Limerence
(noun) ā a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.
āĖāæĖĀ° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.
āĖāæĖĀ° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce will be "she/her/hers".
āĖāæĖĀ° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, emotional and mind control, manipulation, love spell, obsession, unrequited love, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, m.urder, s.uicide attempt.
āĖāæĖĀ° Leonard is my OC.
āĖāæĖĀ° Read more chapters here. (coming soon)
āĖāæĖĀ° Masterlist
āĖāæĖĀ° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x
Chapter: The Muse
ā in which he brings the world his most significant work of art.
These days, the artist community was vibrant, with some even competing for acceptance to the exhibition at Mo Art Studio.
So did Leonard. He had to rush around and ask for help everywhere in order to be given a chance. Money was not an issue, but the host of this exhibition was certainly not an ordinary person. He wasn't offering tickets to the highest bidder, but rather to those who possessed an artistic vision and passed his evaluation.
āThe ticket will be sent to you within the next three days. Please keep in touch.ā The other end of the line cut the discussion off, but Leonard's mind remained lightheaded, unable to believe the gift he had just received.
āWaitā¦ā He spoke before the other person hung up. āExcuse meā¦ May I do an interview with that artist in the exhibition?ā
There was no response. Leonard believed they were reviewing his proposal. He held his breath and wait for a while, then the manager named Thomas spoke:
āWe do not accept interviews. But a few individual queries could suffice. Of course, if you are able to leave a good impression.ā
"I got it. Thank you."
Putting the phone aside, Leonard leaned back in his office chair. How to impress Linkon's most talented painter, or should he say - the world's best artist? Despite his young age, there was no one in this city who had never heard of his work.
The artist's name was Rafayel. He became well-known for his landscape paintings, which brought admirers to a dreamlike state when they stood in front of them. He seldom appeared in public, despite having organized hundreds of major and minor exhibitions. Who he truly was remained a question, and the most mysterious part was probably his disappearance a year ago.
For a whole year there were no new paintings or art activities. No one saw him in Linkon during that time. His manager and studio kept it silent, as if everything had evaporated overnight. Then, last weekend, he unexpectedly reappeared and made an important announcement, which was an exhibition called The Muse.
In contrast to his previous events, guests had no idea what they were about to witness. According to the majority of internet comments, Rafayel returned with a work of a lifetime, a painting that exceeded anything he had ever created. That was the final result of a year-long hunt for inspiration. Of course, there were those who believed he was steadily degrading since he hadn't been able to draw anything decent in a long time and had simply planned this event to earn some money.
For Leonard, either truth was fair. He must uncover all of the details and secrets surrounding Rafayel's reappearance. Since that was what he did for a living.
Leonard was a journalist who specialized in arts. Despite his greatest efforts over several years, he still had little hope of succeeding. He had been without a single decent piece for a long time. Then the opportunity to visit the Mo Art studio presented itself before his eyes. He was not going to miss the chance to see a place that had never been accessible to the public before.
The day of the exhibition approached. Leonard had purposefully showed up early, but as he reached the gate, he noticed that about fifty formally dressed guests were already present. They were enjoying wine and food as they walked in groups into the main hall, where the primary event was held. Leonard also entered with nervousness. All of the windows and doors were wide open, allowing the sea air to convey a salty fragrance into the hallway. Rafayel's famous works are framed, and hung or placed in the center of a floral garden that the host tenderly arranged himself, giving guests the impression that they had just lost themselves in the Garden of Eden.
However, that was not the primary attention of the event. Something massive and cylindrical appeared in the center of the hall. It spanned from the ground to an exceedingly high glass ceiling. It had a diameter of up to ten meters, and was covered in a crimson velvet fabric, protecting it from inquisitive eyes of guests. Even the personnel had not an idea of what was inside.
"Rafayel did all of this himself." Thomas, the manager, spoke up. "I can't answer your questions because I'm not sure what's there. But whatever it is, it will undoubtedly live up to the name of his Muse."
The flock of intrigued guests around Thomas nodded, then split out to stroll around and admire the pillar, as if its very presence was already an art. To them, the less they comprehended something, the more valuable it became.
