BIG 4k word chappy because no good way to cut it in half and keep the flow. So... Enjoy THAT!
CW:
Bubbles getting angry and almost drowning people. Discussion of slavery in Theradas. Head tendril WIGGLES!
“Lyra!” Tretion’s voice is shrill. “You… you should leave. Now. Let me try to calm it and–”
A third eye pops open, then a fourth.
I let my Naranggas whirl around me as a hiss rises from my lips. Turn to glare down at this big ugly thing. Can’t run. I’m… I’m too deep to get away!
A fifth and six and then uncountable legions of them. All different colors and shapes. Then, with a slurp, a BIG one pops open to regard me.
“Lyra!”
I ignore her in the silence following the fading echo of my hiss.
All eyes seem to glimmer and roll up and down my body, a few move to follow my twirling Naranggas. Then there is a… a low rumbling growl that rolls through the manor. Not loud, just… deep and big and…
Then all the Soulwaste begins to glow and writhe. I don’t move, but when the stuff begins to crackle and pop and hiss I know what is happening before my legs are pinned still in a sudden mound of very solid material.
Twitch twitch. Goes the right talon. Rot maggots grumble and perk up.
The eyes seem to… to narrow. Almost into a glare. Then, before I can think to move or hiss or attack, I am being slid across the floor.
A yelp escapes my lips as the mound of bubbling crackling Soulwaste slams me into the cold stone wall. Naranggas go wild, now able to carve and bite and tear at the horrible stuff. But… but I'm like a panther trying to attack the forest floor. It's too hard and uncaring to even be wounded!
I hiss and growl and struggle, pushing through another curse’s sting as I carve into the Soulwaste. Weave a couple new Laments to try and… and…
You will obey all of my (Lyra’s) commands.
A beat, the bubbling continues to wrap and writhe up my belly, shoves me up the wall so my feet aren't touching the floor anymore.
“Stop! Put me down!”
No.
The curses wither and fade, faster than before. Tretion is yelling something, trying to pull herself free of the bubbling floor that now pins us both. Words that don’t make sense and hurt my ears to listen to.
I continue to sing. Weave six more clutches of rot maggots into the bubbling mass, six more curses drip into the Soulwaste alongside the blood gushing from my eyes and mouth.
And again…
NO.
The horrid warm mass of Soulwaste is up to my breasts now, moving up my body with the slow killing regard of shifting sands. The next time talons and Naranggas strike, the bubbling mass parts to let them enter, then solidifies on them, pinning them in a vice as hard and steady as any stone or metal.
My songs jitter and twist from useless curses to… well I’m not pleading. But… but I can’t help but just… channel my helpless sorrows into my wailing melodies.
The Soulwaste is around my throat, and I know then that if it gets around my mouth I will drown as surely as if sand or water engulfed me. Tretion is screaming now. Strange horrible language tinted with a maddened mess of pleading and begging.
I accept the curses sting if it means I can weave one last song of home and love and regrets and–
The Soulwaste curls around my Amwella then, and I can’t stop a whimper from mingling with my melody as its warm mass closes around me like one of Thendra’s big hands around my neck.
Pl– Please. Forgive me. I close my eyes, and focus my last thoughts on that of Beloved Sibling and Awnya and mother and–
Everything jerks to a halt. Soulwaste just on the verge of yanking my Amwella free while the rest smothers most of my body.
I blearily open my eyes, let the song quiet a bit as I glance down to see every eye on the thing staring at me.
Wide and glimmering and… and… somethings.
Tretion calls out in more of that weird language. A low rumble is the manor’s reply.
“Um…” She whispers in words I can understand. “I… I don’t…”
Another low rumble, then the bubbles snap and go back to being a lifeless mass. Causing me to slump onto the floor. In a choking gasp I end the song. Spit blood and bile and fear onto the cold stone floor.
“Why?” I croak. “Wh– Why did it stop?”
Tretion has moved up to kneel beside me, hands and tendrils fluttering around, but remaining a few inches away at all times. Whispers. “I… Well I think it liked your final song.”
