Content Warning:

Death/soul eating. Soul torture. Imagery of a big gross internal organ... thing.

I pull back from the watcher and glare about the room and all the bubbling half-real Amwella things that wriggle and pop from the walls. My Naranggas snap and cut at it a few times but… nothing comes of it. No warm soulfire.

I sigh, still in pain and annoyed and… and still dealing with gummy bloody eyes and face. So I take a second to pull up this slave shirt and wipe it away as best I can. After a moment I hear a click, a sign that someone is…

I dart to hide behind the door as it opens, Naranggas pulled close and still.

Lenelope rushes in, gaze immediately locks onto her mistress.

“Lady Tretion!?!” She yelps then stammers as she rushes over to the stone still watcher, “Is… is something…What’s wrong!?! Where is…”

By the time she’s turning I’m already on her, wrapping her soul in death.

Warmth floods me as I drink in her weird fluffy little soul. Have to… to step back and… and…

She doesn’t even get out another word before she dies, no soulless body struggles like the red-horned things. Just… kinda slumps and is still.

I shudder and shiver and bask in the wonderful euphoria I could not indulge before. Naranggas curl and whirl around me in a soul hug as we embrace this amazing sensation! Feel our body and head and… and everything bubble happily as if submerged in the best bath.

But then… then it’s fading. Old muck and rot rises back up. And I can’t stop a little sob as I’m dropped into… into…

Huh?

This isn’t so bad. I almost let out a relieved cry at the lack of horrid aftershock I remember after all my other feedings. I look up and around, but carefully. Try to… to understand what’s different about this feeding?

Then it hits me. No… no pain! No floaty mind or tummy bubbles or… Well I mean the Dreamer Blighted walls are still being weird. But… it’s just popping and gurgling. Doesn’t seem to mind that I just cursed its mistress and ate her little servant.

I guess… Wait! That’s right! Soulfire can help me heal faster!

I can’t help but… but let out a giggle at how amazing this sudden loss of horrible pain and mind problems are! I haven't felt this amazing since Awnya–

The thought of her jolts me to a halt. Sours my mood. Makes me remember my promises.

I turn to glare at the watcher. “You’re not to perform any magic without my permission. But you may speak so long as it’s quiet.”

Tretion is just kinda… slumped on her couch. Head back and staring just almost directly upward. Her mouth opens, lets out a huff of air.

“W– Why?” She whispers.

I pause. Confused. “Why… What?”

“She… Thendra. Why did she break her word?” She hisses softly. “Why send you here to–”

I snort. “I’m not Thendra’s, remember?”

She grinds her teeth. “She lied! Said you’d not sing for her! Said your mind was... was wounded and broken!”

I step past the dead servant and move to straddle Tretion again, have to really stretch to make her eyes meet mine. “Does it matter?”

“If… if word gets out her oaths are worthless. She’ll–”

“You will never lie to me.” I purr. “You will never try to lead me to believe something false.”

She chokes, eyes go wide as my little maggots nibble, then rest.

I nod, “Now tell me, What are you to m–”

I freeze, have to glare past her as… as the words won’t come. As I picture Thendra holding Voe aloft and demanding the same.

And… and I can’t do it.

“You… Lyra you… you don’t want to do this.” Tretion whispers, eyes pleading.

My rot maggots don’t move. I hiss, turn back to glare at her.

“But you did.” I growl. “Wanted to bind me and use me and… and keep me as your little pillow slave, right?”

She hesitates.

“Answer me.” I demand.

“Yes.” She whispers, face suddenly a wash of… shame? “B– But Lyra! I meant what I said! I wanted to help! I… I would have treated you well! Better than Thendra ever did!”

The rot maggots sleep happily. I growl…

Her truths are… annoying. And I don’t want to consider what monsters think of themselves better or worse than my dark goddess.

“Not a slave.” I huff very quietly, then quirk an eyebrow at her. “Buuut… Speaking of kind monsters…”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I tap her chest, right where she forced my head to lay, directly above her heart and soul. “Those little soul munchers are pretty bad ones. You might want to consider how best to keep them happy.”

She winces as the still bloody talon draws a line up and over the still raw curse mark. “How do you think we can do that, Tretion?”

“By obeying you.” She replies quickly. “Of course.”

I sigh, really relieved I don’t have to explain all the annoying little details. And… and not having to worry about hurting her with my commands to much. Not like…

Beloved sibling.

I drag myself off her as my Naranggas go a little wild at the bitter memories that itch at my mind.

“You may move again, but will follow me and never act in a way that can hurt me.” I sigh. Sense her scramble to follow immediately, only cause my maggots to sort of… wiggle in those little seconds to give her time to move. I twitch at that. At… at how her curse gives her the benefit of the doubt. Where mine… mine just bites and tears the second after a command is spoken or disobeyed.