Leonard found a seat close to the window but not too far from the center of the hall. He was afraid of missing the opportunity to witness Rafayel's Muse. Late in the afternoon, the sun glided across the horizon, casting golden rays into the place. The guests began to get tipsy, wondering if Rafayel would show up or if this was all a hoax, when, down the stairs, the host of the party appeared.
He donned a lavish dark blue suit with sculpted sleeves and shoulders that looked to be encrusted with spectrum fish scales. His presence was as magnificent as his name, causing the entire hall to fall silent. Guests held their breath as they watched the young artist stroll down the steps, the heels of his shoes reverberating on the marble floor as if a piece of music had just been executed.
āWelcome to the exhibition.ā Rafayel spoke in a solemn voice. "It appears that all of the guests here are wondering; what exactly has he been doing during the past year? Why didn't he present any of his new work? What's the point of this exhibition?"
Rafayel halted for a moment, his dark eyes behind a few purple curls scrutinizing each guest individually, as if reading them all. The corner of his mouth twisted up in delight as he effectively piqued everyone's interest. He resumed his speech:
āIt all began with a muse. My muse. That's a story perhaps a lucky visitor would unveil in this exhibition. But for nowā¦ā Rafayel lifted a hand. āLet me introduce you to my one and only, Muse.ā
The scorched cloth transformed into crimson tiny particles that flew all about, blending into the fiery sunset outside. The crimson sun halted in the center of the room's largest window, and emerged as an illusion was Rafayel's Muse.
Leonard blinked. In front of him stood a tank of water with a thick glass cylinder. The inside was ornamented with flowers, coral, and white pillars of broken plaster encircling an oval of the glass tank, offering him the sense that he was staring at a lost city under the depths of the ocean. There were schools of brilliant small fish swimming around, weaving between the crevices of the broken world. In the midst of the tableau, there was a woman floating in the water in an upright stance, a few meters above the tank's bottom, conveying an illusion that she was flying. Her head was adorned with pearl jewelry, eyes were closed, as if she was in deep slumber. Her hands opened, allowing the orange-red fish to whirl around her wrists. Then they invited each other to swim along her tiny unclothed arms, to her exquisite neck covered in shimmering pearls, and down to the thin white garment that was floating in the water like her own body. Her bare feet lingered above the seaweed, as if to tease them with the fact that they were unable to grasp her no matter how hard they tried.
A beauty out of this world. That was what Leonard's mind could think of. When he came here, he was full of determination to discover Rafayel's secret, but now, when he witnessed its beauty with his own eyes, he was speechless. His brain felt empty, as if that beauty had filled it and he no longer needed anything else. A melodic rhythm could be heard somewhere, distant seemingly from another universe, but apparently emanating from the tank itself.
All guests were drawn to the center. Rafayel vanished among the crowd that was cheering him. Nobody suspected that Rafayel's Muse was not a painting but an entirely distinct thing. Whatever it was, she was the size of an adult in her mid-twenties. A statue or a doll that resembled a real person?
Leonard brushed past a few astonished others to get closer to the tank. Rafayel's exhibit could easily shock the entire art field. Leonard had already begun pondering concepts for his next piece. Unlike the other guests, who were merely engaged in the beauty in front of them, he was more enthralled by the narrative behind The Muse.
Who was she? Where did her story begin? Leonard sought around for Rafayel's silhouette but could not find him. However, near the stairs, he encountered Thomas with a look of panic and utter shock on his face.
āIt can't beā¦ Noā¦ It can't be herā¦ā Those were the words Leonard could hear before Thomas bolted out of the hall.
There were just a few people invited to the show, and after approximately an hour, they had presumably spent all of their admiration and hypothesis on the tank. They met again in groups to tour Rafayel's studio. Who knows when they would be able to return here again, in ten, twenty, or even fifty years?
Leonard took advantage of the reality that people had left the area to approach closer and examine more, now that he was the only one standing nearby. The Muse was still inside, a smile on her lips, but why did Leonard feel a suffering coming from her? He strolled around the tank to better view her. It was hard to discern whether this was in fact a sculpture by Rafayel or a real person. That was also what the guests spoke about all day.
