Ayre
My voice trembles in spite of me. “That’s enough.”
I am the first to pull away from the feeding. Before it is safe to collapse under the compounding burdens of the day adding Cerya’s injuries to my own, I ease Cerya back into the chair.
My Seed Seer’s hair cascades down around her, a number of bands having come loose during the feeding. Her stricken expression softens when she sees herself mirrored in me, at least in discomfort.
Without words, I am bidden into her embrace.
I hesitate, but only briefly.
Cerya flinches at my touch. Before I can pull away, she clings to me, sinking her own teeth into my shoulder to stifle a cry.
I reach for an apology.
But I know that the wounds are beyond the reach of physical touch or words.
“Never again.” I make a promise as I wipe Cerya’s blood from my lips. “Twelve will never be allowed to harm you. Never again.”
Cerya’s head nestles into the space between my shoulder and neck. “All I ask is that you not undertake this alone.”
I’m not sure I can promise that. There’s no telling if my siblings will outmaneuver or overpower me.
I have Astraea.
But I don’t even know what kind of numbers my siblings will bring with them. It will probably not be too many. Not with the logistics of needing to keep out from under the moonlight each night.
Still.
“Give me a while to think?” Are the words I settle on. “I need to process everything. Talk to everyone.”
“Before you leave to deal with the full moon tonight.” Is the time limit Cerya demands of me.
“I can promise that.” I say.
“Good.” Cerya says, sitting up to smooth out her hair. “I’ll prepare a bath for you in the morning. We’ll find you some fresh clothes to meet your siblings in.”
I shake my head. “I suspect I’ll have the clothes covered.” Already I am thinking of what I can get out of Amari. “But a bath sounds nice. It’s something I didn’t think I would miss at the castle. Spending as many days as I have on the road…” I allow my words to taper off as I rise to my feet.
Turning away, I am struck with a sick feeling in my stomach.
All at once the room around me becomes more and less familiar. It feels like home in that it is the only place that Cerya feels safe. But at the same time, everything within the room is arranged wrong. Something about it makes the space feel like it is no longer mine.
No. I’m still feeling the effects of feeding on Cerya. This is all her that I am resonating with.
I want to brush the thought off. This space is shared by Theriya, Snapdragon, and the girls I have brought with me. But no. They’ve done nothing to change this space.
I am left to grasp with the distinct impression that the hands that made this space unfamiliar are my own.
Cerya’s perspective is a disquieting one. I try to blink away this warped familiarity as I sway on my feet.
I find myself leaning into Cerya’s outstretched arm and Lenore’s presence resurfacing. It is like any lingering sense of loneliness is washed away, replaced by a want that I cannot name. I just… I want to be around the two of them more.
We hold each other steady, Cerya, Lenore, and I.
Our heart thrums into Cerya’s ear. And we know it pleases her before the smile tugs at her lips and spreads into her cheeks. With her head once again pressed against us in gentle concern, we are left with a clear view of the horn that parts the billowing clouds of her hair. Much like Astraea’s own horns, hers is a touch darker than the rest of her skin.
Cerya takes our hand and guides our fingers gently through her hair. When it is smoothed out, Theriya works on binding one half of it up at regular intervals while we do the other side. The muscle memory of Lenore’s hands and Cerya’s familiarity with her own hair allows us to keep pace. Despite Ayre never once needing to take care of someone’s hair, the final result is only slightly mismatched from what Cerya’s hands produce.
Our Seed Seer gathers her freshly bound hair into her arms and seems to cherish this moment.
We offer no apologies or excuses for any imperfections. We just accept that things are different now. To linger in the past would detract from what we have. There is no amount of fighting that can bring back Ayre and Lenore having their own bodies. Enough blood will be shed over protecting what we have now.
Hope for the future demands surviving what threatens us in the present. What the past offers us is an opportunity to accept that we are all in agreement.
Twelve has taken much from the three of us gathered in this room.
If Mel’Viora is anything to go by, leveraging our own pains at him will do little beyond inspiring him to ever greater cruelties.
How many dolls have we heard of Twelve discarding? Can we afford to commit to anything less than killing and replacing him? To merely best Twelve will lead to them feeding on others with no regards to their safety.
If we fail, how many more broodlings fresh from the depths will be shown senseless cruelty at Twelve’s hands?
Are Cerya, Lenore, and all who have already been harmed by our Twelfth sibling not enough? Could we not do better in Twelfth’s place? And not for the reasons Vylia expects of us, but to actually leverage our power and position into bargaining on behalf of those we care about?
It is almost enough that we can smother my doubts about how we now view the Cinder Blights.
