CW:

Talk of childhood murder, talk of abuse and abusers, mention of past sexual assault

This time, the panic stays inside when I wake up in Raska’s arms. Barely tints my Sea-bed of a soul with fear. It’s enough to like… stir up all my Jellyfish but they were wibbling about anyway. A few even curiously following the tendrils wrapped about this Everflame’s soul to see what this new blazing person is about. Careful and keeping their distance though.

“Heya.” Raska murmurs gently as I wriggle to look about.

“Mmmm…” I murmur and move to sit up, notice that my Beloveds have returned and sit talking quietly. Even called over a few of our more active children to dance and nuzzle their souls.

Awnya looks at us with a smirk first. “Morning, Beloved. Rest okay?”

I feel the heat touch my cheeks as I nod. “Mhm. Good. W– warm.”

“We brought food, if you’d like some.” Tretion motions to a tray on the desk.

I have a few nibbles, but soon am lured into a bath with my Beloveds while Raska agrees to step out and check on her home and lovers.

Takes a bit to scrub and sing all the guck off me. To… to smell a bit better after all the stuff that’s happened. And it’s only halfway through that I notice that my burns aren’t itching as much as they should. They’re still ugly and gross but… well…

“Beloved?” Tretion murmurs.

I huff, look up to her. “Huh?”

We’re using the big warm bath today, all of us wanting to take our time and soak a bit. Relax after… after all the messy nonsense. Take it slow. And while they enjoy sitting on the little shelf on the edges I prefer the full deepness that I can kneel down and submerge my face into while still keeping a firm grip on my lover’s Amwella when I do it all.

And... I see that the questions and words they'd been saving for a quiet and safe moment have finally bubbled up.

“We wanted to talk to you. About what Undreka said. Get your thoughts and… and let you share what you will before needing to question her.” Our Watcher clarifies. “Is that alright?”

I nod. Carefully draw closer on myself, the little wigglie children nuzzled within my Amwella while the Fuzzy Spirit rests watchfully within the mebe parts.

“This changes some things, but not how we feel about them. How much we love them and you.” She begins. “I’m so very glad Awnya knew to say that, right as the revelation struck, actually.”

Our Fae nods, then leans a head over to rest on Tretion’s shoulder. “Honestly that’s where my everything got stuck for a bit, while yours was already swooping and flying ahead to this.”

I nibble on my lower lips, murmuring softly. “Sorry.”

“Lyra...” Awnya smirks and slides forward to join me in the middle of the bath. Reaches out to touch my fingers. "There's nothing to apologize for here. Even if you knew and didn't feel safe telling us."

“D– didn’t… um… kn– know. Sh– should have.” I whisper, gripping at her hand.

“We’ve spoken a bit and… while I chide myself for not seeing the links,” Tretion smiles and move to join us, taking up my free hand. “You were not in a space that such revelations were offered freely, in fact… we think they were hidden.”

I wince, but accept her hand and inevitable head noodle's snuggles. “Mebe.”

“Did she ever speak of them?” Our Watcher asks gently. “Instruct you on their care or… or push you into certain acts?”

I think back, try to… to remember all the things.

The book, the words, the curses, the… the first time I saw one of them gobble up that Watcher’s soul, Tretion reminds me that her name was Zitra, in Thendra’s manor after we killed her grandmother. How they were just curses. I feel horrible when I tell them how I called our wonderful Jellyfish Rot Maggots. That… that was wrong and stupid and… and would be like how…

How my parents called me boy, how they killed me in the woods instead of seeing the real me…

It’s… nothing like when Thendra told me and dredged up the memory somehow. All I had there was anger and biting and… and wanting to wail my worst songs and tear the Dream all around me to Rot and Ruin.

But… Here?

I’m shaking and hissing and can’t breathe and blurry eyes and… and I can’t breathe can’t breath can’t…

But, Awnya’s there. Crying and humming a melody that helps me gulp down a breath. Not trying to smother my sadness or pain but… holding me up as it all tries and kinda succeeding in melting me as I whimper out a, “Why!?!”

“I’m so sorry, Beloved.” Tretion murmurs softly as she embraces us all. “I’m so very sorry.”

“Wh– why?” I whimper again. Letting them hold me close and tug me to edge of the bath.

