CW:

NEW POV TIME! Hope you enjoy this FIRST chapter from our golden-eyed Fae's perspective!

YES! I feel a thrum of hope as she embraces my lover. Together we can calm her! Show her the love and joys a life in the Fae-Wood can bring. Then the others will have to accept that our remedies of love and care will–

But with a pained smile and those horrid words from the taller woman, Lyra is stolen away in a thundercloud of green mist. An incredibly odd and powerful Riftwalk normally exclusive to ancient beings or incredibly mature Fae, one that leaves no hint or trace as to her intended destination.

A long stunned pause settles on us.

Tretion couldn't know how her words from before, despite their attempt at a sort of humor, can sting and harm a gathering of Fae.

A suggestion that we are heralds of despair to our family is… such a cruel thing to imply!

But... I like Tretion.

A lot, actually.

When I’d first seen her at Lyra’s back my worry was that she was a creature of Thendra’s. Some hook or threat or other to ensure Lyra would return to her. But… her words, the way her eyes danced over my estranged lover.

She desires Lyra to find comfort and happiness. Totally enraptured by our stubborn girl’s desperate fight for peace in a dream that seems to chafe at her.

Seeing Lyra fully clothed, bearing a weapon, and brimming with confidence I had hoped… hoped that she’d left Thendra. That maybe in her fight to keep that promise spoken last we met she’d seen that Dreamer Blighted Monstrous Cunt for all that she was and left.

Maybe saved another soul in the process.

Dreamer’s Tits! I’d drag the watcher into an Amwella dance of her life with us if she’d helped convince Lyra to leave that horrid woman behind forever!

But… No. Only till sunrise.

And my heart broke at the thought of losing her to that monster again.

But... I'd sat with the watcher after… after I had to leave my father to settle into his anger. Even with the curse dormant and my pleading for him to just… Just stop! Watch. Think and observe how well positive things settle her stirring.

But… it didn’t work! We'd shouted and yelled at each other like we'd never done before. Said things... things that still tear at my heart and soul.

It could take days for me to show him what I see in her. Will take more now.

So... to distract from the pain of it I'd asked her how she and Lyra met.

“Thendra sent her to kill or enslave me.” Tretion had said with such an odd smile. One that showed a wounded soul finally accepting some dreamer blighted happiness.

Something I’d treasured on Lyra in those quiet and perfect weeks after we’d first met. “But instead, she risked everything to achieve an impossible goal while keeping me safe. Showed me kindness that I haven’t known since before my grandmother last turned her displeasure on me.”

I didn’t even need to ask who this watcher’s kin was, and feared to know more about this thing Thendra had demanded of Lyra. So we'd talked about small things till my lover returned.

Then, through all this messy argument with Melivias, Tretion remained so close to Lyra, despite the rot that begun to spill from her talon. And when she stepped up to wrap such kind and supportive arms around my lover I had felt such a spring of joy!

But... no. She swept her away.

And none of my rising fury is even partially aimed at her.

She might have just saved Lyra in a way I couldn't hope to match.

I’m whirling on them all, snarls of rage I’ve never felt ripping through my throat. “Are you all just… completely blind? Raised from some deep sea fish or mole and wish to return to that?”

Dad just… glares at the spot where Lyra stood. Melivias is giving me a worried but contemplative stare. Usete seems like they did when first I brought them here; Mourning a loss they struggle to understand and think through properly.

But Yuna, Lyra's mother… Her look of silent shame roils my anger.

“Kid…” My dad growls. Conveys in a few low rumbles an eternity of disappointment and worry and stubborn hatred for every choice I’ve made since we parted at the Rorliras.

I ignore him, turn my glare to Yuna.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Bringing her here was… I’d hope she’d be the bridge Lyra needed. Or a guiding star to lead Usete and her back into peace. Help explain the wounded Fae’s pain like none other could and bring Usete to believe in our way of healing. Then, In turn… Usete could help me settle my dad’s stubborn rage.

But… I can see in her eyes that she let them tear at each other with words while she just watched.

Too worried or afraid or… worse. I can see anger in her eyes, but… one born of pain. She doesn't blame Lyra for the curse on Usete. Even now.