Lenore’s presence passes, taking with it the need for more blood.
I am left feeling more whole and assured of myself. It is hard to think of my parasite as such when the clarity lingers.
Leveraging the transfer of strength, I lift Cerya into my arms and carry her to her favorite chair at the far end of the table.
She would not want to be excluded from what comes next.
It is hard not to anticipate her wants beyond what she desired for me to take away in this feeding.
I have long fretted about the kind of harm my feeding might have had on others. To see the constant withering and discarding of the blood dolls kept by most of my siblings is enough to hold them in contempt.
But to feed upon Cerya is to taste that something has always been missing. I cannot glimpse the whole of what was lost. Not when there is nothing to feed on beyond the edges of memories stained by the loss of a greater whole. Hers is an absence that affects everything around it, demanding a need for definition without substance.
For Cerya, there is nothing to feed on from that period of time.
For me, I’ve actively avoided comparisons for so long that I probably can’t be trusted to measure the differences between this body and the one I had before.
What could the three of us achieve without Twelve inserting himself into our lives?
Which leads me to the question of the hour. What am I willing to do to make it stop?
I sigh, prompting a raising of the eyebrow from Cerya.
“Snapdragon was right.” I say. “Like it or not. I’m going to need the Watchers alive.”
Which means I can’t expend or dispose of them in my fight against the Cinder Blights.
Nor can I exterminate the Cinder Blights. Not that I can even engage with that topic seriously without maps and a better understanding of recent events.
Maybe, just maybe, I can use them as a pretext to bait the Twelfth Prince into a vulnerable position.
I make for the door to find that Astraea and Fia have dutifully sent the ones with more sensitive hearing to wait outside. Amused, I offer the two of them a thankful smile.
“Fia dearest, could you fetch Cerya and I something to drink? Ask Cerya what she wants. You can pick whatever you like for me.” I offer and indulge Fia with head pats before turning to Astraea. “Tell Snapdragon to bring me any maps she has of the area that relate to conflicts with the Cinder Blight.”
We have plans to make.
And it is long overdue that I actually start to act like the Prince everyone expects of me. It is the least I can do if I am going to demand others refer to me as a Princess.
Speaking of which. I eye the bowl of fresh bandages brought to us by Astraea.
***
By the time everyone begins to arrive, Cerya has finished helping me bind my chest.
“You’re the Nineteenth Thorn.” I say, glancing at the wooden prosthetic arm of the new arrival. It is a crude thing that I suspect does not even come close to matching the function of what was lost.
“Not anymore.” He replies. “Not until I prove my worth elsewhere. Only then will they provide me with a replacement arm suited to my new role.”
Something about the logic behind that bothers me. “Do you have anything else I can call you if not Nineteen?”
“It’s just Seedling now.” He says, tight lipped.
“Well, you’ve still got perfectly good eyes. Walk me through what you see in this map.” I gesture to the map that Snapdragon has just finished unrolling onto the table.
Nineteen, I’m not interested in diminishing his worth by calling him Seedling, looks at Snapdragon for a moment before turning back to me. “I recognize these cave systems. Third marked them in our excursions. The Blighted ones must know we can’t fight effectively in those conditions. Whenever an engagement goes poorly for them, they retreat back to them at night knowing we dare not venture within.”
Unsatisfied with his explanation, I content myself with using it as a baseline for future questions. Instead I prompt him to continue with a topic change I expect him to be more familiar with. “Give me your measure of the Thorns and Howlers.” I say, in part to give me time to look over the map.
No names.
Mentions of medicinal herbs and noteworthy hazards make up the most abundant markings.
Why is everything measured in throws? I can only assume spear throws.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
My annoyance at the indicated unit of measurement must show.
Nineteen again take the time to look awkwardly at Snapdragon before giving his assessment. “I would rate us… The Thorns at least, as proficient at best. They are well drilled and motivated, but we’re just people with sharpened senses and weapons that allow us to safely skirmish.”
“And the Howlers?” I prompt.
Nineteen gives us his best impression of Second’s contempt. “They’re more zealous. It is the kind of thing that will distinguish them early or get them all killed.”
Well, he’s right about one thing.
I would not underestimate how willing at least one of the Howlers is to throw her life away in a fight she cannot win. A part of me hopes she has a Lenore or Astraea to ground her among her sisters.
Still, I’ve arrived at a frustrating conclusion. “You really are just Watchers, aren’t you? You get regular battles in, but with moon-touched animals, not enemies of Lunaria or Vylia.” I regret the direction I take this conversation almost immediately.
Cerya stiffens at my words. It comes as a relief that I seem to have Nineteen's attention.
