Content warning:

Soul torture. Threats that are analogous to detransitioning.

I… just stand stiff in surprise and worry and such confusion.

“We seek another of your kind.” Thendra replies. “Awnya of the Fae.”

He quirks an eyebrow.

“O– Or Usete!” I stammer to add. Wince as I feel Thendra’s annoyance at my speaking.

“They’re busy.” He huffs, “But I’ll let 'em know you came by.”

A beat. Nobody moves.

“Well…” He makes a shooing motion. “Get going. This isn’t a place for–”

“This manor holds well earned plunder that I’ve come to claim.” Thendra purrs. “By right of conquest and oaths broken.”

“Oh." The Fae glances past Thendra to the lump of Matron corpse, face a plan display of disgust. "That was your lot that did… that, then.”

“It was, and I do not take kindly to pests nibbling at corpses I’ve yet to loot.” She purrs with a low growl beneath.

“Heh. Take whatever you can stomach.” The Fae laughs humorously, then thumbs to the gateway behind himself. “Just stay out of the Rorliras.”

Another pause.

“That gateway…” Thendra cracks her neck, flexes her fingers. “Belonged to the Matron, therefore it falls under my ownership now.”

The Fae shrugs, either oblivious or uncaring to Thendra’s unspoken threat. “Just a warning, feel free to get lost in these Dreamer Cursed tunnels if you like. I don’t have the time or patience to lead you out though.”

Thendra smiles, purrs in approval.

Then the Fae’s eyes wander over to me. Initially there is a disgust within his eyes at my attire. But... then there is nothing but confusion.

“Can’t help but wonder though…” He muses. Hand pats his beard. “Who sang that Fae song earlier?”

I look away as Thendra lays a possessive hand atop my head in answer. Usete and Awnya… this Fae claims to know them. But… they probably didn’t tell him about me… and… and my current situation.

“Huh.” The Fae’s Deep brown eyes glimmer and sparkle with the magic of one deciding to peer at Amwella.

The room goes very still, even the Rorliras seems to quiet at the Fae’s eyes lock onto my unseen tail. Then drift to my blackened hands.

“Forgive my... rudeness. I am Ganzorig.” He murmurs. “I didn’t get your names.”

“Thendra, Reaver of the Thirteen. Eyegorger.” She purrs, but offers no more.

Ganzorig’s eyes only flitted to her as she spoke, now they’re back on me. Waiting…

I glance up at Thendra. Without looking away from the Fae she nods.

“Lyra.” I murmur, glance down and away.

A pause.

“Who’s your parent, Lyra?” Ganzorig asks quietly, eyes still watching my tail as it weaves nervously about me.

I don’t look to Thendra this time. Cold begins to trickle down my spine as I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It was you then… You’re the one Usete said I needed to unweave… Bout... what? Twelve years back.” Ganzorig murmurs after another pause. “What have you done to yourself?”

What? I don’t move, don’t speak and cold ice rolls down my spine. This was… This was who Usete went to… the Fae elder who was going to take my songs and form!?!

“Rot and Ruin.” He spits. All fury and… and with such venom. “If I wasn’t nose deep in another Dreamer Tit Fucked Nightmare right now I’d…”

The cold worry in me turns to a bubbling horrid thing as he lets the words trail off. Solidifies into anger. My tail’s talons and teeth slip out as it curls and flits about.

“You’d…" My eyes jerk up to glower at the Fae, tail snaps out to its full length in his direction without my command or intention, punctuates my words with a silent thunderous crack of soulflame. "What?”

He flinches, takes a step back. Hand raised, not in placation, but preparation. Lips and tongue begin to–

“But it’s as you said, Fae.” Thendra interrupts with an amused purr. “You find yourself immersed in other problems. Just deliver our calling to Awnya, and we can part ways.”

His eyes don’t even glance her way. “Starting to think this might be worth my time. Can smell the rot on her from here.”

Talons clench so hard I feel blood pool between my fingers as I glare across the room at this Dreamer Blighted Fae. Tail twists and whirls about me in erratic patterns as my cold anger builds and builds and begins to crack something. Something deeper and more horrible than any anger I’d felt before now.

