CW:

Soul examinations and talk of slave bindings! Big gooey snuggles from a slimegerl!

“Is this alright?” Wren asks.

Fight to stay focused. To ignore… ignore how wonderful her everything feels!

And hope so much I’m not distracting her.

This solid soul I couldn’t get enough of years ago. So cold and soft and endlessly–

“Lyra?” Awnya nudges, bubbling with a little worry.

“Y– yeah.” I blurt out and try not to curl everything in on myself to try and hide the heat I feel rising on my cheeks. “F– f– f– f– fine.”

“Okay.” She smiles and reaches out to take up my hand.

I’m… well, Wren thinks she sees something. But… only the shadow of it. Or something. And insists it's not the two extra spirits or little Jellyfish still too small to leave the mebe parts of my soul. We’ve had Furthonois and the fuzzy Fae wiggle into the mebe parts for now while all our big Jellyfish paddled into the embrace of my Beloveds’ souls.

So the next idea was to just kinda have me stretch out my Amwella and… um… well just sit in her lap while she holds me from behind. Gooey limbs kinda wrapping around while she carefully pressed her chest against my back.

“Okay, so… Would you be alright with me feeling around a bit now?” Wren murmurs.

Nod once. Not trusting my voice to avoid being a mess.

And… so carefully and slowly this gooey soul starts to… well… nuzzle my Amwella. She doesn’t need to check my tendrils, so they’re free to wiggle about, but… but she’s touching the center of my soul. Less now but… but…

Can’t suppress a little giggle and twitching of my everything when she rubs a sensitive spot.

She pauses. “Sorry I… is this…?”

“Li– lll– little.” I whisper and fight to sit as still as possible. “B– but oke. C– can k– keep going.”

Tretion lets out a huffing chuckle at that, soul bubbling with a bit of relieved delight. “I was not aware that souls could be ticklish.”

“Definitely gonna keep that in mind.” Our Fae mumbles to herself.

Which just… makes my cheeks flare with more warmth as Wren continues her probing and prodding and feeling of my soul. Doesn’t take long though. For her to stop again and lean around to try and meet my eyes.

“Okay. I’m in the right area, I think.” She states. “But… So this shard is weird. Like when trying to catch something in the waves of an ocean. Would you be willing to use your tails to help me like… catch it?”

Go still. Look to Tretion and Awnya as fear begins to bubble.

“Just to hold it still, Beloved. So we can examine it.” Our Watcher replies carefully. “Nothing more for now unless you think it safe and agree.”

And… she’s not lying. Isn’t… isn’t planning to try and have Wren pull it out.

Awnya squeezes my hand in support and glows with unsung songs of anticipation. Raska bubbles in… weird emotions at that. Five spirits in her burning all sorts of ways but… Doesn’t say anything.

So I nod. Curl a few smaller tendrils around and about to carefully fold back into my soul. Let Wren’s wiggly gooey limbs shift to follow gently beside like a little fish beneath a big leviathan. Swirl into the deeper parts, to… towards the shard.

She’s right, of course. It’s like chasing a slippery small fish in a twisting river. But… The water is me too so I still things for a second. Wrap around the shard so very carefully. Hold it still.

Feel the odd buzzing song. No thoughts or anything just… the little fuzzy feeling of the raging storm that is my Dark Goddess.

“Okay. Perfect.” Wren murmurs. “Now, pass it to me.”

Never held it like this. Can’t help but… but find the little radiating melody from it just… perfect.

A little piece of Thendra buried deep inside me. A promise.

Shake my head. Curl tendrils about it tight. “J– just l– look.”

Everyone pauses for a second at that. Amwella wriggled like a worried and kinda annoyed bird. Except Wren, she just… bubbles in somethings I can’t read.

“Alright. Okay.” She agrees, then looks to Tretion, Awnya, and Raska. “Can um… can you see anything?”

“Nope, not even a little bit.” Our Fae answers.

“Not at all.” Tretion confirms. “My... I’m barely able to make out the shapes of her tendrils that deep.”

Everyone looks to Raska then.

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“Not sure.” She finally murmurs after a few seconds of hard looking, eye’s locked on the area where I clutch the shard. “Like you said, Matron, this deep in the blaze everything is moving and shifting and already a mess. Her tendrils are obviously gripping something. And it must be dense and heavy as the cold rock bitch themselves to avoid cracking apart at that depth. And… and that’s not even considering how it survived all Lyra’s Blight Weaving.”

“You said this came from that Reaver right? Thendra?” Wren asks. “Like… From her soul?”

“Yes.” Tretion answers.

“What kind of magic did she use?” Wren leans back a little and to the side to look about us. “Knowing how she did this will be super useful. Might just be a weird twist on Ukalon’s magic, or… maybe even Everflame things.”

Bite my lip and keep my eyes locked on my stupid talons that grip Awnya’s so tight.

I’ve avoided telling them as they ran their tests. Even when Awnya asked me directly more than a few times. Even… even made sure to let me know that understanding the how could avoid needing to see Wren again.

But… Couldn’t get the words out. Tried at least a dozen times but just… The stupid tongue won’t let me get more than a few ordered in a row! How… how she… she grew those weird tendrils and shoved them into me. Deeper than probably was safe. Stabbed all the way into the core of my everything. And just… broken part of herself off there.

And enjoyed doing it. Felt so much actual Dreamer Blighted Pleasure in those moments. Like… Like I’ve never seen her feel before or sense! Never been allowed to even try!

How… how much pleasure it brought my Dark Goddess to give me this.

But… also on the night after I lost my Tretion.

How much I don't want her to know what I gave away so quickly after losing her.

