Cornelius

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"Darkness lingers in each and every heart. Our everlasting burden is to keep it at bay instead of giving in and allowing it to take over."

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About Cornelius

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Cornelius is an ancient wizard trapped in a mirror that stands in Gabriel's hideout.

He is now bound to Gabriel and has to follows the male witch's orders. He can only interact with objects and people that reflect in his mirror.

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“What the fuck?” the young vampire yelped. She pointed at Cornelius in the mirror and asked: “who the fuck are you?” When Cornelius completely ignored her, she turned to Gabriel and demanded: “Who the fuck is he and where did he come from? AND WHY DO I ONLY SEE HIM IN THE MIRROR?”
Gabriel raised a sardonic eyebrow at the girl and said: “Well, I can't see your reflection in the mirror, so it shouldn't be that weird to you."
“But that's different! I am a vampire! We're not supposed to have reflections, at least not in mirrors this old!” said the vampire. “This is fucking tripping me out.”
Gabriel sighed tiredly and smiled slightly, glancing occasionally at Cornelius, who was still silent “Let's just say he's like a reverse vampire and leave it at that, we have more important things to discuss, non?”

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THE PROLOGUE
A thousand years ago, Cornelius was killed, slain by a Warden of the High Council that ruled over Ministry of Magic. For a thousand years, he'd dreamed of nothing but revenge; revenge against the Wardens, revenge against the High Council, revenge against Germain.
As the years passed, the singular thought dominated him. When his mind was his own, which wasn't often, he imagined his knife in the belly of a Warden, his hands around the throat of a wool-robed Councilman. He could imagine the jerking, spasming body of Germain under his hands as he pulled the man's soul from its body.
Inch by inch, bit by bit, he would make it last.
After a hundred years in the mirror that was locked away in the dark, he'd forgotten the feel of cool, wet Earth. After two, the feel of cloth. After five, skin. But as he neared the millennial mark, he could still recall the hard, wet force of Warden's sword cutting into him, the still-warm blood gushing from his chest on his hands as he desperately tried to hold it inside his body. Every time he opened his eyes, that were met with darkness still, the horrible feeling of something thick and oozing coating his hands remained.

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Then something unexpected happened. He saw the light. But the joy he felt was shortlived as it turned out, he was entrapped once again, differently this time, in a mistress-slave relationship. His "rescuer's" name was Minevra. He thought he was cruel in his lifetime, but Minevra's heart was even darker than the black he lived in for the past thousand of years. His new mistress treated him horribly and all the abuse blurred and condensed into one single focal point of hatred. In life, the proud Cornelius would have never tolerated any individual assuming to be his better. Now, he had no choice; Minevra was his lord, a woman with more power, woman with more substance, a woman with freedom, that Cornelius no longer had, and a will to order him around however she wanted. He fought it, in the beginning, his pride forcing him to stand tall even when the new owner of the mirror brought horrible pain down on him for his disobedience. Eventually, he learned -- learned to bow and agree, compliment and obey, to give every appearance of the loyal servant, while in his mind he raged and looked toward the day he would be free. Now, in his dreams, his hands not only found their way around Warden's necks, but Minevra's. Each, in their turn, took their place under his fingers or at the end of his knife. Wizards and witches had long lifespans, if they wanted to keep them as such, but, to Cornelius' pleasure, Minevra was swaying heavily toward the Black. And, speaking from experience, those that did so, tended to find their ends quickly and messily. He would rejoice in her death as if he had done the deed himself. It was some of the only pleasure he could count during his imprisonment. After six hundred of years Minevra started to look for a successor. Maybe she knew that her end, sooner or later, will come, and instead of a successor she was looking for a new vessel for herself and her terrifying power? She couldn't have children on her own, even if she tried. That was the unspoken punishment for dipping one's fingers in forbidden magic. She started gathering children with any magical power inside them instead, kidnapping them from their parents and forcing them to forget about their useless, weak families. Some of their human emotions were unecessary so she got rid of them, too. Well, at least she wanted to. Both emotions and memories were still buried in her new proteges, just locked away, deeply inside their minds where they would not be able to find them again. Those that disappointed her, were beaten harshly and if the disappointment continued, they were devoured, their magic absorbed by Minevra's body. Those that showed potential were lucky to survive under her strict eye.

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During the tenure of his vicious and ambitious mistress, Cornelius was introduced to Gabriel. The young child was like many others he had been commanded to share his knowledge with over the centuries: small, unfocused, and without purpose. Minevra had a purpose for him, if he grew to be powerful, Cornelius knew, but the boy had no knowledge of that. The witch had assigned Cornelius as the boy's tutor, to introduce him to magic, to guide the budding Gift to suit Minevra's own plans. He was to teach Gabriel the darker aspects of magic, the forbidden and the arcane. The boy's patroness hadn't been precise in her wording, however. Though Cornelius was no djinn, he could make mischief for those who were fool enough to leave doorways to the potential that was the boy's Gift.

