CW:

Preeeeeeeeety clean? wow and wow? WELCOME TO CHAPPY the SECOND of ARC 4!!! RASKA POV!!!

“Yeah… Can see them now, Mictrikia.” I huff, let spark spit and dance in open worry. “Gonna be a fun mess to untangle. My favorite kind.”

“But is it true?” My sibling presses.

They’re… like me. Kinda. Built themselves that body they wear, mostly. Did it thicker than I’d ever do, though. Lots of spare muscle and a thicker frame than I wanted. No hair though. With seven sparks burning bright. Last I heard they had three within happily supporting them in everything, as opposed to the seven that now do. And… red Spark-flame eyes that burn brighter as they fall on the girls I pointedly stand in front of and with.

A Watcher, and… without eyes on her headstalks. But standing clutching an artifact that growls with the weight even I knew not to test when I first saw it.

And a Fae, soul bearing scars to anyone knowing where to look but… still burning strong. Something most other of her kind can’t survive or do.

“Yeah, we’re hers. Fully.” We reply without hesitation or regret. Mostly just Pevatorii and me but… the others grumble and burn in mostly agreement to that. “Oaths and all sorts spoken and burned into our Amwella.”

No room to tell anyone otherwise. Even if I was just… some honored duenna. Make sure any thoughts of tugging at my loyalty get smothered right quick.

“Really…?” Mictrikia murmurs, still grinning. “You helped kill Furthonois too?”

“No, not at all. But it’s a bit of a story and I’m only her duenna.” I reply, turn to half motion at the others. Can’t help but smirk a little as I spot Lyra’s curious but calm expression from within her shrouded songwork. “Matrons Tretion and Awnya, this is Everflame Mictrikia. Envoy to… to the Matriarchs of Evermore Countless Sparks.”

Biggest meanest gathering of bitches in those Rifts, besides Dreadweave. Dozens of kids brewed and blazed to help them secure such a hard rock of power on their side of the Dead Cinders.

Can see Awnya not really absorb the importance of that, but Matron Tretion does. And was aware before today of my parentage.

“Welcome to Theradas, Mictrikia.” Our Watcher Matron offers.

“I’d tell you to mind the sand and storms,” Awnya adds with a grin. “But… from what we’ve heard you burned right through them to come say hi and hello.”

“Wouldn’t be much of an Envoy if a little river of Blight could wash us away.” My sibling chuckles. “Was sent here to follow my wayward sister’s soot trail and see what the new Godling of the Rifts is like. Didn’t expect to hear about a Watcher, Fae, and an Everflame working together to help soften the sands with enough water to let anyone wanting it to take a mud bath.”

“This Rift’s ills were… a collection of long festering problems.” Tretion replies. “The lack of water was one of the largest, but quite easily addressed by her Goddess’ abilities. As was the removal of… quite unsavory sorts. Souls that made a business or otherwise of feasting on those within. As of about a week ago, no slaves exist here. And none under our protections will be returning to captivity.”

“Heard that too.” They reply. “And gotta say… that won’t sit well with the other two Godlings.”

“No, it didn’t.” Our Fae Matron shrugs. “But our gerl’s already kicked the feathers outta Ukalon, the Fae elders, and as for Dreadweave… I doubt they’ll press the issue at this point.”

My sibling cackles at that, nodding. “Fair enough. But what I’m burning at is that if you’re gonna go blazing opposite to the other Godlings, best to make a few allies. My mothers would adore the chance to support and aid Dreadweave’s fellow Goddess in acting against the cold rock bitch’s interests.”

“We’d welcome the chance to discuss such things.” Matron Tretion acknowledges. “We’ve found only enemies among the established powers.”

“Heard as much. Alongside… other interesting muses. About this new Goddess.” Mictrikia replies. “Some insist she is a Reaver. Dangerous, but stable, and well-fed enough to betray and kill the Godling she worked for.”

Glance back to see Lyra go still as her Beloveds look to each other. Not sure what to offer on that when pressed.

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“Her past is messy, Mictrikia. Like yours is. And mine.” I offer in the pause. “We’re just a bunch of gerls trying to leave the Dream better than we found it.”

That makes them tilt their head in confusion, grin fading.

Takes me a second to catch why.

Talkin’ like Awnya and Lyra do. Mentioning the Fae’s broken Dream.

“You really have changed, haven’t you?” They murmur after a bit.

“Yeah… Just a bit.” I reply with an easy shrug.

“Honestly, I’m just surprised to see you in the same room as one of the Fae, much less… an ally to her.” They press.

“Like to think I got at least a little smarter along the way too.”

Don’t miss Awnya smirk when she adds from behind me. “Just a little.”

Mictrikia chuckles again, all worry gone or smothered. “Would love to meet this Godling that helped make that happen. See the kinda gerl that settled you to think before burning a cunt to ashes. Even got you to swear Oaths to her and abandon your titles and holds without word or warning.”

“Honestly, Mictrikia? They offered me things our moms never did.”