A blubbering sob escapes me at the memory of the sad thing. I look up to glare at the big ugly mass of eyes and flesh and… and…
Is… is it crying?
I glance over to ask Tretion a question, but am stopped short as I see her own tears. “Wh– What’s wrong? Why… why are you both crying?”
She sniffles, furiously wipes at her eyes. “Your song… it… Dreadweave’s Bane it was… was really something.”
I don’t know how to react to that. It… it was just a final sobbing thing.
“You… It seems really interested in you right now.” She murmurs carefully. “I’ve only ever seen the big eye open once, and it was… well about as pleasant as what just happened.”
Fighting to rise, I approach the big blob. Tretion hovering behind me in obvious worry.
“Can… Can you let me into the vault?” I ask with a whisper.
A discordant wave of blinks is my only answer.
The watcher supplies. “Maybe… maybe try asking with songs?”
I grind my teeth and look down to my own core. Bruised and scarred, weeping a little soulfire from the fresh wounds my curse inflicted. But… but enough to survive a little song.
A sigh, and I’m enduring pain to weave a melody of pleading. Asking in song for the boon Thendra demanded of me while apologizing for hurting the manor. Try to… to explain why I need this. To force such complex nonsense into a song is hard, but… maybe I can…
Another rolling wave of blinking, a low… well it doesn’t seem like a growl. Just… just a little burping reply. Then some of the Soulwaste furls and hardens inside my left talon, and when I glance down I find an odd shaped key. One that looks… well it looks to be shaped of seashells.
Eyes wide I jerk up to look at the big thing. Can’t… can’t help but lean forward and hug its big warm mass before I can consider if that would be a bad idea. Weave a stammering thanks within my song just before I end it.
The manor rumbles… seems to… to purr?
I pull away, and the eyes seem… well… I don’t know how a mass of eyes and blobby things can seem happy. But everything seems so much calmer and loose and… and like it’s relaxed.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I pat it above the big eye, and murmur a little thank you to it before turning to leave.
Tretion is just… staring down at me. Tendrils very very still. Face such an odd mixture of… things. A lot of things. Most of them I do not want to see. And as our eyes meet I can help but feel a stuttering in the plans I was just beginning to form.
“Are… What is it?” I ask. “Is this not the right key?”
She swallows, hard. “I wouldn’t know. I was never aware of a vault.”
“Then… What’s wrong?”
“Lyra, I am so sorry.” She whispers. “For… For everything. For treating you like a–”
Her apology makes me flinch, I glare away as I move past her, and try not to think about how this will probably end for the watcher. “Let’s just… Go.”
The ‘vault’ is honestly just a slightly musty smelling room. One filled with shelves stacked with all sorts of oddities I don’t care to fiddle with or think about. Especially when a few seem to hum with little wailing cries.
So I go straight back toward a desk with a single big chest on top of it. The bubbles around it pop and crackle and… huh… well that’s nice of the manor. I can’t help but smile a bit as the lid is pulled open as I approach.
And inside is just a single simple pillow, with a ring sitting in the middle. I reach in and pull it out.
Silver band, a few sapphire gemstones, and a big dull gray rock at the center with a slit carved down the middle. I clutch at this thing as I turn. Tretion has barely gotten half-way through the room. Her eyes wide and wandering at all the little things that are stored here.
“Let’s go.” I prompt, begin moving.
Her eyes and tendrils dart toward the talon that holds the ring. “Really that’s… that’s it?”
“Yup.” I reply flatly as I slip past her.
It’s not until we’re in the hallway outside, the door locked behind us that she speaks again. “What… um… What is that?”
I shrug. “No clue.”
“Then… why get it?”
Three days.
I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. I…” I wince at the thought, holding the ring between thumb and forefinger. Pause as I consider the next steps. Begin to… to shake a bit.
Can’t… can’t look at her.
A long pause. Deep breath. This wasn’t supposed to be the hard part!
“Tretion.” I murmur, very quietly. “I… I need to ask you something. And… and you don’t need to worry about my command in how you answer.”
