Chapter Text
Recap Of Nightmares and Sins Trilogy: Dream's time with Roderick Burgess was changing in many ways - when the old magus called upon a new magician to change the rules of the cage, it started a cascade... one that sent Johanna Constantine into Dream's path and eventually led to the birth of Dread of the Endless, a partial remaking. One created in part of a game of Desire's and Lucifer's; however, it was undone in thanks to Johanna, Hob and Dream's family (Desire included)... except Dread became its own nightmare, its own person - eventually possessing Hob, then Johanna, and further tormenting Dream... corrupting his entire family into darker versions of themselves Doom, Demise, Disaster, Desperation, Depression, and Demented - ones not bound by blood or law.
Ones that took every family grievance out on Dream - every piece of him they could take, they tried... and to save them, Dream gave in to Lucifer - to her every whim. Dread was defeated, the corrupted returned to being Endless, and Dread was reborn/remade into Deceit of the Endless.
Lucifer, however, did not get to keep her prize. While she held Dream's life, the Endless refused to leave him, Desire especially so given everything they had been through with Dream, - leading to Lucifer forcefully being abdicated from Hell and bound... with a secret of what she truly took from Dream during his time in her care... and in turn - for all the blood spilt and for the human lives lost from the corrupted, Dream was turned human - no memories, no family - by the Fates... however, he does have Johanna, Hob, and Calliope - which was needed given the trauma he had undergone.
And this is where this story picks up
Prologue: By the Grace of God
Aila was six when she knew she wasn’t… like the other children. For one, her mother wanted so little to do with her that she was practically a piece of furniture – to the point Maize was her primary caregiver. Two, she was simply not allowed around other children. It made growing up difficult and hard – and isolating. Aila hated to be alone. She always wanted to be around someone or something, but the one time she had even brought a cat home… well, they did not have a cat for long.
However, Aila was nothing but adaptable. She was smart and capable, and by the time she was the age most kids were learning to drive, she was discovering exactly how much she was not like other children – by learning to fight, to read ancient texts and understanding dead and mythical languages. Instead of going out with boys, she was starting to understand there was magic in the world… and she had some ability to yield it or so Maize said… her mother said nothing, never did or would… but Aila – she accepted this was her life, she was different – and that was okay. Or so she told herself.
However, it never erased that feeling of longing from Aila. To have a mother that loved her – or at least tolerated her – or to at least know her father. She had asked once, only to be told he was nothing but a donor, and that was the end of it.
When she had in turn asked Maize, surprisingly, she had been given a very similar answer. Usually, Maize was more open about things – answering many of her consistent questions about the world. Except about her father. It made her wonder why – not that they were willing to answer that either.
When she became an adult, that was when things truly changed.
And didn’t. Whatever her mother expected of her, Aila apparently wasn’t it. Her powers came into being, but her mother had taken one look, one moment of interest of her, on the eve of her twentieth birthday, and that was it. Since that day, nothing. Not a blip, not a glance, nothing.
However, it didn’t change that Aila was aware that she was not like other humans – or human at all. The wings she could summon should she choose too – black feathery dowry things with silver specks… that alone frustrated her mother… and the power she could yield. It was… impressive.
Maize had taken to training Aila – basic combat, defense when she should have been learning to drive… but before Aila had come into being, her caretaker had been more than a match for her. Now? Now as she was, she was more than Maize could handle – but it wasn’t enough. Or strong enough. Or… Or…
Whatever her mother wanted – Aila, obviously, wasn’t it.
The only other advantage Aila saw to her being was that once she was an adult – by their standards – was that she could go looking for her father. It wasn’t as though she needed a babysitter any longer, and she had enough foreknowledge to be cautious when needed and capable as warranted.
Maize would say she’s being overzealous, egotistical – a trait Aila was uncertain who she inherited from. But her curiosity was obviously not from her mother. No, her mother was many things, but not curious, imaginative, or loving.
Aila… Aila hoped her father was.
