CW:

Attempts to like... okay so its both murder, personality death, detransitioning, soul harvesting, and just rude tied up with roots that also go down your throat to stop singing all at once. Jellyfish eating Fae. Um... vomiting!

We coo we growl we hiss we scream for her to let us out and Shift away and wake up because if the stupid little Fae doesn’t we’re going to die or worse be unwoven and broken and left to burn wrong forever and ever and we won’t let that–

We’re howling before I even wake up.

At least… on the inside.

Roots hold everything else totally still. Even our Naranggas. Soul tendrils wrapped tighter and harder and worse than even Thendra did when she wanted us to kill Tretion.

Flesh finally stirs. But that part of us will be useless for another few heartbeats.

W– wait.

No.

I… I’m…

Pull myself from the smothering mess that strains within the mebe parts of my soul. It’s… so crowded. Bloated like some well fed tick.

“Is she truly secure?” A muffled voice attached to a soul writhing in fear and hope and other messier emotions asks.

“As much as we can do so without peeling at her Amwella.” A reply like heavy glass on wood responds.

“Good. You have our thanks for that, and… for stepping outside the old Oaths to ensure this was done.” The muffled voice replies.

Body isn’t hurting but… Can’t move or really feel anything. Even my thoughts are slow and stuck in muck.

Fuzzy Fae and Jellyfish and Furthonois are safe. Scared and angry but… quieting. Kinda helping me adjust and figure out how to like… find out what’s happened.

Eye’s struggle to open. Blurry shapes slowly slowly coming into focus. Mouth is held shut though.

More words happen while I blink away some of the muck and adjust. Trying to understand where I am and what’s happening.

“Wait. You’re leaving?” The soul with lots of worry sputters in surprise. Body finally gurgling into focus to show…

Opherity. The old Fae lady Awnya and Tretion was arguing with when Raska and I found them.

“Yes. Why would we not?” Voice steady and cold and Amwella that weird reflective twinned mess of spinning sharp edges replies.

That’s Dreadweave. At the edges of what’s not a fuzzy mess for my eyes to see.

“You… This is important. A moment of rekindling for all the Dream.” The Fae presses. “Ukalon does not surprise me with their lack of perspective around this but… you strike me as a being that has stood and watched this Dream shift many times over. Is this event not worthy of your presence?”

Cold fear begins to run through me.

All the words and memories and… and… They caught me. I’m… They’re gonna unweave me. Or… or do worse and… but…

“No.” Dreadweave replies after a moment.

And then is gone before I even realize that weird glimmering across the twinned refracted soul is a Riftwalk.

That helps me calm… at least a little. Not enough to stop me from twisting and trying to scream and break free. Biting at this weird root thing that’s in my mouth and apparently winding down my throat a bit and… and…

“Shhh…” Opherity is whispering softly but… not kindly. There is only disgust for me rippling across her soul.

Didn’t even realize she moved closer to the wall they rooted me to.

“Lyra, struggling won’t help.” She murmurs, hand at my cheek but not touching.

I glare, hard.

“It… really is a shame.” She winces and sighs. “That your mother didn’t bring you straight to us. Let us elders properly see that your flame was well kindled and kept. Perhaps… Then your Blights could have been settled. Letting us do this differently.”

I try to hiss and spit and growl but… even those sounds are completely muffled.

The Fae pulls back. “Do you… Did Awnya tell you why we need this? Even present you with an understanding?”

I let my panic still. Considering…

Beloveds and Raska won’t stop looking for me. Maybe even…

Pour all my fears and pains and pleas to that little shard within my soul.

Hoping someone somewhere will come save us.

Time. Need to just… get them all more time!

So I try to look less angry and more curious.

Opherity huffs and nods. “Thought not. Her father and she tended to focus their work on more… sporadic tilling methods. Closing pathways like that Watcher found and such. Even pointing Uldra toward dangerous Blighted sorts. But never the slow tending to the blazes. Does… does this make sense?”

Kinda nod with my eyes. Ignore all the mucky memories that bubble up behind her words. Keep her talking!

“Good. Clever girl. Because I know you feel the Dream’s End, more than us Fae even. Drowning in pain and misery and… and all the bad stuff like you are. Calling the Rot and Ruin to come sweeping in like some big wave from the sea at such slight pricks of pain.”

I go back to glaring, just a little.

“This is why we don’t give Humans or Cinderkin or Watchers or other messy sorts in the Dream Fae sparks.” She continues, with an almost sad smile in response to my bubbling anger. “None of you can be trusted with it. All… messy with Blights you’ve grown up with. Cultivated like some foul garden waiting for rotted fruit to ripen. Ready to Ruin the Dream and the songs the rest of us have spent a few eternities trying to keep clean.”