I can feel her tense a bit at that. Both in a bit of relief, but also worry. “Alright, I’ll… I’ll still try to be honest.”
I let out another deep shuddering breath. “There… The thing you said before. When… when you were trying to… to get me to let you mingle Amwella with mine.”
Another pause.
“I… I did mean what I said. I was trying to help you, to save you.” She whispers, trying to move to get within my gaze. I see her tendrils sag and wriggle to try and hide behind her head. “But I… I’m sorry that was horrid and wrong and something my grandmo—“
“Not that!” I snap, she flinches.
Deeeeeeeeeeeeeep breaths.
“I… what would your choice be?” I glower at the wall. “Bondage or… or death?”
Her everything goes very still at my question. “I…”
I risk a glance back at her, but find a face I don’t want to see. Not one of hatred or fear or some other great fury I could endure. Dry chaff for a great fire I could burn. Even cold regard would harden me for my next steps.
But her face is… pained. Pained in sadness and worry. But… also a great deal of pity. Pity for me, and the choices she sees me struggling to make.
“That depends.” She gives me a little smile just before I jerk away to stare at the wall again.
“On?”
“Who would hold my restraints? Am I simply a soul to be consumed, or flesh to be used? What little freedoms and rewards and punishments can I expect? I’d like details before answering. If possible.”
I try to use her words as the fuel. “You sound intimately familiar with the cruelties of this.”
She lets out a sigh of bitter laughter, tendrils do a sort of exasperated shrug and sag that ends up covering half her face. “You met my grandmother, yes? She was very devoted to her scion’s education in such things.” Then her voice goes… small. Not a whisper but… close. “She… She made us… made me… well… let’s just say I wasn’t able to indulge in kindness to those bound to me until I was well and truly away from her immediate sway.”
My anger falters, but… I fight to rekindle it. “And how many have you bound to yourself, exactly?”
“Four.” She replies immediately. “If you count Lenelope and yourself.”
“And where are the other two?” I nearly hiss.
“Dead.” She whispers then. “I tried to keep my affections for them a secret. Even… even tried to free them a few times. But… I wasn’t careful enough, and my grandmother sought to hurt me by taking them. Made… made me watch while she tormented then ate them both.”
That jolts me to a stop. Anger stutters out as I look back to see her pained face. “Why?”
“Because she was horrible and hated me.” She’s staring past me now, eyes such a mix of pain and anger at her dead matron. “I happened to annoy her in some small but public way.”
I look down to the floor, anger draining from me like blood from a wound. debating… debating… Would… would the trinket be enough? Will she accept just this?
I make a decision then. Honestly it was made the moment she said those things, but… I can’t go farther than this.
Not even for Thendra. I chose this, Tretion did not.
“Fine.”
A pause.
“I… I didn’t really answer, did I?”
“You did.” I grumble. Annoyed she wasn’t just… just some horrible flesh eating soul drinking Dreamer blighted thing I could sacrifice for this. “And… and it doesn’t matter.”
“Lyra?”
“I’m leaving, and I assume the only way out is to riftwalk from beyond that rune door?”
Another pause, then she nods and leads me through the house back to the entrance. And without needing my command she steps forward to open the gateway. Revealing the cold damp chamber beyond.
I take a deep breath. Look down at my Amwella, and pause.
So… so bruised and small and… and I hadn’t even tried a riftwalk since I came back to Theradas. I expected it would take me a few tries to get it right again. It was one of the most costly songs I can use, and would tear such horrible furrows into my soul.
“Dreamer’s Tits.” I hiss and move into–
A crackle and a pop, then something catches my foot. I glare down.
Amwella bubbles hold me in place.
I jerk on my leg. Then look back up to Tretion. “What’s it doing?”
She looks down, then lets out a little laugh that causes her everything to tremble a bit. “Seems the manor doesn’t want you to leave.”
I glare down at the bubbling mass. “Why?”
Tretion takes on a ponderous look. “Well… I’d say it’s either suddenly become very possessive of some charming Fae woman. Or…”
I turn my glare up to her, she just… smirks innocently back, and lets her voice go soft. “Or it understands the stupid thing you’re about to do.”
