Aelinore
Out of everything we’ve disagreed on since our mother appeared before us, that my component selves are in agreement about a new name comes as a welcome surprise.
Maintaining enough composure and hatred to confront our own mother shouldn’t be this difficult. And yet… Maybe it is time we limit the damage.
“Snapdragon. If you can hear me, and still stand. Could you help Fia out of the room?”
Before we hear a reply, the weight of pressure and pain that accompanies every confrontation with the Castellan… Lifts like it was never there.
Oh.
So that’s a thing the Castellan can always just turn off, but only now chosen to do.
And here we rationalized away that we must have been born capable of withstanding how reality is always threatening to collapse around our mother. We’re not sure whether to be furious or grateful.
A running theme, that.
Fia is able to struggle to her feet. She wears an expression as thankful as it is fearful as Snapdragon enters the room without a word to guide her by the arm until they are both out of the space.
No sooner than they both finish departing, the weight of the Castellan’s attention collapses upon us with a crushing intensity.
How do we face our mother? The weight of her presence and attention alone is enough of a pressure to cause physical pain in all who have the misfortune of meeting her.
For us it is a familiar pain. Our mother is not some faceless god thing who wishes to divide us into two.
She created us.
Protected us, even.
It was she who carved out cavernous depths beneath her domain in which all her children would have a favorable hunting ground.
For that if nothing else, we want to hate her.
But when we isolated ourselves from the rest of our family, it was only by earning her favor that we were granted protection.
She clothed us, fed us blood and food both, even going so far as to comfort each and every one of her spawn after their first kill.
And then she sat by and watched most of us die. The explicit demand has always been to fight to justify our very existence. Beyond surviving the depths of childhood, she encouraged lethal infighting between even her oldest and most favored children. All for what?
She rises from her throne. The realization that we have provoked something old and powerful is enough to set off well honed fight or flight instincts.
The pace of our breaths and heartbeats intensifies, but we still our form as the weight of her attention finally gives way to words. “You would give up your place as Fourteenth? As my child?”
Try as we might, it is difficult to deny how important it has felt to us that the Castellan has until now spoken as if she is willing to accommodate us. We’ll need to tread carefully despite leading with an immediate shake of the head.
“We did not shrug off another Goddess’s advances to burn every bridge available to us.” Despite remaining firm in our stance, we are willing to concede on a singular point. We’ll just have to frame it in the proper context. “In time, we’re fairly certain that my Seed Seers will come to see and accept the whole of what you have made us. Until then, you remain ever our mother in our eyes. As of now, only you are capable of understanding the depths of what and why we exist as we are. We wish only to avoid causing division amongst our siblings by standing apart.”
That her expression does not at any point show maliciousness or offense is a good start. Seeing her instead sigh wistfully… Leaves us uncertain.
“I had hoped that others would take after you, but I can see now that you ask now not as an aspiring conqueror.” Her scrutiny intensifies. “Had Mel’Viora not just finished singing your praises, I would have half a mind to strip you of all the gifts I have bestowed upon you.” And just like that, the intensity of her words and violent manifestation of her smothering presence begins to subside. “Alas, to do so would rob you of the quality I most hold dear. A tender heart is most difficult to foster when the wider world would see us all dead for what we are, irregardless of what we have done.”
We cross our arms over our chest in disbelief. “A tender loving heart? After everything I’ve been through, that is what you see in me?”
“Most harden their hearts long before leaving the depths of their proving and the dead of their brood behind. Not an hour free from the Depths and you’ve fed upon one of the most important lessons I have to teach. Already you nurture your sister within you. That you would claim a name reflective of both of you joined as one tells me that you are already listening to the instincts of my gift. But most curiously, you spurn the rest of your siblings.” Her growing amusement is accompanied by frost beginning to settle in on the room around us. “Very few of mine have willingly fed upon another of our kind. Fewer still cherish the experience.”
Our hand clutches at our heart in something resembling a salute. “We didn’t ask for this.”
“Oh? I very vividly remember my Twelfth child recounting how Lenore asked you.”
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What about the part where he cut me in half at the waist? Did he recount that too?
We don’t want to be having this conversation. Just above the cut of our dress, our clawed hand grazes at flesh. “We ask for little more than we ever would as Fourteenth. Bar my siblings from harming me in mine. In a lasting capacity.” Shaking under the weight of our mother’s attention, we settle for falling to one knee. “Open up the seat of Fourteenth in your court to whomever is most deserving if you must. Just… Free us of this wretched role and we will delight in being one of your monsters that the rest of the world fears.”
We’ve no allusions about that at least.
The Castellan approaches.
Just when I fear she is about to step out from the mirror, she comes to an abrupt halt.
Were it not for constantly having to remind ourselves that a multiple day long carriage ride separates us, her proximity in the mirror would suggest she is within arm’s reach.
“Of all things, you would appeal to a hope that I could accept anything less than your absolute loyalty?” My mother's frost blue lips split her skull in amusement. "You're suggesting there is a world where I accept anything less than a child of mine being willing to kill and replace me if needed!" Her cold eyes shrink into pointed pinpricks amidst widening black sclera. "Child of mine, I thought I abused such notions out of you. Why settle for anything less than what you yourself can guarantee?”
