CW:

None? I think? GOSH that's weird for LoTDD chapter to be THIS clean of trauma! There is soul snugglies? Um... yeah. i think we're good! Lemme know if sumthing stands out!!!

Stress wakes me before dawn, and after a single final nuzzle against the big warm monster beside me, I am scrambling from the bed to get to my room.

I… I’d basically cleared out a space for myself in the days after Awnya left. Not… I mean despite the occasional fitful nap I never sleep in the bed here. But… I’ve filled the shelf with the books and scrolls Thendra’s gifted to me. The Fae book from our first studies sits on the table, and… and the scroll of paintings sits on my top shelf. I let Thendra keep the other ones.

Eck. Gross torture book and… and… other one I will not let spoil my brain right now. I don’t want this dream to end!

The bag from before my mission sits atop my beg and within a moment or two I am dressed in the rough tunic of comfy leather.

No more nakedness.

Deep breath.

Reaver… Reaver Reaver Reaver. I tell myself. Not… not a slave. I earned this.

I pause… considering… What else? IS… is there anything else I could… like… need?

Nothing comes to mind, so I’m now running down through the manor to grab breakfast and… um… wait. I guess? But as I leave the food room, I find Bulderii waiting on one of the bigger couches. The big sword I brought back rests against the shoulder of it.

“Come.” She murmurs, eyes darting up to meet mine.

I obey, curious and… confused. I only grabbed a mug of cider and a few little fruits, so as I settle beside her I hold the warm mug against my worried belly.

“You’ll take this with you.” She announces into silence.

“Huh?” I turn up to try and understand her words.

She tilts her head at the blade.

I want to argue, to… to tell her how dumb that sounds! Why would I bring a weapon like that anywhere!?! Much less to the Fae-Wood? It’s too heavy and such a pain!

“Why?” I murmur after my thoughts settle. Careful to keep it a question for details, and devoid of any argument.

“You will use it to train your Naranggas.”

I pause… confused then…

“Wait… That’s… I could touch it with my Naranggas! It cut me a few times. How?”

“Soulfire was bound to the metal. It can both cleave Amwella, and be touched by it in turn.” She explains, turning to lift the blade and hold it toward me. “Your Naranggas know how to defend you, but still resist your waking mind. You will carry this blade until they are perfect extensions of your mind and soul.”

“B–” I cut off the rebuke, knowing full well I cannot dissuade her of this.

“Lift it, practice control in these hours before you leave.”

I swallow, and reach out to curl soulfire tendrils around the big dumb sword’s hilt. It’s HEAVY but… with all three I can lift it fairly well. Even kinda… swoop it around a bit. Almost hit Bulderii once as I lost my balance and almost tripped into her. But the blade freezes just before her chest. Her own Naranggas stretched out to wrap around the flat of the blade.

I… how is… how is it not cutting her?

“Amwella is not flesh.” She sees my wide eyes of confusion. “Fury is good, control is better. But remember, Soulfire can weave into any shape if you have the will for it.”

I nod, gulp a little as she releases the blade to let the tip clink onto the floor. Take a few moments to… wonder. Is this like how I could make my soul go melty? Back when…. When…

I scowl, and avoid thinking about it. Instead focus on lifting and trying to test the limits of my tendrils strength.

It’s then that my Dark goddess comes down the steps to join us. Eyes the sword, and Bulderii, but… only nods as I struggle to find the best way to carry it. But then Bulderii pulls out a leather wrapping… thing from behind the couch. That sort of fits most of the sword’s thin blade. And helps me balance it behind me while I would move about.

And… that’s when I remember my promise to Tretion.

“OH! Um…” I wriggle about. “I… um… Just…”

Thendra quirks an eyebrow, I have to look away.

“I’m taking someone with me to the Fae wood.”

A surprised pause. A soft purr of warning. Who?

“Tretion.”

I glance up to see questions boil in my Thendra’s eyes as she stares down at me. Why? If not her, then who was your sacrifice to the Furthonois?

“She… helped me.” I whisper very quietly, looking away again. “And I made her a promise.”

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I feel a hand hover almost… almost at my chin… but then it only rests on my shoulder. I carefully look back up.

“What does she want from you?”

I wince. Ugh… that… that has too many possible answers.

“To visit the Fae-Wood.” I sidestep it, sword wriggles about behind me as I consider what else to tell Thendra. “And… she’s not upset about the… what I took. Didn’t even know it was there. We worked things out.”

Thendra purrs, seems… pleased?

I sag, so relieved, and turn toward the door. “She’ll be here at first light.”

Thendra nods, and we walk outside to wait. And just before the first prickles of light begin to wriggle across the sky, a green twisting about thirty feet away signals the arrival of the Watcher.

