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When Virgil woke up, it was pitch black. And yet, while reaching his hand, he didn't expect to see it so clearly instead of drowning in the overwhelming darkness.
He furrowed his eyebrows, slowly getting on his feet. The air was still, and yet fresh… and also chilly. He was kinda getting goosebumps, but aside from cold, also from being greatly disturbed.
He looked up, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he would see an opening, an escape, but instead, right before his eyes, a distant white dot lit up. And then he noticed another. And another, and soon, they were everywhere, a whole starry sky all around him and beneath his feet too. He wasn't sure what he was standing on before, and this time, he saw that it was nothing. He really couldn't tell. He might as well just have been free falling this entire time without feeling it, though the lights remaining still reassured him that he wasn't.
Then, he saw flares. Tiny translucent lines of blue and purple, soon growing, expanding into beautiful waves of teal and green all around him. “Northern lights,” Virgil thought. He had never seen it, only told by his parents, for he hadn’t even been born at the time those had last been visible above France. Turned out, their words hadn't been capable of conveying even the tiniest fraction of the true beauty of the aurora, and he stood still, mesmerised.
Another flash, much closer, caught his attention from the corner of his eye. And when he looked over the shoulder, he saw a mirror.
Well, almost. It was his reflection, sure, but he couldn't tell where it had come from. It seemed strangely different, too – he even looked down at his hands, making sure they didn't appear… like that. And sure enough, no scales on his wrists, no strange tattoos of tentacles wrapping around his arms – none of what it had. He looked up at it, and it returned the confused glance.
He waved his hand, and it repeated the motion. Took a step forward, and then back, and so did it. But when he slowly turned his head… it remained still. And then smirked when he recoiled, clutching his chest.
“Language,” it scolded as Virgil cursed, backing up in sheer horror. He grimaced, a mix of fear and disdain.
He seemed to trip over his own foot, falling on the back. He didn't feel the impact, oddly, but in a moment caught himself crawling away, eyes fixed on this… this thing as it approached him.
“Alright, see, I know what it looks like,” it made a wide gesture, pointing at everything around before nudging itself in the chest with its short claws. “But that's a bit of an overreaction, don't we think?”
“What are you,” he hissed, feeling a pang of anger poking through the unease. It didn't quite sound like a question.
“You mean me? Little ol’ me?” It smiled widely, clearly just fooling around. Then, it dropped a curtsy. “Allow me to introduce ourselves, then. Virgil Shroud, at your service.”
It looked like him, walked like him, and now it was trying to take his entire identity too?
“That name doesn't belong to you.”
“Well, you'll have to deal with it, because that's my name as much as it is yours,” its eyebrows shot upwards in a cast clearly meant to humble him. “You should stop listening to Vesper with their stories about the fae, I think those are bad for your mental health. I’m not one of those, don't worry.”
When it offered a hand to help him get up, Virgil pushed it away. He was perfectly capable of raising himself back up on his own.
He dusted off, as the other him watched with arms crossed.
“Done being dramatic?” It scoffed.
“You didn't answer my question, what are you?”
It rolled its eyes, clicking its tongue. That made him take another step back… maybe, just maybe annoying a creature he didn't know anything about wasn't the best idea.
“I thought I told you already. I’m you, or at least mostly you,” it held its hands together, index fingers pointing at him. “But not from your time and place.”
“From where, then?” he tossed his arms, now feeling frustration overtake him. “Some… I don't know, from the future? From some messed up alternate universe? Both?!”
“Wouldn't you like to know, circus boy.”
Virgil had no other option but to swallow the words that he was about to spit out. He simply sighed in exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose. And as he opened his eyes again, it was in his face, making him yelp, heart skipping a beat in a scare.
“Now, would you look at that,” his entire body went stiff as it held his face, thumbs sliding over the cheekbones. “There's still this lovely warm hue on the skin. I thought I’d see you already affected, but I suppose I miscalculated a little.”
It let go, looking him up and down.
“For how long have you been in the troupe at this point, exactly?”
“I– I don't know, a couple of months?” he was barely able to squeeze out a response.
Suddenly, it grabbed him by the sides, fingers pressing somewhere under his ribcage. That tickled, but also kinda hurt, and he squeaked in discomfort.