We turn the question back upon her. “Why arrange for us to be bound to a pair of Seers well equipped to show us understanding and love if not to arm us with better reasons to kill you and all the world? We ask you, dear mother, out of familial courtesy towards the only other family member we respect.”
Some primal urge tugs at the back of our mind. This body’s changes are continuing to take shape. We flex our jaw, feeling something break and reknit into place. The warning growl the follows is an expression of bestial pleasure. “The way we see it, there are only guarantees available to us if we leave without a trace or as a friend. And if you or others can scry upon us with a mere thought, you must understand that you’re limiting our options. Must you really demand we act in accordance to demanding senseless violence between us?”
The Castellan inclines her head. For the first time in this conversation, she is leveraging her height to look down upon us. “If the alternative is seeing another child of mine hollowed out and bent into a shape that appeals to the whims of this world’s wretched gods? Yes.”
No more kneeling. We rise, claws clenched and fangs bared in anger. “Then you would do the work of those you despise for them!”
She remains unmoved as her smile vanishes. “You forget your place, child.”
“No!” We roar the word aloud with an intensity that causes our lungs to burn and the mirror to shake. “If you would really prefer us capable of killing our own mother so that none could threaten us, you’re no mother of ours!”
We close the distance between us, intending to smash the mirror to pieces. “And we had really hoped that some part of you cared.”
She extends a hand of her own, quicker than words.
Our hands meet.
A bone deep chill lances up the length of our arm as her fingers lock around our clenched fist. We’re left to shiver under her visible displeasure as the frigid reality that she can reach us begins to set in.
“Aelinore.” Her voice drinks in the sound of our name before taking on a rare motherly tone. “I have lived long enough to regret everything I have ever done. Never have I been blind to the look in the eyes of those who hope that this time, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, something will finally turn out for the better. I saw it in the protector you claimed as your own and in the merchant who offered to spirit you away with haste. But never you. To see it now in you is… A disappointment.”
We feel… Helpless.
“Why tell us all of this?”
Her voice softens to match our own. “Because I need you to do better with the circumstances afforded to me. Which will in turn fall upon you the moment you escape the reach of my domain and the protection it affords you.”
Our reaction is as immediate as it is indignant. “How are you supposed to know when any of your children have surpassed you if you yourself cannot hope that things can be better?” Our voice cracks under the weight of what must be said, leaving only Ayre’s voice to push through. “You’ve not made any of us stronger. We are weaker for what you’ve done to us. All of us! Even if we managed to eclipse you, our strength would be made frail by what your victory cost us.”
“You cannot tell me that prying the mantle of Divinity from the Goddess of Life itself has been for nothing.” Her grip tightens. “We are more than the monsters they see us as.”
We shrug our shoulders, coming away with the distinct impression that we were just spoken over in favor of something we know very little about. “Are we? We won’t claim to know the bigger picture, but we were under the impression that those gifts of life just shifted the pain onto stones as alive and maligned as we are.”
“How would you…”
We interrupt her, cutting to the point. “Mom! You could have taught us! Better yet, you could admit you don’t know and that you’re just in as much pain as the rest of us.”
“And just trust that none in our number would not betray us? Sabotaging whatever end we hope to achieve?”
“Then we fail. Another regret on the pile.”
“You’ve…” Her grip on our hand relaxes. “Not seen the world beyond our borders. How it cracks and fractures.”
We take a sharp breath as we avert our gaze. “It’s fractured here too. You’ve just stopped caring to see the ones who fail.”
Our mother, and she remains our mother in spite of her flaws, just… Stops. Long moments pass in silence as she strangles any continuation of the argument between us. “Okay.”
We offer her a hopeful smile, still unsure if we’re feeling up to meeting her gaze.. “We don’t want to hurt you. That goes the same for anyone you love. Depths, we know we shouldn’t but we care about you too. If our time here has taught us anything, it is that someone has to accept us for all our faults.” At that, we lift our head to find our mother matching our smile.
On her, it extends well beyond the limits of her flesh as we know it. We liken it to a manifestation of Astraea’s goddess. “I regret that I would hold quite the grudge if you found it within you to break Mel’Viora.”
“Even if she deserves it?”
“Yes. Especially because she deserves it.” Her amusement returns. “What is this? Does having my favor mean you think you can threaten those who are mine to shape?”
We are briefly horrified by the laugh that erupts from our vile and wicked mother.
But she lets my hand go. “Very well. By the time your binding ceremony concludes, Fell Seer shall join your growing list of titles. Although I suspect the title will mean very little when none save Mel’Viora shall remain alive to outrank you. She and I will come to an understanding.”
Unsure how to respond to all of that, words just seem to fall from our lips. “Are you giving us everything we want?”
Our mother inclines her head, this time in a nod. “For all intents and purposes, I do believe I have an alliance with Lunaria to maintain. And in the interest of maintaining it, none of Vylia are to harm you and yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I must keep Mel’Viora apprised of a change in plans.”
With a snap of her fingers, our mother disappears.
We’re left with a ringing in our ears and faced with a reflection that reveals our jaw has expanded to accommodate the growth of larger and more teeth.
That, and our Mother might have just revealed an intent to kill the vast majority of Lunaria’s Seers. We’re not sure whether we regret the part we played in influencing her decision.
A Fell Wyrm in the image of our mother, indeed.