She knows Lyra as I do. Alone and scared and grasping at whatever happiness she can find. Any scars she lashed out to strike are done as many wounded of our forests would do.

And as Fae we should know better than to corner and harass a wounded panther.

“Awnya,” Melivias begins to murmur, that old tone of a teacher wandering into her tone. “We need to find her. Now. Where did she go? Tell me and I can follow and contain this–”

I ignore her, advance on Yuna. “Did you tell her?”

A long pause. Everyone else misunderstands my question. But Yuna meets my eyes, a mother’s sudden protectiveness rising up.

“No.” She says flatly. “There wasn’t a good moment for it here.”

I hear movement, a whistle and chirping of soothing songs. Don’t even need to look back to recognize Melivias’s melody as she undoubtedly works to heal the scars left by Lyra’s stirring.

Smothering the rot and ruin that so easily bleed from my lover.

“And you’re nearly six days alone with her before?” I press. “You realize that I didn’t rush back because I thought she’d need time to… to figure out what that could mean for her? Wanted to make sure you had time to find the words.”

She gave me no promise, but I didn’t think to ask for one. She seemed to understand my perspective and respected my opinion as the Fae trusted to help Lyra.

But… she’d let Lyra leave instead. Let her go back to Theradas and fall into that monster's arms. Let all this spiral into chaos as next I knew my lover stood ready to blight my dad with curses outside the Rorliras.

I… I hadn’t told her much about Thendra until this past week. Didn’t think she needed to know just how horrible I thought she might be.

Lyra was playing at riftwalking, sure but… but such songs normally take at least a decade to go from unstable nonsense to real reliable rifts! Even with Lyra's talent for learning new songs I'd never dreamed she could get one open so quickly.

She looks past me then, over to my old mentor’s workings. We can all feel the rot, sense the horrid things it could fester and spread as. Especially here, at one of the beating Hearthfires of the dream.

“Not here, Awnya. It’ll… It will make things so much harder when they find her.” She whispers.

I turn to watch Melivias rise and regard us with sudden curiosity. She means to move quickly and with speed. But will hesitate here if it means she can learn more about her prey. Good. I need to give Lyra as much time as possible without actually giving the old hawk anything to use to find her.

“I promised you my silence in this because I trusted you knew what was best for her. Then thought you meant to tell her when I explained how it would help her.” I take a careful step back. “Not because I thought it should not be said."

I wave a hand over the group. "And now you’ve all laid out to her, again, that any Fae she meets will bring only more pain.”

Usete grinds their teeth, obviously wants to say something. But my guess is that Lyra’s new commands stop them. Much like my final words to my dad to hold his tongue. The only ones that can speak of my violet eyed lover now are disinclined to do so.

Yuna winces, hurt by my words. But not surprised. “I… I only want her to find happiness. To… to ignore that past and find–”

“So, shall I tell these fools or will you?” I turn away. “Either works for me.”

Melivias tilts her head, and even my dad pauses, eyes all a flicker with curiosity.

Good. good good good!

It… I doubt this will change their minds. But they literally can’t think any less of her now. Not after seeing how easily she can just… bleed rot directly into the dream. And if we’re lucky… it might gain us an ally or two when they spread the knowledge!

Get a few older Fae very very interested in helping and teaching her.

Yuna surprises me then, steps up and grabs my arm in a fury and snarls. “Don’t you dare!”

I turn to regard her. “Why? Why keep this from her? Why not celebrate what she’s overcome. Change her shame and self-hatred into pride and admiration?”

“I will not have you speaking those agonies back into her life. Not after… not after she has been fortunate enough to forget them.”

I sigh, annoyed. “She remembers why the humans hated her, Yuna. Even if she didn’t talk to you about it.”

"She… I know she didn’t like to talk about them." That breaks some part of her, face twisted in such shame at my words. “But… But this is so much worse than that!”