“Sorry, sorry,” it stepped away, holding its hands up in a gesture of peace. “I was just making sure you're actually…”
“Affected by what?” he finally asked, cutting it off. And by its sudden hesitation, he thought that maybe some things are better left unspoken.
They stood there awkwardly, and as he reached to rub the back of his head to ease the tension, it did the same.
“So you're… You said you're ‘mostly’ me,” Virgil finally began.
“Yeah, about that,” it rocked in place, notably indecisive on whether this needs a response. “You know what? Forget it, that's really not important. It's still all just a dream anyway, right?”
Somehow, it knew the question he had in mind for all this time. And gave him an answer, just like that, plain and simple.
He hummed, sitting down again, staring off into the distance.
“Is it to your liking?” the other Virgil asked out of the blue, setting itself down by his side, legs crossed. “I know we enjoy the night sky.”
“It's usually brighter,” he noticed out loud. “The Milky Way is usually visible. The aurora is nice, though. I always wanted…”
“...to see it at least once, yes,” it finished for him, not exactly interrupting, but rather gently taking after his thought. “I know. Where I’m from, you can barely ever see at least a couple of stars. Well, not from where I reside, to be honest, but… most of the world. The smog and bright street lights drown it all out.”
“Sounds dystopian.”
It only gave him a pained smile.
Then, the sky surrounding them went dim for a moment, when the northern lights dissipated, but in just a blink, exploded with colourful nebulae, shining comets, and thousands of specks of planets and stars. Perhaps, some of the white dots were not stars, but galaxies so far away that even with the biggest of lenses, he wouldn't make them out.
His eyes widened in amazement.
“It's not the way it looks from Earth, but I thought you would appreciate it anyway.”
“I do,” Virgil whispered, pressing knees to the chest.
It felt like they sat there for an eternity, and honestly, he would gladly stay for another. At some point, their fingertips touched, and while he pulled his hand away for just a second, looking into its deep dark eyes with little green flares of other worlds behind the sclera convinced him to put it back. He laid it on top of its hand, and their fingers intertwined.
“And still… Why are you like this?” he turned to face them once more. “You know… different.”
“Well, it's a long story, and I’m not sure I’m supposed to tell you,” it responded. “You just… You know, someday, you'll have to choose between staying in a world familiar to you, and saving a dear friend.”
“I don't have any friends.”
“You will. You'll just… know that it's the person when you see.”
As the other Virgil looked away, he watched its markings shift on its skin, once dark blue lines he’d mistaken for tattoos emitting this strange pale green light. It reminded him of something. Something he had never told his…
“I can hear what's on your mind, you know,” it unexpectedly said without even turning. “Was kinda hoping you'd be more considerate and wait for someone else to take it. But it doesn't count if it's just in your head, I suppose.”
Embarrassed, he immediately recoiled. Indeed, what was he even thinking?! He shouldn't– wasn't supposed to!
“It's just a kiss, and you're all panicking like you're going to ask me to– hey, are you listening?”
He was, but barely. And then, he could almost feel it click in its head.
They both felt silent for a good minute, before finally, Virgil found the courage to give it a glance.
“Hey. I’m not planning on shaming you for that, just so you know,” it reached out for his cheek, cool scaly skin against his face that felt like it was on fire soothing him just a little. “Come here. I can teach you a thing or two.”
It pulled him closer, and right before their lips touched, he noticed that it wasn't breathing at all.
It was surprisingly gentle and patient, slowly guiding him, being considerate of his inexperience. Its other hand slid to the back of his head, holding him with care he'd never expected from someone like himself.
He flinched when his toungue finally touched its, resisting the urge to break the kiss. Reading him like an open book, it pulled away, touching foreheads with him, looking into his eyes.
“There's nothing to be afraid of, I promise. But if you want, we can stop here,” it offered in a soft voice.
“You know damn well I don't,” he tittered, before reaching out again.
Its tongue wrapped around his, and though the sensation was new in quite a scary way, he didn't exactly object. On the contrary, the thrill of it was starting to get to him, and he pushed for more.
Soon enough, they were lying on top of one another, grabbing at eachother’s bodies, and yet, even in a moment of genuine passion, it was thoughtful enough to keep its claws to itself.
