Cw:

Kidnapping, paralysis, enforced panic attacks and dismissal of trauma, thingie stabbing spine to paralyze. BEG chappy!

I try to plead, but even my jaw and tongue are clenching shut now.

A third Fae settles on the grass in front of me. He’s very greenish blue tinted with gills and a few fins. Eyes large and dark. This oceanic Fae doesn’t speak, just… hums a tune of peace and calm around us. Not… not like what dragged my watcher into unconsciousness, it’s a melody for me. A message.

Please, stop fighting. Stop resisting.

I glare through my helpless tears.

He winces at the fury of it. Weave apologies and attempts to calm me.

This goes on for a while. The thing on my back seems to… to settle, but whatever it’s doing to paralyze me does not weaken.

He weaves a question into the song. Would you like to sleep?

I let my glare, somehow, go even more murderous. Try to convey how much I just… I want to hurt and curse and weave such Dreamer Blighted pain into him.

That makes him flinch back. Purse lips in… well both worry and fear and pain.

I can’t help but feel a little satisfaction as he carefully backs away from me and settles about ten feet back.

And with every second my soul burns. The mark of Furthonois gnashing and raging at me to tear free but... unable to empower and do more than thrash against this thing's sting.

More time passes, then there is a wash of warmth from behind me. The melody of a riftwalk?

“Oh! You really got her!” A soft energetic voice says.

The weird fish Fae stands and moves from view as a tall and lean woman with rippling red scales and a mane of dark purplish hair steps into my view. Squats in front of me.

“Hi.” She smiles with a mouth full of pearlescent teeth. Her dark eyes glimmer and dance as they flit over my paralyzed Naranggas.

I let out a gurgling hiss in reply. Fix my glare to her.

She only sighs and gives me a soft pout. “Yeah, I know.” Then she kneels forward and wraps arms under my shoulders and legs. Lifts me.

“But… I’m going to take care of you now, okay?” She coos as she pulls me close, and carries me through a rift.

The vertigo feels like it hits harder despite how little I can feel. And before I can properly take in my surroundings, she is setting me back down on my side upon a beach of soft sand. I can smell some ocean things in the air… but everything is so quiet here.

“Let’s get you settled here for now.” She murmurs as my head is laid gently onto the dirt. Then she is moving to sit in front of me.

“So, let’s start with talking things.” She smiles. “I’m going to have my little friend release your jaw and throat, but if you try to sing or bite or… just start being really rude I’m going to have it stop you. Okay?”

I glare at her.

She shrugs and nods, “Alright. I give you more time to calm down. Be back in a bit!”

My glare cracks as she begins to rise. She pauses. Smirks. “Change your mind?”

I can only gurgle and try to keep my expression more… worried.

“Wonderful!” She hums a quick series of confusing discordant notes that kinda hurt my heart and head. Then my jaw and mouth unclench.

I gasp and wheeze amidst a coughing fit.

When I finally still a bit, “Wh-where’s Tretion!?!”

She shakes her head. “Names first.”

I want to scream at her then, almost do, but… from her unyielding expression I know she’ll just have this thing on my back stop me.

“L– Lyra.” I whisper. “But please. I came to help. I wanted to–”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” She holds up a hand, cutting me off. “My name is Uldra, and I’m of the Fae like you.”

A few beats.

“Where am I? This… this isn’t the Fae wood.” I try to wriggle a bit, but find everything just… horribly unable to do anything but twitch.

“Nope, it’s not.”

“Wh– why? Why did you bring me here?” I can feel the tears forming. “Are… Are you going to… to…” I swallow, hard. “Unweave me? Or… or kill me?

I’d prefer the last.

She shakes her head seriously. “No. This is one of my tilling grounds. A rift at the edge of the dream. One that will take a few centuries to clear of rot and ruin so people can live in it.”

My brow furrows. “Then… Why bring me here?”

“Because, Lyra, this is your new home.”

A pang of ice cold fear. Of… imagining this Fae taking my songs, and just… leaving me here alone.

“Please!” I nearly shout. “I… I don’t–”

“Hey hey, you’ll be okay.” She murmurs comforts. “I said I’d take care of you.”

“I don’t want this!” I twitch furiously. “I… I have a home! With Tretion and–”

“That woman you brought with you?”

I’m barely able to nod.

She sighs. “I don’t know where you were hold up with her, but… that’s not really important. We’re going to focus on helping fix you, okay?”

“B– But… I… I love her! Need her to–”

Her face goes hard, not angry just… something else. All authority and command. “Stop.”

