Content Warnin:

- Description of assault and torments that happened between chapters.

-blood, violence, use of curses to bind others. Limb loss. violent deaths.

- certain magic resembles maggots/worms

“Good morning Thendra!” Voe calls out to the group as we gather at the entrance.

She doesn’t notice me from under my song of hiding. The tune honed from our time training me in the desert. It’s not perfect, not yet, but shadows are all I require now as I move away from Thendra and her Reavers. I can’t help but smirk through the weaving as writhing shadows of her mane of eyestalks whip and jerk to join the blanket of darkness that hides me.

My Amwella is… mostly healed. Thendra had spent half the night dragging me from climax to climax, slowly and carefully carving away at my soul. I was such a mess of exhaustion and pain by the end of it that I had to wait until morning to begin singing all the cuts, bites, and one broken bone healed from the experience.

It was painful… of course. Just like she promised. Just like I deserved.

Every feeding was worse than the last. Like tearing at an open wound over and over again until it covers the entire limb. I went from trembling climaxes tinted with pain, to full on wailing sobs of agony with little mistings of pleasure scattered throughout. But… Thendra knows my body, knows how to read my limits, and when to push them. At the end of it all, when I was a sobbing mess puddled in her arms, It was her warmth and fury that kept me alive.

That… and thoughts of needing to make sure Awnya and Usete are safe.

Thendra’s reply is a rolling purr of greeting.

“It’s honestly wondrous to have you back today.” Voe continues, oblivious to me as I step around her to take in the room. “We’ve had more interference these past nights, strange songs echoing from the halls.”

I can hear the Rorliras from here. Can feel the echoing empty thing calling out. But… no songs.

“Any sign of the Fae?” Thendra growls.

Voe huffs, fiddles at the pommel of her sheathed blade. “Whispers of songs last night, but… No.”

Thendra nods, “Then lead us to your Matron.”

There is a pause, I glance back to notice a single eyestalk focus on one of my ankles. I freeze, look down, notice a little piece of my song loosely wiggle in that spot.

“Of course,” She turns, and begins to rotate her main eyes toward me.

I focus harder on the song, begin to carefully slide from her path while–

Voe’s face eyes blink, turn toward the spot, and the weight of her gaze begins to wither my work. I have to stop moving to allow the shadows to gather, and begin to add little titters of suggestion into the mix. Calls to just… ignore me. Look away. It was just a trick of the light!!!

She pauses, does a double take on my location. Unconsciously adjusts to grip the hilt of her–

“Will you join us today?” Thendra purrs. “Within the Rorliras?”

“Hm?” Voe quirks her head, but doesn’t stop intensifying her focus.

“Zitra’s spells are useful, but I prefer your company in those halls.” Thendra adds.

That snaps her attention away. Almost all the eyestalks turn to follow her surprised gaze. I smirk and ignore the rest of Thendra’s distraction, pulling the song closer and ending the suggestion before moving to use a few of the Reavers to shield my form.

They’ve started to notice the subtle hints of Fae song. I chide myself. Should have expected that.

But then I slip behind Thendra, and tap her once on the thigh.

Thendra moves like lightning. And next thing I know one arm wraps around and pulls Voe’s eyestalks into a clump while another snakes around to choke off a sudden cry. Three other Reavers move forward to restrain her arms and help keep her pinned.

“Sing Voe’s Curse.” Thendra purrs in our beautiful language.

That was what most of the planning was last night. Finalizing the best curses to have me lay upon the Watchers. Eye contact isn’t as good as a well carved blood brand done with my own talons. Won’t work to drag these stronger curses into someone.

I dart up alongside her, weave Fear and Pain and the melody of the end into my Dreamer’s Lament. Feel the curse roil and sweep down my arm as Thendra jerks her head to reveal the unarmored skin of the Watcher’s neck.

My fingers twist into unnatural horrid shapes as I reach up and claw patterns into her pale skin. A bigger and more complex thing wrought with Fae words infested with a true understanding. It roughly would translate to…

You will obey all of Thendra’s commands.

You will die when Thendra dies.

My old curses were like needles, hard and solid things that pinch and sting, but this new curse is… alive. The vile thing slithers out of me like a clutch of worms. Or… no, not worms.

