Amy

I woke up early the next morning, as was my wont, only to frown in confusion when I realized there had been no knock upon my door, or call to rouse me from my sleep. I’d woken up entirely on my own - and not because I’d gotten enough sleep, either. In fact, I felt even more tired than I’d been when I’d gone to bed, as if I’d somehow expended more energy than I’d gained during a night of rest.

More worrisome, however, was the fact that I had no recollection whatsoever of my dreams the night before. I’d assumed that now that I was actually aware of Amelia’s presence, I’d have an easier time remembering our dream-based conversations, but that didn’t seem to be the case at all.

I wondered if the two things were perhaps connected? If I had been woken in the dream, and thereby woken up here despite the lack of any outside stimuli. If that was the case, though, one would think I’d have some vague feeling of fear or anxiety within me, left over from whatever had awoken me - yet there was none.

…Well, none I could trace back to my dreams at least. I had plenty of anxiety about Amelia’s presence, and what Clara might have been plotting, and why she hadn’t detected I was awake and come knocking on my door. Still, I was fairly certain that all of it was from the waking world, rather than something I’d picked up during my sleep.

“Amelia?” I asked, having come to the conclusion that the only way to know anything about what had happened was to go directly to the source. “Could you remind me what we discussed last night?”

We didn’t, came the terse reply. You never showed up.

“…I didn’t? Doesn’t that mean you were alone in there? Without anyone to talk to, or anything to see?”

How kind of you to care. I could feel the sarcastic intent coming from her - as if her tone wasn’t enough of a clue, already. 

“I do care, as a matter of fact,” I informed her, frowning a little. Not that I was entirely sure she had any way of telling that I was doing so, but with luck my tone - and perhaps even some of my own feelings on the matter - would carry through.

Really? Then why won’t you open the door in here?

“Because you still haven’t told me what that would do!” I replied, trying and failing to control my volume.

And if I told you it would free me? She asked. That it would allow me to rise to the surface, and take back what is rightfully mine?

I fell silent at that, unsure how to reply. The mere thought of that terrified me - the thought that she might take over this body, and put me in that little room she was currently stuck inside.

As I thought. You don’t care at all, do you? You’re just putting up a front to make me cooperate.

“I do care,” I insisted. “You’d know if I didn’t - even if your power isn’t the most reliable thing, it would most certainly go off if I was outright lying about that fact.”

This time she fell silent, and for a moment I thought it was because my intention had gotten through to her.

Until something else occurred to me.

“You… do still have access to that power, do you not?”

Again, a moment of silence. Then, right as I was about to press further, she spoke.

Powers such as mine come from the intermingling of one’s core and one’s soul. Unfortunately for me - and perhaps even you, if you really are telling the truth - I have no access to the front half of that equation.

“You… don’t have access to the core?” I asked, frowning. “But.. you’re able to control the spell I cast?”

I am able to influence spells you cast, yes. But I cannot cast any spells of my own, in my current state. It’s all I can do just to influence what you’ve created.

“Wouldn’t that still take some form of access to the core, though?” I asked. “Since you’re influencing the final result and all?”

…Perhaps, Amelia responded, her tone thoughtful this time. If I have any access at all, though, I fear it’s only on a superficial level. You meanwhile are seated within the very heart of the core. I’m fairly certain that’s the reason why you have total control, while I’ve had to fight for even the smallest scrap of influence over you and your spells.

“My soul… is within the core?” I asked, wanting to make sure that I understood her.

I can’t say for certain - but yes, I suspect so. People have theorized for the longest time that the soul itself must live within the core, as where else could the font of power that fills it with magic possibly come from? Yet even now, I cannot say for sure. It’s merely the answer that makes the most sense to me, on a personal level.

My frown deepened as I fell into thought, again. “I… I opened a door for you at one point, didn’t I? The closet door?”

Yes.

“Did that… is that why you’re able to influence my spells, now? Why I can hear you so clearly?”

The reason you can hear me is the computer you turned on - but yes, I suspect so. Up until now, I had assumed it was merely the body itself, or perhaps even your mind, or some such, but now… Well, honestly, I’m still not sure. But I can say with certainty that opening that closet door gave me access to something at least.

“And you seriously expect me to open the door for you?” I asked, incredulously. “To let you all the way in? So that you can shove me out again?”

We don’t know for certain that I’d be able to shove you out, even if you let me in, Amelia pointed out. But no, I don’t expect you to do so. I simply wanted to point out your hypocrisy in claiming that you actually care.

“I do care!” I insisted. “I’ve always cared! You were my favorite character in the entire series, for goodness sakes! The only one I could actually connect to, prior to coming here.”

Amelia scoffed. You cared about me as a character on a page. As a being you thought you had created - and yet still fully intended to kill. Now that I actually stand before you as a person, you couldn’t care less about my fate - only your own, and - to a lesser extent, I’m sure - your friends.

“That’s…” I hesitated a moment, biting my lip. “I… It’s true that I didn’t know that you were real. And that I planned for you to die, as a character - even though I really didn’t want you to. But please, believe me, I would never consign you to death, now that I know that you are real.”

No - you’d just keep me trapped and locked away for all eternity, living your life in my body until the day we both die.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” I replied. “I… I’m sure we can figure something out, between us - you, me, Clara, and… and maybe even the others…”

You can’t seriously be considering telling Bridgette or Firanna? Amelia asked, incredulous. Pauline is one thing - she’s too nice for her own good, so I doubt she’d have it in her to betray you - but those two would report to the king the instant the words ‘Amelia’s back’ left your mouth.