The Muse was so genuine. To the point that Leonard expected her to open her eyes and climb out of the tank. But she remained still, absorbed in her own undersea world. He stayed frozen, unable to move his gaze away from the tank, for Rafayel had previously stated that within this, his secrets hidden.
Yet Leonard, with his mundane eyes, might never discover it. The only thing he found was possibly a tiny coating of pinkish red water coming from The Muse's breast. That ruby hue seeped through the attire that enveloped her, and it looked nothing like the color that Rafayel often used in his paintings. There was something rather odd about it. It resembled blood, from The Muse herself.
The exhibition came to an end.Ā Guests departed on their own after being notified. Rafayel returned to the lobby. Leonard took the opportunity to ask in an instance:
āMr. Rafayel. May I ask you a few questions regarding the exhibition?
Rafayel gazed at him. To increase his reputation, he identified himself as a journalist who specialized in writing about art.
"Ah. "I remember you." Rafayel responded. "Among the guests, you were the only one who gave an impressive answer to my question."
Leonard tried to recall the survey he was required to complete before Thomas reached him to inform he had an invitation. These questions were all about Rafayel's career, and the answers were readily accessible online. There was just one question, the last one, that sparked a lot of consideration in Leonard, while having nothing to do with Rafayel's works at all.
"If you were given a magical spell that made the person you love love you forever, would you use it?" Rafayel reiterated his query. "You're the only one who chose not to."
Leonard nodded. It was truly what he had said.
"May I know, why?" Rafayel glanced at him with curiosity. Leonard was taken aback, as he had come here expecting to be an interviewer. Who would have guessed it was the other way around?
"A spell is just an illusion." Leonard responded honestly. "That is not love." "Love must come from a true heart."
"A true heartā¦" Rafayel repeated each word. His eyes were as sorrowful and deep as the tranquil water, yet it was terrifying since he had no idea when the storm would arrive. "Perhaps, she would choose the same answer as you."
"Pardon?ā¦" Leonard interrupted Rafayel's thoughts. "Who are you talking about?"
Rafayel smiled but remained silent. Fearing that the young artist might leave without answering, Leonard impatiently said:
āAren't you talking about your Muse? Can you tell me who she is?ā
Rafayel gazed at the girl in the aquarium. He smiled. Just a small movement of the lips conveyed devotion, anguish, and regret.
"She is my true heart." Rafayel's voice resembled a song. But he said nothing more, and Leonard was asked to leave right away.
The Muse's story was forever a mystery. The mystery that Leonard had yet to come very close.
That story began a year ago. Or perhaps, it had originated a long, long time ago.
When a Lemurian gives their heart to someone, it will die if not reciprocated.
Rafayel had given his to a human girl.
He met her when she was a child. She was his savior when he was expecting such a painful death on land, and she helped him return to the sea.
She could not remember who he was, nor did she know that all those years, he had been watching her from afar. Amid the waves, behind the rocks, he watched her grow up.
He met her again as a painter many years later. She happily accepted his company. But it was not all he wanted. He longed for her. He craved her touch to make her become his, in the way he had determined his heart belonged to her.
But, her heart belonged to someone else.
A year ago, she told him that she was getting married.
Rafayel could not recall how frightening his emotions were. No matter how powerful the storms were at sea, they could never match his rage at the time. And, with a dreadful calamity brewing in his head, he did what he did to her.
He bound her with an ancient Lemurian enchantment. He made her fall desperately in love with him. She did everything for him, even abandoning her engagement and following him to a far away place. A secluded island only for them. Glorious summer nights lingered forever on the beach, when she and he were entangled, merging in the waves of never-ending love. He had her how he wished.
However, like an illusion, that spell did not persist forever. It drove her to insanity. She wandered alone on the shore, tears streaming and her mouth constantly crying out the name of the person she truthfully loved with each sob. She begged of him.
āRafayelā¦ Pleaseā¦ Let me goā¦ Pleaseā¦ set me freeā¦ Set me free!ā
Her screams were drowned in the ocean waves. Little did she realize that seeing her in this way made his heart bleed as well.
