CW:

Attacking cuties and their Jellyfish. Rude. Undreka POV followed by Lyra POV THEN Undreka AGAIN! AHHH!!!

ALSO. Change in format. No more double spacing due to being nicer to future self in editing and such and much. Still same lengh, juuuust not mibble space!

“How can the Manor like… not know what did this?” The Everflame growls over the latest of my lures.

The Watcher’s Amwella and headstalks roil and twist in anger and weariness, kneeling to watch as the corpse is drug into this place’s embrace. Wrapped tight and preserved by odd popping twisting Amwella.

I… am glad I have some measure of Thendra’s wretch. Else I’d have waited closer and alerted the Godling in their midst to my presence.

“It shouldn’t.” The Fae murmurs. “Can… They were all traveling alone. Right?”

The Watcher nods. “Yes. And besides these three the Manor’s counting is still precise.”

“Alright. You’ve already sealed the passages, alerted the duenna, no one should travel alone.” The Everflame nods. Glancing up and down the hallways. “What now?”

The staff in the Watcher’s hand growls as she steps closer to the Godling and…

What are those? I narrow my focus and squint. Little… extensions about her?

No. Detached workings of Song?

No. Sparks from the Dead Cinders?

No. They burn with nothing but calm and almost… childlike love for…

My everything freezes at that.

No. Those… those can’t be…

Need to get closer.

The Godling jerks. Eyes and Naranggas tilt toward the hall I move through.

I slow, but do not stop.

“Lyra?” The Watcher whispers, gaze and stave tilting toward me.

The Godling simply lets out a wary growl as her eyes narrow, dart about and around me. Unable to understand why her instincts alert her to danger.

“Yeah I feel it too.” The Fae hisses. “Raska, Sparks up girl. We’ve got something… something coming close.”

“What?” The Everflame spits and releases her Flame to blaze about the floor between us. “Like… A Fae? Using a song to–”

“No.” The Godling whispers, and then is moving to gather up her… her…

And in a snarl of fury I’m lunging at this wretch and her clutch.

***

The thing hits me before even my Reaver instincts are fully screaming. Naranggas only blocking the strike because they take up so much space when flared out but… also partially distracted by my efforts to gather up my Jellyfish close and… and decide what to do.

Push them away? Into the arms of my Beloveds Bound and their mothers or… or…

Better in danger with our family, then alone.

Always.

And I hesitated right as the strike lands. Pinned in place by the Promise Song and the Children I made it to.

This thing is a mess of writhing nonsense. Beaks and talons and bladed tendrils and… Naranggas?

It’s ALL Naranggas.

No eyes no skin no heart no bones no hair no mouth just teeth and claws and everything wretched and painful and terrible and so very angry…

At me, yes. But… From the second the first of the mess touches the edges of my Amwella I know that this thing's true anger is for the Jellyfish about and around my soul.

Hungry to rip and Reave my Young from the Dream.

And as the anger at that sparks up quicker than thought envelopes me, this thing is already shoved my Naranggas aside and reaching for the treasures nuzzled close and hissing and–

An explosion of Black Lightning twists around and through and about my core. A yelping Spirit snapping out to bite and gnash at the limb reaching to hurt our children.

When Awnya cried a bit about almost killing me with Tretion’s stave I’d made sure to tell them that no, in fact, this little cutie couldn’t hurt me. It’s… too much like my Blighted Sea. That settled Awnya, but... worried Tretion.

So… I helped, with a bit of worry and insistence that everything I met in the Ocean between Rifts were super friendly and wonderful, to make sure this thing grew fangs that could hurt a Leviathan that swims there.

And… well… I remember my Naranggas being so perfect within the Blight. And as the Lightning bites and tears and rips… it does not consume this thing in a single gulp like it should. And this monster still has dozens and dozens of more things to reach with!

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

But then Song and Flame weave about and around and along my Sea-bed. Melody woven betwixt the Everflame’s Spark. Imbuing with a mother and lover’s fury.

