Understanding

Feet brushing the grass, I made my way through the forest. My eyes traveled the tall trunk to find the treehouse’s living room lights still aglow, burning warm against the frigid night.

I pulled my shawl tighter around me.

What were they still doing up?

I looked above to find the moon spotlighting me. It had to be past midnight.

Before climbing up the tilted planks of wood that Leviathan and Atlas had nailed into the bark, I rounded the tree, tracing the runes I’d etched into it. Knowing they were still there brought me peace. At least as much as I deserved.

Eventually, I made my way up the make-shift ladder and pulled open the heavy curtain that acted as a door. Sitting in the living room before the fire was Leviathan. He stood up seeing me come in and rounded the tattered brown sofa to stand in front of me.

“Where have you been?” He whispered. His cheek was bruised, a deep purple against his dark skin. Dried blood stained the corner of his lip and ear.

“What happened?” I asked, “Another rebel attack? Is Atlas ok?” I reached up to try and touch the wound, but he caught my wrist.

Levi nodded, “He’s fine now. I handled it.”

“Clearly,” I said, glancing again at the dark welt.

“At least he’s alive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“His veins were pitch black when he came home. Chaos had nearly consumed him. I carried him to the grove.”

My heart stumbled.

“You push him too far.”

“I’m protecting him,” I snapped, pulling my wrist back.

“You’re killing him” he corrected, “...You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” I said, “Atlas needs to be ready. If he’s not- and he dies- his blood is on my hands.” I pressed my palms over one another atop my chest, over my heart.

Leviathan doesn’t know, I reminded myself, but he’ll see. One day, he’ll understand.

At least that’s what I told myself, but when he looked at me like he was now, it was hard to believe it. I accepted the fact that I was a monster a long time ago. I accepted it because it’s what I had to become.

It still hurt to think he believed it too.

“We can run,” he tried, “We can find somewhere else to go-”

I turned away, exhausted, drawing the shawl off my shoulders and hanging it on the hook at the door.

“Listen to me!” Though his voice stayed a whisper, it was growing louder.

“I have,” I said, whipping around to face him, “Over and over again! We can’t leave, Leviathan.”

“Yes we can,” he pressed,

“Stop.”

“You know it's possible.”

“Stop,” I seethed. The sharpness of my words slashed pain across his face. I clamped a hand over his mouth. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

I glanced around the room. Outside the window I spotted six crows sitting in a scattered line on the branches of a distant tree. With their feathers made of pitch and eyes like inky pearls, they watched us. The Queen's murder.

He pulled my hand down, “I’m not afraid of her.”

“You should be.”

“You shouldn't let Pandora control you.”

“You don’t understand,” I said and brushed past him.

“Then help me too,” He turned to follow me.

“You can’t.”

“Because you won’t let me,” Leviathan said, “Why don’t you trust me?”

He didn’t understand. The problem was that I trusted him too much.

If he knew the truth, would he stay?

Monster.

I licked my wounds with lies. If I really wanted to protect Leviathan and Atlas, I’d give them a reason to leave me. I could take my pick- see which one made them fear me the most. Instead, I kept them caged in my chest.

“Pandora doesn’t control me,” I told him.

“Yes she does,” Leviathan said, “She’s manipulating you.”

If only that were true.

I moved into the kitchen, pulling out a small cast iron cauldron.

“Where would we go?” I asked, startling him.

“There are places that will hide creatures like us,” he insisted, though I knew his sources could only be legends and rumors.

I glanced at the black veins that cracked along the sides of his face, the rest hidden beneath his clothes. Placed on the rim of the cauldron, I studied my hands, seeing chaos’s dominion over me, prominent upon my skin. It traveled up my arms, my neck; down my back and my legs.

“Places that will hide Atlas?” I asked, staring at him beside me.

Leviathan hesitated.

“You know what others will do to him if they find out who he is,” I reminded.

“Then we don’t tell them. Atlas is supposed to be dead anyway. No one is looking for him. No one knows we have him.”

Leviathan raised himself onto the kitchen island and looked down to meet my eyes. I tried to not let it bother me. I gripped the bowl tighter to keep myself from pulling him off. It felt strange needing to gaze up at him.

“Pandora knows, Chaos knows. They’ll come after us.”

“So we go on the run again.”

“No.”

“Dahlia, Why do you want to stay here?”

“Why do you want to leave?” I countered, “We’re safe here. Why do you want to ruin that?”

He leaned in, his whisper even softer now, “Pandora’s using him- I know you know. She doesn’t care about him, she doesn’t care about you, she doesn’t care about anything except getting her revenge. We’re all just pawns in her game of war.”

“That’s not true!” I shouted. My voice echoed through the treehouse.

That’s not true, that’s not true, that’s not true.

Monster

The both of us stared at Atlas’s bedroom door, waiting to see if it would crack. Almost immediately, light spilled out from beneath as it was slowly pushed open.

Atlas peeked out from behind the wood. Two white horns arced above his head, together creating a crescent moon shape. His eyes, rings of gold drowning in ebony, found us. His ghostly skin was battered by bruises.