When Virgil finally raised his head, he was out of breath. It was looking at him with a smile.
“Please,” he moaned. “I need you.”
Then, came the quiet. He could only hear himself breathing, and faintly - his own heartbeat.
The spark of momentary lust that he could feel burning in his chest faded away, a slight chill coming in its stead.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No, of course not. It's just… I don't think I can give you that,” its expression soured a little. “I would feel terrible if I did. Besides,” now, it seemed flustered, turning away with a laugh, “you’re asking yourself for this. That's a bit absurd, don't you think?”
He wanted to say “I really don't,” but decided not to. Instead, he climbed off of it, now remorseful for what he'd done. What he had allowed to happen.
“It's okay. You know, I also never thought I’d find myself this attractive,” it sat up and put an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t look away now… How about we just watch the sky for a little while, until you finally wake up?”
It rested its hands on his shoulders, pulling closer.
“Come on. I promise I’m not mad at you. There's nothing for us to feel bad about,” he barely managed to contain a sniffle, and yet the other Virgil seemed to catch that. “No, really, I get it. I get it like no one else. I just… I really can't. Please, it's alright.”
He shook a little, finally making it let go, and lay back down. At first he wasn't even facing it, taking just a few more seconds to regain composure, before finally turning on the back.
“You know, stargazing does sound nice right now.”
Its expression lightened up in an instant, and it plopped down beside him, shoulders touching. Its hand found his, and they held one another gently, staring off into the deep space above.
He wondered when humanity would be able to see all of this, because he couldn't imagine he'd be able to spot any of it through his old telescope back at his parents’ house, let alone enjoy it up close.
“They're not actually this colourful, you know,” it started quietly. “They look pale to the human eye, mostly white and gray with a tint. Or sometimes a uniform colour that drowns out the rest.”
“So it's not as pretty.”
“Well, I think they’re still beautiful. What you see right now is how future telescopes will show them”, it chortled. “Long exposure and later filtering of the image show colours based on what the cloud consists of, and its electromagnetic radiation.”
It seemed to sense Virgil’s slight confusion, and pointed at a random nebula.
“See this one, shaped like an eye? The blue circle in the middle is highly ionised oxygen. Usually the color comes from the reflection of the other stars’ light, but here it's a natural glow. The whole cloud comes from the central star right in the middle.”
He propped himself on the arms, focusing on its face. At that moment, it seemed genuinely happy, completely engrossed in its monologue, and even its eyes seemed to glow a little brighter.
“It's… Off the top of my head, I think it's a type A by the old classification. You know, small, white, extremely hot – a white dwarf,” it paused, as if taking a breather. “The yellow glow a little further is sulfur. For this projection, it was actually filtered to be green, but made yellow because of mixing with hydrogen. The entire outer ring is made of it, and…”
It finally noticed him observing it.
“...apologies, I got carried away.”
“It's fine, really. I’m just… You seem to know a lot about space.”
“I know a lot in general, you know,” the other Virgil cracked a smile, before, all of a sudden, looking disenchanted. “I’m afraid it's all the time we have.”
“Will I see you again?” he drawled, barely restraining an undertone that was pushing the line between hope and desperation.
“Well, maybe in a few years, in an actual mirror.”
Its form went up in bright teal flames, and before it disappeared completely, it gave him one last bright look.
Then, everything went pitch black again.
***
At first, he didn't even want to open his eyes.
Maybe if he just stayed still for long enough, he could go back, just for another moment, just–
“I know you are awake, child.”
The discordant choir heard right overhead made him shudder, and he finally peeked.
The familiar pallid mask stayed just as expressionless as always, yet, in one of its hollow eyesockets, there was a furious green shimmer that gave him chills.
“I’m sorry,” he sat up, as the Ringmaster stepped aside, straightening its back. “I was just… having this dream…”
It tilted its head, and he could tell it was… tense? Irritated? Perhaps even mad at him. Just… generally really upset with something.
“...did I do something wrong?”
“Not exactly.”
Virgil looked down, gripping the edge of the blanket a bit tighter.
“I will give you half an hour to dress up and ready yourself,” some of its voices seemed to waver. “Then, meet me in my room. We have much to discuss.”