CW:

Almost soul murder. Sky being scary. Soul watching. Woops!

It took me a stupid amount of time, but I’ve done it. And was like… even smart enough to wait until the end to use this!

The fuzzy spirit’s pretty torn up. Not as much as I’ve done before but… it won’t matter.

Because just as the stupid thing slips free of my three tendrils to flee, growling annoyances and thinking to hide deeper in the pitch than I’ve any desire to go, I reach out with my two biggest Naranggas and hook the shadows we’re swimming in.

Then I jerk them away, tossing both myself and the fuzzy spirit up and back into the light of the manor.

And as the thing tumbles about, all flailing with sudden terror and fury and panic I tackle it with all my remaining tendrils while a big one curls over the pitch it could escape to. Beginning to rip and tear and bite and snarl in victory as I prepare to Reave and feed.

There is a lot of furry nonsense to get through. Layers and layers of protection but… it was already pretty beat up so it doesn’t take long for me to… to…

Can almost hear the furious purr of a Dark Goddess as I slowly and carefully twist my Naranggas loose from her.

And then all that’s left is this cute little fox looking girlthing. Silken white fur and covered in jewels and gems and… and eyes like the brightest glimmers of the sea. Her terrified eyes meet mine and I’m drowning in confliction and pain and bubbling anger. Understanding what I was too stupid to sense through all these past weeks of fighting her.

She’s Fae.

I should kill her. Chomp down on this girl that so quickly would steal my happiness and hurt my lovers and break our home. But… but… I can’t do it. Stupid tendrils twist back to soft lazy calm while my feet take me a step back.

Let out a huff of a growl as I plop down to bask in my bitter victory.

Unable to kill this girl who... who seems so much like me.

The fox girl's eyes narrow as she moves to sit up, pretty blue gaze locked on mine. Nearly boiling over with hurt and fury and anger and… and worse. The white fur that covers her body bristles with all the emotions as her own talons curl and flex. Not… I don’t sense she’s going to attack me again. At least not today. So… what is she…

Oh.

I drag the huge tendril I was using to block her shadowy escape free, and nod to the pitch.

“G– go.” I murmur. Feeling so stupid at… at not using this trick I’d been saving for this next ambush to end her.

Finally ripping this scary spirit apart and proving that I’m safe again. Able to walk free without fear of hurting anyone I love.

A pause, then she’s darted past faster than I can blink. Gone at the speed of thought and will. But… She’s not fled into the deeper pitch yet. Is… I can feel her pause at shadow’s edge to regard me. Only pretty blue eyes visible but… thrumming with things I’d rather not worry about.

“G– GO!” I hiss at her, and she darts beyond my ability to sense.

A pause, and I hear a rustling of…

Oh. right.

Glancing over as quickly as I can without actually meeting her gaze I consider the person who might not understand that my words weren’t meant for her. But… no. Her blaze of a soul dances in conflict of another kind. One I’d rather not think about.

I’d asked Awnya why they keep having Raska watch over me, and… and her explanation made a ton of sense. Sure.

“The manor can tell us when things happen, but not how you’re doing. And… Raska can kinda see past the shadows.” My Fae had sighed. “I’m not leaving you alone here when that thing attacks.”

And… I hate it. So much.

Hate having to always sense her Dreamer Blighted blaze of soul flickering and dancing and pulsing as she watches me. Get to… to understand what the odd twitches and burps of emotion mean. Without even trying, beginning to recognize the six distinct sources of them.

They’re… not like my Jellyfish. At all. My children are all separate and cute and soft and very not tied to me.

But… these blazes inside her. It’s such a tangled mess. A discordant song of patchwork desires and furious wills. One… seems approving of my sudden victory, while another two are still and maybe… sleeping? Yeah. And a final one is really quiet but still upset about like… well everything all the time, honestly. And the biggest? The core? She… she…

I don’t want to see this. Don’t want to see the heart of this roiling mess of a soul consider me like that. Forcibly silent due to her Oaths but… so clearly singing her joy and pride and… and other things as I sit here sulking in my victory.

Torn between a tittering of enjoyment and fear and… and guilt for seeing all this.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

With my Beloveds they… they let my tendrils touch and snuggle and share their emotions with me. Have even learned to quiet themselves and hide things they want to keep private! Which is good! Scary at times but… but they deserve that. And only recently have I started to be able to read them without touch.

But this? Her?

This feels… wrong. Unfair.

Violating in the worst ways.