I look about for a moment… Considering…

How would she react to this? To… to my plan? To how I’d decided to try and do this? She promised that my use of songs wasn’t just okay, but expected.

“Can… Can I help you with anything?” Tretion whispers.

I slowly turn to glance back at her. She’s kneeling beside Lenelope, looks… well not sad but… contemplative as she brushes the little woman’s eyes closed. Adjusts her to lie more comfortable on the rich carpet. Bubbles seem to curl and cuddle around the small dead woman. Tretion's head tendrils whirl about in a sort of... careful searching motions before returning back to sit close to her face.

That… What was that tone there? She’s not angry or… or even really afraid anymore. Just… UGH!!!

“Sorry, just… you seem quite… lost.” She shrugs when I only stare in confusion at her words and actions.

“What are you planning?” I demand. “Tell me.”

She lets out a huff with a bit of exasperated smile. “I’m planning to try and avoid pain and death.”

The maggots don’t bite.

“Be specific.” I growl.

“There isn’t much else to it!” She chuckles nervously. “Your curse is… quite solid. And… and if I understood it correctly you’ve bound my life to yours. If you die, I die. So… keeping you from stumbling into that sounds like a great way to do both!”

I look away. “Okay.”

A long pause.

“Okay?”

“Tell me about your manor.” I motion to the walls. “Starting with… with what is all this weird bubbly Amwella on everything?”

“Bubbly Amwella?” She stammers, head tendrils wiggle and bounce a bit as she nibbles on her cheek for a second to… is she suppressing a smile? “You… well I don’t really know for sure, but If I had to guess you're seeing the magical energy of the manor.”

“I… You can’t see it?” I turn back to her. Fighting down a blush at how stupid I must sound.

She shakes her head, working hard to reign in her emotions and still herself. “Not without certain tools, spells, or potions. And I wouldn’t describe them as… bubbly.”

I growl. Remember the foul thing Thendra had me drink. Wonder… Yeah that was probably what’s making me see all this. But then why did she not just tell me what it would do!?!

“It should be quite harmless!” She says while raising both hands at my annoyance. “Just… extensions.”

“Of?”

She huffs, motions around as she rises. “Of the Manor’s soul or… or where it could be if it wanted to. I’m trying to keep this simple for you. It’s complicated and involves less chance of death for both of us.”

I chew on her words. Think about my objectives and how best to grasp them. But if this watcher will just… help me. Then…

“Take me safely to its heart.”

* * *

*

Oh… OH Dreamer’s Tit’s this place is weird. Tretion had taken me from a pretty manor covered in weird bubbles through a passageway and door that suddenly was just… like… all bubbly mess. Stuff seems to come up to my hips, while still being very untouchable. Even to my Naranggas.

Ahead by about a dozen or so feet is a wall like the ones in the damp entryway, and on that wall is a… uh… thing. Purple and red and pulsing and wriggling and really really gross.

“Eck.” I can’t help but say after a few moments of staring.

“Yes, very Eck.” Tretion agrees. “I try to avoid fiddling with things here. It’s… temperamental. Just barely bound to me. It took me years to get it to even let me set up the keys you now hold.”

I glance down to the ring of big disparate keys she’d given me. Twelve in total.

“How did you do it?” I ask, content to wait outside the room until I know exactly what to do.

“Lots of trial and error. It doesn’t understand any modern tongues, and the old things it does understand it loves to ignore.” She huffs. “So… you can imagine how impossible it was to even know what commands would work and which wouldn’t.”

“How can it be a command if it can just… ignore it?” I turn to glance up at her.

She looks away, suddenly… very much careful with her words. “I don’t know for sure.”

I hiss. “Tretion, why are you avoiding being truthful with me?”

She winces, “Two reasons. First is I don’t want you to fiddle with something you don’t understand. I think this is a bad idea and want to steer you from it. Second is that It gave me a fleeting idea on how I might be able to resist you if needed.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “By just… trying to ignore me? Plug your ears and… what? I’ve already set boundaries that would stop you from doing much.”

She smirks then, head tendrils wiggling about in sudden… I don't know! Excitement? “Exactly, which is why I quickly discarded the idea. Your commands seem to weave together well. And they are very flexible when you demand something, but rigid when I’d like to wriggle around technicalities.”

I tilt my head, studying her. “Then why are you smiling? That’s a bad thing for you.”

Tretion lets out a... a sigh. Like she's decided to let something heavy fall away. Her smirk doesn’t falter as her eyes flit back down to me, eyes still alight with Amwella senses. “Because, Lyra, you’re cute and clever and I’m enjoying watching you try so hard to figure all this out.”

I flinch. Feel my mouth open and close as heat rises on my cheek.

