Ayre

“Good. It sounds to me that you’re doing wonderful.” Astraea’s praise does much for my mood.

“Mmm.” I find myself nibbling on my lip as a hunger for blood and the essence of another joins mundane feelings of weariness.

But it feels too early to feed on my dolls. Everyone still needs to be properly introduced.

This is going to be one of those incredibly uncomfortable nights where I’m supposed to feel better about the progress I’ve made after the fact, isn’t it?

My fellow monster draws close, coaxing my dolls to pull away. Astraea, my sworn blade and protector approaches me now with a proud demeanor.

She is the only outsider to have responded to my hunger for blood with sympathy and an understanding that she should not have.

How do I even approach understanding Astraea? Possibly Snapdragon too, for that matter.

I discard the thought, choosing to instead bury my face in her shoulder. I am thankfully incapable of biting through armored plating.

“Okay, talk to me.” She says.

I keep my sentences concise to keep my thoughts from drifting. “Two Lunarian Seers: Theriya and Cerya. Theriya threatened me. Cerya called it off. Think I confided in her? That… doesn’t seem like me. I’m tired, hungry, and dealing with bad memories. Can’t keep pushing myself like this. But Cerya is worried, for me I think. Something about… mmm.“ Is it okay to mention that Cerya saw something related to Snapdragon in me?

Withering, she called it.

How long can I keep catching myself from babbling something I shouldn’t or trying to take a bite out of the nearest source of blood?

If I just got some sleep, I could probably handle my urges better.

Astraea simply nods before turning and leading me back into the open chamber for rituals. Theriya is nowhere to be seen, but a second bed chamber door is now open.

I point Astraea to Cerya’s door moments before the Seed Seer steps outside the room to greet us. I turn to Astraea. “I'm going to try and focus now.”

Astraea squeezes my arm, stopping me from hurting myself. “Be strong for me.”

I don’t feel any spilling of blood like when I nick my hand, but my parasite grips my heart all the same.

My stride regains its confidence as my vision sharpens.

“Are you back with us, Ayre?” Astraea whispers.

I nod. “Yeah. Let’s make this quick though.”

Astraea smiles. “I’ll try. That you managed to get them to like you on your own is important. Never forget that.”

Sure.

Putting my body in a state of heightened awareness makes me keenly aware of how long it has been since I have fed my parasite.

Cerya has so much more to offer than my delicate little dolls. She is so unusually well fed and… no. Stop.

I can’t think of people in that way. Not as I am.

I voluntarily close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Only the scent of my own blood touches the air. This is evidence enough that Astraea must have indeed drawn blood from my arm. But how did I not feel it?

There is no blood on her claw, it is almost as if…

I open my eyes to find Cerya wearing a concerned expression.

“Sorry.” I say. “We should probably handle introductions.”

Cerya beckons all of us into her private chamber. Taking a seat at the edge of a flower petal, she motions for me to sit alongside her.

A look to the side tells me that Snapdragon and Astraea have already parted to flank the door on either side. This leaves me the only one Cerya could be gesturing towards.

I accept, confirming with an exchange of looks that this is indeed Cerya’s intent.

She then turns her attention to Astraea. “My lady, allow me to introduce myself as Cerya Waning-Moon.”

My lips tighten at the change in demeanor. There is a warmth in Cerya’s voice that comes more easily than it did before.

Astraea steps forward. “Fair Seed Seer, I and the noble charge I am duty bound to protect are new to these lands. It is my hope that we prove to be a boon in the coming moons. You may call me Astraea, if it pleases.”

Cerya’s eyes practically alight at Astraea’s words. “Oh it very much pleases me to make your acquaintance! It charms me to know that Ayre keeps such lovely company.” Her eyes spare hardly more than a glance at my dolls as they are last to enter the room.

Astraea accepts the compliment with grace, showing off a sharp smile before bowing low. “Forgive me, fair Seed Seer. I have been asked to advise, guide, and protect. Until such a time passes that Ayre is secure in their place here, I am afraid such dalliances will have to wait.”

“Your forgiveness is wholeheartedly accepted Lady Astraea! Please do not allow me to get in the way of your many dedications!” Cerya practically titters as she sings the words aloud.

Either Cerya is suddenly putting on airs, has become comfortable with us, or she has taken an interest in my Sworn Blade.

All three could be true at once, I suppose.

My eyes turn to Snapdragon in a search for more insight, mere moments before Cerya does the same.

“I like to think of this one as my own personal protector.” Cerya says with a giggle as she beckons for Snapdragon to approach. “For so long as she is within these walls, you may call her Snapdragon.”

Snapdragon bristles, but only slightly as she meets my eye. As she approaches to stand at Cerya’s side, I tilt my head to the side and attempt to get her attention.

“If I can return a favor.” I say, drawing out that last word. “Do you have a preference over how you are to be addressed outside these walls?”

