Page 16 of Sugar Plum Fae
He pushed himself up, his long coat trailing behind like a dark cloud. There was no rest for the wicked, after all. Roderick closed his eyes and focused on Maxwell's mind, the gambler whose wish was to win at the games of chance he was betting large sums of money on. The world around him transformed into a lavish casino, filled with clinking glasses and the sound of chips hitting the tables as he sifted into Maxwell’s dreams.
"Have you ever considered what will happen when you win too much?" Roderick asked. It was time to shuffle the deck of fate.
He wove a dream of victory after victory for the man. But then, envy and suspicion began to grow in the eyes of the other players. Roderick intensified the emotions, conjuring up a nightmare where one furious player cornered Maxwell in a dimly lit alley, knife in hand, demanding his winnings. Another nightmare took shape, where rumors of cheating led to Maxwell being banned from the casinos.
With a flick of his wrist, the scene twisted. A shadow loomed over Maxwell's mountain of winnings, snatching it in a whirl of greed and malice. Cards scattered like fallen leaves in a storm, and faces around the table morphed from awe to suspicion.
"Cheater," they hissed as the dream wove into its darker turn.
Maxwell's eyes darted, panic creeping into his dream-self as accusations flew like daggers. Another twist, another nightmare—his pockets turned inside out, empty, as a faceless thief vanished into the night with his fortune.
Roderick withdrew, the taste of fear and second thoughts lingering in the air as Maxwell jolted awake. "Be careful what you wish for," Roderick whispered to the void, a half-smile playing on his lips. "The house always wins."
Roderick's gaze shifted from the dissipating remnants of Maxwell's dreams to the murky tendrils of Stephen's slumber. As he stepped into the new dream, a scene materialized before him of a grand feast. Stephen sat at the head of the table, surrounded by his family.
"So you wished for reconciliation," Roderick mused, observing the idyllic scene. He leaned against a wall, arms crossed, as the family exchanged stories and smiles. It was almost sickeningly sweet.
As the dream evening wore on, Stephen's sister cleared her throat. "Stephen, I need to ask you for a favor," she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.
"Of course, what is it?" Stephen asked, concern furrowing his brow.
"Money. I need money." His sister's voice was sweet as poisoned honey, her hand outstretched across the table. Stephen's eyes flickered with knowledge and pain, the kind that comes from loving someone who's walking a destructive path.
Roderick twisted the air with a finger, the scene warping subtly. The sister's eyes held a desperate glint, and the parents' smiles tightened, revealing the fractures in this idyllic dream.
Stephen hesitated, his fingers drumming on the table. He knew all too well that his sister would use the money to buy opium. Their parents, however, remained blissfully ignorant of her addiction.
"Please, Stephen," she begged, desperation edging her words.
"Fine," Stephen relented, gritting his teeth. The price of peace had been paid, but for how long?
"Another wish twisted by reality," Roderick muttered, pushing away from the wall. Stephen should have wished for his sister to be free of her addiction. As he prepared to leave the dream, a familiar figure shimmered into existence, her golden hair catching the soft candlelight.
“Why are you spoiling their wishes? Can't you let them have this moment?" Candace appeared beside him within the dream, light and fury wrapped in one divine package. "You're turning wishes into warnings."
"Consider it a public service," Roderick countered. "Reality checks are complimentary here."
"That’s not what we agreed on.”
He arched an eyebrow, unfazed by her anger. "I'm preparing them for reality, my dear. Sunsidhe and moonsidhe can manipulate events to make things work in their realms. But here in the mortal world, each mortal has the path they must travel. Wishes rarely change that. At best, it just delays the inevitable."
“You tricked me.” A storm of confusion and hurt brewed in her lovely eyes.
“No, I didn’t.”
“I thought we built the well to help people. You’re using it as a way to torment them.”
“You say torment, I say helping them cope with life.”
“I can’t believe you would ruin Yule for them like this.” Candace's expression clouded with doubt and sorrow. With a flicker of golden light, she was gone, leaving Roderick alone once more.
"Goodbye to you too, sunshine," he said dryly, watching as Stephen's dream began to fray at the edges.
It was time for the next nightmare, but first, he needed a moment to recharge. He returned to his realm, wondering why Candace had left so abruptly. A strange mix of guilt and annoyance nagged at him. He glided through the dreams in Whitlock, hoping to find a glimpse of her. But her presence wasn’t there.
At the end of the night, a few hours before dawn, Roderick was half asleep and yet he wasn’t ready to rest himself. His thoughts were still heavy with the weight of Candace's disappointment. He needed a friend, and the only one that would still be up was Ben. As he made his way through the town, the shadows clung to him like a cloak, hiding his presence from prying eyes.
To his surprise, he found Ben leaning against the wishing well, a contemplative expression on his ageless face.