Maggots.

My Amwella sight is active, so I get to watch in sickening fascination as the parasite wriggles into Voe’s soul. But... then I can’t stop a gag as it burrows deep and settles, awaiting the slightest provocation to begin feeding upon its host’s Amwella.

“Sing your hiding melody.” Thendra murmurs as I pull away.

I obey, fight down a heaving vomit of blood and bile, and slump to the ground. Curl shadow’s around to help hold myself together.

“Red Moonstone.” Thendra purrs into Voe’s ear. “Be still, silent, and listen to me.”

Voe doesn’t stop struggling, and I get to observe another’s Amwella be consumed and wrent apart by one of my Laments. To her credit, she doesn’t try to scream. Just… seizes up and begins to writhe. I feel only horror and pity as I observe my work. I… I hate Voe, but… oh Dreamer’s Tits that curse is so much worse then my old ones.

“Be still and the pain in your soul will end.” Thendra growls.

Voe finally listens, though it’s probably more out of the paralyzing pain of the curse than Thendra’s words.

“You and yours betrayed me, Voe.” Thendra nods to her Reavers, and as they pull away she lowers Voe to the floor. Then releases her eyestalks and throat. “Close your eyes, watcher.”

Voe’s eye’s meet Thendra’s, mouth opens as they go wide with pleading, then force shut the moment the curse begins to nibble.

“You will stay silent, still, and blind until I command otherwise. Else you will feel your soul be eaten from the inside out.” Thendra hovers over Voe’s face. “Nod once if you understand.”

Stolen story; please report.

Voe pauses, then bobs her head and a few eyestalks once.

Thendra rises, nods to her Reavers. A couple drag Voe outside the main doors before returning to join the group. Then Thendra nods and we begin to move down the passageways toward the chamber with the Rorliras shell.

As our group reaches the end of the passage, we can see the wide open chamber and the sparkling mass of the Rorliras. Around it are dozens of tables piled with books and other odd tools and such. Standing among them are half as many slaves, the half horned face lady, and the Watchers.

I’m darting past Thendra first thing, moving to slip beneath and around the tables. Letting the mass of shadows there to cloak me fully. Confident that no gaze from their horrid eyes could shed this veil now.

The Matron stands at this table next to Zitra, and I’m so close that I could just… reach out and scratch their ankles. Well… at least the Matron’s ankle. She’s wearing simple black slippers that leave all the flesh of her ankle exposed, while Zitra is wearing sturdy chitin atop a heavy pair of boots.

Thendra and her Reavers approach, and get about half way before total surprise is lost.

“Voe?” Zitra cuts off her Matron’s explanation of some junction of passages inside the Rorliras. Zitra steps around the table, and I see her stick click on the floor.

Everyone goes silent, and Thendra and her Reavers slow to a stop.

“Thendra…” Zitra murmurs. I peek out and see Thendra’s predatory grin. “What have you done?”

Thendra spreads her arms, and her Reavers begin to spread out around her. Bulderii readies her bow.

The Matron does not move, but I do notice her shadows wiggle as her eyestalks twist forward. Horn face lady readies her weapon, but… seems to take more of a side-step than approach with Zitra.

“Who was it then?” The Matron asks, tone polite and unconcerned. “That bought you. I mean.”

“No one, Watcher.” Thendra purrs.

She sighs. “Then why do this? On the eve of such great rewards and treasures?”

Thendra smiles. “Guess.”

A long patient pause.

“Is Voe dead?” Zitra hisses, and a low creak comes as she squeezes the haft of that stick of hers.

Thendra lets out a rolling rumble of a laugh as her Reaver’s continue to spread and surround the tables.

“Would you like to see her again, Zitra?” Thendra’s voice is… oh Dreamer’s Tits it's a low and horrid thing. Paints a picture of the terrible pain my curse brings without actually telling Zitra a thing.

Zitra chokes on what might have been a reply.

“Thendra.” The Matron chides, “At least let me know why I must now find a new group to spearhead my work here. Maybe I can ensure they won’t share your flaws.”

Thendra aims that predatory grin back at her, whispers so quietly I would have missed it if I wasn’t waiting for her command. “Sing the Matron’s curse.”

