She is enchanted by the look of the gardens under the silver of moonlight and the gold of lamplight. "As though all were gilded by some delicate hand, or perhaps limned by the dance of hidden fairies." It seems my earlier rhapsody of the night has cast quiet a spell over her. Her motions have that slight drag to them, as though she moved under water, and her eyes are coated in delicate nebulae of stars - she must feel as though she has slipped into some other realm, some twilight place part dream and part fantasy.
        Good. Since she will not quite believe anything which happens around or to her to be real, she will be that much more open to suggestion, much more open to following the slight - and strongest - whims. So, I encourage the feeling of a dream:
        I walk her along a path paved with crushed marble, which captures the dim light and then refracts it into a thousand shimmering pieces. The path, so lit and so reflecting, seems to radiate a glow itself, glowing softly against the unending twilight, its light marred only by the gentle passage of our shadows.
        I point out to her a particularly lovely rose bush, its silken blossoms lined with tiny crystals of dew. The tender petals seem threaded with the smallest and brightest of diamonds, for even in this faint light the droplets shimmer, and seem all the brighter for the darkness around. The fragrance of the roses, so faint in daylight, seems all the more alluring in the subtle realm of after-day.
        I dance with her around the glistening fountain, waltzing in slow revolution around its thousand cascading stars. We are the only ones who exist, in this world of shimmering twilight, where all is a coruscating darkness. It is in her hair of glistening star's milk that she wears the bit of honeysuckle, and its fragrance permeates every breath, mixing with the chilly effervescence of the night air. Her short jacket does nothing to quell the motions of her flowing skirt, which floats through the air as a white cloud, only seen in motion faster than its normal trek through the sky, that the grace of its fluid motions may be seen clearly. Her eyes catch every drop of the shining light, and seem to cast a radiance all about them, casting all into sapphire light and amethyst shadow. And though her gaze drinks in all the ethereal beauty around her, it is always to my face that her eyes return, to my hand clasped around hers, to the graceful shadows we send along the ground to entwine with the rest. She looks to me, and I cannot help but be carried away for a moment in the dream she sees, I have cast it so beautifully!
        "Oh!" she gasps, her lips a blossoming rose beside her flushed cheeks. "Oh, Adrian, would that this dance would never end! But I must catch my breath, oh hateful frailty of body!"
        I smile tenderly and catch her up in my arms - she is so small and light! I cradle her sweetly just a moment longer than needed, then seat her gently on a bench opposite the fountain, that she may look upon its endless coruscations as she regains her breath.
        I reach to a nearby trellis, and pluck a bit of snowy jasmine, bowing as I present it to her. She smiles, and there is nearly a queenly ait to her, and for a moment I catch a glimpse of the woman she will one day become.
        "Do twine it into my hair for me, beside the honeysuckle?" she asks sweetly, her cheeks flushed, though I doubt it is still from the exercise.
        "Certainly, Cerise," I reply, my voice low and tender, caressing her name as I speak it. Her eyelashes flutter demurely, moving, I am sure, in echo of her heart's palpitations. I sit beside her, and there is a warm electricity in the slight space between us. Ah, that first thrilling rush of a fresh love! Her hair is as silken to the touch as it is to sight, and I let my fingers trail through it just a moment, as I carefully fix the jasmine beside the honeysuckle, entwining the vines and fragrances, now inhaling the subtle sweetness of her hair mingling behind the stronger scents of the flowers.
        "Adrian..." Her voice hushed, tender and tentative, yearning and afraid. I bring a hand slowly to her face and brush my fingertips over the smooth skin of her cheek. Oh, the fleeting beauties of youth! I, even I, find that freshness fading so slowly from me, fading now as a flower left too long in the sun... but no, I will not be drawn in to frivolous self-pity, not in a moment like this!
        She exhales slowly, closing her eyes a moment as her lips curve elegantly. When she opens again those violets of radiant hue, they are gazing into mine. "Adrian..."
        I expect now some profession of adoration, unless I have entirely missed my guess - which has not happened in nearly a century.
        "Adrian, you are too beautiful, so filled with grace that it hardly seems you belong to this world."
        Here I smile - apparently in answer to her praise, but truly because she hardly guesses the truth of her words. But she has not finished.