“I… Don’t know, Beloved.” Awnya whispers, her own eyes and voice a mess. “I dunno why someone would be so upset at their kid just… wanting to be comfortable in their own body.”

But I know the answer, remember more of their shouted words. And it makes my Sea-bed curl in on itself. Smaller than It’s been since I woke up here and… and even my Jellyfish struggle to nuzzle closer.

Broken.

But… No that’s… no.

“N– not broken.” I growl at the thought and fight to… to… to feel that!

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“No. Not at all!” Awnya agrees with a worried but proud smile. While Tretion nods and hugs me closer with her tendrils. “Of course not. Our Beloved is so very special and amazing. Hurt. But… Perfect. Just healing.”

Deep breath, and I fight to uncurl my soul, wrap theirs in mine once again and hug our Jellyfish close. Making sure to… to share with them that.

Not broken. Perfect. Always always always ALWAYS!!!

And they coo and wriggle and nuzzle so happily at that.

It… takes a while. Even just snuggled close in this big warm bath filled to bubbling over with my Beloveds and our Jellyfish for me to start up again.

Training with Bulderii. Learning to be a Reaver. And… and Begging Thendra to let me go help Usete and… and Awnya’s dad. Curse the heart of this Manor. Probably it’s keeper too. Get that weird ring. And… and earn my freedom and the little cursed mark from Furthonois.

“A ring?” Awnya murmurs, “Huh…”

“Wh– what?” I ask as her soul wibbles in memory.

“Just… just before your year here. Away, but after the Fae wood. I found her on that stormy Rift. With that ring, and her Reaver’s coming back from that weird pool. That’s when they got head tendrils with eyeballs and the Amwella smothering gaze they come with.”

Tretion's nodding. “I… found records on that. Later, of course. The ring was jeweled with one of my family’s Brewing Stones. Things they’d use to weave Watcher traits into their children.”

“Huh?” I gurble back in confusion.

“It’s… not too important. I don’t think. Not right this second.” Awnya murmurs. “Just… good to know. She used it to give her Reavers Watcher tendrils and eyes.”

“Um…” I sway. “Cursed her R– Reavers. And… and ate th– their souls. A lot. When… when they’d try to… to… h– hurt me. L– like Tw– Twital d– did.”

“Dreamer’s Tits…” Awnya leans harder into me. “I’m so sorry. That…”

“Never let them.” I growl, Sea-bed beginning to twist into cruel and sharper shapes as I remember… remember that night. “Never Again.”

“Good.” Tretion growls and wraps about us.

Then… well not much. Eating and eating and… well other things. Nothing… um… Till Awnya and… and Furthonois and… this. Them.

“Thank you, Beloved.” Tretion murmurs after I’ve gone quiet for a bit. “I also wanted to ask something. A… Well, an odd thing Awnya mentioned.”

“Oke?”

“We’re… a touch worried about our children’s growth. Where it might lead. How… how they might one day want or need physical forms.”

I… Wh- what? Bodies? Not… not just little Jellyfish?

“Kinda like how little creatures learn songs and such, then start to weave something more to become Fae.” Awnya clarifies. “We’re willing to like… do whatever is needed. You can weave either the bubbles or Blight into flesh or scale or… or honestly maybe teach them since they seem to enjoy the stuff as much as you.”

“I… B– but…” I sputter and snuggle my clutch close. Picturing them as not just my little soul nuzzlers but… but walking talking feeling people! Not forever like this.

Changing.

Growing.

Becoming who they Dream to be.

Awnya giggles. “I… actually remember the look on my dad’s face when I first shifted. At the time and later it was just silly but…”

In a hiccup of fear and confusion and memory… her words pop something. A bubble of a thing I’d forgotten.

The look on my mother's face when I first wove a magic song. Small and softy hummed by a brookside. Didn’t even mean to, and it had no words but… when I looked up she’d gone so quiet. Like she’d never done.

Scared me into stopping.

Then she smiled through dribbling eyes and came to sit next to me. Picked up the song I dropped, and helped me keep making my own. Started tangling them in with talking things.

Helping me find my voice, a path to find the body I needed, and… and…

Family.