Talon twists into the Matron’s bare skin as I bring Fear and Pain and the Melody of the End bursting forth. A clutch of writhing spawn curls from my soul. In a single swipe I’m hissing a terrible song into being, feeling the first words of Fae song bind the little wriggling thing to her Amwella.

You will embrace Blindness

You will ob–

A flash of purple flame cuts off my song, and most of my hand. I’m given only a second to watch as the fingers and half the palm just… falls away. Turned to ash and charred slag.

Then everything explodes into chaos, and pain. So much Dreamer blighted pain!!!

I’m still singing. Still weaving a song of the Matron’s curse into the world. Teeth of it cling to her through the unfinished bloody brand, while its form still lies at my core amidst the incomplete song.

I spot flashes of the Reaver’s movement about the room. Watch one get cleaved nearly in two by the half horn lady, before an arrow cracks half of her face apart with a sound that mixes so beautifully with the pain I’m still wheezing out.

The Matron is shrieking something… not… not people words. Not Fae things. But… weird cutting sounds that slice perfectly in time with the half-finished Lament on her ankle. Almost… almost like strings of some strange instrument plucked in tune.

I’m not so much crawling away, but wriggling as I clutch my smoking and charred hand to my chest. Trying to… to get to someone. To let me sing healing and…

Golden eyes flash in my memories. Soft harmony of healing that helps settle my soul and heal my aches. Soft words and kisses and–

A foot kicks me onto my back right before a knee slams down into my throat, cuts off the song, and then another pain is jammed into my soul. “End it!” the woman growls.

Not the right person. Too many eyes, all black and wrong. So I hold the melody within my Amwella and try to choke out more of its horrid tune. The Matron’s slicing calls tear through the room. I see a Reaver, Hundat I think, attempt to leap at Zitra from the side. Almost gets claws around her now glowing stick, but then that same purple flame from before rends her into a slag of ash and wet meat.

“END IT!” Zitra slams her stick into the floor next to my face, green lightning twists around her.

Gummy nonsense clogs my eyes, nose and ears. The wonderful clutch of writhing parasitic song gnashes and tears at the edges of my Amwella. Shrieks for me to find their host and let them feast.

“Thendra!” Zitra jerks all but her face eyes to glare away from me, “Tell her to release the curse or–”

“SING ZITRA’S CURSE ALONGSIDE THE MATRON’S!!!” Comes the commanding roar of some dark goddess.

Left Talon jerks up, rakes twisting sigils down Zitra’s unprotected face on instinct. Watcher blood gleams on my fingertips. Zitra flinches back, frees my throat just enough to choke out the sounds needed to weave the Lament. I don’t release the Matron’s foul thing, just… weave in her kin’s. Add little unseen maggots to crawl around the larger unsealed curse and burrow into this new target. She’s already hissing as strange light erupts from her deep black eyes and–

You will obey all of Thendra’s commands.

You will die when Thendra dies.

“Be still and silent and blind!” Comes a call, just… not for me.

I can’t stop a bloody pain maddened smile overtaking me as I watch my creations begin to feed on their new host. The watcher falls away, and I’m free to continue wailing and choking on these perfectly rotten songs. The pain is… well… I can’t help but curl myself around it. That's all I am now. Just a birthing vessel for two harmonies of wondrous rot. Physical agonies work so well to fuel the creatures as they–

The Matron shrieks a rage that adds such beauty to my song. I feel her Amwella buck and twist, try to shake off the teeth of my curse. Fail.

More chaos, hands fall upon me. But then jerk away.

At one point I get to watch as a beautiful dark shape moves like a leaf amidst a summer storm. Her Amwella is wrapped in a familiar mantle of Jade but… tinted with Violet bits. She catches and simply... pulls and rips the head off of a small blue watcher lady before easily avoiding thin little threads of green and purple magic that pierce the spot she was at only a second before.

I reach for this dark goddess with a shaking maimed hand as she closes in on something horrible and ugly and… I don’t know what that is…?

Masses of shrieking teeth and tongue erupt from this creature’s back, eyestalks curl around an old form’s core. Open and glaring down at the still half finished curse on her ankle. But it does not wither.