I look away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Lyra… I’ve been watching you tear your soul apart since you ensnared me with your curse.” She sighs, “And a riftwalk is quite taxing anyway. I can’t imagine you're in any condition to try something so complex.”
She’s right. But… What other options do I have!?!
“Why not let me take us?” She offers, then asks. “Why not demand I take us?”
“You suddenly want to be bound to me?”
“I…” She shifts, a smile drifting off her lips as she stares past me. “I think being close to you is a great way to ensure your safety, which will in turn keep me alive. Especially considering where you intend to return to.”
Carefully, I twist to… to try and show the manor that I’m pulling away from the door. It very slowly unwinds the bubbles from me, but keeps them solid for a few seconds.
A message. Don’t try to leave.
With a little pop, they disperse, and I notice the doorway seal again.
“Let me take us.” She holds out a hand for me, even her head noodles lean toward me a bit.
I glare down at it. “I… No.”
A long pause.
“Lyra… I don’t know Theradas traditions well… but I did brush up on their slave law.”
Her words make me tense.
“My grandmother only recently took up residence there, so I’d not grown up under that system. I was curious how much of an issue snatching you up would be. Some places are very strict about how one may… well… acquire another’s property. If you’ll excuse that horrible word to explain a person. But not Theradas. One can snatch up a slave without fear of anyone's reprisals, safe from their former master if they are able.”
I want to growl for her to stop, but… but her words hold my throat shut like a vice.
She sighs, continuing. “I also read about Furthonois, A god of the Old Road. A thing so bitter and terrible, but whose main sphere is slaves. Both as an owner, and a freed one.”
“I will not have this old thing’s wrath pointed at us, little Reaver.” Thendra growled, taking my chin to ensure I held her gaze. “For your freedom to be absolute, you will walk the old road. Earn it in their eyes. Remove the future possibilities of… annoyances.”
I can’t look up at her.
Can’t show her my weakness.
Or my shame.
“Their law states that a slave can attain freedom in only one of two ways.” She lays out my horrible task like one would discuss the sands. “Kill their master and bring the skulls to the temple, or offer a more valuable soul in trade to that old god. For this is a jealous and spiteful thing. It sees freedom as a right of the strong or clever, not a gift to be given.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long time. Just… letting me bask in my own failures.
“That’s why you asked. Right?” She whispers.
I nod.
“Not a monster.” She says very softly, a couple tendrils bop about in little nods.
I jerk up, and find her sad smile. “Lyra I… It’s okay. I… I’ve done… I come from a family of monsters. Of cruel and wretched things. Was raised to be of their like, even in my exile.”
I shake my head. “You… Thendra declared me her slave. Back… back a few days after she got me. Laid an offering at the god’s feet. I… But she wants me to be more than that now. Wants me…”
Tretion’s face goes a bit sickly at that. “You’re going back to her?”
“I’m a Reaver now.”
My heart still sings at that word. At the memories of how she looks at me now. Of how… how she treats me like one of her treasured warriors instead of… of just a thing to be fed upon.
Tretion moves up to stand before me. “But… If you offer up my life at the Furthonois you could just walk away from her! You’d be free in ways she could never undo. Few things in any rift will challenge that cruel god in this once you bear their mark.”
Would this change that? Will she call me a slave again when I return with only one thing?
I take a small step back. “I can’t… I’m not going to do it. Not to you, not to anyone.”
Not like her. Not as strong.
A hand comes up, hovers just under my chin, makes me tilt up to avoid her touching me and hurting herself.
“You can." She gives me such a hard look. "You should.”
“Why… Why are you pushing for this?” I step back again, shake my head.
“Lyra…” Tretion sighs, so very annoyed. "I-"
“I’m telling you that I can’t do it! That I… I’ll even…” I nearly shout. “Why do you care!?!”
Eyes dart from mine, such… confliction. Maggots nibble, causing her tendrils to twitch in pain, so she huffs and whispers pain into the air between us. “I would rather live knowing you escaped than… than worrying that you’ve gone back to face Thendra's displeasure. Even if it means my own suffering.”
