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Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer
Chapter 125: Rising Inspirations

Chapter 125: Rising Inspirations

CW:

RASKA POV!!! Um... mostly clean? Talk of freeing slaves

She doesn’t even notice what she’s been doing for… a good two or three minutes. Which is both really fucking cute, distracting, and kinda worrying.

She did this maybe… two or three times back before. But only once to me. And it was when she was really trying to think on the couple words she wanted to try forcing out.

Nibbling on someone she trusted. Softly chewing on my fingers and knuckles and iron talons while gently letting her tongue touch and graze flesh. Trying so hard to communicate both her struggle to talk, but really not wanting us to leave.

Which… you’d think the distinct scent and whatnot of an Everflame would tell her right quick that she’s grabbed the digits that don’t belong to either Awnya or Tretion. But… hmmm…

Wish I could read Amwella. Get a better idea of her thoughts. But other than really big and obvious twists in the souls of people I’m familiar with I’ve never been able to read them. Especially now that she’s got this big mess of a soul. A twitch that could mean anger or terror could just be… like… the way her core flickers!

But she had to have known immediately. Which… I mean I know she wants to trust me. I think. That could also be her own abuse and guilt making her think that somehow my mistakes were her fault and that she owes me. Which is really wrong. And she knows that. I… I think? But knowing and feeling are such different things! So… maybe this was intentional? A first step? A gesture of action where words are hard and songs dangerous?

Or am I reading too much into what was effectively the simple mistake of a girl fucking terrified of everything Tretion and Awnya told me they all just discovered when talking to that Reaver?

I turn these questions over and over while also considering all that, then offer them to my First Flame.

Peva seems unamused with my internal debate. His acceptance of her has been… really weird. Kinda scary, honestly. If it wasn’t for Lyra being the sweet girl she is I’d have worried that she’d don’t something to him and me and all our Sparks. Used some weird mix of Fae song to force us into being okay with her tendrils that so easily hug us all.

But… no. All he could really ever convey was that their ‘Spite would be wasted on her’.

Which… like her being from outside the Rifts and what Awnya calls the Dream would make that work. The Sparks are always on about Amwella being a stolen thing from them. So Lyra just… being new and sweet and kind to the Rifts might be something he just puzzled together along with the rest?

I wonder what would happened if she ever went to see the Dead Cin–

“Raska?” Tretion asks, and I know I’ve missed a question.

And… in the quiet, Lyra’s released my fingers from her nibbles and seems to pause in such a mess of emotions. Her Jellyfish, which is such a fucking adorable name for her children, nuzzle her and their other two mothers endlessly. Sensing all the anxiety and apparently trying to snuggle it from their family’s souls.

“Sorry. Was asking Peva things. What’s the question?” I look over Lyra, who moved to my embrace pretty quick when we entered this little Grove to talk in after their first meeting with that Reaver. And… like, I think I know why she wanted to sit with me? Breaks my heart. But… Also shows her finding new ways to deal with her feelings for me. Snuggle me close to make sure anytime she might feel panic or terror for my past mistakes… well… she can sense my calm love for her.

Awnya can’t help but huff and smirk at what must be such a blush on Lyra’s face, then look up at me. “Mostly just wanting your thoughts.”

I sigh and shrug. “Honestly… It’s all bad. But Theradas has always been a husk of a place. And the Rifts about it stink with the same. If a group as powerful as the Fae know and don’t act… well, too bad. Let it sink. Not worth the risk.”

“I…” Awnya runs her hands through her hair. “It might be terrible, yeah. A place full to bursting with the worst sorts. The rotting heart of slave trade. Most who wind up there are either wanting to hurt others… or sent there to be hurt.”

“But…” I wince. Thinking of what this place is. The kind of people who… who’ve made up its populace. Thousands and thousands of former slaves. All freed and given a safe place. Inspired by the girl I now hold close. Only manage to whisper weakly as I see Awnya's resolve to do something so stupid harden. “That’s not your fault. And… and you all would have to risk so much to even send messages to the Fae who’re more like to try and fuck you over than help solve this problem.”

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“Which is why we wouldn’t even consider asking for their help.” Tretion’s face is mostly blank, but her eyes and headstalks display a devious bubbling. “We’d treat this like any other Rift overrun with dangers and enemies. Our focus on those enslaved, and getting them into the safety of our manor.”

“A– and…” Lyra whispers. “H– h– help. Now. N– not j– just Awnya.”

Her Fae grins, despite the worry that shines in her eyes and probably soul, then nods. “Yeah. And more home to come back to than before. But… same promises. None of us are expendable. None of us can be left behind or risking ourselves to save anyone out there beyond what the others here agree to. We plan this out.”

“Wh– what?” I let my terror and worry and fucking… sheer anger bleed across my expression and Spark. “You can’t be serious. Talking to Thendra was one thing. Even like… trying to pass a message to the Fae or others I could get. But this… Are you really suggesting what I'm hearing?”

