CW:

Um... pretty clean? Talking with family and scouting possible dangers. Talks with shards with links to an abuser.

Getrik’s grin is only outshone by the delighted glow of her soul as one of our Jellyfish easily works up the courage and interest to paddle across the room and nuzzle the big Watcher’s soul. Not for long, especially when Getrik reaches out with one of her own soul’s little extensions to try and touch our child, but… when they swim back to my core only happy gurgles are made.

“I never would have expected you to be the cousin to embrace so much… well, of this.” She sighs happily. “Family of your own finding and brewing. It’s wonderful to see.”

“Have you any word of other… things?” Our Tretion asks carefully from behind and around me as we share a big comfy chair. “Movements of the old brood or strange visitors?”

Getrik tilts her head and wiggly tendrils back and forth. “No more than usual. Haven’t seen a Watcher since… well… the one time. And you know about that. And No Fae or otherwise.”

Awnya sighs out a laugh, perched happily on the arm and back of the chair we sit in. “That’s… so good to hear. Actually. Because we had a big favor to ask.”

“Oh?” Getrik raises a bemused eyebrow. “I always offered my aid, so long as violence wasn’t the heart of your need.”

“Naw, mostly just wanting to use your Rift and home as a bit of ah… safe spot. To flicker about and avoid leaving a trail back to our home. After a while any songcraft we use will just kinda melt together and stop anyone from using them to track us, but… till then we’d like a friendly place to figure things out.”

“That, I would be delighted to offer.” She grins, nodding head and tendrils. “I’ve never been able to host either of you, even after all these years. Which is quite the shame see as how much effort I put into making this place comfortable.”

“We should have another place picked out before we start gathering the former slaves of Theradas, to be sure.” Tretion supplies.

“Nonsense.” Getrik refutes. “Let me gift you all stones of passage so my internal wards will let you pass, and you can bring them here before moving them back to your Manor.”

“You… you got the Riftwards up?” Awnya’s Golden eyes go wide in surprise. “When?”

“Two years past, and only for inside my manor.” She grins, “But, if you bear stones of passage tuned to them, I doubt even a Fae’s troublesome abilities will be able to slip past.”

“But… Getrik.” Tretion says carefully. “We’ll possibly attract worse sorts than Fae, and even your things of protection will struggle if they track us to this Rift. I… I do not wish to place you in the path of violence.”

The big Watcher leans forward, “Cousin, this is different. I… wish I had offered more in years past. You are all my family, and you mean to walk a path that bears little to no reward except the violence others will offer. And only then if they attempt to crack into my home.”

“It… would create a tricky web of protection.” Awnya muses. “One we can even test and measure. Both with my Riftwalking song and Lyra’s.”

Tretion huffs and wraps about me in thought. “At least let me see about laying some additional protections. Fortify your home for this, and after if someone comes sniffing for us.”

** ** **

It’s… in the quiet one night amidst our time at Getrik’s that I face the thing I’ve been terrified to think about. The… the betrayal I never told my lovers about, and the danger I hope never bubbles up.

Please, stay away? I beg, having nudged our children to tumble into my Beloved’s souls before crawling away. Not far. Just to sit at the foot of the bed. But…

The Fuzzy Spirit watches me. I was worried that it would be upset when I did this. Or mad when it understood what I’d let my Dark Goddess lay deep inside me. But it radiates just… more love. More understanding. Reflecting my hopes back at me alongside other scarier promises to help keep everyone safe.

It’s… It’s like they said. I growl after a moment to the dark shard settled deep within my soul. If you hurt them, or our children, I’ll never forgive you. Probably try to kill you.

As always, there’s no reply. But I can almost see her smirk at my threats, like the time so long ago when I demanded she not hurt Awnya. Amused that I would think my threats are anything but what she’s expected.

I know you don’t love me. But Undreka said that you love them. And… and you told me what that does to people we care about. How that love can hurt them. Awnya and Tretion think that’s cruel and stupid and you were just trying to control me but… but I get it. I think?

The Fuzzy Fae grumbles in wary warning at that. Nudging me with its own adorations and soft affections in gentle protest.

I grumble and nuzzle it back before turning back to the shard. Fine. Maybe I agree that it seems wrong, that you were probably just… just using the right words to keep me from giving up on living. But I NEED you to stay away from us when we come back to Theradas and start to gather up people, okay? Maybe only… only not if the Fae try something stupid? Get in our way?

Nibble on my lower lip, careful to keep my sea-bed’s wriggling worry and anxiety to not bubble up loudly.