My teeth clack together for fear of her having this horrid thing on my back forcing me into silence.

“Lyra, this is going to hurt, but I need you to understand something. Right now.” She leans down to make sure my eyes meet hers. “You’re not going to be allowed near her for a long time, maybe ever again...”

I feel my eyes go wide and start to prickle with tears, then narrow into a glare.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“What.” I hiss.

“You’ve a very dangerous girl. But… I’ve captured and kept monsters for centuries in rifts like this. This is your home, and I am the only soul you will speak with until I can figure out how to fix your problems.” She doesn’t glare back, just… keeps her stare blank. “But that could take years. Maybe longer. The faster you accept that and my help, the happier you’ll be.”

I growl and hiss and spit a few curses at her, twitch furiously to try and… and then I’m grasping at my Amwella.

She whispers a song hum, and my jaw clenches.

But… just before I’m able to dig sharp claws into the right talon and begin to weave a song of Fear and Pain and Spite at her. Feel rot and ruin and worst still gather at my back. Naranggas wriggle and begin to rise again and–

Then her hand is on my face, harsh melody quickly murmured, then the thing on my back quivers and bites harder.

…and my mind is suddenly empty.

Where– where am I?

A strange pretty Fae lady with red scales and darker eyes leans back to sit in front of me, face hard but… softening as she takes in my confused expression.

I try to speak, try to move…. But… I can only…

Then memories of today crash down. And I’m glaring.

I gurgle another hiss at her.

“You’re going to take the rest of the day to cool down.” She rises. “I’ll be back in a bit to let you drink and eat if you can stay calm.”

Then she just… leaves me.

Paralyzed and… and alone and wretchedly breaking. I spend the next few hours sobbing my anger into the warm sand.

And of course… I’m plagued by three Waking Nightmares.

My worst ever. Made even more horrid by the fact that I cannot move or scream or cling to my beloved watcher’s soul.

Twital is there, laughing and carving away at my everything. My mother and Awnya and Usete just… glare down at me. Sad and furious and hurt and and and…

“Stop.” Hisses Uldra as she returns to find that I’ve slowly twitched my way into a curled up sobbing mess.

The nightmare doesn’t lessen just… weaves this horrible Fae’s hard eyes into the motions of it.

My teeth are clattering, despite the thing that holds them shut.

“Lyra!” She demands harshly. “Stop whatever you're trying to do.”

I can’t and she just… huffs and walks away. Leaving me to endure the rest of the thing alone.

Sometime after the sun sets I think I fall into oblivion, only awake to a soft song of quiet and calm at my back.

As the song quiets Uldra moves to sit back down in front of me.

“I’m going to let you talk now. And I’d like your first words to be an apology.” She says. “Otherwise I’m going to leave you alone again.”

That, more than anything, sends such a ripple of fear through me. And I know she sees it in my eyes. So she nods, murmurs that soft painful tune, and my jaw loosens.

“I… I’m sorry.” I whimper. “P–Please. I… I can’t… I don’t know how to stop a Waking Nightmare when they start! They… Tretion’s soul would… I could cling to her Amwella and it would–”

She holds up a hand, cutting me off again. “Apology accepted, but not the rest. You don’t get excuses Lyra.”

“What?” I hiss, “B– But I can’t… I can’t stop them!”

“Don’t lie to me.” She adjusts to sit cross legged. “Ever. Lyra. This only moves forward when you–.”

“I’m not lying!” I scream.

She jerks back, then tilts her head, expression confused. “You really think that?”

I’m sobbing then, feeling a shadow of terror begin to rise again.

“I know it, you Dreamer Blighted Cunt!” I hiss, “I–”

A hiss of sound, and my jaw locks. She just… stares down at me as I gurgle and glare back. Her face is a calm and hard thing of authority and focus.

“It’s plain that you feel that way.” She says very softly, “But I know you can sing through that curse, why don’t you just… sing your mind back to what it needs to be? Remove the things before they hit?”

I just glare. She sighs, “If you start shouting again we’re going to be done for tonight.”

And then my jaw unclenches.

“I tried. Those first few weeks.” I hiss very quietly. “It… it’s not my body or mind that’s… that’s...”

Her calm sort of… falters. “It’s… then what’s the problem? No one even said you’d been suffering these.”

I just… growl. Low and hard. Both at her claim but also… also the idea of any of them knowing what was happening to me. And just… not caring.

Or… worse. Letting it happen. Barely stop myself from…. From reaching for my words of rot and ruin and wonderful maggots. My tails twitch. Her eyes flicker to them, but soon return to me.