I’m still absorbing her desire to protect these things. Calling them Cinder Blights tastes as wrong in my mouth as calling Lenore a parasite.
But the answer Nineteen gives is worth it. “The Howlers have participated as an auxiliary skirmishing force in the last campaign.”
Snapdragon is quick to supply her side of things. “Thorns got stuck with extended wall duty.”
Still. It is frustrating knowing that I am not working with regulars of any kind. It means I won't be able to rely on them as much as I would like.
Astraea clears her throat. “Wars are rarely fought with an abundance of truly experienced combatants. Even when ships are not involved, a lot of large scale conflict tends to boil down to logistics of managing a lot of people and leveraging advantages.”
Reductive, but I don’t exactly have experience I can leverage to contest her point. “Bolt throwers and spears.”
“Javelins, usually.” Nineteen says, interrupting. “Sorry.”
“I’m not familiar with the distinction.” I say, admitting while welcoming him to continuing.
“They’re lighter. Meant for throwing.” Snapdragon offers.
“She has the right of it.” Nineteen confirms. “Javelins have the option of poisoning the tips for causing targets that are likely to flee to be worn down or succumb to attrition."
Good to know. I always need to be wary of poisons with how much I rely on my blood.
Nineteen continues his explanation. "Bolt Throwers are clumsy, but they allow us to engage larger or tougher targets than we could otherwise engage.”
Right. Of course.
If anything, the closest comparison I can make are to village militias that are permitted to form in more dangerous Vylian territories. My siblings would have me believe that the risk of easily stamped out rebellions is usually worth the reprieve of having to allocate their own forces.
Fia interrupts my musings to hand me something to drink with visible petals and what look like seeds giving the brew a fragrant scent.
I welcome the distraction, quickly finding that the taste is bittersweet.
I follow Fia with my gaze as she serves Cerya something orange with what appears to be floating shavings of ice. Before I can ask the purpose of the ice, she quickly contents herself with pressing her hands against the cool exterior of the glass.
Her audible contented sigh is all I need to hear.
I turn my gaze to Astraea. “It sounds to me that what few Watchers I will be able to rely upon will be acting largely in a supportive role. Are you comfortable with you and I drawing the attention of the bulk of what comes?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Astraea says, her voice confident and unworried. “Unfortunately, I had an opportunity to inspect the walls while they were being repaired. They are not made in a way that allows much room for us to fight in close quarters.”
Immediately I find myself clenching my fists.
That would be a glaringly obvious flaw in how I intended to handle as much of this that I could by myself.
I already agreed to not let a single creature through.
How much did Mel'Viora know about how this kind of scenario is less than ideal for me?
“Allow me to walk you through it.” Snapdragon gestures to lines that mark the walls at regular intervals on the map. “Once the moon rises, we operate largely by using a system of slits with adjustable openings that allow us to angle shots without risking exposure to the moon.”
“How big are these slits?” I ask.
Nineteen gives me a rough visual of the dimensions with his hand and prosthetic. I frown, realizing I can't even count on being able to reach out and take swipes at anything with any real force behind the blow.
I could probably throw Javelins, but I’d need time to practice with a Bolt Thrower. That can’t come at the expense of resting and recovering that I am overdue for.
And if I don’t give myself a break, something is going to give. I can’t allow that.
It is not until I look up that I find Astraea unbothered by anything that has been brought up. Her words speak of an easy and dutiful confidence. “Say the word and I’ll remain outside the wall until the moon falls. You’ll need to subdue me afterwards, but I trust you’ll think of something.”
Little side conversations about food and drink come to a halt.
“Astraea. Absolutely not.” I reply, voice hard in an attempt to drown out the disbelief expressed by Snapdragon and Nineteen. “If we’re locking anyone outside, it’s me. I can feed and recover mid-fight.”
“You can’t.” Cerya’s voice is quiet.
We all turn to face her.
I reply with a frustrated sigh. “I’m not content with letting her take on all the risk.”
Cerya furrows her brow. “No. I mean you physically can’t. Cinder Blight corpses are dead. There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to feed on them.”
That demands a reassessment on my part. Baiting my siblings out to hunt them is growing in risk. But not just for me.
Meanwhile everyone else around me looks convinced.
“Besides.” Cerya shrinks away from all the attention, her voice falling to a barely audible whisper. “You’re the only one here with an idea of what everyone can bring to the table. If something happens to you…” There is a pause that Cerya tries to push through. “Our ability to coordinate will drastically decrease.”
“The Seed Seer is right.” Amari chimes in with what I know to be approval in her expression. “Allow your protectors to bear the brunt of risk. Lady Wyrmsbane is more than capable of defending herself. The two of you seduced by the moon into fighting each other would be a terrible waste.”