And… and what do I even do about this?!?

If I try to tell her she… it’ll free her from her Oath and… and she can talk back to me and… and I know Tretion insisted she’s nothing but sorry but… but… what if me sensing her soul things makes her angry again!?!

Last time I trusted her we hurt each other. My scars are obvious but… but I… she…

Dreamer’s Tits.

I should just… talk to Awnya or Tretion. Tell them I scared off the Fuzzy Fox Spirit. Even if they don’t think I’m safe to get out of this bubble they can at LEAST let Raska go do other stuff.

Get her away from the monster that is me.

* * *

“Love?” Awnya calls out.

“A moment…” I hiss through it all.

The words were spoken, the air boils, and my flesh withers but… The Radiance of it and the small plant I’m working over shifts an ever small degree.

I’m grinning as I look up to find my love staring in worry.

“Try this one.” I demand.

She shuffles up to me, humming a soft thing of healing over my fingers and apparently blood dripping left ear. “I… you sure? Three dozen at a time was a good plan.”

“It was, But I’ve been honing in on this and am tuning myself with these last two.” My shaking head and words make her pause. “This is almost certainly perfect. Confirm this first, then do your deeper healings.”

She sucks in a breath but… nods. And we take the closest door to the Gateway.

Once there, and my beloved commands the manor to open, she’s weaving one of her gorgeous Riftwalking songs. A thing that… that always sets my heart to ache in both love for the way it always seems to resonate with this place and her love for it, and how I lost my own easy Riftwalking when I died.

The skill that set me apart and kept me alive. Not safe from the displeasure of my Matron but… unique. My intelligence and achievements, despite proving me at the very least Zetra’s better, never matched the need for a daughter that could flit about the Rifts without ripping her own soul apart with a Wretched Incantation.

But… no more. That skill was lost to me when I died. I’ll have to feel my soul wither a bit as I gouge a Rift.

And then Awnya’s song is done, and the air parts for my lover to gaze into some strange Rift beyond.

A deep breath, then she’s carrying my little experiment through. Holding it close to her chest as she gazes down at the maroon stalk and leaves touched with cerulean blossoms.

Amwella sight is already upon me, and the little implanted soul is the focus of both our gazes.

Nothing.

Good. Good. Six of the first batch survived three dozen heartbeats before wilting. Already showing the promise in stark contrast to the others I’d only adjusted the soul on which wilted within seconds.

Still nothing.

Better. The two we’d brought back before their withering have not died so this shows that attunement is possible and the rot will not follow.

But…

Awnya looks up to me. Eyes alight with both delight and a question.

I shake my head, needing to keep myself behind the gateway, as it is the true barrier between the wider Rifts and this place. “No. We need to see how long it can last. There is a chance of Radiance lilting back into the old patterns.”

“Alright!” She smirks and nods. Eventually even settling down to sit on the grass of the Rift we’ve been using. “I can keep this open for… another ten minutes? More if we have to but… honestly at that point I’d rather leave this little one out here and check later?”

“I agree. At this point I’d like to come back and consider its status every hour for this first day.” I nod, moving to mimic her sitting but on the soft carpets of our manor. “Then two every other hour on the later days.”

“And…” She looks up to quirk an eyebrow at me. “When would you like to step free yourself?”

I freeze, mouth going dry as headstalks freely wriggle in sudden cold worry. “I… A plant is not a person. And normally I’d insist you find me a recently slain creature to try this on. But…”

“But?”

I sigh and look down. “There would be no difference, if I’m being honest. This plant was woven to mimic all the things I needed to check.”

A pause.

“So…” Awnya whispers. “Why not right now?”

I wince as I feel such old pain bubble up. “For years I imagined walking forth with you. Taking a long journey away after making sure Nelops was settled and… and just… we almost did that. Love. Had things been but a whisper different we’d have never found out she was alive and… and…”

Awnya crosses the distance before my first tears fall. Wrapping my everything in perfect arms and cooing soft words of love and kindness.

“I want Lyra to be with us.” I stammer past my quivering lips.

“Hey that’s… yeah.” Awnya agrees. “That would be the best, of course. And hey! Lyra’s been beating the snot out of the stupid goose that keeps attacking her. At her pace she’ll be walking free and unbothered by anything the mantle can throw at her!”

“No I… I still need to do this.” I hiss. “We need to know more if we’re to keep our beloved safe, Awnya. Either from the Fae, a Godthing, or the cunt herself. I will have them tell me or Rot.”