“Yeah, because taking four years to master the songs it took the rest of us like… ten to even grasp was totally just people's thoughts and not a deep loathing of her own body.” I roll my eyes and reach down to pull her loosened hand off my arm. “She told me exactly why they chased her off. Just... Doesn't remember the-”

My words just... cut off. I have to take a breath, unable to break this promise song I gave her all those nights ago. Despite my fury and desire now to shout this last horrid part of Lyra's past to this group.

“Awnya,” Yuna hisses through a whisper. “Just… let this stay lost and buried to her. If it's not come back to her after all these years then it probably never will!”

I shake my head. “She deserves to know. It’ll help her settle and calm. Maybe—”

“Or finish breaking her!” Yuna pleads with such a shrill tone. “Why can’t we just… find her and deal with the pains of today? Why are you so desperate to drown her with more agony?”

I flinch back, suddenly horrified at why Yuna might not be fighting harder to help Lyra. To... To keep her safe. Why… why she thought the Dead Dreamer’s wood might be…

I glare at her. “Tell me that’s not what you thought might happen.”

A pause.

“When you told her to run, twelve years ago. Tell me. Right now. That you didn’t even have that thought when you told her to go there.” My voice is quiet now, but hard and boiling with obvious anger. “Else I’ll break my promise and never speak to you again, Yuna.”

Such a cruel threat. Even to one I’ve only grown to know well in these past weeks. For a Fae to offer silence to another is the worst kind of spoken disdain for their remaining time amidst the Dream.

But… if she really tried this… she deserves nothing less. To hope that Lyra might return to—

Yuna looks away, ashamed. “I didn’t hope for it. No. I… I hoped she would… Would maybe...”

Her answer isn’t as bad as I feared, but nor is it right. I step back then, and take a deep breath.

This is only the second person I have ever truly wanted to strike in anger.

“Wonderful.” I spit, then turn to my elders. Level them my hardest glare. “I mean to find and help her. She is mine. And I will bleed my last drop of soulfire before I will let anyone take her songs or form.”

The threat hurts my dad, but it’s a familiar pain to him now. Melivias’ eyes go wide, but… she has praised me as her equal in our work for nearly five years. Maybe…

I look to her. “Old Hawk, Will you assist me in any way I require? Trust in your own teachings and my judgment?”

She hesitates, looks back to my dad then to Usete. “What would you ask of me, little sparrow?”

* * *

The manor is quiet as I push through its big double doors, immediately calling out.

“Lyra!”

A pause. Nothing. So I begin to storm up the steps to the one place I dread to find her. Fingers grip my dagger’s hilt as I move through the hallways. Don’t even hesitate as I get to Thendra’s room. Find myself caught between relief and worry at not finding Lyra in the arms of that big cunt.

I can only twitch at horrid imagining of how she must treat her between those spiced quilts.

“Lyra!” I call out again. Spend another half hour carefully moving through the manor, calling out for her. But… finding nothing. No Thendra, no Lyra.

Just... rumbling considerations from this living beast Thendra somehow tamed.

It was only after I left the Twilight Court that I’d realized my mistake. The… the word I’d used.

Fix.

How could I be SO stupid!?!

It’s… I wasn't even referring to her! More the stupid situation our family kept pushing us into. But… But from those eyes that dance and glimmer such a perfect shade of violet I can now see that words like that need to be avoided.

Thendra knew this. Back in this place's horrid darkness as our family tried to drag her away. She’d struck that cord in my lover’s heart true.

“You do not need fixing, My Lyra.” She had thrummed. And I could very nearly hear my lover fall deeper into her then.

Lyra was already hers, but that… that had hooked her soul even deeper.

Even if it was a lie of the foulest kind!!! Thendra had spent weeks and weeks changing and twisting her into whatever blighted shape she needed. But… what that is? What she desires my lover to become… I can only shiver at.

I growl and twirl my dagger about as I consider my options…

Not here. Not at her mother’s grove. Not at my home in the Midday court.

So… That leaves two choices. Either that Watcher took her to some odd unknown location, or she’s already with Thendra.

I growl, annoyed at the best chance to track her, and begin to follow the warbling thrumming tune that seems to follow Thendra, her first Reaver, and their enslaved Watcher beyond this Dreamer Blighted manor and into the pathways of Theradas… and beyond.