        "And you have so captivated me, that I begin to doubt my senses, such rapture of beauty are they saturated with this night... Adrian, I... I do not know if you were told this, so many at the party were, but I see... I see things that cannot be seen, I catch snatches of voices long gone from this world. My heart beats strange rhythms which do not align to those around me... Oh, Adrian, I saw this night such lovely wings, bursting in rapture from your back!"
        My heart stops - but I have so long kept a façade that it remains now in place without conscious thought.
        And so she continues, unaware of the terror and rage which flare within me. "Oh, such lovely, radiant wings, shining brighter than the stars, swirling in graceful motion in the currents left in the air by our dance, curling tenderly around us both... I, I do not know what it means, if it means anything at all. I have seen such wings only twice before, once at the party, and once.. again, with another of your set. Adrian, there is such a distant, heartbreaking sadness - no, more than sadness, despair - which clings to the shadows around all of you... Adrian, there is... there is not some death, hanging near to you?"
        She seeks to meet my eyes, in anxious concern I am sure but I can stand none of it, the smell of the honeysuckle suddenly sickens me.
        "...Adrian? Are you alright?"
        Oh how I hate that question and all that it implies! I have let my expression slip there is some prying mortal near me who thinks it can help one in a situation beyond its tiny range of comprehension I have allowed a moment of weakness and look as one of them!
        "Adrian!" she calls after me as I stalk rapidly away from her, away from this suddenly enraging creature, this failed scene. Whyever did I give her a name by which to call me, I hate the very sound of it.
        "Adrian!" She grabs my arm - she has run after me, the tiresome thing! I shake her hand free from me. She grabs at me again, and I snarl openly. Yet she will not be gone, she stands defiant and grasps my arm tightly, with all the (annoyingly great) strength of her will. "Adrian, what have I said to offend you? Surely that I see beyond does not---"
        "Child, you could not understand."
        She is stopped only a moment by the frigidity of my tone. "Adrian... I am not a child. My sight is not so limited as that of most. It is perfectly clear to me there is some great secret behind all of you, there is no use at all pretending otherwise."
        I merely stare at her in cold silence.
        She sighs, and squeezes my arm gently. "I will not pry it from you. Such is not my place, and I do not hope you will confide in me. Still..." Her voice is softening, regaining its childlike shyness. "Still, do not hide so far from me, I can see some scrap of your mystery, and I have not shied from it, have I? Do let me remain near, I have so enjoyed your company tonight..."
        I pause a moment and consider. I suppose I could feign a giving-in, a submission to her comfort, and grant her the illusion of having gained my trust, which will in turn make her feel closer to me, and thus potentially lead to pleasant ends. On the other hand... have I the energy for such? I become so exhausted from such flashes of rage, such overwhelming and all-consuming floods of memory that need pushed back into the depths of my mind, back behind the centuries of existence. Oh how tiresome this life becomes, when it falls away from such lovely plans! I had everything so nicely laid in place for the evening, and now I am forced to improvise, how impossibly tiresome.
        I sigh and move the few remaining steps over to the fountain, and seat myself on the low wall which surrounds it. I lean against a stone urn draped with some mixture of damp foliage, and let my gaze wander without focus. I listen only to the sound of the water, I look only into the faint shimmers of the darkness before me, I look until the stars have blurred and become only the world again. I stare until my eyes have gone dark, and all darkness is pressed back behind me, and my mind has pushed aside all thoughts but those I wish to keep there.
        It is late at night. I am in a park, which looks quite lovely by night. There is a young and terribly attractive girl here, whom I have brought to like me. She believes I will be open with her, as she believes herself to be open to many things which are not in the usual realm of experience.
        This is an arrangement I can manage.
        I open my eyes, and look for her. She stands near, perhaps a few feet away, to give me privacy but also keeping close company, amusing herself by studying the foliage in another urn. Really, she is such a very aware and intelligent child, she shall grow to have such a wonderful sense of tact. "Cerise," I call softly, and as she looks up I motion her over to me. She smiles, almost in relief, and when she is in reach I take her hand between both of mine, holding it warmly as I look up into her face, with all the appearance of bare honesty. "Cerise, dear, do forgive me, I... I have not always been well, there are things in my past I do not wish to discuss, it... I have been through much pain, as you have surely seen. I wish to make my life anew, and keep all that dreadful past locked behind me. Do, Cerise, do indulge me in this, for I should truly love to enjoy my time spent with you."