She balks a bit at that. Whispers after a few seconds. “Love, that wasn’t the plan.”

No.

I huff and let my headstalks droop. Reach out with soul to nudge her's and share my honest pained agreement. “Of course. You’re right. That… I wish It could be. But… I will not risk my life and our happiness in reckless spite.”

That calms her, seems to convey my sudden outburst as the simple flair of anger it was. “Good, because otherwise you know I’d not let you leave otherwise.”

“Just… Trades.” I nod, let a headstalk of mine help wipe away tears as I recite our plan. “Gifts, favors, and the like. We’ve found countless rare Tomes and a trove of impressive magical items. Threats are only good for the last possible options. And everything spoken from some of these beings will be answers we can use. Whether lies, half-truths, or taunts. All are pieces we can decipher.”

“Yup. You’ll have all manner of good reasons to make these cunts sing.” Awnya agrees. “And with Raska at your side… even the scarier types will hesitate before considering trying something stupid. You’ll walk from this place a Matron more impressive than any other! If… and if we can get Lyra in a good place and our kids back safe with her you should take me with you. An Everflame is one thing but… a Fae? Yeah that’s…”

But my shaking head stops her. “No.”

Awnya purses her lips but… nods. “Yeah. I… I get it. My freeing of slaves was good and still is but… right now that connection might still be unknown. Could hurt your status with some of them.”

But I’m shaking my head harder. “That’s not it either, beloved. I mean to be very clear about who I am and whom I’m protecting. But… Someone needs to remain to keep Lyra here.”

That makes her pause. “I… oh.”

“Yes, oh!” I almost spit but… not in anger.

In roiling fear.

“If both of us leave there will be nothing to stop her from panicking.” I growl. “From… from either trying to shove through our home and hurting herself. Possibly triggering its more insistent Containment workings, or worse actually getting free and going back to that wretched cunt. Even just her being alone in case of a Waking Nightmare is unthinkable to me.”

“I mean… Yuna is here.” She prompts weakly.

“She didn’t stop her before, and that was when Lyra still thought her mother perfect. And now? I will not give her enough permissions in our home to matter.” I bury that innocent hope. “No, love. It is either this or nothing. Take this risk or seal up this Manor and set to weather whatever storm comes. From within or without.”

She huffs, sets me with a sad and annoyed smirk, but nods. “Yeah. You’re right. I just… needed to go over it.” My beloved looks out of the slowly fading Rift. Eyes on the plant she’d left when she returned to me. “This… is a risk. One I’m caught between feeling is playing right into bad hands or… thinking is bold and unpredictable.”

“A show of strength.” I agree, and follow her gaze.

Make a choice.

I rise, headstalks going stiff in worry as I consider the dangers of my considerations.

“Beloved?” Awnya asks carefully.

I take up her hand. “Just… a few seconds will, at most, burn a bit. You can pull me back to safety should the worst occur.”

My beloved pauses, squeezes my hand. “If you think this safe then… I’m with you.”

Deep breath, and I stride forward and out. Brace through the vertigo I’ve not endured since childhood. The displacement of one moving through a tear, not needed to since my talent was just so much more efficient and devoid of this for me.

The Rift Awnya chose is… marvelous in its disparity. Half a strange forest saturated with odd colors and quiet creatures, the other part a savannah rife with large lumbering cackling things.

And the sky above… oh how the sun blazes as little clouds writhe about her fury. Inconceivably huge. Bigger than I remember. Too big. Too much. All at once I can’t help but think at any second I could slip and tumble upwards into–

The terror that grips me is honestly expected, and Awnya’s already thinking to hum a soft thing of peace to help steady my heart and mind.

I could just… bask in this for days, but… Priorities first.

I glance down to my strange fuzzy little soul. Consider how its little tendrils dance while also moving up a hand to watch for… but no. Nothing.

The Blight my Wretched Incantation touched me with does not move. Nor can I see anything stir around my Amwella.

“Thank you.” I whisper as the first tears touch my eyes.

“You’re welcome, love.” She murmurs softly, pulls arm close as my headstalks begin to cling to her.

But even her touches and song cannot still the storm I feel rising past her efforts.

“I… I think that’s enough. For now.” I whisper, “Slowly, I think.”

She nods and helps me back up through the Rift. “Yup, easy does it! If you mean to stand ready to stare down some spooky gooses you’ll need the sight of the sky to not set your heart racing.”