Not in danger. Not breaking my promises!

In return I… Deep Breath. I’ll come find you. At the end. I can’t ever give you another Sunrise. But… but I want to see you. To say things and hear your explanations, before leaving forever to be with my Beloveds and Jellyfish. We’ll keep them safe. Give them a wonderful home and mothers and… and help them get bodies if they want!

Please? Just… please? Let us have this happiness?

** ** **

“Alright.” Our Fae grins, taking up my hand. “When you’re ready, say it all back to me. Then we’ll pop there and back.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I nod, and take a few minutes to force out the words.

No distractions. In. Look around. Let her know what I sense. Then out. Our disguises and her songs of hiding will keep us safe and unseen while I figure out what I can feel. Be ready to tell them everything when we get back.

Slow. We’re taking this very slow. Can’t risk anyone. Our happiness is more important than anything else. But not trying here would be against everything we are!

“If we see anyone on the list?” Raska asks from my other side.

Run. Shift about Theradas, then go to our in-between spots. Places I’d already sung little pockets of safety amidst the Blight–drowning Rifts. Then come back here.

Awnya nods. “And… who all is on the list?”

The Fae. Of course. Anyone who seems to notice her songs or us beneath them. And… and her. The big cunt. Or Bulderii. Or any Reavers that seem to notice us. Point out other stronger souls of interest too.

Awnya nods. Then looks over to where Tretion and Getrik sit. “Aaaand… You all?”

Tretion’s tendrils still wribble in worry over this split in our group, but she replies. “We wait here for your return. Of course.” Motions to the notebooks and maps. “When you all return we’ll begin to gather a census from Lyra’s observations of the city proper.”

Awnya sighs, “Yeah, but like… if things go sideways. We don’t make it back here right-quick?”

“We go back to the manor. Then I’m going to look for you myself.” Our Watcher gestures to one of the maps. “Starting with the agreed upon locations and in disguise. Duenna Drtipho waits in the manor’s entrance to come with us, and Wren will take up his post. If I can’t find you, I'll retrieve Yuna and have her take us to the Fae Woods to look.”

Don’t think about her. We… I’ve put off seeing her, and prossibly the others. Sevy and Zephin don’t worry me like… too much but also it’s going to be a mess and I need to focus on this. On… on keeping everyone safe! Coming home!

Jellyfish wriggle and snuggle close. We’ve thought about leaving them all with like… one person or two people but… that feels wrong. Even with my worries about more Spirits popping up and the worry about them fumbling things. My Fuzzy Fae has kinda promised to handle the rest alone after how bad the memories hurt last time but… I hated that. Told it that we’d fight or scare any and all of them off together! Nuzzled it so much until it calmed down and agreed. Bristling in all the things. Some bad but… most good.

And all love for me and our Jellyfish and our family.

“Good. Perfect.” Awnya grins. “And if things all fall apart we’ll improvise. Just… remember our promises.”

More hugs, kisses, and assurances. Then we adjust our clothes to cover faces, let Awnya wibble out a song of hiding that’ll stick to us through my Reaver’s Riftwalk, Take up her and Raska’s hands, and…

The Curse’s sting is annoying, but familiar. Almost comfortable and reassuring. And testing things with my weird Riftwalking has helped me get used to the melody after so long of it being smothered by the Manor.

First to a little in-between place. A pocket to trip up anyone who might be able to follow my songs. Then…

I’m home.

Wait. What? No.

“Lyra?”

Wonderfully wretched spice fills my nose as I stand with Awnya and Raska upon a little roof I was pretty sure would be abandoned. Naranggas flex out and wribble against the warm sandstone tiles beneath us. Amwella singing with the quiet tune I feel buzzing across everything and everyone through my Rift as–

“Beloved.”

I blink. Meet the gaze of the wonderful Fae who's taken my face into her hands and stares at me in worry. Whisper softly. “Muh?”

“Are you okay?” She asks.

I nod and squeeze her soul a little to feel her love and worry and steady focus. “Oke. J– just… lots of f– feelings. A– all at O– once.”

Raska stepped past her. Spark swallowed but glowing eyes glimmering as the Everflame looks all about the city.

“Alright. Yeah. Anything we should worry about?”

I close my eyes.

Focus. No distractions!!!

Jellyfish and Fuzzy Fae nuzzle close, but go still. Letting me reach out and consider…

But it’s so hard to ignore that song beneath everything! It’s… like it’s messy and horrid but it feels kinda perfect? And… and it’s like when I’d drink that vile brew but without the pain or drowning too-much of it all! I can feel SO many souls! Scurrying about the city and sands like little bugs. Start to understand their emotions and considerations and…

Oh.