Tretion is wearing a gown and cloak of deep purples and green embroidered designs I can’t make out. But I can’t help but feel such a flicker of pain as I notice the long neck of the clothing that covers the blood brand I left on her neck.

Eyes flit over us. Linger on… oh the sword must seem odd. Without the ability to see Amwella it looks to just kinda… float about! But her eyes dance with a glimmer that shows her understanding.

She walks a few steps closer, then pauses. “Thendra.”

My dark goddess purrs, wicked grin playing on her lips. “Watcher.”

A long pause.

“You…” Her gaze flits to regard to my silent pleading.

Please, please please please! Just let it go!

Then, a small smile touches her lips. “I wanted to thank you again for the gift you gave to me. She is… quite perfect. Wondrous and vibrant.”

I can’t help but blush and look away. But… a stillness settles over Thendra that worries me.

A thrum of something of the ocean's deepest debts rising… rising… rising…

“Well, I was told first light. So here I am.” She announces, causing me to jerk up to meet her gaze. “I trust this won’t be a problem then? I’d offer to assist with the riftwalk but… the Fae Wood’s Song wards are beyond me.”

I glance up to Thendra, who has locked a stare on Tretion. But the watcher has ignored her and is looking to me.

I touch a large arm, hoping to quell whatever is rising within her. “I… Um… May I sing?”

A long pause, then Thendra looks down at me. Jade eyes… intense and searching. Trying to read something in me. But… eventually she nods. Seems… calmed with what she finds. And gives the command.

Ugh. Riftwalking really is hard. Even weaving Fae words of home and love and… and such wonderful things into the tune… just… it still won’t…

Three tries, and the talon is a mess of broken bones and nonsense.

Dreamer’s Tits, it’s good that Thendra just… told me to sing as opposed to a specific command! So I’m able to pause between workings to calm and crack the talon back into a decent shape, murmur healing into it to stop some of the pain, and push forward.

Another crack, failure.

Why can’t… why can’t I…

Crack. All three fingers of the blighted thing are broken... AGAIN.

I growl in anger and fury and lash out at my flawed song.

Broken, blighted, and snarling, I tear open a rift like a Reaver with my maimed talon.

I pause in confusion at the wriggling purple gateway, enjoy smells and glimmering sights I’d barely considered as I watched Awnya leave. As I hum out a healing melody for the shattered talon I turn to find Thendra giving me a predatory smile.

“Sunrise.” She says, no worry there, just… a final punctuation of her own promise.

“Sunrise.” I repeat through my song, offering her a bloody grin. “Thank you.”

Then I walk over, take up the watcher’s hand, and lead her into the Twilight Court of the Fae.

As Thendra’s command to stop sounds through the closing rift I can’t help but choke out a gasping sigh. Take in a deep breath of… of…

I look up and around, and am enraptured by the rising sun and the endless ocean she cradles. Find myself brought to my knees as the vastness of this part of the Fae wood drowns me. We stand atop some curling branches winding a stupid distance above the waters, patches of islands curling around the massive trees that strike up from the ocean. Wondrous colors weave and dance around us to a thrumming harmony. A mix of crashing waves, forlorn winds, and the hummed muses of the Fae.

The salty tang to the air is such an overbearing thing to my soul. I… why wasn’t the Midday Court like this? Its scent hadn’t smothered me. Why here? Why now?

“L… Lyra.” Tretion stands beside me, hand tightening as this place engulfs her as well.

I spit blood and bile, feeling a twinge of guilt at how maimed soul taints this perfect land. A single Naranggas curls gently around her, letting the other two struggle with the stupid sword. “It’s… I know it’s a lot, but I only have till sunrise.”

She swallows, nods, breath heavy and eyes wide. Then she turns to regard me. I expect her wonder to fade at the sight of me, but… it only seems to blossom into something… worse.

“Of… Of course. Thank you Lyra. Thank you so very much for trusting me to be here with you.”

I nod, turn to begin walking. Try to keep my own terror at what I’m sensing in her soul smothered behind the horror at what I’m about to face.

One… one mistake at a time.

Listening and… and following their song is simple enough. Even amidst the cacophony of distracting melodies the things I follow burn as solid as the firebugs in the pitch of midnight.

I… I can feel the stares of the Fae watching and flitting about. Can hear the songs tilt from curiosity to worry to… a few of… worse things. Immersed in love and life, and only just now spotting things from beyond that. Like the first real shadow crossing a field as the light dies, we walk the long pathway.

They don’t follow, don’t wish to chase whatever they sense in me. I can only imagine their fear at the Naranggas and the blade at my back…

We’ve reached nearly the end of the branch we move on, and spend the next hour descending down toward the sea, but soon the thing is spiraling down, revealing a small disparate grouping of Fae homes shaded by a few of this branch’s large leaves.