“Then… my point stands. You’re choosing to inflict this on the dream.”

“No! I… I didn’t choose to… to…” I stammer. Trying to find the words through my anger. “They're memories that... they hurt and… I– just…”

“Show me then. When next one of these… What did you call them?” She pauses, “Waking Nightmares starts up, I’ll let you sing your Fae-shaping song.”

I huff, annoyed. “I… I can’t control them, Uldra. They… they just wash over me sometimes. Tretion also called them… like… other things. She could explain them better.”

She just… hums thoughtfully. And waits.

It doesn’t take long. Laying in the dirt paralyzed and hurting and so scared and angry and…

I squeeze my eyes shut as the torments return, feel my mind dip into a muck of misery and despair and agonizing memories I cannot pull out of.

“Okay, Lyra.” She prompts after a quick little whistle. “Go ahead. Nothing else though. Don’t betray my trust here.”

I whimper through the curse’s bite and clasp at my suddenly free Amwella. Even feel my Naranggas kick up and begin to dance and twirl about. And I sing my song of Fae shaping, plead the music to still my thoughts and calm the storm that is eating at my mind.

And just like the times before… It does not help.

I sing harder and my music becomes a wailing screaming thing. Loud and horrible and desperate to push away the tormenting memories.

And of course this causes the Waking Nightmare to redoubles their fury at the curse's bite.

I taste foul Reaver tongues as they force themselves down my throat, feel big furious hands claw and bite and force me to endure their cruel hunger.

I don’t know how long it lasts, don’t… I don't even understand where I am at the end of it.

Can’t help but cry out for Tretion and Awnya and… and even…

My dark goddess.

“Pleeeease…” I shove my head into the sand. “Let me sing.”

“Wh— what is this?” Uldra stammers, all her control just… gone. “It’s… I… I don’t understand what I just saw!?! Why didn’t your song fix you?”

Thendra’s voice purrs through my mind. “You do not need fixing, my Lyra.”

And then I’m laughing. A choking sobbing horrid sound at this stupid Dreamer Blighted situation. She doesn’t… Oh Dreamer’s Tits she can’t even begin to understand this.

Even my wretched dark goddess understands me so much better than this Fae ever could.

Because, unlike this Fae, she understands pain. And how it can break and mold a person.

Nothing to fix, only… change.

A harmony of whistling songs, and I feel my Amwella slip back away from easy reach as she weaves a melody of calm and focus for herself. As the song settles, I notice a hand move next to me, digging a furrow. Then an odd gurgling noise begins to echo up from it.

“What are you doing?” I ask groggily, trying to stifle the sobbing cackling nonsense still rumbling through me.

“Making sure you have water for the night.” Another whistle, and my hips and left arm prickle with warmth and lack of numbness.

“Don’t leave this spot.” She demands.

“Where are you going?” I’m able to twist and move my arm and hips now.

“To bed.”

I croak out a laugh as I look around at the patch of dirt she’s leaving me to rest at. “So much for Fae mercy.”

She freezes at that. “What?”

I spit. “Do you even know how this feels? Have you ever even, like… experienced a shred of real pain?”

I turn to glare at her, her expression is carefully blank, but there is such a flash of worry and… and fear. “Lyra. We’re done for tonight. Don’t–”

“No!!! You haven't.” I hiss. “None of you have! You all just…drown yourselves in love and warmth and have never once felt real Dreamer Cursed Pain!”

A long pause, she doesn’t move or stop me. So I keep going.

“What were your first memories, Uldra?” I ask, “A Fae parent taking you in and giving you a home? Teaching you wonderful Fae songs?”

She gives me the smallest of nods, begins to murmur, “It was mentioned that you’d a rough–”

“Mine was the opposite of that.” I don’t even try to stop the tears. “The humans that birthed me tried to kill me. Left me cold and broken in the woods. I didn’t even get to feel my mother’s love till after I’d expected to die alone.”

She flinches, hard. As if my sad story is a slap.

“And you know what? That’s not even the worst pain I’ve survived.” I whisper. “And here you are… telling me to just… sing that agony of it away. Fix it like a bruise or cut and not the horrid thing that bubbles up to tear my mind in half!!!”

“I…” Her stammer and wide eyes are such an admission to my thoughts.

The Fae, all of them, The beings I used to think of as so wonderful and beyond anything I could ever hope to be… are just… completely oblivious to what real agony is!

“And now you think to lock me away in some blighted rift to waste away? Some… muddled broken thing you’d rather just ignore or unweave.” Pain turns to anger, and I twist and begin to sit up a bit using the freed arm. Uldra’s almost too caught up in herself to notice my motions.