"Pleaseā¦" She sobbed. Rafayel's dagger was in her grasp, and she pressed it to her throat. "If you won't let me leave... I must free myself..."
"Hush now, my dearestā¦" Rafayel quietly stretched out to her. This was not her first time in this state. He approached her, placed a hand on her forehead, and brushed away her wind-blown hair. Her fingers on the dagger tightened, urging him to back away. However, Rafayel seized the blade that was cutting into her neck, forcing his hand to bleed.
"You don't want to cut yourself, dear."
She trembled and stared at Rafayel. He hummed a very familiar melody, which made her thoughts muddled once more. The dagger slipped from her hand as she collapsed to her knees on the damp beach. Screaming.
āBe still, dearest love.ā Rafayel gently lowered down. His knees were next to hers, as if he, too, was begging her to stay. āI can ease all our sufferingā¦ If you listen to me nowā¦ā
She covered her ears and shook her head with ferocity as if she never wanted to hear another word from him. Rafayel smiled in bitter. She had been like this lately, forgetting who she was and how profoundly she was in love with him. But that was alright. He would help her rekindle her love. She would obey at once as soon as he began singing.
He sang their song. He sang it the first time they met, and he still sang it day by day with her by his side.
She wept tremendously. She clutched her head and pleaded with him to stop. But Rafayel could never. Just like he could not stop the waves from crashing against the shore, who could ever stop his love for her?
After a while, she became quiet. No more yelling and pleading. She gave him an empty stare and a smile.
"Rafayel." She called his name. Her hand found his body, as though she had desired to be close to him since forever. Rafayel embraced her. He stroked and kissed the top of her head. His tears sank, condensing into pearls and nestling on her hair.
āI'm sorryā¦ I'm sorry for turning you into someone like thisā¦ā Rafayel whispered in her ear. āBut I've found a way to fix everything. You shall not suffer any longer... And neither shall I..."
Rafayel held her with one hand as the other sought the dagger's hilt in the moist sand.
āWill you do this for me?ā
He gazed into the eyes of hers which were dreamy under the spell of love. She nodded.
"I vow to do everything for my dearest beloved."
"Very good." Rafayel smiled as he kissed her lips. "You will always be my Museā¦ Mine, forever..."
The dagger swung across the fiery sunset. The water chanted its melody in an ancient ritual. Then everything fell silent.
Rafayel watched her passionately as she slept within the water tank he had specifically built for her. That was her home, now and forever.
His hand stroked across the beautiful design. Her body was adorned with jewelry crafted from his teardrops. She was a masterpiece of his lifetime, which extended to no end. His Muse. His lips found hers on the other side of the glass, and he pressed a kiss.
From now on, she would weep no more. She would feel no pain.
A crimson light emanated from inside the pocket near Rafayel's chest. He pulled out a blazing red protocore.
This entire world will soon know that, her true heart shall forever belong to him and him alone.
Listening to music randomly, there is a song that inspires my mood in this idea, where Xavier enjoys his wine while looking at MC ( doing whatsoever, you name it)
So here is my quick sketch of him. Maybe i will try to color him. In the future. But i'm not sure about it.
Btw, the song i'm listening is Sh*t Blvd - Maneskin. Aha XD
Been a time i havenāt logged game, i just wanted to check anything new in game and i found out wedding banner which was rate up. i told KyKy if i got her first, i would off game immediately. Guess what? i got Johann, i was so happy, and that was enough, just showed her what i got first. But know what, THAT SNAKE CAME UP RIGHT AFTER HIM. PLZ, TAKE A BREAK, WILL YOU????????????????????????????????? WHY YOU KEEP FOLLOWING ME?????????? YOU SNAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thatās it, im done, im soooo done
Fischl: I, Prinzessin der Verurteilung, Fischl spared my time with a young, brave who is from further land, Chongyun to helped him looked for Geoculus.
With my skill, no sins...ahem, Geoculus could hide itself. Finally, he got what he need. No need to thank me.
Chongyun: But i was the one who showed you where exactly it was, no?
Fischl: ahem, i mean, i helped you marked it.
āāā
My heart race just a little bit, he was like a men at the moment.