“Look behind me, at the last creature who sought to take my Lyra from me.” Thendra laughs with a malice that resonates with my own rising fury. “And consider… She had a clutch of children to aid in her works.”

“Don’t much think that matters.” Ganzorig murmurs. “She’s playing at dangerous songs. And this close to the Rorliras…”

Her Reaver’s begin to move, slink around and to the sides to surround and corner this Fae.

Give the command.

Let me sing!

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I shudder in fury as horrid words bubble up and roil within my mind and soul. Fear and Pain and Spite and that ancient cry to let this Blighted Fae ROT AND DECAY AND–

“Dad?” Comes a call from the shell behind my target.

I ignore it, let a songless hiss begin to rise and tear at the air as I wait for the curse to change from barring me from wailing terrible agony into the world to forcing me to. Then a shimmer wriggles behind the old Fae, and Awnya appears at his side. Eyes darting between our group.

I sputter and stop as her shouted words crash down around me. Go from aching for such violence to a sudden dread of it.

“Awnya!?!” I choke out.

“Hey hey, Everyone cool down!” She calls out, sharp and hard. Fingers touch Ganzorig’s in an attempt to lower them. “Let’s all just… take a few breaths. Yeah?” She looks out to Thendra, eyes filled with annoyance as she pointedly ignores the two circling Reavers. “Okay? Can we keep things peaceful?”

Thendra goes from tense and ready for violence to relaxed amusement so fast I almost stumble. “I was only gathering my plunder, Fae. He was the one who sought conflict.”

The Reavers pause. Awnya looks down to her… her… Father!?! The one who Usete went to. The Fae elder who wanted to… who still wants to take away my songs. Is… is Awnya’s–

All our time together flashes through me. Her anger at Usete and the at time nameless Fae elders actions and intentions. Her support for my form and eagerness to help me. Our… our soul melding and love making and… and… and… Was any of it even real!?! Or… was it just… her trying to…

But her soul sang that she did care for me. This… this is just–

She huffs, a cocky smile blossoming across her face when he doesn’t lower his hand or stop glaring across the room at me. “These are… well this is the other project I’m working on here in Theradas, dad. Can you please stop?”

“The lover you keep taking off to help?” His eyes dart to her, surprise boiling into his anger. “Awnya, she’s… Her Amwella is too far gone! She needs to be–”

I bristle at that, and my tail snaps around in his direction again. He flinches back. Awnya jerks, looks in our direction in confusion at her… at Ganzorig’s reaction. But her eyes weren't alight with Amwella sight, so she didn’t see it.

“And that’s why I need you to untangle your beard and calm down!” She turns back to him. “She’s my responsibility. I’m handling this. Will handle it better once this Dreamer Blighted thing is set and closed again.”

He relaxes a little, lets his entire face turn to Awnya. “What other elders have you called on? Why is she here with this… person?”

Thendra purrs a low warning growl, but otherwise does not intrude on their conversation.

Awnya shifts, smirks down at him with just a hint of… embarrassment? “That’s none of your business.”

Ganzorig’s voice goes quiet, suddenly filled with the rumbling of worry and rage only a loving father can have. “No one? Really? Dreamer’s Tits girl, look at her!!!” He holds out a hand toward me in anger. “She’s a bigger threat than the past two Rorliras we’ve closed!”

“That’s not her fault.” Awnya goes stiff, glares down at him while still somehow keeping that smile firm. “She’s mine. Stay out of this.”

The word cuts through me. H– Her’s? But… just like a project though. She… she still can't… Not after I showed her that I’m Thendra’s. I can’t let her think I’m more than just a messed up Fae she needs to… to…

He growls, “I was tasked with her first. I should finish what I–.”

My hiss cuts through the room like cold lightning, tail soundlessly thrums with fury. Horrid words and curses begin to gather at the blighted talon. Ready to–

Everyone takes a step back, save Thendra who purrs with violent agreement, and Awnya. Who’s…

“Lyra!” She shouts, smile gone, with a glare that withers a good chunk of my rage. “Stop.”

Then her eyes flit down. See… Something black and horrible oozing to drip onto the floor like blood.

