Content warning:

-suicide ideation

-thoughts and descriptions of post assault trauma and memories of it.

“We’ll be activating the main runes in less than ten minutes Thendra!” Voe turns, all serious focus as she regards my mistress. “Be sure your Reavers are in a position to enter first and deal with anything.”

The same chamber we’d met up with a week ago is now dominated by a giant… thing, in its center. It looks like one of the seashells my mother had shown me, all twisting and marbled white against the dark brimstone of the Matron’s chamber. But its curves and twists are all wrong, and hurt the eye and mind when I stare too long.

“I know my task,” Thendra purrs, resting a hand on my head. “Just make sure the way is clear for us to Reave all in our path.

I lean into her touch, even let my eyes flutter shut for a second. Thendra has to notice the little rumble I let silently echo up through my chest.

She’s fed me to her Reavers every other night since the first. Let them tear into my core and consume almost everything I have. I know why now, I can see the difference in their souls. They’ve not grown bigger, but little slivers of dense vibrant color sparkle and enhance them. The women seem… more… somehow. Eyes seem to glow with extra light, seem to stand taller and move quicker and with more confidence.

The opposite is true for me.

Every morning after every feeding, Thendra would find me in that stairwell. At first I was terrified she would be angry, but she just… carried me back up to her chambers and tucked me into sleep the day away. Let my Amwella core restore itself to full before repeating it all.

I don’t think she knows about my singing afterwards. I almost told her a few times. Almost begged her to just… end me with sex amidst song instead of continuing this. But… She also given me all the sex and pleasure I want between it.

Between the feedings I am barely a person, a husk. Only alight with energy when it’s Thendra who embraces me. Begging her to just keep going… Once more, once more once more. Please please Ple–

...Or when I steal a song.

The black tint on my hands has grown as well. Spreading up to my knuckles in the past week. I showed Thendra, but she doesn’t seem bothered by it. So neither am I.

Thendra rumbles. A warning for me to pay attention. So I tear myself into alertness and continue to survey the room for possible targets for my songs. The Matron stands with four of her kin, slaves bustling about at their commands. Preparing the big shell for… something. The half face-horn lady stands in her full armor and weapon at the ready with a few other violent looking sorts.

And Adonie… Hate-filled Dreamer cursed cunt, they stand next to the Matron. Offering advice and council, words still tinted with little lilting sparks of Fae-Song. Eyes reach across the gap to bore into my soul. I hate them. Wish they’d just… stop looking at me! Stop glaring at me with such plain bitter hatred. I want to tell Thendra. Want to… I don’t know… ask her to make them stop. But she has to see it, right? So she doesn’t care.

So… why do I?

“Opening in thirty seconds!” Voe shouts.

Deep breath. Focus.

Old words are spoken, the air thumbs with… something. An echo of–

Then the hole that leads into the giant shell shimmers, and a rift swirls into focus. Beyond it are pearlescent winding pathways that twist and weave in all directions. The floors and walls are… wrong. Circular and edged and swirling. Thendra’s purr of action startles me from the thought, and then we are leading the Reavers into the rift.

Weight shifts, a pull and bout of vertigo and flush of nausea. Even Thendra stumbles at the change that time, but soon is recovered and supports me with a hand under my arm. Absolute quiet washes over our group.

There is a purr, a growl of tense anger from behind us. A Reaver speaks in their hushed flowing language. I understand enough of their tongue now to know their meanings. “Where are the others? Where is our exit?”

Thendra growls, low and steady. But even she seems muffled by this place.

I recover, blink, and look about. Sixteen possible… not twenty possible pathways. There are slips between the winding grooves of the hallway. No threats. Only Thendra and Bulderii stand next to me.

Bulderii’s bow is ready, an arrow notched. Her eyes roll about in a steady, but confused focus. Thendra doesn’t release me, opposite hand tensed and ready to explode into violence at a moment's notice.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Then the unnatural silence is broken by a reverberation through the grooved walls of the passages. As it passes over me I shudder at–

Fae Song?!?

While Thendra and Bulderii jerk at the melody, I can’t help but lean into it. Words stirring old memories and scars. Thendra holds me fast, eyes dart between me and the direction of the song as it ends.

“Lyra?” She purrs.

“It’s… that was…” I stammer. “That was Fae Song.”

She growls. “What did it sing of?”

“I… I don’t know.” I shake my head, focus on getting my balance. “I wasn’t ready for it. Didn’t catch any of the words.”

She considers, looks back to Bulderii.

Bulderii clicks her teeth, eyes continue to wander. “This is a maze, I think. We either prepare to kill something that sings Fae-Song, or try to find our own way out.”

Then the song returns, low and lilting. A song of worry, a warning of danger, and… and a call to join them?

“I… I don’t think whoever is singing wants to hurt us.” I murmur. “They… they’re calling for us to join them. Warning of danger.”

Thendra growls, “What danger?”

“I don’t know… I think…” I huff, annoyed at my lack of understanding of my mother’s tongue. Look around at the weird architecture that stings my mind to observe for too long. “We can’t stay here. This place is… it’s not for us.”

“Can you lead us?” Thendra glares in the direction of the song, “Be ready to counter any songs they might use?”

Then her Jade eyes turn to bore into me. Are you willing to kill one of your own kind for me?