More souls begin to approach from upward and farther away. Fae, from the little I can sense. Following twisting passages that all seem to swirl towards this place.

“And while plenty have the good sense to end the suffering before spreading their nonsense, most don’t. Not like us Fae. Taught and woven to wither the moment such things take root. Our songs of shaping naturally knit with the opposing melodies of unweaving.”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Start to panic. Realize from the wrigglies in her soul what this is. What she’s doing. How… how I’m… I’m not…

“But not you.” She murmurs, but… with nothing but scorn and sadness. “Because you’ve been spreading Rot and Ruin and Blights before you even touched this Dream, haven’t you? Cursed in ways we can barely understand.”

Struggle. Get out. Bleed BLIGHT!

“Yuna probably tried her best, but was selfish and foolish to do think she could make a happy daughter out of you.” She whispers. “We could have done this with so much less cost. Stopped you from Blighting so many with your misery.”

Glare harder as nothing bubbles up. No beloved sea. No muck. No blood turning to blight or hissing songs of Dreams End as… as…

The others are here. A vibrant group of about half a dozen with flesh and shapes as diverse as I’ve ever seen. But… I can’t even admire or despise these Fae for the comfort their shapes bring them.

Because within their Amwella are the songs they mean to weave together over me.

Jellyfish titter such worry. Fuzzy Fae hisses and growls and strains against the edges. Furthonois wincing in understanding.

[I’m so sorry, dear.] My Keshada murmurs. [Thank you for… for trying to protect me.]

No. No no no no! Please! We… we just have to keep her talking! Give everyone more time to… to come save us!

“But now we can set things right.” Opherity nods to the group as they begin to raise voices in song. “Peel you from that mantle. Let the flame you brought to our Dream kindle to blaze as bright as we can. Burn away all the nonsense. And forge a new Wood for the Fae to thrive within.”

Tears of blood and blight and fury and all my fear and anger finally pour out. Even sizzle and burn at the roots.

But the Fae only seem to expect this.

Letting their songs rise in opposition to the Blights.

Using the radiating pain they see as a guide to begin cleaving away at my Amwella and form with their harmonies.

It’s… nothing like Ganzorig’s melody was when he tried to unmake me. Awnya’s dad thought I was just a silly girl given a bit of Fae flame by my mother. So… he just tried to smother it by burying it all under a mountain of song. Like dropping a bucket of dirt and rocks on a fire.

It kinda worked.

But the problem, as Awnya tried to explain one night when I couldn’t stop falling into tears over his memory in her arms, was that the Fae spark he was trying to smother wasn’t an addition to me. Wasn’t the little gift Fae parents give to their children.

It was me, and he’d have killed me if it somehow got fully smushed. Which he would have realized and stopped before.

These Fae aren’t making that mistake.

No they’re cutting at me like… like…

What?

Oh Dreamer’s Tits does it hurt.

But this is exactly what Thendra did.

What her Reaver’s did.

Cutting and carving and slicing chunks away.

These Fae are just more… precise? Actually trying to find the lines between me and the mantle I consumed.

But… Where would they even…

For a few seconds of song woven pain I think they’re just gonna let the pieces peeled off me rot. But… No.

They’re feeding them to the tree. Letting it drain the soulfire away.

Keep fighting. Keep struggling. Keep… keep…

But what’s the point?

I slump as much as the roots allow, letting my everything fall into despair. Part of me hoping… but no.

It’s too late.

The Fae use that to guide their songs too. My sadness and tears and helpless silent whimpers an opening to slowly begin unraveling my tied Naranggas. Dissolving them like so much snow under the blazing sun.

I’m… they’re… I can’t stop them.

Leaving me shivering and weeping without even a hint of pity.

The harder I fight. The more this Dream hurts me.

Always…

That makes me angry again. Boils that despair to bite and hiss and scream and tear at everything.

Rage at the life that won’t stop hating me.

Without even meaning to, straining to clear a pathway from the mebe parts of my soul so Jellyfish and Fuzzy Fae and Furthonois can slip free if they want to.

Burning with all the fury of a girl denied just… life.

The Fae notice something is wrong when my Fuzzy Spirit wraps about my Soul like a cloak of angry bristling fur. Protecting me from their songs. The Fae begin humming questions into their melodies for the odd shapes they see begin to ward me from their work. Blocking off a lot of their peeling song and hissing soundless fury.

Happiness.

Jellyfish begin to hiss and spit and howl all the things I can’t. Chirping my fury while paddling closer to the Fae.

Things I won’t let my children be robbed of.