“That… yes.” Tretion replies carefully, eyes dimming to show her loss of Amwella sight to meet my gaze. “We’ve… It was a traumatic time and our Beloved struggles to explain.”

“So… We’ll do this backways.” Awnya leans forward and down to catch my gaze, lifts fingers up to her lips for a careful kiss. “Alright love? Would you be okay with Wren poking that Shard a bit? Not taking it away. Just… getting an idea of the texture and if it feels a way or so?”

Take a deep breath… and nod. Then whisper. “Oke.”

Peek up to give them all a hopefully confident smile. Tug the shard up so Wren can reach easier. She pauses, but nods and leans forward again. Reaches out to run smooth limbs gently across my tendril and down until she finds… It?

So weird. She’s found the shard now. Is poking it and rubbing it like others might between two fingers. But…

“It’s… squishy?” She whispers, rippling in obvious confusion. “And… huh. Seems to be kinda… like…”

She freezes. Form turning more dribbly than ever.

“Like what?” Raska presses. “Talk to me girl. What’s it like?”

A pause, and then she murmurs softly. “Me.”

I… what?

“In what fashion?” Tretion asks before anyone else can.

“A… Porously weighted physical substance.” She mumbles. “Made of Amwella. But… concentrated. Soulflame feels like warm ashes to me, this feels… textured. And there is an order to it. Also… holes. Little ones. Constantly seem to be drawing in a little bit of Lyra.”

“Wait, it’s taking bites off her?” Awnya very nearly yelps. Careful worry almost snapping to cold dread.

“No. Just…” Wren waves a spare limb in negation. “Only a very small amount seems to be absorbed. No damage from what I feel.”

“Anything coming out of it?” Raska asks quietly.

Soul a twisting mess of worry. And at her question I see everyone else wiggle with the same fear of that.

“Not that I can feel.” Wren answers, still nudging and feeling and poking at the shard. “Just… Absorbing about as much as everyone seems to lose throughout the day. Like sparks off a flame. I… think if it did that, or anything other than absorbing, it would probably fall apart. Things this delicate are woven to be strong only one way.”

That makes everyone relax so much to hear.

“Alright.” Awnya sighs, squeezes my hand. “Okay. That’s… Basically confirming everything ya told us. No backways influence. Thank the Dreamer’s Rotting Tits for that.”

Lean into her touch. And let a tendril snuggle her and Tretion’s Amwella and our Jellyfish snoozing within. Bask in this sudden burst of relief.

Even… even as a part of me Wishes that mebe I could hear and feel things coming from this shard.

Ask more questions. Get more answers.

“This… um… This is still really bad.” Wren whispers. “Worse than um… well almost anything else I’ve felt in others. Ukalon Feathers or other woven slave collars. Just… um…”

Naranggas twitch at that. Wanting to scream.

Not A SLAVE!

But…

But I am. Or… or was?

Still not sure how to make sense of my feelings and Thendra’s words and actions and… and…

Takes me a second to realize that Wren’s gone totally quiet. Has gently pulled back but… doesn’t release my tendrils.

Or the shard.

“Yes. Lady Wren.” Tretion sighs a little while moving up to sit closer to me. “We’re aware.”

A pause, and then Wren presses carefully. “Okay so… We can get this out. Right now. Lyra or me. Would hurt a bit but even someone without her special soul or songs could heal quickly.”

Twitch a bit at that, hard. Move to pull back from her but…

Wren doesn’t let go. I mean… She Isn’t gripping super hard. And not… I know I could tug away. Or peel her off me. She’s not even bracing like I think she could to make it a real contest. Is just…

Scared? Desperate? And… other things? Still am trying to understand what all her gooey wribblings mean.

“Wren…” Raska murmurs gently, lays a hand on one of the gooey girl’s limbs.

Things that are hard for me to think about.

“No. Raska. They… they need to understand.” She hisses, obsidian eyes locked on mine. “Lyra. This… You really really need to get this out. Or let me do it. Please, just… just tr...”

I shake my head, and she trails off before she can say that last part.

Tretion picks up Wren’s dropped words, pulling me to settle in her lap while letting tendrils and arms wrap about in a soft embrace. “We know. Have met the cruel woman who laid this and seen how she considers our Beloved.”

“So you know what these… these kinds of things are meant to… to do!?!” Wren replies, voice a messy blubber between a snap and a growl.

“Wh– what?” I whisper into the tense silence, try to… to understand the meaning behind those words from the way all their souls twist and writhe.

Let her see into me? Why… Well I mean I know why my Beloveds hate that but why would Wren care?

Awnya nods carefully, even speaks slower than normal. Tone even and voice lacking her normal bubbling and vibrant lilt. Totally opposite to how her Amwella dances in worry and annoyance and a bit of anger. “We’ve helped souls tied with worse over the years. And you said herself that this doesn’t have anything bleeding into her Amwella, right?”

“Yes. But that… You’re close to her. I can see your marks all over each other.” Wren snaps, letting that sink in before her voice drops to a pained whisper. “How can you… you feel her and sit here like… like… this is all okay? Something you shouldn't get out of her right away!?!”

“Well, because she's safe.” Awnya replies easily. “Can’t rush this kinda thing. Do and… Well, souls tend to slip backways pretty easily. Gotta take careful steps.”

“Not with this. Not when–”

“Wh– wh– what!?!” I growl, hard. Get everyone to just… stop.

Stop talking like I’m not here.

Wonderful Fae turns to smile a bit sadly at me, “Sorry girl, should… probably explain what this type of thing is. And… why it’s used. Didn’t wanna go over all the possibilities until we knew more.”

“I… O– oke?” Is my confused reply.

A pause as my Beloveds look to each other. Both souls bubbling in a simple question I can read off their souls and faces really easily.

Who should start explaining this?