Through a Glass Darkly, Part One

She didn’t go back at first. She’d had fun with her aunt–that still sounded strange to say–but the place had not exactly been a revelation. No matter how avant garde the nobility thought they were, it seemed there were always some limits to the imagination. Still…it was good to know that there were those in her family who were trying to expand her experiences, rather than limit them. Peg didn’t think she’d ever had anyone look proudly at her for being less ladylike than anticipated. Ironically, May had done more to get her to engage with the other AC students than anyone else had ever managed. Maybe Grey’s could be a good compromise, she considered. It was somewhere respectable, frequented by people of her age and station. Vera would like that. But it also offered more…interesting…options for when she inevitably became bored with the types of conversations she was “supposed” to have. And it was certainly convenient.
 
So back she went.
 
At first, she enjoyed the cards and conversation. Especially when accompanied by a “specialty drink,” Peg found that the topics she was supposed to be engaging with at school were actually a great deal more interesting. She got particular enjoyment in helping the younger female students argue their points and in putting down, without preamble, the derivative ideas of young men who thought themselves the next great thinkers of Eisen.
 
For a few nights, it was enough. Relaxed company, some (mostly) friendly debate, an occasional opportunity to speak her mind, and even a few–she grudgingly admitted–interesting people to talk to. But they weren’t friends, and she could never truly drop her guard. And so she went from “Misty Mornings” to “Bittersweet Blisses” to “Sassy Sirens” searching for something to stimulate her, to keep her engaged…to imitate the feeling of being at ease.
 
One evening, she came in, and someone whose name she couldn’t remember and whose face she barely recognized called out to her and invited her to join their game of whist. She didn’t come back for several days after that.
 
And then…real adventure found her. The kind that she didn’t talk about when her delightfully bubbly Aunt May asked her what kind of entertainment she preferred. The kind that made her chest pound in her heart and her blood pump so hard she could hear it. The kind that threatened at any moment to rip her from her mortal coil. How could cards and drinks and displays of sex possibly compete?
 
The grey, strangely elongated form of the Bodak looked back at her with its empty, lifeless eyes. She saw it in her own reflection in the mirror, out of the corner of her eye, when she closed her eyes at night to sleep. It was, by all measures, a horrifying creature. Even to Peg, who enjoyed the grotesque, who was drawn to the demonic…even for her that gaze was…too much. And yet.
 
And yet, she would look again. Even knowing what it had done to her, she would do the same. For the curiosity…assuredly. For the hubris that perhaps this time she could look at it and not be overwhelmed…likely. But, she admitted to herself in the dark corners of her mind where no one else could hear her, for more than that…for the moment just before her body crumpled to the ground when she could feel her lifeforce being torn from her. She would look again for that moment.
 
Better, she mused, than the terrifying visage of the ghosts that brought her body to a feeble form, but failed to take her from the world. That…she shuddered. However she might finally leave the world, she would not let herself die of old age. A mind she didn’t trust in a body that could do nothing. That was not for her. She wondered if others would understand or if all they would see was their own pain at her dead body. She pushed away the image of Alyosius Esch laid out on a table, Katja beside him. It was selfish to make others go through that if you had the power not to. But she knew she would do it anyway.
 
Her next visit to Grey’s Social Club was…different. She stayed away from the cards and the academic debates. In fact, she stayed away from everything. She acquired a room designed for private entertaining and she broke her rule about never drinking alone. Whatever the bartender would bring her, she drank. It was a curated experience, Peg realized later, designed to heighten all of her sensations. She was offered a veritable menu of experiences to go along with her drinks, but she declined them all. Nothing was quite what she was looking for. She ended the evening feeling sick and decided she did not need to return.