“F– f– Fae.” I whisper.

Over a dozen. Some close together and some prowling or perched beneath their own songs of hiding. Looking for… something? Me?

Awnya goes stiff, song of hiding intensifying as she hums into the melody. “Where?”

“N– not… No s– see us.” I murmur as I focus on them. “Just… Ev– ever– e– where. Hiding. Lo– loo– looking.”

“Dreamer’s Tits… that… okay.” She huffs, glances back to Raska and her settling anticipation to burn. “Makes sense. Anything else?”

“N– no R– r– Reavers.”

That makes her pause. “Think they scooted off to let the city die?”

Shake my head. “N– no. Can’t f– f– feel ins– side home. F– fae a– are close. W– watching. W– waiting t– to p– pounce.”

Awnya nods carefully. “Yeah. This… huh. This could actually be a good distraction. Actually. Them all focused on the big cunt’s home and trying to ignore the wretched things happening around them. If we can keep your soul shrouded… Yeah. You feeling them so easily will make this simpler.”

Can’t help but bubble a soft thank you to the shard deep within my Amwella at the idea that… that she’s maybe helping us…

A pause, then Raska murmurs. “And that old Watcher’s Manor? How about in there?”

I focus. Trying to… to remember where it was. Hiss at what I feel.

“Lyra?”

“F– fae. In– inside. C– can f– feel R– r– ro… Ga– gate.”

“Dreamer’s Tits. They’re in the old Manor and found the Rorliras?”

I nod.

Raska snarls. “How easy could Fae use that place? Could they follow the path that Reaver took?”

Look deeper. Try and… and understand what these Fae are feeling. What they might be finding or…

“Thendra’s brood always… just smelled like Theradas.” Awnya huffs. “I’d guess they just mean to try and close it up but…”

“That’s not a no.” Raska murmurs.

“Yeah. It’s not.” Awnya sighs, looks at me. “We should leave. Plan our next steps. Make sure they can’t spill into the manor while we’re away. Lyra, you ready?”

In answer, I grab up Raska and Awnya’s hands, take a breath and… the song is easy. But… pulling away from Theradas is kinda hard. Feels… I dunno. Like my feet and heart and tendrils are sinking into mud. My everything taking a deep breath like I’m about to plunge into a river. I both hate it and want to stop and snuggle deeper into the muck.

But I keep my promise and skip us through the safety of some abandoned Rifts, and then we’re back at Getrik’s home. Tumbling happily into our Watcher’s arms.

“Was simple.” Awnya is saying. “But… apparently there are quite a few Fae lurking about. Keeping watch on Thendra’s home while also looking for Lyra.”

“That makes sense.” Tretion nods, pulling my head wrappings away and tugging me to sit with her in a big chair. “The attack in the Fae Wood would have scared them, and Undreka did mention that they freed the one hunting you. She’s being taken more seriously now.”

“C– could…” I murmur. “F– feel.”

“What else?”

“And… The Fae were buzzing about your dead Grandmother’s old home. Poking at the Rorliras.” Awnya hops up to perch on the arm. “There is a chance Undreka left a scent but… I think it’s a bit of a long shot. Those tunnels were a mess to navigate even for us, and we’d been pretty familiar with the tricks. A bunch of Fae without experience will be stumbling about for weeks, at least, unless they know what they’re doing. And even then I think they’ll just try to close it. That place does tunnel to other Rifts and when Theradas sinks… the Blight could flow through.”

Our Watcher nods, Amwella really not super worried. Just… annoyed as she sighs. “I’ll have the Manor be prepared to neutralize anything that tries to slip or sneak in. But… Honestly that somewhat feels the most expected of things. What else?”

Everything. I tell them how everything was so clear. About the brew I used to drink and how it made things like that but with pain and except there was no pain this time! And… and the song. The buzzy mucky melody that felt like it was inside everything and everyone there. How it was hard to leave.

“If your mantle is tied to Theradas… that could be part of the link.” Tretion muses. Already passed me into Awnya’s arms while she writes things down. “We’ll consider it closely as we work. But even if the worst should happen and you struggle to leave and the Rift sinks…”

“Bl– blighted O– ocean.” I giggle and grin. “C– can swim home.”

That makes her tendrils wiggle in such worry but… also relief.

“Yes.” She nods, Amwella twisting into a thing of a loving promise threat. “And if you don’t, I will discover how to Tune myself to survive that sea and come find you myself.”