Snapdragon offers me a sympathetic look. “It might actually be best if you stay on standby to venture outside the wall only if Astraea is in trouble.”
A number of audible disagreements are silenced by Snapdragon slamming a fist down onto the table. Fia’s whine is the main one I make a mental note of.
“Think about it!” Snapdragon continues. “Astraea can cover herself in armor you can’t bite through. If she grows weary after a number of hours, you can throw on a cloak and hope you can subdue or save her before the Moon takes you.”
I shake my head, growling in irritation at being made to save my own protector when I should be fighting alongside her. “You’re probably right, but only if things go that badly.” I attempt to dismiss my frustrations with a sigh. “But I can’t think of anything better. Astraea, the field is yours. Snapdragon, Nineteen, make sure I’m well supplied with spears.”
Snapdragon tightens her lips at my choice of name.
Luckily, Nineteen seems oblivious to my slip. His concern seems to be focused on the order I just gave.
“Just the Javelins or…” Nineteen attempts to clarify.
“The Thorns carried longer spears when I first arrived. Bring both. I might need the extra weight if I need to hurt something that meaningfully threatens Astraea.” I crack a wide fanged smile. “Besides. I’m stronger than you.”
Nineteen holds up his hand in a placating gesture. “I’m not willing to contest that long enough to find out. You’ll get your spears and javelins.”
This time I turn to Snapdragon. “Which brings me to my next point. What are my options for just driving the Cinder Blights off?”
Snapdragon confirms what I expect. “The same measures everyone else uses.”
Fia raises her hand.
“You can speak freely here.” I say, giving her the go ahead.
Fia offers us all a bow in thanks for being given permission to speak. “I just wanted to admit that I don’t get allowed out of the castle much. What measures do people use for warding off moon-touched when they can’t hide their sleeping place?”
Snapdragon blinks away surprise at what in her eyes must be the most basic of questions. She tenses up, before forcing herself to take a deep breath. “Thank you for asking, Snapdragon.” She pushes through before Fia can express confusion at the choice of name.
Thankfully, being in constant danger of reprisals in Vylian courts has demanded my dolls and I learn how to communicate a need to play along when needed. I touch my hair to draw Fia’s attention, brushing it over my shoulder to signal dismissing the cause for confusion.
Fia only spares me a sidelong glance before making her nod of understanding something that has Snapdragon’s undivided attention.
It takes Snapdragon a moment, but she manages to gather herself enough to launch into an explanation. “As you might imagine with how prevalent the moon rising every night is. Most people and animals have developed deep seated fear responses at seeing the moon so much as be depicted. This is often reliable enough to temporarily drown out most of the subtle bloodlust the moon tries to inspire. The most prevalent methods people rely upon is to reflect the moon at any approaching dangers through the use of mirrors or standing water.”
Fia nods her understanding, once again bowing to signal her departure from the conversation. “Many thanks kind Watcher lady!”
Snapdragon smiles. “Happy to help.”
Nineteen looks impatient.
I gesture for him to speak.
“But we’re trying to quell their numbers, not drive them off and encourage them to spread!” He says, expressing dissent.
“I am aware.” I say. “Get me a supply of mirrors if you do not keep them on hand at the walls already.”
“It will be done.” Snapdragon says with a pleased smile.
Nineteen shifts uncomfortably. It is not until they ball their hands into fists that I decide it is worth addressing his concerns.
“Nineteen.” I say, again using his old number as a Thorn. “Cinder Blights have the advantage of rapidly replenishing their losses through further infections. Compared to the time it takes for Lunarians to sprout from the ground, craft weapons, train, and approach combat readiness, I am going to forever be at a number disadvantage. As such, minimizing casualties must be my primary concern.”
Nineteen goes rigid for longer than I am comfortable. But before I can elaborate further, he nods along like a good little Seedling.
I dial back the aggressiveness of my tone. I want to frame what comes next in a way that he will accept. “If you can be my eyes and ears while holding a spear, even at a reduced effectiveness you remain a valuable asset in my eyes. Besides, you’re already trained to fight alongside your fellow Thorns and it will be they who are supporting me tonight. I’m not calling you Seedling. Not if numbers are what you are drilled to use.”
That Nineteen has relaxed and almost looks grateful tells me that I’ve read them well enough.
I don’t even need to acknowledge the look of approval that Amari gives me.
“Actually.” Nineteen turns to address Snapdragon. “You might want to get started on this now. The mirrors were moved into storage recently at the Howling Watchers’ request.