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It began as simple detours: once the basics had been dealt with, the lessons focused more heavily on show than substance. And under that, he was teaching Gabriel how to harm, fight with, and eventually kill witches and other magical beings. Gabriel took to such things with surprising enthusiasm and Minevra, easily impressed with the theatrical front the boy was able to present, halted punishing him for disobedience, and was more than willing to accept any show of improvement as an advancement toward her own goal. Little by little, Cornelius skewed the intent of his master. The boy would not follow the path Minevra had laid out for him. At least not strictly. Instead, Gabriel was shown how to counter the sinister magics of his female caretaker. Cornelius had served Minevra for a really long time now. He knew Minevra's spells - he had even written many of them, himself. And, as time passed, and Gabriel's proficiency in magic and witchcraft improved, Cornelius could see the hands around Minevra's throat changing; it was no longer the wizard's long fingers that pressed the life from his mistress' neck each night. Perhaps Cornelius would never feel Minevra's slowing pulse along his own palms, but the boy would, someday, he knew, bring him some of the greatest joy of his existence.

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Despite Gabriel's innate talent and enthusiasm for some aspects of magic and witchcraft, teaching him workable spells and convincing the boy to practice anything to perfection would have tried the patience of a saint. In life, Cornelius had a hair trigger. A thousand years of darkness and few hundreds of servitude had taught him to control the reaction, but had done little to quell the impulse. There were days he wished to vent his anger on a nearby chair or beaker, but he didn't want to scare the child away. Blessedly, Gabriel seemed to sense the wizard's agitation and would make what corrections he could. Gabriel, unlike Minevra, not only acknowledged his emotions, but genuinely seemed to care about how Cornelius felt. The wizard chalked it up to his lack of experience with the magical world. In a few years, he reasoned, the boy would more fully understand the nature of dark wizards, especially Cornelius', and would care as little for his feelings as one does for a life of a housefly. But as the years passed, Gabriel's consideration for Cornelius didn't abate and, completely to the wizard's surprise, he began to feel himself concerned for Gabriel's wellbeing, as well, especially when the boy did something wrong and was being cruelly punished by Minevra again. He almost felt like stroking the boy's head gently and bring him any kind of comfort he could. He bit the insides of his cheek at the thought, though. There was no room for kindness in revenge. Especially not Cornelius' revenge since when the wizard would finally be free of his shackles, he would also bring death to Gabriel, because the boy, himself, begun to slowly turn into a powerful and dangerous individual.

Relationship with Gabriel

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Their relationship is a strange one. Gabriel should be Cornelius' master and Cornelius should be his slave but they treat each other more like... like what exactly? They both don't know yet. At least not Gabriel. Even though this "friendship" started with hate and desperation coming from Cornelius, it slowly turned into obsession toward Gabriel.

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“All I have ever loved has been taken from me because I haven’t been strong enough to hold onto it. You must be stronger than everyone else in order to keep what is yours. If you want something, you must be ready to fight to the death for it – and to scare it into never disobeying you,” Cornelius explained. “To disobey is to fall victim to so many dangers. You must keep your loved ones close so you can protect them from harm. You must always know where they are, and not allow them to stray. When they are older, or bolder, sometimes you must hurt them to keep them safe,”.

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02.07.1832
Though he's yet to decide whether to hate the man or be proud of him for what he did to Minevra - which exceeded his deepest expectations, and to his long-desired freedom - which he almost tasted but which was taken from him, yet again, by the male witch this time, from an aesthetic standpoint Gabriel Lefebre-Vieux is truly an excellent company. Beauty doesn't affect Cornelius nearly as much as it once did, but he isn't entirely immune.
Gabriel is such a lovely creature on the outside, especially with his huge eyes wide and blue with want, his wet lips flushed red and swollen from the rasp of Cornelius' teeth, his once-pristined clothes now a rumpled wreck. Looking at Gabriel is quite the enjoyable pasttime.
Gabriel says, "Je ne regrette pas ce que j'ai fait," and holds his head higher.
"Of course you don't." Cornelius chuckles. "And I bet you still think yourself a decent man. You never cease to amuse me, Gabriel." Then, for the fun of riling him, he adds, "And you never cease to remind me of me."
Gabriel chuckles, "I should take it as compliment, since it comes from a cruel being such as yourself," he states. "I have to disappoint you, though, I-"
Before Gabriel has the chance to finish, Cornelius grabs him by the collar and yanks him even closer. "It was meant to be a compliment and I'm glad you noticed," he says, against Gabriel's lips. "I know deep inside, you want to let it all go, just like I did in the past, you want to stop caring about all of these people and their pesky emotions and submit yourself to ultimate power. You can admit it. Honesty is an important part of any relationship—especially one that's going to last as long as ours."
He crushes their mouths together, swallowing Gabriel's beautiful, beautiful moan. Teeth clash, scrape painfully against delicate lips, the kiss more battle than anything else, fueled by lust and hatred more than affection.
So much passion in youth, he thinks, as Gabriel clings to him, kisses like his life depends on it, attacks with the full brunt of his impressive experience. Cornelius gives as good as he gets, consumed by the burn of arousal deep in his gut, unwilling to be the one who lets go, the one who retreats.
Gabriel breaks away, chest heaving, breaths harsh and loud. Cornelius' throbbing lips curl into a smile.
"We both know how your quest for ultimate power ended, Cornelius", Gabriel rasps and points at the mirror, "I don't intend to end like you". Cornelius' smile fades.

