Sheila, dark Sheila, what is that you're seeing?
What is that you're seeing, that you're seeing in the fire?
'I see a lad that loves me-and I see a lad that leaves me,
and a third lad, a Shadow Lad-and he's the lad that grieves me.'
Chapter One
It was hard to tell exactly when the whole thing started. That first little step into madness is so easy that the next follows close without nary a thought. Bain inspires madness in many people, but I'm really not sure what he did to me. I should be immune, after all, I am as he is.
Bain is legion. It matters not what he calls himself; he is
always the same. He is the devil in a long robe. But only if the devil were a strikingly handsome man with pale blond hair cut short on top,almost a crew cut, ice blue eyes paler than cold, who wears his skin as marble.
The first time I set eyes on him was long ago. I was sent after him. By whom or for what purpose I knew not, but when I am called, I must go. I was in his audience chamber, waiting. It was a handsome room, gird in chesnut and mahogany, and his throne was a marvel of red velvet. The walls were panelled and in some corners, carved into shapes. Everytime I looked away, the carvings changed again. His subjects were standing on the main floor, looking expectantly up at the throne. They were strange
things. All were beautiful, but when I looked closely, I saw that they were all flawed in some way. Such was their mark. It seemed only fitting that Bain's subjects were marked like their master. But Bain was a fair master, which was probably the closest these creatures ever got to kindness in their purgatory.
When I heard a sound, I crept out of the upper chamber to the
anteroom. There I saw him, as I clung to the ceiling. He was pale, and looked as I mentioned before. The one mark of colour was the crimsom frockcoat he wore. It seemed a stain upon his features, but it suited him utterly. I crept back inside the audience chamber before he saw me.
He had some papers in his right hand and was using them to gesture to one of his monstrous subjects. The crowd dispersed as he paused at the portal of the audience chamber, and looked up. At me. He didn't see me; I'm not what I am because of carelessness, but I saw him shudder for a brief minute when he looked up at the space I occupied. He quickly composed himself and went to the door.
The herald brought himself to attention, blew his trumpet, and announced his master.
"Our Lord Bain!" he shouted as the enormous doors blew open.
The subjects parted to leave a clear path to Bain's throne. No one looked at Bain as he stode up to the dais and seated himself on the throne, carefully arranging the tails of his frockcoat and moving his sword out of the way.
Another herald, even more officious than the last, ran out from some space near the dais, arranged himself in front of Bain, and bellowed the rather anti-climatic "State thy business with our Lord!" and then the herald scurried away, forgotten already.
I listened to the subjects for a while, but I couldn't hear a word they said. I got the impression that their business was mudane; Bain seemed to be growing steadily more exasperated with every visitor.
A few hours later, the officious herald trotted back from wherever he kept himself, bellowed "Enough!" and left. With that, Bain got up from the throne, walked through the now-empty audience chamber, and gave a sad glance around the ceiling. I waited until I heard the doors slam behind him until I moved.
The room was more than silent. There was no sound at all; if I listened enough, I could hear the dust motes as well as see them. Sometimes the silence is calming, other times, it drives me mad as the grave. It reminds me of much I want to forget. Ah, on to duty.
I jumped down from the high balcony onto the softly polished wood below. The silence didn't even move. Onward. So then I went, walking through the doors, not bothering to open them, and on to where I knew I would find Bain.
