The silence that answers is so long I almost think they’ve left us. Abandoned us to wander this place until death. My fury doesn’t cool, doesn’t fade, only grows stronger. I chew and gnaw at it, tear at my Amwella, wishing I could just throw all my hatred and sorrow and malice at… at this…

At the sibling who betrayed me. Who forced our Fae mother to cast me away.

“Lyra.” The voices finally returns, soft. “I can’t let you stay with her.”

I’m tempted to hiss a song, curse and reverberations be blighted, but Thendra’s hand on my head stops me. Fingers in my hair restrain my song. “What good are your freedoms, when she will only return to me?” A rolling, purring laugh resonates from her.

Hatred seems to radiate along the crooked curves between us. “Thendra, Reaver of the Thirteen, I know your ways, have witnessed your cruelty. I know not how you ensnared her, but–”

“I gave myself to her!” I snarl. “Willingly!”

The voice goes soft again. “Regardless of your… desires. I cannot let you carry the songs of our people. Especially not while under the influence of this–”

Thendra growls. “Her songs are mine, sold and claimed.”

“They are not hers to give.”

“Then come and take them!” Thendra roars, “Let’s see how your tricks work against me.” Then she pushes me behind her, and radiates a violence I’d never even thought possible. The pathways beneath us seem to groan under her weight, whine and creak as if unable to withstand her.

“What? How’re you–” The voice stammers in disbelief.

Thendra purrs out a laugh, “She’s fed herself to me for weeks. I’ve watched and listened and learned to move with the Fae songs.”

My anger melts into a dark joy as an idea strikes me. “May I sing?” I murmur.

Without hesitation she purrs, “Sing, so I may slaughter.”

The hum is simple, just an inverse of one of my first songs. I plead with these halls to reveal all hidden things. The melody radiates out, and as it washes back I notice this shimmer of concealment on a pathway to my right. Thendra moves, and I barely catch the glimpse of her careening toward my sibling, a wild thundering strike whirling at their chest.

Gone is the illusion of normalcy over them. They stand regal and tall, even as they jerk back. Long perfect golden hair and robes of the midday court. Their bright blue eyes go wide in surprise.

But… Everything is wrong here, we’re pulled sideways and up in little ways by the twisting nature of this place. Thendra’s crackling open palm strike misses by a fraction of an inch. There is a flurry of motion, Fae songs echo through the pathways, and everything tilts and–

I’m falling.

I try to grasp at the smooth floor as I’m enveloped between their grooves. On pure reflex I keep the song on my lips instead of replacing it with a yelp, but there is a pause in it… a choking that seems to alert Thendra to my plight.

“Stop!” She commands, and my mouth and song clamp shut.

Then she’s launching at me, fingers outstretched toward–

She misses me by barely a hair as something in her motion is adjusted. I do scream as the floor warps and closes above me, and I fall through glistening pearlescent terror…

What feels like an eternity later, one of the grooves curves, and I’m sliding down the curling walls more than I am falling. But I just keep going. I twist and try to slow, but only manage to knock myself sideways and end up tumbling over a few times. Eventually my slide begins to flatten out, and I’m trying to dig nails into the smooth curving floor to halt myself. I twist and slide halfway up a wall, then tumble down into a heap. It takes me a second to get my bearings, to shake off the dizziness and desire to vomit. But I manage, and rise.

“Thendra?” I whisper.

How… How far did I fall? I glance around, spot at least fifty two different openings and routes. Can’t even identify which I just fell from.

“Thendra?”

Deep breaths. Stay calm.

“Bul– Bulderii? Hundat?”

I’m… I’m alone again.

I begin to shudder. Arms wrapping around my barely clothed form. Maybe forever this time.

“Don’t panic. Stay calm.” I grit my teeth. “She won’t leave you here. She’ll come for you.”

I begin to walk, then stop, look around. Should I stay here? Wait for her to come find me? Could… Could I find her? I shake harder. No, I… I shouldn’t. But.. Could a song help me? Could… Could I push through enough of the pain to–

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I take a deep breath, prepare to hum a litany at this strange horrible place. To help me find Thendra, to get me home. Gather up Amwella, brace for the pain, and sing. It feels so wrong to do without her command. I fail two or three times the moment the curse needles at me.

“You did this after the Reaver’s fucked you.” I hiss at myself, “You're fine. Just… do it. Sing. Sing!”

I do, and it stings so hard I collapse to my hands and knees. Weaving a song of pleading, mixing in my mistresse's name to try and help this place understand what I desire. I end it, spit blood and bile to stain the perfect marbled floor. But… as the song reverberates back I hear a creak, feel a twist in the air, and look up to see one path has grown bigger than the others.

I grin a bloody smile, rise, and move forward. But hear a shuffle behind me, a twist of air.

When I jerk around I see my sibling thirty feet back. Their undisguised Fae form seems to glow and hum with the twisting pathways. Wonderfully bright blue scales and twists curl up from their robes. They don’t return my hatred now, not even in their eyes. They just… study me.

I spit another glob of blood, gather my courage, and level my best glare at them.

“Please, Lyra.” They whisper, holding out a hand to me.

I back away a few steps, gather my Amwella, and growl Pain and Fear through the Rorliras tunnels. Oh Dreamer’s Tits the curse stings hard. Drains so much. Their hand curls on itself, I see… annoyance? No… it’s–

A counter song of peace and soothing … somethings, whistles from their lips. Our songs meet between us, slam into one another, mix and… disperse. Leaving only my choking gasps to fill the silence and void.

“Dreamer Cursed Cunt–”

A shout makes me jerk my head to the side. Thendra?!?!