They make a clicking sound with their cheeks and teeth, then ask. “And that was…?”

“Safety for my gerls. Without reservations. Total and complete isolation from any conflicts they asked me to be a part of. Promises to burn any cunt that thought to hurt those I claimed. Even family.”

“Huh… And this Goddess can promise that?”

“Not alone, no.” Tretion steps forward a bit to stand at my side. Leaves Lyra with Awnya. “But I’ve the means for that. Even before being claimed as Beloved Bound to the Goddess. And together that promise of safety to those protected by us is only more absolute.”

Tied together in all things. As tightly as possible for those bound. And when the one doing the binding has… Really messy and scary and strong Fae song Curses, that’s what is used.

That makes Mictrikia’s eyes widen a bit, “Dreadweave’s Cold Rock arse… really? Not just some Treasured Ember?”

“No. I am claimed. As is Matron Awnya behind me.” Tretion chuckles, reaches up to pull aside her cloak’s collar to reveal the Curse on flesh. One that’s… very different from any others I’ve seen our girl do. Instead of angry and red and seeming freshly scarred it’s soft and nearly vibrant. “We speak with her voice, as not just lovers or companions, but as those directly responsible for helping manage all our found and mantled responsibilities well.”

My sibling takes to cackling, nodding at that. “I’ve got to meet the cunt behind this, must be smart as all the Dead Cinders and then some to do that first thing. Get help managing this absolute mess of a Rift.”

Matron Tretion and Awnya grin at that, can’t stop themselves from trying to catch sight of Lyra blushing like crazy without tipping my sibling off to the invisible girl listening to every word.

“She really is, and we’ll let her know you’re here and interested seeing her.” Awnya offers. “Can even see about setting up rooms here in the estate behind us for ya. So long as you offer up Oaths of peace while you're here and all.”

“Sure, sure.” Mictrikia nods, then blazes to intone while their everything thrums with the weight of the following words. “We, Everflame Mictrikia, swear to withhold violence against you and all under your protections so long as violence isn’t offered or requested from us.”

“Wonderful, thank you.” Tretion lets out an obviously relieved sigh. “I’ll trust Duenna Raska to ensure your accommodations are fitting. Otherwise… Awnya and Myself will be stepping away to confer with our Beloved. Settle upon a time and place for you to meet.”

“Works for me.” Mictrikia accepts.

“Of course, Matron Tretion.” I agree, “Will come find you all after?”

Lyra nods.

While her Watcher says. “Please do.”

Then they turn and head into the estate proper, heading back to the Sea-Shell gateway and our home beyond.

Leave me standing with my sibling, alone. Save our sparks.

“Do me a favor, Trikia… Tell me how mad they are?” I ask quietly. “Our moms, I mean.”

They step up, tilting their hands in a so-so gesture while spark wibbles alongside. “Depends on which of them you’re asking about. The ones that favored you are… pretty confused. Annoyed. You left without even offering a whisper of why. Just… up and gone. Only took your consorts with you.”

“Alright, how… do you think they’ll take what you just found out when you tell them?”

A bark of laughter and they’re clapping a careful hand on my shoulder. “They’ll probably be more annoyed that your big gay heart led you to become even more important than before. Skipped from a loyal and ravenous Dutchess to a trusted Envoy and Duenna to the new Goddess of Theradas. You know how they are. Family and Sparks first. If you’ve sworn as binding Oaths as you hint at… that’ll be messy. But this lot seems wanting for allies. Shouldn’t need to break anything to keep both groups happy.”

“See… That’s the thing, Trikia.” I huff. “We’d fight for our Goddess, if it came to that. Is the first thing all five of my Flames have ever agreed on. Oath’s or no. We’d bleed spark and soulflame to keep them all safe. And… our moms and you need to know that. Understand that I’m not here for the family. That if they expect me to weave their schemes here, I’ll… I can’t. I meant what I said. About trying to make this place better than we found it.”

“Ah, well that’ll get them spitting fury.” They nod. “But… Honestly. You know me. My role hasn’t changed. I’m not here because they think this new Goddess is actually someone to trust. I’m here because I could burn through the Blight and take a look-see inside. This Rift is… really fucked. Sis. That Blight Storm has quieted but is still deadly as all the Dead Cinders. They won’t see you or your Goddess and her Beloveds as things to try and pester into actions anytime soon. And by then? You’ll all either be strong enough to push back, or dead. Easy.”

“Hope you’re right.” I agree, reach up to lay my hand on theirs. “And um… Thanks. For coming to look for me. Not sure things would have gone well if they sent someone else.”

“Welcome.” They grin. “That’s why they nudged us into it. Our siblings have a stupid habit of trying to burn in the worst ways around you.”

“And um… congrats. To all of you.” I add, turn to smile. “Glad to see more of your flame burning together so well. Only just found some of that myself and um… wish I had tried sooner. Took your advice on things.”

“Just took a bit of time.” They grin back. “Can’t wait to meet the gerl that sparked your mess of sparks to start cooperating.”