I blink, confused and… and it’s gone. But… the rot has advanced, just a little.

When I look back up Ganzorig’s eyes have gotten wider. “That’s… Awnya you can’t go near that. I need to–”

Awnya is already turning and beginning to stride across the floor to me. Her father’s eyes look like they're going to bulge from his sockets as she stops in front of me and reaches out to touch my shoulder. I… I almost jerk back. Tight with fear and confusion and pain and barely controlled worse things.

“Hey. Ignore him. He’s just an old fart dealing with more stress than he’s used to.” She whispers. “I’m not going to let anyone change you back.”

I can’t meet her eyes as my heart jolts in such… such sudden warmth! A balm to my writhing soul.

“You’re… concerned. That this situation is out of control?” Thendra muses thoughtfully, but not to us.

“Dreamer’s Blighted Tits! Is that an understatement!!!” Ganzorig growls. “You’ve allied yourself with a bleeding wound that will infect everything around it!”

I flinch, Awnya sighs and rolls her eyes. But… her eyes show worry at the words.

Thendra barks a laugh. “She’s not my ally, old Fae. She’s my slave.”

I flinch, Awnya turns a very slow glare up to Thendra, and I don’t have the capacity to even look past to see Ganzorig’s reaction.

A long pause.

“I found her in your cursed woods, where a bargain was struck between us.” Thendra purrs. “From it I was given her everything. Body, soul, and songs laid at my feet. All are bound to me.”

Ganzorig makes a noise of annoyance and disbelief. “None of that will matter when her rotten tunes are peeling you like an overripe fruit.”

Thendra only smiles, “That’s why I had her lay a Dreamer’s Lamentation upon her own soul. To sing without my command bites deep and shreds her Amwella.”

I’m okay with all that. I shake horribly, squeeze my eyes shut as Awnya’s hand tightens on my shoulder.

Better a slave than alone.

Ganzorig snorts. “Like I believe that. No curse could stop this.”

See? Thendra’s always right. This old Fae would only… only seek to… to take everything from me. Just like the humans and all the other Fae. Maybe… maybe even Awnya given enough time and–

“Then how about a demonstration?” Thendra purrs. “I trust you can watch her soul for this?”

My eyes pop open, and as I jerk up to stare up at her.

“Lyra, sing a curse like the Matron’s and place it upon Awnya.”

Mouth open, my talon even half twitches up toward Awnya's arm. She doesn’t even jerk back. But I resist, and so my world becomes nothing but all consuming pain.

I scream and wail and collapse to the floor. How… How could she demand that of me!?! She promised! Said she’d not hurt her!!! I feel my Amwella begin to bubble and form the curse, watch in horror as unborn maggots writhe and snap and cry out for soulfire to consume, screams will become the passage for them to leave me if I don't–

I clamp my mouth shut, stopping my wailing from becoming the rotten melody that will birth those wretched things into the world. Into Awnya. Squeeze eyes closed and press Talons into my chest, drawing my Naranggas as close as It can too.

I’m slowly drowning beneath the same curse that drove me to reject death in this same place. But… but there is no death now. Only torment.

Horrid pain it’s becoming so much harder to resist. Thoughts begin to… to melt. Why… Why am I even fighting this? Why not just–

“Stop!”

No. You're not the right voice.

“TELL HER TO STOP!!!”

Still not the right voice.

“Is this enough?” Comes the voice of my dark goddess. “Do you see how completely she is bound to me? The only thing she’ll resist me in, is this.”

“Thendra you Dreamer Blighted Cunt!” Comes a beautiful voice twisted in rage. “Tell her to stop or I’ll–”

“Only when your elder commands it.” She purrs.

Neeeeeed… to sing. Will stop the pain. Why… why not just… turn this pain into such wonderful melodies of… what did the old Fae call it?

Rot and Ruin? Thaaaaaaaaaat sounds so nice and–

“What!?!”

“He must be satisfied. I’ll not risk the Fae wroth you promised a few nights ago.”

Little rot maggots are sooo hungry. Should just… release them. Help them find someone to eat.

“Tell her to end it. Tell her you see–”

A long pause.