Snapdragon’s shoulders sink, but her face hardens. The rest of her winds up tight as she stands at attention. “When I report to the rest of those whom I have been planted alongside, I go only by the order of sprouting. You may call me Third. When otherwise serving in any other official capacity as a Lunariain Watcher, I am to be addressed as Thorned Watcher, Third Seed.” Snapdragon says, grimacing.

“I’ll try not to address you as such without cause.” I say with a confident smile.

My instincts pay off, earning me a soft smile from Snapdragon in turn.

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“I would appreciate that.” She says.

“It depends on who is addressing her.” Cerya says, chiming in. “You’ll learn the particulars, but until then I would specifically advise against bothering those who only see my dear Snapdragon as indistinguishable from the rest.”

The numbers might be situational. I suppose it would make sense if they are numbered only according to who sprouts first. Such a thing should only matter up to a point once individuals have been able to prove themselves.

Cerya’s arm moves ever so slightly, brushing against mine. I try not to flinch, taking it as a sign of approval. It takes me a few moments to smother thoughts about how Cerya has just smeared a drop of my blood along her arm in the exchange.

Which just leaves my dolls to be introduced.

Now would probably be a good time to stop being hyper aware of everything my senses pick up on.

They’re nothing but unremarkable dolls, I think to myself. It’s not much, but any effort of willing myself to believe the words makes it more manageable.

I give them an inviting gesture, which causes one to get excited.

That’s just Fia.

An untamed length of black hair falls to her waist. It is enough that she cradles her hair in one arm when she lowers herself to bow. “Your majesty! I am but a humble doll assigned to my Ayre’s needs.”

“Might I know your name?” Cerya asks.

“This one would happily give it, even if we think ourselves quite interchangeable. I am Fia, and this here is Selescia!”

My other doll merely inclines her head. With hair just as dark, Selescia keeps hers cut short enough to never fall beneath her ears. “Would I be right in concluding that so long as there are no guests within these walls, we might be allowed to dismiss with formalities?”

Cerya offers my dolls such a warm smile and tone of voice. “Of course! My recommendation would be to make yourselves comfortable. You’re going to be living here, are you not?" The Seed Seer turns to me. “We can save putting on airs for those who actually care about such things.”

Her words sound well and good on the face of it. Outwardly, I must register as interested, as Cerya is not immediately shocked by any expression of mine.

But I have unfortunately reached the stage of wrestling with my parasite’s hunger where feigning disinterest no longer works. Fia and Selescia appear to my eyes as suddenly vibrant and alive enough that I can’t help but think about how filled with blood they are. The little details of their poses become impossible not to notice.

Selescia has her hands behind her back. So often those hands are filled with knives.

Meanwhile Fia’s feet positioning is all wrong, like she is poised to charge or leap. Hers is a brand of wild and furious violence. Ever focused on finding weak points...

“It is as she says. Be at ease.” I say, feeling as compelled as my dolls do to lower our guards just a touch.

For however much I wish to keep my dolls from harm, we are each defined by a considerable length of time in the depths where violence was inevitable. Expecting it never quite became an unsafe assumption when interacting with others so long as we remained in the Vylian court. We ourselves did not prove to be exceptions to this norm for a number of interactions.

Selescia and Lenore were the quickest to identify value in not being at each other’s throats. Fia and I took much longer. It wasn’t until we helped each other kill another creature until we found an opportunity to bond.

Selescia surprises me by clasping her hands in front of her, revealing that she carried no such blade. “I must thank you, Cerya. For too long has any perceived slight at maintaining appearances led to threats and punishment.”

Snapdragon cuts in with a bark of a laugh. “You. I like you.”

My… Lenore’s doll blows Snapdragon a kiss. “Sometimes we must reserve our attention for what the most perceptive among us are likely to miss.” Selescia says, turning her eyes to me. Before I can make sense of the exchange, she begins to approach me, voicing an explanation that prompts me to lower my guard. “Now that I provoked punishment and have gone unpunished, I may take leave of my senses so that yours are sharpened.”

Almost immediately, Snapdragon and Cerya step aside to have a hushed exchange off to the side.

“I’ll keep watch over the dolls.” Snapdragon offers.

Cerya purrs. “Be gentle with Selescia. She’ll be back to herself in a day or more, depending on how much is given.”

Snapdragon sighs. “That quick, huh? Makes me wonder why my brother is so worried.”

I perk up at that, feeling a sudden need to seize on identifying just how much Cerya knows about Vylian feeding.

But Selescia has already slipped a knife from the sleeve of her dress. Such a clever doll.

My hunger demands I not worry about explaining the nuances of feeding. Instead I should just show Cerya how gentle I can be.

With a soft cry, Selescia’s blood descends along offered fingers.

I press my lips to her flesh, savoring the taste and warmth of her life’s essence.

Almost immediately, my senses become blinded by the overstimulation of becoming hyper aware of every detail of my doll’s body.

Selescia seizes that moment of vulnerability to climb atop of me. She pins my arms beneath her legs in short order so that she remains in control of the feeding.