Nephilim or not, Aila craved affection like any child did.
And all she wanted to know was her family – what she truly was – and what the world expected of her.
…………….
Aila had… it had taken a lot to get a name from Maize… about who her father was. Aila had spun it as just wanting to understand more her lineage – why she existed. However, the demon had said nothing – refused… until Aila had found a faerie-based alcohol that would actually inebriate the demon.
Then, Maize was much more open and willing to spill it all. Or at least some… tidbits – a name, a concept… something
With that information, Aila left the following morning while Maize slept it off, and her mother… her mother was off doing something, with someone… she didn’t know, and while part of her ached to understand why she was such a disappointment, she didn’t let it stop her.
Instead, Aila braided her blond hair into a tight bun, threw on some discrete clothes – what she’d seen humans wear time and time again -, and she set off.
It takes a few hours for Aila to find a library – it wasn’t one of Maize’s lessons, but once she did, she worked to find sources and information on her father… only to find literally nothing. A few quick internet searches, and there were zero results returned.
Part of Aila disheartens at the turnabout. She wouldn’t likely have much time before her caretaker came after her. For a child that her mother cared little for, her mother also did not let her leave for long periods unattended. No, Aila needed a result and a direction before she was found.
With a heavy breath, Aila refines her search – going from searching from ‘real’ people to looking into lore. It wasn’t like Aila was normal; she was aware of that, so why would her father be.
Once she stopped searching for real sources and started to look more into myth and legends… she had better success – only to finally find a real source. A book based on similar concepts that she was searching… and in turn a real person.
An author.
Aila stares at the computer screen, uncertain of what to absorb from the biography and picture afforded. Aila leans in close, trying to see any family resemblance, but she doesn’t… She’s uncertain.
As well as the man was an author. An author? Would her father really be that mundane? Except based on her research, he wasn’t – shouldn’t. She didn’t… understand. He was human, apparently, but that didn’t make any sense to her either. There were obviously parts of the story – her story – that she did not have.
Meaning, Aila ditches her phone – a ridiculous contraption in her opinion given magic existed – and looks up the man’s next book signing. She would have rather gone to his house, but that was unlisted… and she didn’t understand her magic well enough to cast a tracking spell, not without some piece of him – blood, hair, something. Maybe at the signing, she could grab something, she considers.
However, the signing is a few towns over – a few hours away – which given her magic shouldn’t be all that difficult to transverse. Except… by the third time, Aila sits exhausted, sweat marring her features, panting. She had never tried such a lengthy jump before, nor into areas she was not as familiar with. Snapping around the house, stepping between rooms was far easier than this.
Perhaps, Aila wonders if this is what her mother disliked about her. She sits, taking a bite out of… she isn’t entirely sure what… she glances at the wrapper before not caring again… and thinking back on this use of her abilities. She was… per Maize… powerful – or supposed to be… or something. But she felt exhausted, worn down, after only a few short trips.
She was… a disappointment because of this? That’s all Aila can think – she was powerful per Maize or supposed to be… and perhaps, she was not. Or at least not enough for whatever her mother wanted or expected of her. She frowns at the thought.
She can only hope her father does not care… would he… she doesn’t even think he knows she exists. Maybe that would work to her benefit – no expectations. She can’t fail what he doesn’t already have preconceived.
Finishing, the snack bar – Aila tosses the trash into a nearby garbage can, ignoring the screaming speakers of the gas station now only playing static, though she does wonder why the lights are off… and why no one is here… but only for a moment before she moves forward. She doesn’t want to linger – after all, she suspects Maize will be chasing her soon enough.
The city Aila lands in… it’s quiet… small town feel with a small to medium bookstore – not usually the place a famous author would likely visit, so she wonders if this has some meaning to the author – or perhaps, maybe he lives in the area.
