Chapter Text
‘A person at their lowest is someone who misses the sun’
Nerissa Ravencroft had never liked the sun.
For as long as she’s lived, she avoided walking in its rays at all costs if she could. Even on the coolest of days. Be it under the shade, an umbrella or a comically large hat – so long as there was a way, she’d take it. Despite being a denizen of hell where the fires burned ever hot and eternally, the sun remained as something she couldn’t stand.
It irritated her skin, made her clothes stick, made her feel uncomfortable. The reasoning was as simple as that. But in recent years, the Demon of Sound finds that her opinion has changed.
Then again, many things had changed.
If there was one thing The Cell was constructed for, it was to break the will of its captives. Those convicted with the heinous crime of disobeying the laws of the Gods. For them, there was no act of cruelty too small.
The Cell, wherever it was, didn’t allow any sunlight in. Its damp and dreary walls illuminated only by the torches that were hung on the cold stone. Dark winding corridors that had no end, the quiet hum of magical enchantments and the heavy silence occasionally broken by the footsteps of the patrolling guards – the lack of something so familiar served as the final nail in the coffin.
Nerissa Ravencroft was a prisoner of The Cell – and she misses the sun.
Sometimes, the demon wondered how the other prisoners in The Cell coped. Communication between prisoners was expectedly strictly forbidden but that didn’t mean Nerissa didn’t wonder from time to time.
It had taken her decades to come to terms that she had been imprisoned. Even more for her to accept her fate. What had spurred the thought this time around though was the prisoner that was brought in recently.
Nerissa had heard the commotion, the shouting of the guards startling her from her slumber just in time to see them escort the latest addition to The Cell to a section she only knew the name of – The Maximum Security Cell.
For as long as Nerissa had been there, the cell had never been occupied. It pulsed with an oppressive energy and was enclosed all around, the only way in and out being the large looming doors intricately carved with designs the demon could only make out. Even just looking at it from a distance evoked an overwhelming sense of dread.
Nerissa could only imagine what kind of being deserved that sort of treatment.
She hadn’t gotten the chance to catch a glimpse of the new prisoner but what struck Nerissa as particularly strange was that this prisoner had made no sound. No words, no noises of struggle, not even a single plead for mercy. Just an eerie and unsettling quiet, accompanied by footsteps heavy with resignment and the familiar rattle of chains.
Nerissa knew one of the other prisoners was a rock of some sort because of the sound of stone dragging against stone when they first arrived. She knew there were a pair of dogs – demon dogs here too from the incessant barking and cries when they were thrown into their respective cells.
This time, she had nothing more than a sentence and her imagination to go off on.
Not that it mattered much anyways. Even if Nerissa could put a face on the prisoner, there was nothing more she could do beyond that.
Nothing more besides cling to whatever sanity remained and hoped the others could do the same.
* * *
A proper sleeping schedule didn’t exist for those within the confines of The Cell.
Without a clear indicator of a day or night cycle, sleep simply became something Nerissa did whenever she felt exhausted. Assuming she could fall asleep in the first place. If she did manage to get some rest, what would usually follow when she wakes up would be pacing around her cell to keep her muscles in use.
She would flex her wings as much as the space would allow and count the cracks on the walls to take her mind off things. When she was done, she’d sit on the floor, lean against the wall next to the prison bars and get as close as possible to the torches outside for a sliver of warmth. Eventually she would get tired and the cycle would repeat anew.
Dull. Repetitive. Monotonous.
She’d grown numb to it over her time in The Cell but her mind had been extra restless as of late. In a constant whirlwind of never ending worry and doubt that never seemed to end.
The demon had tried to pace around twice as much as she normally would to tire herself out from even thinking but alas, all that seemed to achieve was leave her in a more exhausted state. Physically and mentally with every single waking moment getting progressively worse.
In the back of her mind, Nerissa wondered if the effects of insanity were finally starting to get to her. That her will had finally waned. That soon she’d be another successful victim of The Cell – of the Gods.
Unironically enough, before that train of thought could go any further, her eyes began to droop and her head felt heavy on her shoulders. Her thoughts started to overlap as her mind became increasingly more fuzzy.
Though she knew getting rest was futile, the demon managed to convince herself to sleep in the poor excuse of a bed her cell had which would at the very least be less harsh on her spine – but just as she places her hands on the ground to push herself up and stand, she feels something cold and wet coat her left palm.
Nerissa pulls away in an instant, thinking it was another leak in the cell but when she glances down at her hand, it is sheer horror instead of disgust that crosses her delicate features.
A black oozing liquid covered her hand.