One thrums with the melody I seek.

As we approach, I can hear her humming. Can’t help but quicken my pace and nearly drag Tretion along. This home is fairly small, more akin to the place Awnya and I stayed together. A twisting gnarled thing of wood and branch, made to mimic the shapes of the Seashells below.

Awnya steps out the door before we even get within fifty paces. Some weaving of song wards alerting her to our approach. Such a… a confused look on her face as she peers out the big archway.

Eyes lock on us, flitter between like… like for a second she doesn’t recognise me.

Then her gaze finds mine and such a wonderful smile is suddenly all that exists. I feel my talon slip from Tretion’s as I run the rest of the way. She meets me halfway, and I can’t stop my everything from wrapping around her. Even hear the big stupid sword drop to the ground behind me.

She doesn’t even flinch as my Naranggas curl about her soul, only murmuring a few eternity's questions as I just melt into her. Just… indulge in the wash of… her love that my Naranggas show me. I know I should keep a distance and try to… to push her away.

But… right now I just can’t! Even with such guilt staining this.

Only muster myself to pull back enough to whisper. “I’m here to help. Redo their commands.”

Awnya pauses, her soul sputtering as a wash of worry seems to lessen. “I… Okay. Yeah. Dreamer’s Tits! That… Wow yeah that will be perfect! ”

She pulls back enough to get a look at my face, a great warm smile radiating from what I now see to be tired eyes. Suddenly alight with a hope that wasn’t there. “We… Are you good to start now? Dad’s out back… he’s… I think he could use it the most but…”

I nod, “I… yeah. He’ll be… I think… the easiest.”

A pause, her eyes drift past me. “And… who’s this?”

I feel the watcher step up and her soul dip in a bow. “Tretion, granddaughter of Watchers.”

“I… huh. Well okay.” Awnya rolls along, seems to calm a bit. “Gotta say, the last few watchers I’ve been around were spooky gooses, but you seem friendly enough. Here to help Lyra?”

“In all things.” Tretion seems to… oh she’s picking up the sword for me. “My life is bound to hers.”

I sigh, a wash of more guilt at… at… at the hurt I caused so many. Just for being alive. Just for wanting to sing.

“Alright! Neat.” Awnya lets the hug loosen, but only so that our bodies aren’t fully entangled. Doesn’t even seem to worry about the soulfire snuggles. “But… could you be troubled to… like wait out here? This is kinda family stuff.”

I turn enough to nod to her. She’s… ugh… I don’t want to wonder at that look in her eyes.

“Of course.” Tretion nods, gives me a smile. “I’ll be enjoying this all until you come for me.” Then she walks over to an edge of the little branch this is all on and just… sits to watch the sunrise.

At least I can give her that bit of happiness.

Once she’s out of earshot Awnya turns back to regard me seriously. “So… What's your plan here?”

“Oh… um…” I look down. “Well I was thinking of just… telling them to ignore my past commands and sort of… going from there. Avoiding the ones that seem to hurt them.”

Awnya’s nodding excitedly. “Yeah yeah yeah! That sounds perfect. Dreamer’s Tits if we… if we can just… talk this out I think we might be able to avoid using them at all.”

I wince. Remember just how… how angry and set they were. And… how a Fae has been ripped from the dream…

“I… I can try.” I murmur. “But… Awnya I can’t risk–”

A Finger, quick as lightning, up and touching my lip. “Course not. Just… last time was a mess of bad things all happening at once! And you’re here now. No Theradas or Thendra or…”

She trails off… soul echoes with such… horrible things as she sees the truth. I try to pull my Naranggas free. But to my surprise Awnya’s soul melts a bit and curls to hold them close.

A long pause as I gently try to tug my stubborn tail free of her soul’s grip. Feel a wash of such confliction and desire and love and fury from her that’s hard to handle.

“You’re going back.” It’s not a question.

I nod, can’t meet her eyes. “Sunrise tomorrow.”

I expect a wave of arguments, of… of pleads and promises to stop me and… and…

“I… Okay. Let’s just… deal with one problem at a time.” She whispers, releasing my Naranggas. I force them back into their normal slow wriggles. They still lean heavily toward her, but don’t latch on.

“So I think it would be best if you like… clear your commands and let me talk to him. Alone.” She takes up my good talon in her hands. “You can like… place commands so he can’t leave, or sing others here. Or sing anything with you around.”

I pause. And… honestly that sounds way better than me having to try and convince him of anything. I… I still hate him. SO much. But…

“Okay. I… I’ll make him follow your commands. It’ll be simpler that way.”

She nods and kisses my fingers, a great deal of relief washing through her. “Thank you, Lyra.”

I sigh. “Where's Usete?”