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“Why would you fight it?” Cornelius whispered to him. “I’ve lived thousands of years, but I haven’t been alive for a long time—until now. You understand. You’ve been slipping away too, you know how much better it is when we’re together. It’s you and me for the rest of our time, Gabriel, however long that may be. You’ll never be alone like I was. I won't let it happen.”

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Emrys was a force to be reckoned with on a bad day. If what Abyss said is true, that Emrys' aura is blazing with power, then, at best, they were all fucked, and not in the fun way. At worst… Cornelius shuddered. Best not to think about it. Instead, he focused on figuring out how to get them all out of this mess, no matter how dubious their options may have been or how low their odds of survival were.
He had to do something. Unfortunately, the wicked woman had stolen Cornelius' mirror from Gabriel's hideout earlier this week and it was now completely covered in black material, sitting in the room with Emrys and Gabriel, leaving Cornelius unable to do anything about the current situation except listen to the conversation between the other two.
'Fuck. If only Gabriel had been able to remove the cloth from the mirror.', Cornelius thought while pacing angrily in the total darkness.
“...done already? I thought we could dance all night.”, Gabriel said, which now really irritated Cornelius.
“Gabriel..” he groaned in frustration. 'I wish he would stop antagonizing the enemy' the wizard mumbled bitterly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
If Emrys made good on her threat to turn Gabriel into one of her hounds, Cornelius didn’t know what he’d do, but he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.
And, worse, if Emrys killed Gabriel while Cornelius just sat by and watched, he... well.. He’d never forgive himself, to be perfectly honest, which was more than a little concerning, considering that, for millennia, Cornelius had maintained that free will, and the concept of forgiveness along with it, were utter bullshit; it was all just a web of lies invented by mortals to try to assuage the ridiculous amount of guilt they seemed to carry around.

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He came up with a plan. The one snag in the plan was that, in order to execute it, Cornelius would have to leave the mirror. Not knowing what would happen if his ridiculous idea actually worked wasn’t enough to stop him, it never had been, but risking the safety of his mirror, the guarantee of somewhere safe to hide from the world, that was another matter entirely. Leaving his mirror without permission was not only theoretically impossible, but was grounds for breaking the contract that made Cornelius’ mirror the safe haven that it was.

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Cornelius suddenly heard Gabriel screaming in pain from somewhere behind the fabric that still covered the mirror. That was when he started to really panic. Not worry, not fret, but flat-out panic.
Panicking about anything other than his own potentially imminent demise was wholly new to Cornelius. Panic over the safety of others, in particular, was something he’d never experienced before, and Cornelius really wished it would fuck off right back from whence it came. How mortals lived like this was genuinely a mystery to him, because this? This was the worst. It had never popped up at any point during the millennia he’d lived before then, so why now? Why Gabriel in particular?
Cornelius had never cared about what happened to Minevra or any of her subjects that he was taking care of before. It just wasn’t the way he was wired, not really. Hell, some of the children he’d been glad to see go, but that was because they were little egotistical assholes on a power trip, not because of any pesky moral foibles.

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Gabriel was a mess of contradictory rules that confused Cornelius to no end. If Cornelius’ suspicions were anywhere close to accurate, Gabriel was a powder keg of epic proportions. Whether Gabriel knew it or not, he wasn’t just Cornelius' another master. No, Gabriel was way more. He was such a force of whatever the hell Gabriel was that, just by sheer proximity, the fundamental definition and nature of Cornelius’ being, had changed enough that he was no longer the standard being of intellect he had once been. No, Gabriel was now a part of his life and had a much greater influence on Cornelius's emotions than he would have liked. To add insult to injury, the witch’s moral compass was proving very contagious.

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Cornelius, though he would never admit it to anyone, least of all himself, had much the same feelings about Gabriel, as a feral cat who’s being pet and firmly denying any enjoyment of said petting, hissing and carrying on about the situation despite purring like a motor the whole time.