“Is everything ok,” he asked and shuffled in his pajamas across the floor. His “pajamas” were made up of a holey t-shirt and linen pants that had been found washed up on the island’s shore.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” I breathed towards Leviathan.

Atlas took a seat in a stool across from us at the kitchen island.

“Everything’s fine,” Leviathan said, reaching out to ruffle his curly black hair.

Atlas airingly waved his hands away and eyed him suspiciously.

“I’ll send a few guards to investigate the grove,” I told him, “Maybe one of the rebels left something behind.”

A vibrant emotion flashed across Leviathan’s face, but it was gone too quickly for me to tell what it was.

Had he seen something? Was he hiding something from me?

No, he wouldn’t do that.

Atlas nodded and sank into his seat, biting his lip, chewing on something that swirled in his mind.

“What’s bothering you?” Leviathan asked.

“...Why do they want to kill me? Pandora said I was their savior.”

“You are,” I confirmed before Leviathan could say anything. He threw a look my way which I matched before continuing, “But some disagree with Pandora and don’t want to see creatures like us free.”

Leviathan rolled his eyes. We both knew that wasn’t why he persisted to speak against the Queen, but Atlas couldn't know the truth.

“But why?” Atlas asked.

“Because they think Chaos is evil,” I responded, “And so anyone tied to Chaos is considered evil as well. Most don’t understand that the things born from Chaos’s magic aren’t just about destruction, it’s… wild. Chaos is partly responsible for why our world acts and appears the way it does. Many just simply fear what they can’t control.”

Atlas nodded, seemingly satisfied, then leaned across the counter to stare into the pot, “What are you making?”

The cauldron was still empty.

“Can you grab the frog saliva?” I asked Leviathan, “It’s in the cabinet behind me.” His eyes narrowed, telling me that our conversation wasn’t over. A few seconds passed before he complied.

Atlas wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue at the sound of my request

I fished out a spoon from the drawer and pointed it at him.

“You’ll be thanking me when I’m done,” I said.

He watched as I shaved off a few spirals from a unicorn horn and he got up from his seat.

“I’m going back to bed,” he declared and headed towards his room.

“I’ll be teaching you how to make this one day,” I called after him.

“Can’t wait,” Atlas said, pumping a pathetic fist into the air and shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he heard the door slam, Leviathan turned on me.

“Is lying a part of your plan to protect Atlas?” He placed the emerald green bottle into my hand and I unscrewed the cork, letting a clear trail of spit drop into the bowl.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

“He deserves to know the truth.”

“He can’t.”

“Because Pandora said so?”

“Because if Atlas knew the truth, he wouldn’t go through with it.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“I said I’m done talking about this.”

“Fine,” Leviathan said, “Then at least tell me where were you tonight?” He asked.

“I had a meeting with Pandora.” I said flatly,

He looked like he was about to explode, but managed to stop himself.

“What! Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She wanted to know about Atlas’s progress,” I said while continuing to add ingredients: crushed butterfly wings, an assortment of animal fur, and tea leaves. A few I had to grab from the back of the fridge- the ones I didn’t want Atlas or Leviathan touching in case they poisoned themselves.

“That still doesn’t answer why you didn’t tell me.”

“Pandora sent a crow after my lesson with Atlas, I didn’t have time.” I glanced out the window to find the murder still watching us from the tree.

I focused my attention on stirring the now mud colored mixture until the insect parts and hair dissolved. It swirled in clumps and splashed into the pot when I tilted my spoon to drop it back in.

“What did you tell her?” Leviathan looked into the cauldron and mirrored Atlas’s reaction before leaning away from the concoction.

“Nothing. He’s made no progress.”

Leviathan exhaled.

“He keeps hesitating- getting in his head,” I explained. Thinking about it raised annoyance as I cast a glance towards him.

Could he be putting ideas into Atlas head?

Leviathan nodded, “It makes sense. He’s supposed to be Chaos’s savior. That’s a lot of pressure for a fifteen year old.”

I stayed silent, finishing up the last step.

I knew we argued- even more since coming to the island- but Leviathan wouldn’t go behind my back, would he?

I retrieved an empty vial out of another cabinet and poured the brown liquid into it. Then, I handed it out to Leviathan.

“What is this?”

“Bottoms up,” I told him.

“You can’t be serious,” he glanced at me only to find my face completely void of any emotion. He took the thin glass container.

“Cheers,” he said, raising the bottle before throwing it back.

Leviathan instantly started choking. His eyes bulged and became bloodshot. He placed a hand on the wall of the treehouse and doubled over. I panicked and began rushing over to try and knock the mixture out of him. He repeatedly beat on his chest and eventually the coughing fit stopped.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He joked, his voice slightly raspy.

“Not funny,” I replied and started cleaning the kitchen, gently placing the cauldron back into the fridge for Atlas to drink from tomorrow morning. Leviathan silently began to help me. I peaked over my shoulder to see his bruises beginning to fade.

He was cleaning the dishes when he paused, staring at his reflection.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly.

“You still need to clean the dried blood.”

“Thank you,” he repeated to which I nodded.

“Of course,” I told him and turned away, feeling heat bleed beneath my cheeks.

Leviathan was everything to me. Did he know I did everything for him?

One day, he will. One day, he’ll understand.