Can’t help but growl in joy as I draw tendrils back from the reeling monster, swirl nearly half of them into a single limb that feels heavier than the Dream itself, and crack a strike into this monster that thinks to hurt MY FAMILY.

I tear the thing nearly in half. The bladed hooked limbs of my endlessly large Naranggas slurping up this stupid thing’s soulflame and warmth and tendrils. The Amwella eaten dribbles into the depths of my Sea-bed. Sprouting as more wigglie life. Soft places for my family to wibble and swim and be so very safe. Even the Fuzzy Fae is humming in approval to our victory from the maybe parts within my soul.

The thing stumbles back. Surprised and wounded. Bleeding soulflame and dragging itself back into… into…

Huh?

Well, that explains where this stupid thing was hiding. Didn’t… didn’t realize this Manor had space between. Slivers where it keeps the maybe bubbles? But… has trouble seeing there? Or… maybe this monster… Hm… How did it get there?

I reach after it. Stretching my new massive Naranggas to split and slither after the monster while keeping the core of my Amwella and body and Jellyfish firmly planted into the hallways still. Trying to hook what remains to crush and eat. Also… maybe see if there are more scary things hiding here?

There aren’t from what I can see why distractedly chasing the thing. And Dreamer’s Tits this monster is FAST. And quite a few times I almost have it… and then it’s farther away than ever before. But… Also my Naranggas doesn’t seem to ever be at full reach in this weird bubbly space.

“Beloved?” Tretion murmurs. But… From the way her Amwella thrums in understanding and pride and fury I know she sees this now.

Sees the place this thing was burrowing through, and murmurs sharp commands to the Manor to help it aid me.

“I don’t see any exits.” She continues with softer words as she and Awnya step up to my Core’s side. “How did it even get in there?”

“And those were tendrils like you have. Like some Reaver’s, have.” Raska hisses.

I try to ignore that. Focus on the prey I’ve cast myself to catch and eat.

“The Cunt betrayed us already?” Awnya growls.

Tretion’s soul wibbles in confliction, but then she shares her thoughts. “It’s possible, but Lyra adapted to gain many Naranggas. Others might have as well.”

Almost have it. Now that the Manor understands what’s happening through Tretion’s instructions some of the Soulwaste is creating edges and walls and borders.

The thing knows it’s cornered, and twists itself back into the manor. Flaring out its own mess of still bleeding Naranggas as it pulls itself back into a tall shape.

Dark skin, really tall… A Reaver.

One of hers.

My heart and soul want to scream in pain at… that Thendra would send one of hers after me. After my children!?!

The Manor’s already shifting to close four walls and bubbles about the Reaver. Quickly and deftly cornering her in every way it can. Even to the maybe parts of itself.

I’m about to take a step forward, but a hand and humming question from our Fae stops me. A silent request.

So I pause and only glare.

The Reaver’s back is to us as bleeding Amwella pulls close to begin healing and shrouding itself while still keeping sharp tips and barbs flared in silent threat to the manor.

“We have questions.” Tretion demands. “Give us answers, and we’ll consider letting you live.”

The Reaver chuckles and sags a bit, then glances back and… and…

An Old Curse flairs as my everything jerks back. Horrified. Breaking and Cracking and shivering with rage at the woman who just tried to kill my family.

***

The Lamentation bites her deep as she realizes the truth. Her little Oath of Sympathy tears through her like… like I didn’t even consider it should.

Is this wretch really so foolish as to still desire my safety and happiness? If I had known this, and was not so enraged by what truths lay deep within her God-Reaved soul… I might have found the wisdom in using that.

But… It's too late now. I lunged for a strike, and lost so much of my Wellspring in just the initial counter. Underestimated her and will most likely be returned to the Pit now.

“Un– Un–” The Wretch stammers. Syllables broken and voice shaking.

I fully turn to regard her. Taking in the physical where before I only paid mind to the Writhing Godling soul and Clutch within.