A mother who wanted to see me blossom like no one had done before. How she cried and sang and held me through those days of pain and terror and hope as my old shell fell all to pieces and my thrumming Amwella burned it to ashes as we fought to weave a new song and flesh about my soul and–

Pain and love dance through my everything and I weave another song of Promise to my clutch while holding them close.

Whatever form you want, I will help you gain.

Always.

They wibble and giggle and coo in wonder and curiosity and delight at that. So much so that it’s not until the song’s end that I notice Awnya was humming the melody with me. Weaving in her own dedication to this, and love for them.

And… while I didn’t answer their questions, of course my Beloveds get it. Easily. Weep and snuggle close as we cuddle our Jellyfish and give them all the warm love we can.

Our Watcher can’t sing with us. But... I can feel her focus on this. Her furious understanding and… well, she’s really brilliant. If I could learn to sing Fae songs honestly anyone can.

Especially her.

“And… that’s the other thing.” Our Watcher says as our tears and little sobs have quieted. “We wanted to ask if you’d like to be there when the time comes to question Undreka.”

I… think on that for a few seconds, but am nodding before the words for it come to my lips. “Y– yeah. Th– thanks f– for…. For l– letting her live. S– stay. F– f– f– find h– h– hap– e– ness.”

“Well… the happiness won’t come cheap, honestly.” Awnya chuckles. “She better have some useful information and a willingness to like… change. A lot. I know she’s been away from Thendra for over a decade but…”

“Pl– pl– please.” I whisper. “Sh– sh– she…”

What? She kinda seemed to like me. Even tried to warn me off from getting hurt. But… I mean her attacking our children is really stupid and bad but… I mean…

“I know.” Tretion sighs and gives me a soft kiss on the top of my head. Amwella all wriggling in soft understanding of my unspoken worries.

“Huh?” I turn up to meet her gaze, give cold Amwella a little squeeze.

She smiles softly, but… in her eyes and soul is such worry. “She’s like you were, in many ways. Ensnared and used and… and thinking she doesn’t deserve anything but what that horrid woman gave her, I suspect. We can gift her something I’m not sure she’d had offered. Time, and people other than Thendra to help guide her into wanting more than that life. If what you’ve seen is true, and her death only leads to a type of rebirth devoid of memories…”

I wince, nod. Pull her into a hug.

“She’s gonna probably… share things.” Awnya murmurs. “Things she’s done, and that have been done to her. And if you need to leave, I want you to know that’s alright. More than alright, actually, it's smart to step away. Ask for space. Let us question her and sift through all the things.”

“Y– you too.” I whisper and turn to nuzzle our Fae. “P– protect in– insides.”

Awnya chuckles, and pulls me close. “Will do. This… is actually something I’ve kinda done before. And have people to get advice from.”

“R- really?” I murmur and pull back to look at her.

She shrugs through a wince. “Plenty of horrid sorts use slaves to control other slaves. Get them to engage with the violence and abuse. We’ve saved them too. But… not all of them come here in a good headspace. They can turn back to old habits right-quick. Had to isolate and help rehabilitate them. Get them thrumming with healthy songs and unlearning old lessons.”

I purse my lips a bit. “L– like m– me?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.” Awnya nods easily. “Although… you were mostly dangerous to yourself. Didn’t want to hurt anyone. Which… still impresses me.”

I don’t need to ask when my expression must be so confused.

“You told us yourself how… what she made you do. How she kept you in a really bad cycle of violence and feeding balanced for what you considered physical affections.” Awnya murmurs, seeming to curl more about me in body and soul.

“So many others either fall apart, or remake themselves in a reflection of the horrors they both suffer or are made to inflict.” Tretion adds. “It’s not a thing to curse or praise, of course, just… part of the process used to break people.”

That… I don’t know how to gobble those words up. What to make of them. Except…

“Y– you th– th– think sh– she c– can ch– ch– change?” I whisper, “Un– Undreka?”

“Yeah.” Awnya nods. “Not quickly, and probably not easily. It’ll take a lot to trust her to be out and about but… sure. If she wants to.”

“Wh– want to help her.”

Tretion nods. “I… Am not too pleased with my first impressions of her. This girl you sacrificed so much to save. But… This is the task I set this place to. Would be remiss to not fulfill the goals I set in honor of your memory. Especially now that you are alive and able to see the fruits of how you inspired us.”