The song trips over itself as the weavers begin to thrum with worry

Will teach them how to hunt and bite before foul sorts would take advantage of their soft kindness.

As that thought bubbles through my soul. The first darts forward. Sinks teeth into Opherity’s Amwella. And her screams end the song as the rest of the clutch dart forward to slam into her. Taking such… huge bites of this Fae’s core. Each chomp splattering the room with sparks of soulflame.

The rest of the Fae panic. A few try to weave songs of something to stop them but…

Opherity’s place is this Dream has ended, and my little ones are already darting after their next feast. Consuming the rich and wonderful soulflame of this gaggle of Fae while my Fuzzy Spirit and Furthonois tug and pull and even tear a bite at my tendrils knotted mess.

A few of the older Fae find a song that begins to wrap around my Jellyfish. Almost working to pin them so the rest can regroup and figure out what's happening.

Ignoring the mother who just got a limb of furious soulflame loose.

Whip Crack Snap.

Children are free to tackle their next meal as the one touching them with songcraft falls dead. His fresh and wonderful flame quickly dissolved and rewoven to restore the raggedy bits of my soul.

Snap Whip CRACK!

Shivering with the warmth these stupid Fae tried to peel off me.

Crack Snap SNap SNAp SNAPSNAPSNAPSNAP!!!

And…

Jellyfish wiggle back to nuzzle close. Radiating warmth and love and protective everythings for me. Glowing a bit brighter than ever as their forms blaze with the glow of freshly consumed tasty Fae Amwella.

All dead. They’re dead. Stupid Fae are dead and their souls are melting into my Amwella and… and I still can’t move.

Struggle and bite and hiss and spit and let Naranggass flail about like… like…

Memories of my Dark Goddess ripple through my mind. Of how she supported her big pretty body after she lost a leg. How… How she somehow would grow those wiggly black tendrils between her legs to fuck with!

She never needed a Song for that.

How… I turn the thought over to the Fuzzy Fae. See if it knows how to do that.

It sways in though. Shares some ideas. But…

All of them require lips and Fae Song.

So I turn my focus to Furthonois.

[I… So now that you’ve freed me from your inner Spirit I’ve no idea what you're thinking.] She explains. [Let me back in and we can share more freely.]

I consider that, ask the Fuzzy Fae what it thinks.

Warnings. But… not so much for her. It’s bigger and can bite if she tries to hurt me. And is pretty sure that even if it wasn’t there I’d pretty easily be able to shove her out again.

But others… we gotta keep them from the Mebe Parts.

So I agree and scoop up this pretty Keshada again, then let her wiggle swim and glide back into the spots where I shoved her before Dreadweave snatched us up.

Then I share my ideas.

[Oh! Yes. That. Hmm… I think I know the basics. Never needed it myself when Keshada Venom was so potent. Buuuuut…]

She shares with me the thoughts about weird icky spells that hurt to…

Oh.

No, these don’t hurt at all!

Just… wow these are SO messy! Nothing like Tretion’s cute tools or Awnya’s dagger or even that sword I used to kill you!

Furthonois chuckles, even at that last part that would have upset so many others.

Need to just… reweave them a bit and think in inside out shapes and numbers with Furthonois’ help and…

A crack of thunder, and a Naranggas is wreathed in ruthless violet lightning. A screaming howling erratically pretty twisting that makes reaching down to pull all these stupid roots away easy as wiping muck off toes.

Wood melts more than it tears or burns. The worst part is the mess they shoved into my mouth and throat. It… it has these little prickly bits that bite and tear and it's better to just almost swallow my Naranggas for a bit to melt it all into ash so I can vomit it up.

Choke and cough and spit out the gross tasting mess as I struggle free of the withered bindings and stumble to the floor.

Take a few deep breaths through my freed mouth and begin to gurgle some songs of healing and energy and hiding and… then a Riftwalk.

Curse bites, hard. But… push through.

Need to go ho–

But the tree and Rift and everything all around me begins to shake in warning. And my Naranggas senses show all the wood around me beginning to fill with things.

Vines and roots begin to crack free and reach toward me as one again my song is smothered by… something.

I cut off the Riftwalking melody and flair out tendrils wrapped in Amwella lightning to fight it all off but… They still, then fold away.

Can’t help but growl at that.

[Ah, a living ward against skipping in and out. At least for anyone but Dreadweave.] Furthonois sighs. [That’s unfortunate, but it seems tied to this place. If we can find a way out to the wider Rift we should be able to leave.]

Sigh and think wordless agreements and… and thanks.

This pretty Keshada wiggles happily at that, then she and my Fuzzy Fae nuzzle close as I step over the cold Fae corpses and head toward the passageways that hopefully will lead us out of this place.