant she was a brainiac.

“You alright?” she asked her, and Jessica blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes.

“Yeah.”

“It’s happening already isn’t it? You’re the youngest Cassandrian, so you’re inheriting all the gifts and curses. Am I right?”

Jessica looked at her, struggling to keep her vision from blurring.

“Yes, you’re right.”

Delia’s eyes lit up and she drew Jessica off to one side.

“What’s it like?”

Jessica stared at her. What kind of question was that?

“It’s like going blind,” Jessica told her flatly, “my eyesight is going, Delia, it’s not something you can just describe.”

“But is it like being blindfolded or is it like something else?”

Jessica took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Delia was just trying learn.

“It’s like trying to blink water from your eyes only it doesn’t help.”

XLV: Losing

It started the next day.


Jessica was brushing her teeth when she noticed that the world in the mirror was fading around the edges. She had to brace herself against the sink, knowing what it was.

“It’s alright, Jazzy,” she told herself, “take a breath. It’s okay.”

The phone chose to ring, but she already knew what it was. People to tell her that Morgan Mirkhill had passed away in the morning, found by Aeron Smithson. Most likely it was Aeron himself, but Jessica left that to surprise. She stumbled towards where the phone sat and whisked it to her ear.

“Yes?”

“Jessica?”

“Aeron,” she replied, “I’ve been waiting for your call.”

“I thought you might have been. You know, don’t you?”

“That Morgan is dead. She told me, yesterday,” Jessica told him, “can you come and pick me up? I assume she’s had all her things in order and the wake will be in a few hours?”

“You guessed correctly. You’re handling this better than I thought you would.”

Jessica tried not to laugh. As much as she hated it, Morgan was dead, and had given her a warning, so she was as prepared as she could be. She had not been particularly close to Morgan anyways.

“I can come and collect you in an hour. You’re not okay to drive?”

Jessica looked around, the fading had stopped spreading but it was enough to make her worry.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Already losing it then,” Aeron murmured, “I’m sorry, Jessica.”

“It’s alright,” Jessica lied, trying to still her heart-rate, “I’ll be ready. I’ll be waiting, call me on my cell when you get here, I don’t know how fast this is going to go.”

“Alright, honey.” Don’t call me honey, Jessica wanted to tell him, but she left it.