Heart beating in her ears, Nerissa’s first instinct was to check her horns with her other hand even though she was well aware black wasn’t the color of the blood her kind bleed. The setting – the sensation was simply too familiar to ignore, triggering her fight or flight response into overdrive.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she found nothing amiss. When she checked the rest of her body for any sign of injury, she also found none.
With the worst of it over and after taking several deep breaths to calm down, Nerissa moved to inspect the part of the ground she touched, immediately spotting a dark puddle that definitely wasn’t there before. The sight of it alone was enough to cause her to wince, the shade so dark it looked like a fragment cut out of the abyss itself.
Upon closer inspection, Nerissa noted that the liquid behaved strangely, flowing not like how any normal liquid would. Moving not according to any rules of gravity but like it had a mind of its own. It was then that the black liquid on her hand slid clean off without any prompting and joined the rest on the floor.
Nerissa’s eyes widened and she watched as the puddle began to take form – a black slime-like creature with needles protruding out from its head, complete with white teary eyes and a jagged frown.
Despite being so small, probably just large enough to fit in the palm of her hand, Nerissa felt more than a little unnerved. The creature stared at her unblinkingly. It didn’t say anything nor did it do anything. It simply remained there and with each passing second, the silence encapsulating both of them became more and more deafening.
Nerissa hated it.
“What are you?” she blurts out, her voice hoarse from Gods know how long of disuse.
She gets no response from the creature, not even the slightest bit of movement whatsoever but the demon continues to give the effort a try. “How did you get here?”
Again she was met with nothing. “Not even an idea of who or what sent you…?”
That received some sort of reaction. Without a word, the creature proceeded to separate a small portion of itself, that portion then becoming a tattered piece of paper with legible writing on it.
A note.
Nerissa’s brows furrow, eyeing the slime creature before reluctantly reaching out to grab the note and read what was on it.
Alone in the night,
There is solace in the sky,
That everyone shares.
Quite the comforting concept isn’t it? I used to think the words were cliché but I guess life really does always have a way to make you believe in things you never expected to.
Anyways, if it wasn’t clear enough already, this is a long-winded way to say – I know we don’t know each other that well but since there isn’t much else to do, would you perhaps consider entertaining a poor loner’s meanderings?
I can assure you, I’ll do my best to be entertaining.
Yours truly.
p.s. Don’t worry about our exchange being found out. So long as the guards aren’t patrolling, Yorick can handle it.
Nerissa presses her lips into a thin line. Confusion couldn’t even begin to describe her feelings at that moment. Incredulity comes close but it wasn’t enough. Numerous questions were bouncing back and forth in her mind and all she could turn to for answers was the slime creature, now known as Yorick, who didn’t even appear to be able to talk.
“What do you even say to that,” Nerissa mutters under her breath as she skims over the note again. As soon as the words slid past her lips, only then did the realization hit her.
The realization that this was her first interaction with another soul in literal centuries since her imprisonment. Not another guard that barely looked in her direction. Not a hallucination. Not even her own voice echoing words of doubt back at her but a whole other being.
Someone she could talk to. Someone who had their own ideas and thoughts. Someone she could learn and understand. Someone with their own tone and voice.
It was all so exhilarating to Nerissa – as much as it was utterly terrifying.
In an instant, Nerissa feels anxiety well up in her chest to the point of suffocating. A strong pressure pressing down on her lungs and inhibiting her ability to breathe. Nevertheless, the demon perseveres. Looking towards Yorick and abandoning all common sense, Nerissa asks, “Do you know where I’m supposed to write?”
Yorick of course gives no verbal response but it does stare at the back of the paper long and hard which eventually gets the message across. Nerissa turns the note around as instructed but another problem quickly arises – she had nothing to write with.
Nerissa chews on her lower lip as she takes a brief glance around her cell. Unfortunately, the cells were kept bare, really only consisting of a bed with a mattress that may as well be paper thin. That of course wasn’t unintentional. If a prisoner went mad out of boredom, it was merely a gimmick of The Cell. After all, there wasn’t any act of cruelty too small for the Gods.
It was when Nerissa’s eyes landed on her wings that were folded neatly behind her that an idea came to mind. Carefully the demon grazes her fingers over her feathers to smooth them out before plucking one. She winces but the pain is fleeting, nothing more than an ant bite.
“This should work,” Nerissa hums in satisfaction, bringing the sheet of paper close and leaning in towards Yorick whilst holding up her makeshift pen. “Would you mind?”
A beat.
“I’m just going to assume you said no,” Nerissa concludes before gently dipping the quill into Yorick and finally getting down to write what she wants to say.