Fae form has aged. Which is odd. And half covered in… burns? Barely healed. Literally held in place as if…

“Un– Drek– a?” She forces out after a pause to regain herself. Eyes wide.

The Fae at her side pauses, confused. Then freezes as realization dawns. The Watcher glares while the Everflame glances back at them in confusion.

“Who?” The Flame-thief whispers.

“Wh– why?” The Wretch asks, eyes bubbling with moisture, even takes a step forward.

I don’t move. Don’t flinch. Don’t answer. Might be foolish enough to...

And still, even at that the Lamentation gouges her soul.

“Lyra, hey.” The Fae cautions and grips her shoulder tighter. “This… hold up. Is this really her?”

The Wretch barely seems to notice her question, but nods. Reaching a hand up to rub at the old curse at her collarbone as she refuses to do anything else but move eyes between my gaze and Amwella.

Searching for answers I refuse to give.

“Who?” The Everflame repeats. “Do we really care if this is one Reaver or another–”

“WHY!?!” The Godling Wretch screams. Her everything lashing out with that large Naranggas to swirl about my form and soul. Barbs twisting free and hovering close.

I only keep eyes locked on hers. Expressionless in my focus.

The Curse she wove upon herself burns and bites, and then she’s shoving her clutch away and onto the Amwella of the Fae and Watcher. Oaths deep within their cores I didn’t realize flare and cut off words or protest. Drawing the clutch to them like insects to a flame.

Then she’s approaching. Eyes burning such bright violet that reflect well off the tears that now drip down her cheeks. Naranggas rising up to bar the path of even the Everflame from joining her as she moves to stand before me.

The others call out things, but between this place’s protections and this Godling’s Naranggas and Songs… they know the only threat to this Wretch lays burning upon her flesh.

Burning slowly at her Amwella as she struggles with affections she’s somehow kept through time and pain and betrayal.

“A– ans– swer m– m– ME!” She growls.

I consider remaining silent. As would be expected of one of the… the…

But I’m not one of Thendra’s… not anymore.

“Promises Broken.” I allow myself to murmur.

Even the floors and walls around us shift to try and urge her back. But… this Wretch of a Godling’s embrace of Naranggas about us and me is firm and solid and stubborn.

She shakes her head, but keeps gaze locked on mine. “N– no. St– st– st– upid.”

I let an eyebrow tilt up at that.

“Y– you f– fr– free.” She stammers. “Th– th– th– Thendra k– kept th– th– th– this Pr– pro pr– promise! D– did… is… Th– th– th–”

I stare down as she falls into incoherently broken words. Tilt my head in curiosity.

Decide to… test this.

“I only remember Thendra demanding your songs, not your words.” I murmur. “Why can’t you speak plainly?”

Outwardly she glares, inwardly… she withers. Amwella twitching in obvious pain. And… Still that curse burns hot.

“HEY!” The Fae snaps from behind the barrier. “Lyra! C’mon. This… this isn’t what we agreed to!”

The Wretch flinches, but doesn’t look back, only gazes away. “I… Sh– sh– she…”

I let out such a growl and a sigh. But not at her. At… at how she just becomes so plainly laid out to me at that.

“You’re still hers.”

The wretch curls as much of her soul close as she can without risk.

“Beloved.” Comes a gentle but insistent call from the Watcher.

The wretch opens her mouth, closes it. Eventually murmurs, “Wh– why. Wh– why c– come here? Att– ta– tack m– me? Ch– children? D– did… Th– th– th– th– endr– ra s– send y– you?”

I shake my head. “No.”

She turns a glare back up to me, but her soul roils in both relief and anger at that. “Th– then wh– wh– wh– WHY!?!”

“I had to see for myself.” I growl. “Had to know for certain.”

She snarls, Naranggas twitching in rekindled fury as the curse she bears screams. “Kn– know what?”

“That you were carrying her children!” I spit.