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want to tell them, but… I don’t know… Maybe after we figure out a plan? A way to potentially let you… I don’t know… have some limited control over the body? Or maybe… maybe I could make some form of illusion spell? That way you could make a body, and project a voice, but wouldn’t actually be able to touch anything or harm anybody!”

So you’d keep me on a leash, in other words? Let me out, but never let me truly be free? Never let me hold influence, or make my own choices, or even come out in the first place without you first channeling the spell, and keeping it active until you decide you’re done with me?

“I… that’s… I mean… I can’t just let you out. You might try to hurt Pauline! A-and even if you convinced me that you wouldn’t, there’s still the fact that you’re wanted for attempted murder! If you actually came back, you’d be scooped up and killed!”

Oh, stop it with the excuses and just admit that you want my body for yourself. I might hate you for it, but I think honesty is the least I deserve, seeing as how you’ve stolen my life for your own.

“Me!? You’re the one who got me stuck in here! Not to mention the fact that you took my body to begin with!”

That was unintentional, and you know it. I just wanted to escape my fate - it’s not my fault that the demon twisted things around like that.

“You summoned a demon! Everything that came from that is your fault! That’s how making obviously dumb and terrible decisions works!”

Amelia didn’t respond to that, and after about a minute of waiting I finally let out a soft sigh. “I don’t want to be your enemy. I care about you, and do want to form a compromise. But you’re right - I won’t give up this body, so long as it’s the only one I have. Nor will I go back to being a man. Perhaps… perhaps if we could make a second body, one of us could shift to it, in time - but it’s not even worth considering if we can’t find a way to get you off the executioner’s block. Something I’ll only be able to do if you’re willing to cooperate.”

Again, there was silence for a long moment. Then, just as I was about to lose all hope, she spoke.

I wasn’t left waiting alone all night.

“You… you weren’t?” I asked, worried. “Does that mean that there was someone else with you? Who? The demon?”

No, was her cross reply. I mean I fell asleep. Before you did, even. 

“You can sleep in there?” I asked, surprised.

There is a bed, she pointed out. You’ve woken up in it enough times to know.

“Yes, well, it’s not as if I really recall everything in detail,” I reminded her. “And just because there is a mattress doesn’t mean you’re actually capable of falling asleep on it!”

Well, apparently I am. Not that I have any particular need to do so, as far as I can tell. I never even tried until last night.

“Then why did you try, last night?” I asked her. “I would have thought you’d be eager for conversation, after everything that happened with Clara.”

Again, silence, but this time I held my tongue and waited, without moving, until Amelia broke.

I… thought I might be able to have a good dream, if I fell asleep. Something better than what the waking world can currently offer me.

Not a lie, as far as I could tell - and yet, knowing Amelia, I doubted it was the full truth, either. I considered letting it lie, all the same, only to freeze in place as a thought suddenly struck me.

“Last night, when you touched Clara on the thigh - was that a signal, of some sort? Or were you actually trying to comfort her?”

Again, no reply. Except this time it was matched with a faint sense of stubborn pride, as if she were purposefully letting me know that she had no intention of answering.

Not that I needed her to. The feeling itself was answer enough for someone who knew her character as well as me. If there had truly been a secret message that she didn’t want me to know about, she would have found a way to deflect me via a half truth or a carefully worded response, or some such. Her silence, in and of itself, ruled that possibility out. That silence, combined with the particular emotions she was sending me, painted a rather easy to decipher picture, though. At least for me.

“There wasn’t a hidden message, was there?” I asked. “You were actually trying to show concern.”

Again, no response. No feelings either, this time, but that only deepened my conviction that I was on the right track. Previously, there had at least been a chance that she was bluffing me, or some such - trying to guide me to the wrong conclusions via silence and emotions without risking any form of verbal response. Yet if that was the case, she would have done something to reinforce my assumption. The fact that she didn’t… Well, I suppose that could be a manipulation tactic, in and of itself, but that wasn’t really Amelia’s style. She preferred to play an active role in shaping the narrative, rather than relying on someone else’s ability to reach the conclusions she wished for. Partially because guiding people in such a way was difficult and prone to errors, but mostly because it required actual empathy and a true understanding of how others thought - not her specialty.

“It was clumsy, and strange, and probably confused Clara more than anything, but you were trying, weren’t you? Which made you all the more embarrassed after the fact. You didn’t go to bed to avoid me - you went to sleep to avoid the thoughts running through your own mind!”

Could you please stop trying to analyze me? came Amelia’s terse response. We’re not friends, and you don’t know me.

“No, I don’t,” I confessed, a soft smile playing across my lips now. “Not in the ways that count.” I knew her as a character. I knew her as a schemer. I knew how her mind worked, the major activities she’d been up to over the last few years, and the specific traumatic events and feelings that drove her - but, despite all that, I still couldn’t say that I truly knew her as a person. “But I’d like to.”

~~~Author's Note

I would tell you all about how this chapter got away from me, but at this point I think it's getting a bit repetative so you should probably just assume that's the case until told otherwise going forward. Honestly, I barely even tried to restrain it to begin with... It's just that I expected the conversation with Amelia to last only a few lines, and was planning to more or less skip through breakfast and get to classes by the end of the chapter. Instead... Well, we got this!

Not that I'm complaining, mind you. If anything, I'm rather fond of it~!