        "Oh, Adrian!" She drops to her knees before me, her pale skirt pooling around her as she lays her head in my lap and presses her palms against my knees. "You must warn me whenever I am about to say something foolish, I do it so often and I truly don't mean to, I---"
        I silence her, putting a finger tenderly to her lips. She looks up at me, her eyes wide and caught between hope and anxiety and a sudden rush of sensation hitherto unknown. Oh, that sweet innocence! It is a wine of which one can never have too much, one can become quite drunk on it and yet never tire. I slide my finger slowly down over her lips to her chin, and trace lightly along her slim neck. She swallows involuntarily, and I cannot help but smile. I grasp her chin tenderly, tilting it upward, as I lean down to brush my lips across hers, lighter than the brush of starlight upon the skin, leaving a sparkling tingle which makes her scarcely dare draw breath, for fear she shall blow away the essence of what I have just given her.
        Suddenly she starts back, her gaze turned sharply away, looking about anxiously.
        Puzzled, I lay a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Cerise, darling, are you all right?"
        "Oh, Adrian, what is the time! Do you not hear that chime in the distance? Oh I have missed a few strokes, I do not know, have you a watch?"
        It is no use pretending I do not, the intricate chain shows clearly from my jacket pocket. "Of course, dear... it seems to be midnight. What a lovely hour, is it not? So full of---"
        "Oh Adrian I am so terribly sorry, but I must go!"
        I laugh lightly, not taking her entirely seriously, knowing I can coerce her back to my side. "My dearest Cinderella! I promise I shall carry you home myself, do not worry about your carriage, or the disappearance of your delicate slippers."
        She grins, melting a little. "You are such a dear, you really must let me find you more often in the night streets. Will you promise to meet me tomorrow night? I am so sorry I must leave, but I have given my promise, and I really must attend this meeting."
        I clasp her hand tightly as she rises, looking up at her with an expression I believe quite mournful. "Cerise... must you go?"
        She nods decisively, squeezing my hand. "I must, yes. But you will meet me tomorrow? We have waited so long to meet alone as this, it should be no trouble at all to wait another day to spend more time together." She smiles without a care, sliding her hand out from mine.
        I could, of course, go into some melodramatic fit of misery, and thus keep her beside me, for fear I should "do something dreadful" if I were not closely watched and kept company. And there is always the route of a straightforward seduction, I could grab her 'round her tiny waist and carry her off into the areas of densest bushes, and kiss her until she was breathless and her breast heaving, and deflower the tender bud right there on the ground - I am certain I could carry it off in such a manner that she would not be horrified at all, merely swept away by the romance of the thing.
        But ah, I feel so tired this night... perhaps I shall merely find a place to sleep, with a bottle of wine to carry me there. I shall save this one for a night in which I will enjoy her to the fullest, I will let her go for now. I stand and give her a final, tender kiss on her cheek, and smile as she flushes again.
        "Farewell, dear one... I shall find you again soon, do not worry. It is not far that you need go to your destination? For it is late, and you are a girl walking alone in these streets..."
        She shakes her head, still smiling. "It is scarcely out of sight from here, and-- oh there! That woman there, she goes as well, I met her some days ago and she is entirely too kind, I shall walk with her. But do find me tomorrow, I shall look for you."

        I watch her as she goes, her step light and full of life and energy, full of that joy in mere existence which comes so easily to the young... and I wonder, was that a joy we ever knew, we, who began so long before Time Began? Ah, but I am weary, I will not think of this now.
        I remain a few minutes in the park, letting the mist of the fountain cool my skin and my thoughts, the endless sound of the water a dullness that calms me. I take a long, slow breath, and rise to my feet, looking about me and considering in which direction to head. I have a room not far from here, and it is one of particular comfort, filled with soft cushions and feather-stuffed throws of warm velvet. It is the perfect place to wrap oneself in warmth and consolation, and I recall having had some especially good wine sent there several days ago. I shall rest there for a time, and perhaps, Cerise will find me again soon.