“Lyra… Don’t–”

“Let me introduce you to it then, Fae.” I hiss softly, and draw up a single word from the little Amwella I can muster in rage against this woman who would see me bound in this place.

The old brand of Furthonois finally burns HOT as I weave my Melody for The End. And in the split-seconds between those first notes, inspiration hits, and I’m directing the brunt of the song at myself.

She jolts back, lips whistling and weaving twin harmonies. One to shield herself from my wretched workings echo, the other to command the thing on my back to clamp my jaw shut.

It’s too late, and the wonderful familiar agony of this song washes through me with nary a thing of giggling familiar pain.

But… as for the thing the Fae placed on my back?

It withers at just a whisper of this word.

And before Uldra can alter her song I am a Reaver again.

The first lesson Bulderii ever taught me guides my attack as the Fae’s eyes go wide with realization at whatever thing she had attached to my back falls away.

Rotted and very dead.

So as the swirl of suddenly sharpened Naranggas wrap about her soul, the first thing I do is jam all three of the right talon’s fingers down this woman’s throat.

Cutting off her blighted weavings.

We slam into the ground and she’s already grabbing my wrists and trying to pull the rotted talon from her mouth. She’s stronger than I expect, and effortlessly is already making her soul a gooey slosh that my tails can only cut at a little.

But I don’t need to pin her, not for long.

I wail and scream a curse wrapped in all my horrid words. Blood brand on the tongue, eyes locked to hers, and a bit of her weeping soulfire from where my Naranggas already nicked her.

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

And she’s mine.

“Lie still and quiet, Fae!” I hiss as the final notes of my Lamentation.

She does after my little rot maggots nibble at her soul a bit. Hands drop to her sides as she glares up at me.

“Don’t give me that look.” I can’t help but giggle in relief. “You can’t expect me to just… lie down and let you take My Tretion from me.”

A beat, and I can see such… sudden terror wash over her as she realizes just how completely helpless she is. And I see too much of my Watcher in the look. It’s… it’s almost the same she’d given me when I did this to her.

When she saw me as a monster.

I scowl down at the memory, and begin to lay my commands as I straddle her.

“You will only sing at my command.”

“You will not lie to me, or attempt to lead me into believing a lie.”

“You will not try to restrain, capture, or hurt me again.”

“You will stay close and not run away.”

I spit and take a second to wipe my eyes and mouth of blood as I drag my hand from her mouth. “Good enough for now.”

She gags and coughs. Even lets out a bit of a whimper as I shake the talon. She bit it a little, but nothing beyond breaking the skin. She was trying to get it out, not hold it in.

“Okay…You may talk.” I lean down to straddle her. “Where did those blighted Fae take My Tretion?”

She pauses, debates–

“Answer me when I ask you a question.” I snap.

“I don’t know.”

I sigh, then the maggots bite and force her to elaborate. She forgot the second part of that command when she tried to lead me to believe she had no guesses.

Wow, my maggots really do feel out my will in this…

“But they mean to help her.” She gasps. “See if she’s cursed and treat any Amwella harm caused. You can find them in the White Wood most likely with Olits and Trtoo.”

“Hm… have you Fae discovered–”

I cut off as the question causes a stumble in my thoughts.

How to remove my curses?

I growl, and she flinches. “How are Awnya’s dad and Usete doing?”

“Not well. The father is within weeks of death. Your sibling is stable, finally, from what I’ve heard. But still has bouts of painful Amwella loss.” She quickly answers.

So no… my curses remain strong and unbreakable. I feel… simple annoyance at that. But also a touch of pride…

“Dreamer’s Tits.” I sigh, “I’d hoped Bulderii was lying or…”

I tap my fingers on her shoulder a few times.

“I don’t know who that is.” She whispers.

“I… she was the one who found me and told me to come back.” I huff. “Did… did the Fae make a deal with Thendra's Reavers or something?”

A long pause.

“I… No. None that I’ve been told about.” She murmurs, “I… It surprises me to hear that it’s even a possibility.”

I look back at her. “Huh? Then how did they Fae know to wait for me to come back?”

“Melivias had Fae watching that spot with a Stinger's Flytrap. We decided to try containing and helping you in one of my tilling grounds.”

I keep tapping, and can see her eyes twitch a bit at each motion, so I huff and stop.

“Okay, let’s keep this simple.” I murmur. “You may move.”

She flinches, but otherwise only sort of… shuffles beneath me. I lean down again to hover just above her face. “Now… Take me to my beloved.”