“FATHER!”

“End her suffering.” An older voice murmurs after a deep sigh.

Still not–

“Stop.”

And the pain and madness seems to bleed from me like blood from an open wound. I wheeze and gasp, feel my Naranggas curl and wrap around my sore and wounded core. Watch in… watch in agony as the little maggots fall back into formless slumber still clutched within my soul.

“Lyra, Lyra! You’re okay.” Hands trace over my shoulders, touch my hair and face. “C’mon. Just breathe. That’s it, deep breaths. You’re okay!”

I obey, shudder in painless euphoria as air returns to my lungs. Glance up through bloody and gummy eyes to see Awnya kneeling at my side. Thoughts and memories begin to return.

The Fae elder sighs. “This…”

I… I almost did it. I… I was so close to following her command. Almost…

“And she only resists me in this.” My dark wretched Goddess purrs to someone across the room. “She bears great affection for your offspring. Won’t even submit to that pain if it means hurting her. But in all other things… She is a tool in my hand. And I have no cause to reave this dream. I live in it.”

She’s wrong. Just… just a few more seconds and I would have…

A beat, the only sounds seem to be my choking wheezing gasps that mingle with sudden sobs.

“Thendra,” Awnya hisses, “This is exactly the kind of thing you said you’d avoid pushing her toward!”

I twist to stare up at Thendra through bloody tears. Jade eyes flicker down to me. Cold, and… and…

“And there is another part to our bargain.” Thendra purrs, ignoring the younger Fae. “Her death. It’s mine to deliver.”

I shudder. Can’t… can’t help but… but… almost wish for it right now. If only to keep Awnya safe.

“I… see.” A sigh from across the room. “This is… She chose this? Laid the curse herself?”

“Only because the Fae drove her to those woods!” Awnya shouts, hands still trying to… to comfort me. “She wouldn’t be here if Usete and you just–”

“Does it matter?” Ganzorig whispers.

Awnya hisses, jerking back to glare at her father. “Of course it does! It’s like you always taught us! The ends don’t justify the means. The means shape the ends. What do you think I’m trying to do for her?”

“Kid…” He shakes his head, eyes go sad and angry and… “It’s too late for her.”

“Either way, Fae.” Thendra laughs. “You’ve seen the care I’ve laid into containing her… what is it called? Her Dream Stirring? Awnya can attest to my ability to end Lyra should she try and seek to reclaim her songs or spread this… rot.”

There is a long pause as I struggle to push myself on my elbows and fight to stand. Spit blood and a bit of bile. Awnya helps, but at some point turns to look back at her father with such horror on her face. “You can’t be thinking this is okay.”

“No. It’s… This is not ideal.” Ganzorig sighs, “But… it’s the best we have. At least until we can consider unraveling–”

I hiss, a broken and pathetic thing. Would always take death over that. Will fight and tear you Dreamer Blighted Cunts from the dream if you try to–

“No.” Awnya seems to hold me closer, glowers at her father. “I will fight with everything I am to stop that.”

My heart twists in horror and rage at his suggestion, but… also in warmth at Awnya’s touch and support and… and then a guilt settles in. I glance over to stop the Matron’s rotting corpse. I came so close to doing that to her.

“Rot and Ruin, do you think I enjoy seeing one of our kind like this?” Ganzorig growls. “Twisted and infected?”

“It doesn’t matter what you think now.” Awnya’s finished helping me stand now, turns to glare at her father. “The responsibility here is mine.”

“Kid… don’t–”

“I am free to walk and sing where I will.” She cuts him off. “And my elder has laid clear to me where that should be. Tell Usete and Netta I apologize for leaving them to clean up that mess without me.”

What? No, Awnya… you… you can’t–

Ganzorig glares, eyes flit between myself and Awnya.

“I’ll be fine. Just… You don’t need to–” I whisper, but she shushes me and takes one of my arms in hers.

“Let’s get you out of here. Okay?” She murmurs through a grin.

Thendra purrs a laugh. “You are welcome to stay in my home and assist my Lyra for as long as you desire, Fae.”

“Yeah. That can work.” Awnya sighs, rolls her eyes. “For now.”