Any concern of mine over the irregularity in our position is swept away as I soak up every detail of the stretch of skin between her chin and the base of her neck. So close are we that her pores and long faded scars are all my eyes have to worry about.

This is not how we typically do this.

With Selescia’s knife discarded, her unbloodied hand digs into my chest. Fingernails trace the outline of my parasite’s position.

I feel my wretch squirm within me as I my tongue drinks up every last drop of blood that pours from Selescia’s palm.

The threat solidifies as Selesia’s fingers rake at my chest.

More.

I need more.

My lips nibble at her fingers, approaching their base.

My teeth part in anticipation of reaching the source.

Her wound, dripping wet with blood.

And then I have her.

My lips coax the savory stream of life that flows through Selescia’s body directly from the palm of her hand.

She quivers, leaning into me as she grows weaker.

All at once I become aware of her unsteadiness.

The tiniest ease of pressure against my arms is enough to free them.

I have her. Cradled gently in my arms, I withdraw my lips and pivot my attention towards easing her onto the petal beside me. With a growl, I push the needs of my wretch back down now that it has been fed.

My eyes roam over my doll in unfounded concern. Selescia’s complexion has only turned a touch paler from our exchange.

Fia is at our side now. Without the need for words between us, she applies a binding around Selescia’s hand.

I remain still, gently caressing my Selescia’s cheek until her breathing slows.

“It’s done.” I say, the moment I am sure that Selescia is asleep. Fia is the one who is comforted earlier into sleep by my reassuring words. With Selescia I have found it only takes her longer.

Maybe my voice is not the one she wants to hear after a feeding. Or maybe I’m just being unkind with myself.

Fia hugs me from behind. She knows that I always feel like a miserable wretch afterwards.

When I feel comfortable prying myself from the attention of my dolls, I find that Snapdragon is the one to offer me a hand. I let her shoulder the weight helping me to my feet. Each of us doing as best we can not to disturb Selescia’s sleep.

“Would you like me to show you to another room to change?” Snapdragon asks with a whisper.

I shake my head. “The bindings stay on. I’ve already loosened them for resting.”

Snapdragon nods. “Understood. If you’ll excuse me then.” And with that, Snapdragon turns toward the door to find Astraea seated firmly on a nearby stump.

A wordless exchange passes between them before they both nod some understanding.

Astraea remains watchful as Fia and I search through the bag she carried from the carriage. It is mostly just filled with the softer clothes suitable for sleeping in.

Now dressed in a smaller and looser gown, Fia claims an entire petal for herself. She quickly spreads herself out. I like to think she enjoys having so much space to herself.

For me there is little more than undressing needed. I find myself seated in front of the same mirror as before when it comes to removing my boots.

Were it not for a robed Cerya attempting to pry me away from my reflection, I suspect I would have sat there until everyone else fell asleep.

When it comes to discussing sleeping arrangements, neither of Cerya or I seem able to bring it up. But it is clear enough in her determined expression that I do not brood overly long.

Looking to Astraea for support only gets me a clearly amused expression.

I hold out my hand to Cerya, which she takes and squeezes thankfully.

Taking the lead, I guide Cerya to a space between two petals opposite from my dolls. I sit on one.

Cerya remains standing, our gazes transfixed on each other’s hand. I give hers a gentle squeeze before nodding to the petal alongside mine.

A moment passes. Cerya shakes her head.

My free hand pats the petal I am seated on. This time I tug at Cerya’s hand.

Cerya follows through, joining me on my petal.

She stares at me for a long moment in thought before tugging her side of the petal around her. “You’ll understand soon enough, but so many here have felt disposable of late.”

I test my petal’s edge, finding it easily gives way if I put a little effort into lifting. The act of closing the petal around us leaves both intimately close.

Cerya’s cheeks redden. “I wanted to thank you. The gentleness that you and yours so casually share means a lot to see. That you would extend that to me…”

I nod, as the words of another find renewed value by passing through my lips. “The hardest I have ever fought was to be kind and gentle with another. It goes against everything Vylia wants me to be. But it’s worth it.”

The next words die before leaving my throat. You’re worth it.

Unable to meet Cerya’s gaze, I instinctively look down. Cerya responds by drawing me into her arms.

And I let her.

Before long, I find all my spare tension easing up.

I feel… Safe.

Just thinking about it usually brings me immense discomfort.

Normally I want to tense up, double check my surroundings, and put my back to a wall.

But there is only Cerya and I curled up in this petal of bedding.

Astraea has made no indication that she will stop watching over us all anytime soon. That alone should be reassuring enough.

I want to tell Cerya that there is nothing wrong.

But I know that’s not true.

Instead I reach for justifications. This is just how things are in Vylia.

But I’m not in Vylia anymore.

This situation is so far outside my lived experience and the expectations that my siblings prepared me for. I’m forced to come up with entirely new words that feel like they suit the situation.

“I’m glad to be here.” I say.