I mindlessly take a few steps toward the sound, yell out. “Thendra! I’m–”

A form steps around a groove, and my eyes meet a few dozen. Voe stands startled, eyes casting about. Her gaze's weight settles on me. Fingers twitch, a cruel amused curiosity begins to bubble behind her horrible eyes and-

I jerk back, find my sibling gone.

When I turn back Voe has crossed the distance with her sword drawn. “Where is–” She doesn’t take her face eyes off me, but lets all others weave about. “Where is your mistress, little slave?”

I bristle, glance at the path I opened. Zitra moves into the same passage in the next second, quickly moves toward us.

“Thendra!?!” Zitra calls out as she moves up past me to look down it.

Silence is our only reply.

“Hmmm….” Voe clicks her blade against her armor, “She took your songs, not your voice. Answer me.”

“She… she’s on her way. I just…” I take a step back. She follows, all eyes settling on me. I feel Zitra move to block my retreat.

Both their gaze's weight are on me now. If Thendra was here I’d not fear them, would have a horrid song ready to turn them into a mess of gurgling slop. But… with her gone, and this foul place's tendency to throw my songs back…

“You’ll come with us, little slave.” Voe coos, “Our Matron would very much like to speak with you.”

“No.” I hiss. Fists clenched as I furiously think of ways to avoid this. To escape. Maybe… maybe I could try my hiding song? Slipping past and trying to find–

Voe giggles, “You think that was a request?”

Like lightning she strikes out and slams the flat of her blade against my thigh. I yelp out in pain and stumble. It didn’t break skin or bone, but my entire leg goes wibbly with the pain of the blow. I glance down to see a purple and angry red bruise already rising.

Zitra murmurs. “If she won’t cooperate, just let me handle it.”

“Oh, go right ahead!” Voe tutters, “I did that for me. But if she won’t walk I’m not carrying her!”

I grit my teeth. Agony and death be blighted, I will drag this cunt screaming from the dream with me!

“Dreamer blighted bug eyed cunt.” I hiss, begin to call up my Amwella.

That causes them both to pause, surprised.

“What did you just... Really? You’re…” Voe stammers, then grins. “OH! I didn’t realize Thendra’s little pillow slave was into pain. Let me supply you with more in her stead!”

“Voe…”

“What?” Voe giggles, steps after me. “She’s asking for it! Would probably beg if I–”

Amwella roils, push through their smothering weights and the curse's sting. And right before Voe’s chitin boot connects with my face I wail Spite between us.

An explosion of pain. Blackened Rot seems to claw and writhe around me. Screams of agony as if the air itself is bearing the torment. And for a glorious second I get to watch through bloody tears as the skin on Voe’s face is torn nearly clean off before my wail launches her into the far wall.

Then an echo of it all repeats back through us and I welcome the oblivion it brings.

* * *

Warmth envelopes me, curls about my Fae flesh and holds me upright. For the first seconds I’m at peace, thinking I’m in Thendra’s arms. As I awaken her soul and fingers to begin wandering and-

But then I wriggle, and it tightens around my throat. Squeezes and constricts, just... a big solid mass of scaled something. I snap my eyes open, and I scream in terror as whatever this thing is winds around me tighter.

I’m in a stone cell, on my knees, bound and wrapped up in some kind of long thick twisting mass. It’s… it’s alive?!?!

I’m unable to look down much, restrained from even seeing what chokes and binds me. “T– Thendra!?!” I wheeze out.

Then all the memories chew back into my mind. The horrible place, my sibling, and— Voe and Zitra trying to capture me. My wail of Spite.

Through the throttling pain of this restrain I feel plenty of deep cuts and bruises. Probably a broken rib or two. My face hurts, and one of my eyes struggles to stay open. My Amwella is… alright. Considering how many times I’d gotten stung.

But... How am I alive?

After a few moments, I feel the thing shift. And then a tendril, tipped by a great purple eye as big as my head raises up to peer at my face.

“Let me go!” I hiss at it.

It blinks, then pulls from view. A few moments pass, then a door I couldn’t see before amidst the dark creaks and opens, and Voe storms in.

Her face is mangled, looks much like mine feels. But… it’s been partially healed. She’s stripped off her armor and now wears a simple green gown, but is carrying her sheathed sword. Rage drips from her, but she doesn’t speak. Just… grips her sword as tightly as she can.

A few moments pass.

I don’t speak, don’t engage. I’m a slave to her, less than a person. A piece of flesh to be butchered. Memories slide back into place. And she isn’t in charge here. Else she’d already be hurting me.

I stop looking at her. Ignore the weight of her gaze and the strangling pain of this… thing, and focus on the wall. A few moments pass, then Zitra comes stumbling into the room. Still in her light chitin armor. She glances between Voe and me.

“What?” Voe hisses at her.

“I...” Zitra pauses, “Just… The Matron asked me to make sure you hadn’t–”

Voe glares at her, “Does she think so little of me?”

“I’ve seen you gut someone for less.” Zitra calms, shrugs.

Voe snorts, but doesn’t reply. Turns her glare back to me. “I’m just here to watch. Maybe take a few bites if she leaves anything once she's done.”

I shudder as Zitra gives me a sidelong glance.

There is a long pause. Then a large shadow falls outside the open door, and the third monster arrives. The Matron wears a simple gown of dark silk, eyestalks curling about her in obvious agitation. But her face is kept blank.

She enters, glares down at me, and I’m drowning beneath the smothering weight of her gaze.

“Where is Thendra?” She finally asks, voice nearly a hiss.