Oh. That’s the Amwella I’m still clutching onto. The Matron. She’s just… changed. Or… maybe this was what she was always like?

The dark goddess reaches her, avoids three strikes from a tongued mass, lands a single blow that seems to sever away an eyestalk, then retreats when the floor beneath her erupts in a sudden flash of purple flames. The Matron shrieks in annoyance, then those large eyes turn outward to glare at me. Glow bright.

Some unseen force lifts me, jerks me up and across the room like a loose bag of leaves. Slams me hard into the upper end of a wall. I feel so many soft squishy things inside me pop while the bones creak and snap.

But… I don’t fall. Just.. feel a suffocating weight begin to–

“END IT!” The Matron calls out as her magic continues to crush me.

“Kill her, and the curse will bite deeper.” Thendra’s growl lies to her. Or... at least I think it's a lie? I don't actually know if this curse would continue without the final notes of my melody.

The pressure lessens, but… doesn’t stop holding me to the wall as I choke and wheeze out the Lamentation.

“For this?” The Matron hisses, “You betray me for… over this thing?”

Fifteen feet from her, Thendra pauses. Beautiful Amwella flails and writhes while her dark perfect form remains still. My dark goddess considers the monster's words.

“One of us did.” She purrs, “One of us broke her word over my Fae. But it wasn’t me or mine.”

The mass of teeth twist and… and then all but one of the eyestalks close. Leave only her face eyes to look up at Thendra while one eyestalk glows with magic as it glares up at me. The remaining Reavers move up and begin to circle the Matron.

“How about a bargain, Reaver?” The Matron’s grip on me tightens, forcing my song down to just a choking gagging whimper.

Thendra lets out a purring laugh. “Your promises are broken useless things.”

Then she’s moving again.

More magic, and the pressure tightens, threatens to fully crush me against the hard stone wall entirely. Then I’m falling, and I’m barely able to twist my legs to disperse my weight so that I don’t shatter any more of myself on the floor. I choke out more of the cursed songs, then jerk up to watch as three of the Matron’s eyestalks attempt to converge lances of purple flame on Thendra. She barely avoids–

My song almost chokes to a halt as I watch one of Thendra’s legs get blasted into charred slag from the knee down. She tumbles, catches her fall, and is already forcing some of her amazing Amwella to begin wrapping about the limb. But her speed has gone from glorious blurring perfection to a hobble I could probably match. The Matron howls victory, discordant vile sounds to my Lament, and begins to twist herself to aim all eyestalks at Thendra.

I’m up then, running. Moving through the maelstrom of chaos. Across the slagged remains of desks, books, and Reavers I force myself forward. The Amwella within me strained under the weight of the two songs, but I force a third into the discordant mix.

I call shadows to hide my form as I speed forward, and feel the sting of my Lament sink deep into me as I dart straight toward the Matron.

I’m not going to last long. The two Laments have already consumed most of my soul, and now my curse could finish me. But she’s totally focused on Thendra and the remaining half dozen Reavers. Purple lances of flame don’t even come near me as I leap forward, slide the remaining few feet to slam into her ankles.

Find the brand.

She doesn’t fall, not with the weird twisting mass of extra limbs holding her up. All eyes jerk down to–

Can’t get my left hand to it quick enough. I realize as things begin to bite and claw at my legs and back and arms and hair and–

So I bite down on her ankle, Use my teeth to will the horrid clutch of worming life to finish their infestation of her soul as I taste leathery skin and blood, break a few teeth to finish carving the blood brand.

You will embrace Blindness.

You will obey all of Thendra’s commands.

You will die if Thendra dies.

I’m torn free then, dragged through a… a tunnel of teeth and choking pain and spit out onto the floor a few dozen feet away. I try to keep singing, but… terrible pain in my throat blocks me. The curse doubles it’s sting of–

“BE SILENT AND STILL AND BLIND!” Thendra commands, and the curse settles. Oh… I guess she meant that for me this time too.

But… My breathing does not return. I reach up, feel… Oh.

A gash runs from my chin, down my throat, and ends just above my sternum. Deep and messy and oozing blood.

I can’t breathe, can’t… even with a command I can’t sing a healing song to fix this!