Either way, Aila takes advantage of the lesser crowds. She’s able to find a good spot to watch for the man – she could get in line, but for the moment, she waits. She’s… Aila realizes it quickly – she’s nervous. She’s never… done this before – never disobeyed to this degree, never snuck out. She… had been so desperate for her mother to love her, that she had done whatever she thought was needed to get it – and now…
Now, Aila wonders how this will turn out for her – will her mother be upset, relieved, angry… would her father experience similar things at the realization of her existence?
The moment he walks into her view, Aila doesn’t know how she reacts – she tenses, that’s a certainty, but otherwise, she only holds her breath as he walks by. He wears dark, muted clothes – hair completely in disarray like his picture, and he has his nose inside a book. Everything Aila expects… and none of it feels right… because while he looks human…
Even she can sense… something off – different. Otherworldly.
As she suspected. Whatever he was, it was not what he was pretending to be. Which flabbergasts Aila. Why would… whatever he was… be this when he could be – but Aila stops there. She doesn’t even know what he is, but she intends to find out.
Aila sits through the signing – electing to stay back and not get anything signed herself. She doesn’t… she wants her first interaction to be… less crowded… perhaps, he did know what or who she was, and that wouldn’t be ideal in front of a bunch of people.
Instead, she waits and waits, and once the man leaves, Aila follows him. She follows him for three blocks, fifteen minutes, and to two different coffee shops – which she didn’t understand, even as he gathered what appeared to be more than one drink. She wonders if he’s meeting someone, somewhere – only to find he’s making his way to an art gallery. She recalls some show – something about ancient Greek art and history - also being here on this date – she wonders if this was why he planned this signing? Because of this show? But… Aila still doesn’t understand it.
Nothing about this makes any sense.
Aila figures she’ll corner him in the show, maybe see if she can pull him into a corner, or just continue to watch him – try to understand any of this. She’s undecided, mere feet from the door, when she’s pulled into an alley and pinned.
A creature has her around the throat – sunglasses obscuring his face, but the smell, the power radiating off of him – Aila recognizes. He’s not human either.
“Why are you following Morpheus?” the thing growls at her, obviously expecting her to show some fear; however, Aila merely curls her own lip, bringing her knee up harshly to dislodge the creature and sends him scampering a few feet back. In the shadows of the alley, her wings flash against the wall – just as his sunglasses crack against the pavement.
Aila stares at the rows of teeth where eyes should sit… and she recalls a lesson from Maize – the Corinthian.
“You’re a nightmare,” Aila states.
“What are…” the Corinthian starts – eyes focused on where the wings were. However, he focuses back on the young woman for the moment and not what he thinks he saw. “There are very few creatures that have wings… ones that I have met personally, but you’re not Lucifer Morningstar.”
“No, she’s my mother,” Aila states, head held high.
The Corinthian growls, “Then, you’re not getting near Morpheus.” The nightmare wouldn’t allow it. After all these years, he would not allow the former angel to start things again – not when… things were better. The Fates were sated. The Endless were... not actively in-fighting - anymore, most days, a majority of days, at least-, and Dream was - Dream was sleeping. He was healing, he was getting where he needed to be. One human lifetime… the entirety of the Dreaming was counting down the days… there were still decades to go, but at least, it was no longer day one of this punishment. He wouldn’t let Lucifer ruin it all – not now, not ever. Not again.
“Like hell, I’m not,” Aila states. “He’s my father, and I want to meet him.”
And the nightmare… falls completely silent. Shit.
Quick Notes: This is going to be… hopefully incredibly short (by short, I mean like 10-20 chapters as compared to my other works). Like it’s sort of a companion story using the what if Lucifer and Dream did end up… having a Nephilim. This story will be more focused on an OC as such… but you’ll see quick how we sort of play with that. This story will have some of the characters from Of Nightmares Trilogy but we're going to leave a lot of them to their happy endings - mostly. The Corinthian gets to take center stage here. Happy reading… and yes, Aila is a bit of a child. She… wasn’t exactly raised in the best situation. She’s an adult, yes, but young – so give her some grace.