I wouldn’t mind, so long as you don’t mind the chirpings of a little bird trapped in a cage.
But I must ask, dear author of this strange message, before I introduce myself, will I get the chance to know your name too?
“There.”
As if sensing she was done, the note melts away and slips between Nerissa’s fingers onto the floor below where Yorick was waiting. Without so much as a glance, Yorick reunites with its separated portions and morphs back into a puddle before leaving through the gaps between the prison bars, not unlike how it first arrived.
“For a thing that doesn’t talk, it sure has a lot of attitude,” Nerissa scoffs in mild amusement. Though no actual conversation took place, she was still grateful for whatever interaction there was. Now that she was back to being alone in her cell with nothing to preoccupy her however, fatigue caught up to her quickly.
Nerissa leans against the wall with a huff and yet instead of attempting to go to sleep like she originally intended, she waits patiently by the prison bars – keeping her eyes pried open no matter how much they begged to be closed and how heavy her limbs felt, using the sheer anticipation of receiving a reply to stay wide awake.
When the silence starts to feel like it was lasting too long, that’s when Nerissa begins to worry and various unwelcome scenarios start to plague her mind.
The anonymous writer deciding Nerissa was not worth their time, the note not getting sent like intended, Yorick somehow getting lost along the way or worst of all, a guard stumbling upon a prisoner trying to contact someone outside their cell.
An offense where death would be the most merciful punishment.
A shiver runs down Nerissa’s spine as she’s overcome with fear, a very specific memory coming to mind. The initial pain. The searing one that came after it. The chains. The disbelief. The silence. Every single unwilling detail fresh as if it had just happened yesterday.
Burying her head in her hands, the demon just barely resists the urge to cry. Her remaining horn pulses with a phantom pain and the demon feels as though she cannot get air into her lungs fast enough.
Fuck fuck fuck–! WHY did I do that? Why did I think that was a good idea?!
Running a hand through her hair and cursing herself internally over and over again, it takes all of Nerissa’s restraint to resist screaming at the top of her lungs. There was no doubt in her mind the guards wouldn’t hesitate to go through with their threat of breaking her other horn if she so much as talked a decibel too loud.
What does it matter anyway? They’re going break my other horn if they find that note…
Nerissa’s arms fall to her sides limply and a lifeless laugh escapes her. You fucking idiot.
In that moment, Nerissa feels something brush against her fingertips. She doesn’t even think it was real until she feels it again. This time, whatever it was curling around her pinky. Hesitant and uncertain but undoubtedly there.
When Nerissa finds the strength and will to move again, she’s surprised to see Yorick by her hand staring up at her – the same sheet of paper from earlier next to it. Yorick had a little strand of itself wrapped around her pinky but the demon made no mention of it. Her heart clenched when Yorick let go.
“...it’s you…” Nerissa whispers, a noticeable waver in her voice. “Have you been here the whole time?” she asks, not with the intention to receive an answer but merely to quiet the turmoil in her head.
As she reaches for the note to read it once more, a part of her starts to consider the very real possibility that this was some deliberate ploy by the Gods to toy with her. To laugh at her desperation as she helplessly pines for what they took from her.
It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve done it and if she falls for it again, she doubts it’ll be the last.
The thought very nearly convinces her to throw the piece of paper away, to shoo Yorick out of her cell and avoid any more disappointment and heartbreak when she catches a glimpse of the words written on the note.
Shiori. Shiori Novella. And I don’t mind birds chirping. At least it’s something familiar here so don’t be worried about that.
A birdsong at dawn,
Brings ease and security,
Without, feels like loss.
Nerissa’s mouth falls open as she rereads the note over and over again. Even as she traces her fingers over the ink on the page, Nerissa has a hard time processing it was real. That it was true someone had somehow figured out a way to communicate under the nose of the Gods and their guards.
“Shiori Novella…” Nerissa whispers, tasting the name on her lips for the very first time. The first name she’s said in a very long time. A strange warmth spreads throughout her entire being, replacing the ice cold terror that was there before and barely a second later, Nerissa hastily writes down her reply for Yorick to send.
Nerissa Ravencroft. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
When the next note arrives, unbeknownst to the demon, the corners of her lips curl up into a wide smile.
Well Nerissa Ravencroft, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. I look forward to all the stories we’ll share together.
* * *
* * *
You haven’t heard of it?!
Hey, there are some things I just don’t know about, okay? What’s so bad about that?
Nothing, but not knowing a classic like that at all is criminal Shiori. Everyone has to have heard about it at least once in their life.
