The Roma and Her Demon, Part 2: The Trouble with Yubel

Once back inside Notre Dame, Quasimodo gently laid Esmeralda down onto a smooth wooden pew in the quiet, candle-lit nave of the cathedral, while Phoebus stood watch near the heavy doors, listening carefully for any sounds of Frollo's men regrouping outside.

"We should be safe in here for a while," Quasimodo told the others.

"Yes—but only for a while," Esmeralda reminded him, still relatively weak from the aftereffects of Yubel's magic.  "Frollo is not going to stop until he gets what he wants—and he wants me dead for defying him."

"And there's a good chance that this time, he won't let any trivial rule like Sanctuary keep him from trying to achieve that," Quasimodo reasoned.  "But in the meantime, Esmeralda, you need to explain a few things."

"Such as?" Esmeralda prompted.

Quasimodo rubbed the back of his neck, and responded while trying to process everything he had recently witnessed. "Let's start with Yubel, for one thing," he proposed.  "You said she somehow merged her spirit with your body?"

Esmeralda sighed in resignation and affirmed, "Yes."

"And how did this all happen, exactly?"

Esmeralda briefly averted her gaze before explaining.  "OK, here's the deal.  When Frollo tried to burn me alive on that platform outside, I'd passed out from all the heat and the smoke, and ended up halfway between this world and the next."  She paused for a breath, which was finally starting to steady as she leaned back against the oak pew.  "That's when Yubel showed up and explained everything about me and Frollo—namely, about the events of his assault on me after I'd run in here for refuge."

Quasimodo gazed at Esmeralda sympathetically and encouraged, "Go on."

Esmeralda eyed the altar, seemingly nodding at something only she was able to see or hear, and then continued.  "Anyway, according to Yubel, Frollo had left some kind of... dark stain on my soul when he'd restrained me and run his nose against my hair."

She paused, shuddering at the mere memory of the event.  "And just recently, in the square, when he'd lit that fire to carry out my sentence, that residual stain was cleansed around the time I'd blacked out, and somehow I'd ended up back in my body a few minutes later, completely unharmed and untouched."

She winced in pain as if she were recovering from a headache.  "But, when I'd gotten my bearings again, I'd felt... different—like I was no longer alone, despite still being physically so."  She thought for a moment and then deduced, "Apparently, as I was waking up again from my out-of-body experience, Yubel must have latched onto my disembodied essence and hitched a ride in the process!"

Yubel materialized beside the altar, her pink skin and half-white, half-purple hair glowing faintly in the dim sanctuary light. "Fusing our essences was the only way of anchoring your soul back to this plane of existence," she explained softly, her dual-layered voice echoing slightly off the high stone arches. "However, I had not intended for my dark power to poison your pure heart. We must find a balance, or else the next time we strike, the ensuing backlash will finish us both."

Quasimodo sat on the edge of the pew, his eyes filled with deep sympathy as he gazed at her. "OK, so, if I'm getting this right, had Yubel not intervened when she did, then—"

"—I would not even be alive right now," Esmeralda finished his thought with a grim nod. "Got it in one.  However, though, this recent fusion has also left me with some unfortunate side effects."  She sighed.  "That Nightmare Pain power of hers—it's literally murder, depending on how many people get afflicted by it.  Every time Yubel uses it, or makes me use it through my body, it torments anyone it touches with every negative experience they've had in life."  She sighed again.  "However, as I mentioned earlier, the more people who get affected by it, the more I get punished.  All those painful memories that get resurfaced, they all flood into my mind and heart all at once, overwhelming me physically and mentally.  And it's literally tearing me apart!"

Yubel floated down to eye level, her three eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight of the altar. "The human mind was never meant to be a vessel for a spirit's vengeance," she stated plainly, her dual voice dropping to a somber tone. "My power reflects the sins of the wicked back upon them.  However, because our life forces are now woven together, your empathy acts as an open door.  You currently feel the weight of Frollo's rot—the weight of the sins of everyone my power touches—because your soul is still too gentle to shut it all out."

Phoebus stepped away from the door, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword as he joined the group. "And, if Frollo gathers the city guard or calls in any other reinforcements, we're not gonna be dealing with just one man's sins," he pointed out grimly. "If Yubel attempts to blast a whole battalion with that magic, whether by herself or through you, the ensuing feedback could end up stopping your heart completely."

"In that case, Esmeralda, we must train, you and me," Yubel declared, her dual-layered voice shifting from solemn regret to sharp determination. "You need learn how to wield my power of righteous justice while detaching your mind from the mutual pain."

Esmeralda rubbed her temples, looking skeptically at the floating spirit. "And just where would we train, exactly, Yubel?" she demanded impatiently.  "Frollo’s army is right outside those doors, so we don't actually have weeks to sit around in a monastery."

"We will not need weeks," Yubel clarified, her vertical third eye pulsing with a faint violet light.  "The bond we now share is immediate.  The problem is not time; it is control.  You are absorbing all the nightmares because you are fighting the aftereffects of my magic like an invading wave.  You must learn to let the agony pass through you without allowing it to take root within your spirit."