Awnya’s grin widens a bit. “Raid Theradas and her surrounding Rifts of every slave we can find? Tug em here and keep em safe while their old abusers and tormentors are too focused on us to notice the Rot sweepin’ in around their feet? Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Fuck.” I hiss. “This… but…”

“We’d been doing this for nearly a decade, Raska.” Tretion nods, “Started with a single wonderful Fae’s work, and grew a network of connections, allies, and information to gather up the people you now protect. And while we had many close calls… our Fae never was outmaneuvered.”

Awnya giggles. “Well… that’s not true. I was, on my last outing. But the girl who pinned me will be helping us.”

“I hardly think that counts,” Tretion nudges her. “And you were a bit out of practice and in a city ready and waiting.”

“S– sorry.” Lyra whispers.

I hug her closer, but Awnya leans forward to tip up Lyra's chin with a finger and dizzy her with a really unfairly gorgeous smile. “Hey. None of that. You’re forgiven. And I’m so very glad you caught me that day.” She whispers.

And… Lyra wiggles free of my arms and falls into Awnya’s embrace. Nuzzling close and murmuring little magicless things of love and thanks. All the while her tendrils are still grasping happily at mine and Tretion’s Amwella.

“And we’re going to take this slow.” Tretion adds. “We have a year to gather information, and we do not mean to risk our happiness recklessly. Only… keep to the purpose of this place. None of us would rest well thinking about all the slaves that’ll drown.”

I shake my head. “I… I’ll help. Of course. Just… I feel like we’re walking into such a trap.”

Awnya shrugs and hugs the girl in her arms closer. “Maybe. But… Thendra and I have Oaths traded. Neutrality and such. And that includes people I’m bound to. I’m pretty sure. And even if these little ones are all she cares about… she has no reason to try and interfere. If anything she might step in if the Fae become a problem. These Jellyfish… our children… If she really does want them safe then this manor is the best place for that. And we’re the perfect group to keep them safe and help them grow.”

That seems to steady Lyra, help her sit up straight and start thinking before she whispers. “R– riftwalk. F– fast. K– know th– that city g– g– good. C– can tell sl– slave fr– from o– others. S– souls h– hurting.”

Tretion nods, but carefully.

“P– people th– there sc– scared of me. Sl– slavers too, b– but mostly sl– slaves. C– c– c– called m– me D– de– des– so–” She huffs. “St– stupid name. B– but sc– scary.”

“And that was even before you slew that Rift’s Godling.” Awnya nods. “Now? Heh. I doubt any will think to so much as pull a blade if they can tell it’s you.”

“With Raska and myself we can also establish another safe Rift to use as a haven. Remove the chance of the Fae simply flitting here and causing problems if needed.” Tretion muses.

Awnya smirks in excitement. “If Lyra’s popping in and out that’ll create a ton of little tears, and her’s are really distinct. One or two could be followed, but dozens and dozens will fade before they could be mimicked.”

“My cousin Getrik’s Rift was always a place that despised slavery. I avoided using it before due to fear of our conflict being brought to her. But… it might work well. And It’s been years since you last brought her here for a visit, Awnya.”

Lyra perks up at that. “B– big Ww– Watcher? F– from before?”

“Mhm.” Tretion nods, scoots over to take up Lyra’s hand. “She’ll be overwhelmed to know that you’re back and safe.”

“Always liked her.” Their Fae agrees. “And she did beat the silence outta that cunt who was trying to follow me that one time. She’ll be a perfect ally for this. If she’s willing to help.”

“For me? For this? Definitely.” Their Watcher assures them.

I consider that, glance away while thinking. “I… I might have some favors I could call in. Siblings and Passing Flames who’s help could be bought. Maybe… well. I won’t promise anything, but my mums might be interested in an alliance with us. Fair chance they’ll be angry as all the Dead Cinders at me for skipping away without a trace. But… I could ask around. Test the embers about them.”

“That… Could be incredibly useful. You’ve always been my most reliable duenna.” Tretion nods thoughtfully. “I’d barter well for the chance to employ a soul with half your skills and devotion.”

I fight down the warmth in my cheeks at her praise, but something about that and her words and soul is making Lyra blush and grin and kinda… hide her face and…

“Yeah. And… Well…” I huff and press forward. “So Wren’s been pestering me about talking with you again. See if you’d be willing to let her help out more? I’d want to keep her away from any possibility of meeting the other Fae or going outside but… like… she’s stupid smart and really skilled and can kinda overpower me even. If she needs to.”

Tretion looks to Lyra. Who nods and whispers. “Sh– she good. Sw– sweet. Pr– pr– protected me. O– only kind.”

“She seems passionate, and even tempered.” Tretion agrees. “And from the skills you described her developing did peak my curiosity. I’d welcome her aid.”

“And lots of our old connections who settled down here will probably jump at the chance to help out.” Awnya adds. “Most hated the idea of us just… closing up and not saving more people. But understood why we had to do it after we lost so many in the raids on our settlements schemed out by two godlings.”

“And now you have me.” I grin, letting spark and eyes dance. “And I’ll burn any cunts who think to come after my charges. Fae, Reaver, or fucking godling.”