“Wh– what!?!” Is all I can hiss out. But it comes out a little shrill.

Her smirk turns to a grin, head tendrils curling in odd patterns. “You asked. You’re like an adorable jungle kitten on her first hunt. And that’s… more comforting than what I feared you were. Less cruel or–”

I fight down the blush, growl then. Let my Naranggas whirl out and around her. “I could kill you in SO many ways right now Tretion. Was ready to if my curse didn’t take, or you cut off my song.”

No more than a twinge of worry touches her eyes. She seems... almost expecting or... or almost anticipating me to hurt her. “I wasn’t meaning to imply you aren't one of the most dangerous young women I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter.”

That stutters me again, but I manage to give her a hard glare. “Then what did you mean? Precisely.”

She sighs, eyes flitting to follow my Naranggas movements. Not in fear though, just... curiosity? Even her head tendrils seem to try and follow along with their movements.

“You’re not a monster. You’re… you can be cruel, certainly. But it’s not really you. Thendra’s a monster, her Reavers are monsters, I… I’m not sure what I am. But you…” Eyes turn down to regard me. “You’re not one. At least not yet. You don’t enjoy causing people pain, not really.”

I have to turn away as my traitorous little maggots don’t refute her words.

“No… But… I have to do this.” I murmur as her words ring true. “I’ve had to do a lot of… of horrible things to survive.”

A pause.

“I know.” She whispers back, head tendrils slumping a bit. “Me too.”

A longer pause.

“Just… keep the door open.” I demand. “This won’t take long.”

I hope.

And I turn to move, but a hand reaches out to touch my arm. I jerk back, Naranggas flaring back out in sudden fear.

Tretion holds her hands out, palms up. “Sorry. Sorry. Just… You should take me with you. That thing hates strangers and barely puts up with me. If you go in alone it might just decide to mush you between the walls or something.”

I huff. “Fine, ignore the last command. Just… don’t touch me.”

She nods, and we wade through the uncaring bubble mess to approach the weird blob on the far wall. It… it really does look like just a glob of some internal organ got splattered here!

Ugh. Eck!

“Okay, so… What are you trying to make it do? How can I help?” She prompts as we approach.

“You can’t.” I step up to it. Shut eyes and focus my…

WHAT!?!… How did she lie to me!?!

“Tretion.” I turn back to her, a glare on my face as I stare at her core. “Where is this thing’s soul?”

She takes a step back. “Oh… You… it’s kinda everything in here. I can kinda see it when I’m in the room like this. Just a big mess of slopped and gathered Soulwaste.”

“Soul… What?” I drop my glare, look around.

“Soulwaste. It’s… uh… soul bits that are kept from fading once their host dies.”

“I… but… this is its soul!?!” I rake a few Naranggas through the floor and the big blob. Nothing happens, no resistance.

She wriggles her hands and tendrils in a so-so gesture. “When it wants to have one. Otherwise it’s happy to just… sit there. Sometimes do the little things I ask.”

I slump. “Dreamer’s Tits.”

How am I supposed to get this to work!?!

My Naranggas must flail around in such anger, because Tretion takes a step back. “Um… Lyra. I… If you need time we can go sit down. Talk through what you need from it and form a plan on how best to get it. I really do mean to help you as much as I can.”

I turn to glare back at the blob. Raise twitching right talon to rest on it. It’s… Oh that’s weird. It’s way too warm. Like… like a steaming mug or–

A little eye pops open next to my talon.

“Uh… Lyra...!” Tretion calls, a good amount of panic in her voice.

Oh! Oh I can work with this! I grin at the eye as it rolls about, then turns to gaze up at me.

I take a few deep breaths, then gather up my Amwella. Prepare my words, and sing a curse at this thing as I twist my talon to carve a blood brand into its weird overheated flesh.

The curse bites deep, but I force my way through the song and pain.

I expect… something. A struggle or a shaking of the manor. Maybe darkness like what Thendra could do at her home. But… it just stares back at me. Expressionless.

Maggots fall from my fingers to writhe and wriggle and swim through the bubbling mass of Soulwaste at my feet.

PERFECT! My heart sings in triumph and victory.

You will obey all of my (Lyra’s) commands.

It continues to stare as my song fades and blood drips from my eyes.

“Okay… Okay…” I huff out. “I… Take me to the vault, disable all the traps, open the main chest.”

A pause. My maggots begin to nibble and spread and–

No.

Then I watch in horror and disbelief as the Soulwaste around each of my little maggots just… rots. Fades like I’d seen Voe’s soul chunks do, takes my cursed things with it. When I jerk up to stare at its flesh bits, I get to also watch as my cursed mark just… kinda pops. Like a bad scab it bleeds for a moment, then falls away.

Oh… Dreamer’s Tits!

Then… there is another pop, and a second eye appears.