I’d say ‘lock me up then’ but I’m already here so I guess problem’s already been solved. Do you have any other suggestions?
Nerissa rolls her eyes with a smile, giving the pen in her hand a twirl before putting it back to paper.
No need. I’ll tell you all about it later. We’re not going to talk about anything else until I finish explaining the entire plot to you.
Whatever you want Nerissa.
“Sorry Yorick, guess you’re going to be busy for a while after this,” Nerissa says as she hands the sheet of paper to the little slime creature. “At least you can take a break now, right? Do you want to hop on my bed this time while waiting?”
While Nerissa had gotten used to Shiori's trusty companion not saying a word no matter the situation, she still kept doing it for the pure fun of it. She'd grown to be pretty fond of Yorick and she was entirely convinced Yorick could in fact communicate. It just had its own unique little ways of doing so.
Like its chosen hiding spot for instance – a hiding spot which notably did end up being Nerissa’s bed, right between the mattress and the frame. Nerissa watches all the while, a smug look on her face.
“You’re welcome.”
With Yorick now safely hidden away, the demon settles down in the most comfortable corner of her cell to wait for the scheduled patrol. Beginning always at the same time, with the same amount of guards and the same amount of checks. Routine and in order just like how the Gods liked it.
Just on time, Nerissa sees them pass by her cell from the corner of her eye. The sound of their boots against the stone floor accentuated by the heavy weight of their armor and the deadly weapons they wield echoing throughout the halls, serving as a subtle warning.
Even as their faces, obscured by their ornamented helmets, bore holes into Nerissa, the demon dares not face them. They worked as the literal eyes of the Gods. The less Nerissa had to see them, the better.
As quickly as they arrive, the guards disappear around the corner and Nerissa takes a deep breath before exhaling. Unfortunately, it would be a few more rounds until the guards were done which meant no notes could be exchanged. In the meantime, Nerissa let her mind wander like it always would.
She thought of what to tell Shiori about later. If she should emphasize the general plot of the story or focus more on its characters. She wondered if Shiori would relate more to the protagonist or prefer to learn more about the childhood best friend that eventually would become the love interest.
Somewhere along the line, Nerissa’s mind drifts to Biboo and Fuwamoco – the other prisoners in The Cell and pondered if they would like to know about the story she adored so much too. Knowing them, she was fairly confident they hadn’t heard about it either.
Might as well tell them all at once Nerissa reasoned with herself, a satisfied grin on her lips.
Though the four of them had only gotten acquainted with each other recently, courtesy of none other than Shiori and Yorick, the bond was undeniably there even from the very beginning. Forged from their circumstance as prisoners of this shared personal hell.
After learning each other’s names, everything else seemed to come easily as if ordained by fate itself. A kindness for once instead of cruelty.
There was one thing however that Nerissa had a problem with.
She knew Biboo, the Gem of Emotions who was locked away for the crime of unintentionally corrupting mortals just like her. She knew the twin demon dogs, Fuwamoco, who were separated for a trivial matter that definitely didn’t warrant such a harsh punishment.
Yet she knew so little of Shiori. The first person she exchanged letters with.
Nerissa knew that Shiori loved stories. She knew the other had adorably messy handwriting like a young toddler learning to hold a pen for the first time. She knew her fellow prisoner had quite the writing prowess but preferred a more casual vibe once she was comfortable. A shame since she adored Shiori’s early little haikus but her dry humor was just as endearing.
All of that and Nerissa still felt like she was missing something.
Shiori had a knack for being as vague as possible about things and she excelled at this best with details regarding herself. Presenting herself like a distant figure Nerissa could only make the silhouette of, concealed by a dense fog that never seemed to abate. Or an unfinished puzzle of a beautiful view the demon couldn’t fully see.
If Nerissa was allowed to be a little selfish, the demon wanted a glimpse into the person who had extended a hand to her. The person who had unknowingly pulled her from the darkest recesses of her own mind and kept her steady when everything had felt so close to falling apart.
A frown forms on Nerissa’s lips and with a sigh, she relaxes against the wall behind her.
She’ll come to you eventually a voice sounding like her own whispers. Don’t push her. Don’t lose hope now.
“Don’t lose hope now…”
Somewhere deep in her heart, Nerissa still misses the sun but she couldn’t deny it – everything did seem a little brighter. Now with every waking moment, she no longer dreaded the next but looked forward to it. Looked forward to every little note she’d get and every new story she’d read and get to share.
And right now, she couldn’t wait to tell Shiori all about one of the greatest stories ever created.
* * *