Wh– What!?! She… she has to be lying! She… why would she…
“No. I… I’ll figure something else out.” Holding up the ring I still clutch. “Thendra will be happy with this. It… It can be enough for now.”
She looks back to me, bites her lip. “Enough for what?”
“I… It…”
One day is better than none. I can just… I can do what I need to in that time!
“I needed her to let me have something.” I glare at the ring as I lower it. “This… This isn’t everything she asked for. But… I can make this work. Will offer other things if–”
But what else could I give her?
“Lyra I–”
“No!” I growl. “I’m not going to do that. Stop trying to convince me.”
Her mouth clamps shut, eyes alight with such frustration. I can’t stand to look at her. Why does she care!?! I… does she think I mean to do worse? Or… or just… leave her here?
“I can’t remove the curse I laid on you, but I can nullify all my old commands.” I murmur. “Just… just demand you don’t try and seek revenge on Thendra and me.”
She pauses. I look up. Expecting to find surprise and sudden acceptance of my plan. But instead I only see… see… Confliction.
“I…” Rot maggots perk up, hungry and ready to nibble. Sensing disobedience. “That's what I assumed you meant. When you refused to–”
Her everything jerks as the maggots sink horrible little teeth into her soul. Tretion gasps in pain and sags to the floor, suddenly on her knees and hissing a breath out in such agony.
“Ignore that command!” I nearly yelp. “You… You can talk about whatever you want! Just… just don’t lie to me.”
She lets out a deep and pained breath, but the curse settles. Grumpy, but… obedient to my words.
“I… I’m sorry.” I whimper. “I hate this. I don’t… don’t like seeing anyone else suffer under these curses.”
She looks up. Gives me such a pained look of–
Jerking away I storm toward the gateway. “Just… unlock this again. Let me go.”
A long pause. Then I’m jerking back to watch in horror as she fights that command too. Eyes squeezed shut as fingers dig into the carpet and tendrils sort of... flail about in pain.
“T– Tretion!” I shout, run to kneel in front of her. “Just… stop fighting this. L– Let me–”
She shakes her head.
“Dreamer’s Tits!” I hiss. “Ignore those last two commands!!!”
She lets out a pained breath. Has to take long moments to recover. Her Amwella looks so torn and worn as the little maggots slurp up some of the weeping soulfire and go still.
“Why!?!” I hiss, but it’s a small and whimpering thing. “Just… Why not…”
She chokes, pauses as her tendrils sag to fall around her face. “I’d rather my reasons remain my own, if that’s alright.”
I fall back to sit on the carpet. A collection of anxiety and pain and guilt and and and…
“Please…” Naranggas wind around me as a good talon claws down my face, nearly raking and cutting flesh. “Don’t make me do this.”
There is a… a familiar popping sound. Then I feel warm bubbles wrap around my back. I turn to watch in fascination as the manor’s soul curls around me. Made solid by its will.
It’s… what is… is it giving me a hug?
Tretion is laughing then. Just… just such a messy snorting thing of pained disbelief that shakes through her. “It seems even my manor is smitten with you, Lyra.”
I let out a choking sob. Then Tretion is crawling toward me. I jerk back, both in surprise and fear of my curse hurting her. She stops just a breath away.
“Lyra.” She whispers so softly. “I have an idea…”
I sputter. “Wh… what?”
“You can earn your freedom. And avoid leaving me to bondage and torment.”
“I–”
“When you stand before the Furthonois to offer up your payment for freedom, it's not an offer to Thendra.”
That makes me pause. “R- Really?”
“Mhm. Really.” She smirks, head tendrils curling forward to just almost touch my face. Stopping just shy of my flesh.
“B– but. Then you’d still be sold! I… I can’t imagine what other horrible monsters might want to–”
Finger rises up to hover just before my lips, no contact. But it hushes me as if she’d clamped her entire hand around my mouth.
“That’s why…” She smirks wickedly. “You’re going to steal me right back.”