“If you’ll excuse us.” Snapdragon says, accepting my permissive gesture. She waves Nineteen to the door while stopping to offer Fia a more explicit invitation. “Do you mind helping him and I with the spears and mirrors?”
Right. This whole matter of hiding Snapdragon’s name is getting Fia roped into this.
I give Fia an appreciative smile when she turns to me for guidance.
Fia takes my approval and makes this simple task a calling of hers. “If it is to ensure my master is not wanting for spears with which to skewer their prey, I will volunteer to find the pointiest!”
It is long after the door has closed behind us that Amari deems it safe to approach my side. “I hope you are not intending to drive the Cinder Blights in the direction of the arriving carriage.”
I shake my head. “It wouldn’t matter. Not with as few as two of my siblings on that carriage. No, there’s nothing I can do to stop them from arriving. I just suspect that it would do well to have the favor of a group of Watchers who think I have their survival in mind.”
I know I’ve struggled with how I felt about them initially. But showing that I care where it counts will be a point in my favor when my siblings more nakedly make threats and offers at the Watchers’ expense.
“You have something else in mind.” Amari says, a smile spreading as she muses on my thoughts.
“These caves.” I point to them before looking up at Cerya. My voice falls to a whisper, just in case. “Nineteen said they retreated to them on account of the environment favoring them. Is there any chance that the Cinders might call one in particular home? Failing that, were any gemstones initially unearthed in any of these cave systems?”
I get another one of those sad smiles from Cerya.
She only nods.
“Okay.” I back away from the table. “That’s all I need to know for now.” Side eyeing Amari, I show her a wicked grin. “There is a Vylian tradition of making a competition of hunting dangerous creatures.”
The eyes of Fia and Amari alight with interest.
Astraea on the other hand crosses her arms.
“I’ve never participated in anything like this.” I say in admission. “And I don’t know what my siblings have in store. But if they want me alone, I want you all to prepare yourselves for me agreeing to this if not outright floating the idea myself.”
Astraea’s voice is cold and emotionless. “No. Absolutely not.”
“It would be my favored environment.” I offer.
“No. If anything your siblings would be more experienced.” At least Astraea spells it out for everyone. “This is too dangerous.”
It’s my turn to drain the emotion from my voice. I need to make it clear that I am deadly serious about this. “Not if I can use the Watchers impress upon the Cinder Blights that I know where they live and I am going straight for the throat. The Watchers and Cinder Blights have just been skirmishing lately, right?”
Cerya gives me a wiggle of the hand that signals not entirely agreeing. “Snapdragon could probably give you details, but you are more or less correct. We have been mostly threatening each other’s supplies. Driving off animals that they can use while they cut off any trade we try to do with local groves. And of course, you already know about the Moon Wrought Implement shipments.”
“Still, I appreciate the added insight.” I say, offering Cerya as appreciative of a smile as I offered Fia.”
That the Cinder Blights have in their possession Moon Wrought implements and stones certainly complicates things, both for tonight and any future encounter that follows. I’m not entirely sure if the corpses they puppet can use the implements, but just embedding Moon Wrought gemstones into a corpse will make them dangerous.
I have to assume they can use them to devastating effect. The attacks on the shipments have been too regular.
“Speaking of which.” Cerya offers me my gemstones back. She even has the bundle of implements and a half filled tourmaline that Snapdragon must have made time to restore to the best of her ability. “The Tourmaline cannot be filled until its crack is repaired. But it remains safe to use. It is my hope that these will allow you to prevail where your strength might otherwise fail you.”
“Thank you.” I say, accepting the weight of the three stones as the emotions contained within fall into my possession. “For all you have done and all that you have given me.”
A flicker of mischief twists at Cerya’s smile. “Of course. I would do it again and more. For you, my Princess.”
Right, Cerya overheard.
I find that my cheeks grow warm when it is her saying it.
“Is it alright if I call you that?” Cerya says, not taking my reaction for permission.
“It is… Much preferred, actually.” I say in confirmation.
Even if Amari has given me reason to doubt the gemstones given to me by my Seed Seers, it is hard to let it show. Amari has given me reason to reexamine who I am and what I want.
“Princess Ayre, Would you like to accompany me upstairs?” Cerya offers me her hand.
I take it willingly. “I’m starting to suspect that I would follow you anywhere, Seer Cerya.” Something tells me that it is not weariness from our feeding that causes her to lean against my arm as we walk.
She does however turn to the rest of my gathering of girls. “If you could all be so kind as to give us some time alone, I would appreciate it. I need to make sure that Ayre…”
For a moment, I swear that I catch Cerya nibbling at her lip.
“...Gets the rest that they need.” She finishes.