I catch sight of my hand against a wall, of the black death that slowly consumes me. Think of the words that cause it. Cold anger sweeps into me, bitter rage at the race that sought to carve the songs from my heart. I give her a smile, disgusting focus dripping from it.

I would love to try.

Thendra returns the grin, nods, and we begin to move. The pathways are so very treacherous. They spiral and twist, gaping slits in the floor hidden behind grooves and turns nearly swallow both myself and Bulderii a few times. Thendra ends up keeping a hand hovering at my shoulder after the third time one of my feet steps into open air, nearly sucking me into nauseating depths. Every few turns we have to pause, wait for the song to guide us forward.

Then, after about an hour of following it, we find only silence. Thendra growls as we pause in a junction. My eyes twist about, trying to consider all possible paths and entrances a threat could come from.

Forty seven… no… sixty… no! Too many! I huff, and let the annoyance build. Raw emotion ready to split and cleave into one of my three words of torment. Then there is a shimmer in the corner of my eyes, too subtle to pinpoint. I jerk, ready myself for a command from my master. Thendra doesn’t seem to notice it, only shifts at my motion. A question in her eyes, but no hesitation.

“Sing, fear and pain.” She purrs.

I obey, scream agony and despair into the pathways near the shimmer.

Black cracks split from the floor from where my feet touch, spread out from my toes and follow the echoes of my song. Fingers go cold, but I don’t stop as I watch the pathways shudder under the–

Then there is a pop, a shift, and my songs reverberate back at me. I only have a second to brace before a deep terror slams into my chest, followed by a tearing across my flesh. Thendra moves to catch me, I think, but my song has to pass over her and Bulderii’s side to return to its origin.

“Stop!” Thendra shouts right before the curse would have punished me.

I collapse to the floor, writhing in pain and despair. Blood oozes from dozens of fresh wounds to stain the perfectly pearlescent floor. After a few moments, large hands close around my wrists, begin to lift me, and I am laid across Thendra’s shoulders. Blood drips from a few long gashes along her own arms and chest, but they are already closing. I’m barely aware that Bulderii is gone, and her bow lies abandoned by Thendra’s feet. The black cracks are also gone. The pathways stand healed of my petty wrath.

“I’d not recommend you sing of such horrid things.” A voice echoes from all possible directions.

Thendra growls in challenge, one hand holding me in place while the other is out, ready for violence. “Sing what healing you need.” she purrs at me.

I croak, and begin to obey with wheezing gasps. Songs to heal both body and mind. Words of home and love cause tears to sting my eyes, but otherwise steady my racing panicked thoughts. My healing isn’t instant, but will stop me from losing consciousness. My songs reverberate, wash over us both, as if the pathways wish to create harmony. Thendra silently commands me to stop.

I choke, have to spit blood and bile.

“Flesh Eater.” The voice returns once my songs have faded. But… I swear I notice another shimmer, and a familiar tune underneath their words. “You trespass on old paths not meant for your kind.”

“Then come and try to cast me out.” Thendra purrs.

A pause.

“I wish no harm on you,” They offer, voice soft and gentle. “I offer to guide you and your scattered pack from this place.”

Thendra pauses at that, glances back to the gaping maw I suspect swallowed Bulderii.

“They’re not lying.” I croak.

Thendra gives me a side-long look, meets my eyes.

“They are Fae.” I whisper. “Killing is against their nature.”

“Can you stand?” She murmurs.

“Yeah, just… hold me until the songs finish more of their work.”

She lowers me to the floor, keeps an arm under my shoulder for balance.

“Our benefactor seeks treasure and plunder from this place,” Thendra purrs to the voice, “And I am sworn to clear the way. What if we find ourselves at an impasse?”

A sigh in the air, then… “Your… ally, is correct. I will not harm you. But this place is not for your kind. Only those who understand and know its beauty can navigate it.”

“Then we will return, and keep returning until we fulfill our contract. Next time you may find yourself under my mercy.” Thendra purrs, “Why not negotiate? Work out a trade with our employer?”

A laugh, all bitter and sad. “That can be arranged.”

Thendra nods, “Lead me and mine to an exit, and we can relay this to her.”

“I demand a boon from you,” The voice returns. “A show of penance and payment, a sign of good faith.”

Thendra raises both arms, palms open and empty. “I brought only violence with me.”

“Yes, but also a great deal of suffering.” The voice turns… hard. Bitter. “Leave this Fae with me.”

A cold silence. Thendra tenses, I clasp at her muscled arm.

“She’s not for sale.” Thendra growls, fists beginning to clench and stretch.

“It’s not her life I want, slaver.” The voice returns with venom, “It would be her freedom.”

That word… it… it doesn’t register at first. Freedom? What would… What would that look like? What would this Fae want with my freedom?

Then… something clicks in my memories, finally. The voice, the song, Aldonie’s eyes and glare. I recognize them at last. Know why their anger was so vibrant and familiar.

I’d seen it before, years ago… when I lost everything.

“No.” I hiss, loud and angry. Would be unleashing a song unbidden if it's not for Thendra’s hand on me and the still healing spasms of pain.

A long startled pause is my reply.

“Keep your freedom. I don’t want it.” I nearly scream.

Thendra doesn’t stop me, doesn’t restrain or punish or even growl as I step forward and shout into the horrid pathways.

“You drove me from happiness once,” I hiss, “I’ll not let you tear it from me again!”

Then I hiss the Fae words at them, tossing them like a curse only they could possibly understand.

“Beloved sibling.”