Quasimodo looked between the two of them, his face filled with concern. "Wait—is that actually safe?" he pressed worriedly.  "Because if she does open up her mind like she did before, she could collapse—or worse."

"It is the only way that she will survive the night," Yubel insisted plainly and coldly, turning her gaze back toward the heavy wooden doors of the cathedral.  From the plaza outside, all three of them could hear the faint, angry shouts of Frollo's regrouping forces start to echo. "Frollo will not respect the law of Sanctuary for long. And when he does breach those doors—and he surely will—Esmeralda must be ready to launch a counterattack without literally breaking her own heart."

But before anyone could utter another word, all four of them heard the sound of heavy footsteps echoing sharply against the stone floor.

"Someone's coming," Esmeralda noted.  "Yubel, I think you should hide."

"You're right," Yubel agreed.  "Time to make like the ending of a stage scene and fade out."  And then she leaped up toward the high ceiling and vanished behind a distorted shimmering wave, just as the others heard a familiar male voice call out.

"Quasimodo! Esmeralda! What is going on out there?"

Esmeralda breathed a sigh of relief, as it was the voice of the Archdeacon calling, and as he approached, his footsteps continued to echo sharply against the stone floor as he rushed down the nave, his face pale with worry.

"Your Excellency," Phoebus regarded the holy man as he bowed curtly.  "Thank goodness you're here.  We have a situation."

"What is it?" the Archdeacon asked urgently.

Esmeralda sighed again, in exhaustion, leaning heavily against the wooden pew. "Frollo," she replied simply. "He's basically declared war on Paris itself—and all because I miraculously survived his so-called 'Ultimate Justice' when he tried to burn me alive."

"What?" the Archdeacon gasped, but before he could say another word, the air inside the church suddenly grew cold. A sharp, localized gust of wind picked up, rustling the tapestries and causing the altar candles to flicker violently. The old priest gripped his robes, shivering as he called, "Hello?  Is someone else here?"

"Ah—interesting," Yubel’s dual-layered voice drifted down from the vaulted ceiling. The spirit slowly descended, her pink skin, split-colored hair, and pulsing third eye materializing vividly in the dim light of the church. "I didn't think a true Man of God could sense me."

The Archdeacon stumbled back at the sight of her, his eyes nearly popping out of his head as he instinctively raised his crucifix, exclaiming, "What in Heaven's name?!  What is that specter?!"

Esmeralda gazed hesitantly and uneasily from Yubel to the priest and back.  And when Yubel nodded, the girl explained.

"Uh, well, long story short, this 'specter' is the main reason I'm still breathing right now," she recounted, gesturing weakly toward the hovering entity. "Archdeacon, meet my old childhood friend—Yubel."

The Archdeacon hesitantly lowered his crucifix slightly, his hands still trembling as he whispered in awe, "Yubel?"

The ethereal entity who had revealed itself—herself—simply nodded once in response, and on this note, the old priest suddenly felt memories of the mention of such a name resurface, his theological training rushing back to him all at once. "Wait a minute. I remember hearing of a Yubel," he murmured, staring into her piercing, dual-colored eyes. "She was identified as a personification of evil pleasure."

"You've read the legends as well, I see," Yubel concluded, her lips curling into a sharp, knowing smile as she hovered gracefully before the altar.

"Yes, I have," the Archdeacon affirmed warily, looking from the three-eyed spirit to Esmeralda and back, horror and confusion warring in his eyes. "However, the texts also say that she is a creature native to the Spirit Realm—and, her ambitions are normally driven by a twisted, agonizing affection!"  He stared at Esmeralda in shock and demanded, "Esmeralda, how can you harbor such a destructive force within your very soul?!  The Church strictly teaches—"

"'The Church' did not allow me to escape Frollo's fire unscathed," Esmeralda interrupted gently, though her voice carried a hardened edge. "Yubel did.  And right now, she is the only thing standing between Frollo and a citywide genocide."

But then, before another word could be exchanged, Yubel suddenly cut in, her third eye flashing impatiently as the heavy thuds of Frollo's troops echoed from the plaza outside. "Um, Your Excellency, I'd love to stay here and 'shoot the breeze', as you mortals tend to put it, but we've got more pressing concerns at the moment.  Is there anywhere safe that Esmeralda and I can use to train, without any interruptions?"

The Archdeacon blinked, forcing himself to look past the spirit's terrifying form and instead focus on the immediate danger threatening his sanctuary. He clutched his robes and nodded rapidly toward the rear of the altar.

"The crypts, beneath the cathedral, " he urged, pointing toward a heavy, iron-bound door half-hidden by a velvet tapestry. "The stone walls are thick enough to muffle any sound, and the entrance can be barred from the inside.  Frollo's men are sure to look in the bell towers first."

On that note, Phoebus immediately stepped forward, grabbing the iron ring of the crypt door and pulling it open to reveal a winding stone staircase leading down into the darkness. "Go, both of you," he told  Esmeralda and Yubel, scanning the vaulted ceiling as another loud boom rattled the main doors. "Quasi and I'll stay up here with the Archdeacon.  We'll secure the main entrance and buy you as much time as we can."