CW:

Burn wounds. memory of being murdered. self-mutilation. Thoughts of suicide. Mention of sex gained through coercion via song magic.

A roar of fury, and the Duchess is slamming me into the wall by the scruff of my tunic.

“Raska!” Zephin tries to come closer, but the blazing soul of the duchess is just… too hot now! Only Wren could approach.

But… her onyx eyes are wide with fear and anger and pain. Not for Raska’s rage, but for what she’d been told about me.

“Disgusting fucking–” Raska growls.

“Raska!” Sevy screams, tries to run to us, but Wren holds her back as the Everflame's spark hisses and softly screams in fury.

“Take a breath!” Zephin pleads. “Ukalon’s Tits and Teeth just… tell us what’s–”

Raska doesn’t even turn to regard her as she nearly shouts. “She lied to us, Zephin. She was never human. Never born wrong. She’s a fucking Fae!!!”

A long pause… and I watch in shame and horror as their expressions turn at first to disbelief. Then to… to fear and…

Anger.

I pull on Raska’s wrists, try to… To choke out explanations and apologies and–

Raska snarls and pushes me up the wall so now my feet are dangling and kicking uselessly.

“What was it then?” She growls, “Some kind of fish? No…. no you’re too pretty for that. Probably some song bird plucked from the nest by some perfect Fae parent. Given everything.”

I… I try to tell her. Oh Dreamer’s Tits if… if she would just drop me and let me explain I could… could fix this! Tell her that I’m barely Fae! Especially now! That I really was human!

“You know how many of your kind have flitted through here over the years, Fae?” She squeezes tighter, blue flame between her horns quiver with barely bound fury. “Almost a dozen since my birth. And do you know how many helped our kind? Taught us even the barest hint of magic so that we could mimic a fraction of their flesh-changes? Even when we begged them to help?”

“Raska…” Wren murmurs.

“NONE!” The duchess nearly screams. “But are they oh so happy to just… mingle with our Amwella and take anything they can when we catch their fancy. Use their songs to... to muddle thoughts and...”

The blue flame twists free, begins to dance and writhe around her soul in silent fury. Just… waiting for the whispered words that will burn my body and soul from the dream.

“And here you are. Playing the helpless bitch to an actual monster. Someone I only use because my mother’s cracked a deal with the cunt.” She spits. “Pretending you're just… too traumatized to talk. Holding back songs that could help so many that are hurting.”

The blue flame drifts close, and Raska’s soul roils. Already… already beginning to melt at the dozens of Naranggas that I press back flat against the wall.

“Stop!” Sevy pleads. “Just... look at her! She… she’s not…”

I barely notice Wren step up beside the duchess while Zephin and Sevy hold each other in the corner. Lays a solid by slightly melty hand on her shoulder. “Remember your oaths.”

Suddenly the duchess cools, but… doesn’t release her grip as she whisper so softly I almost miss it. “The worst part? The biggest insult? Is that here you are taking advantage of someone I love. Someone who was literally kept as a fucking pet by one of your kind.”

Wren’s grip tightens, And Raska closes her eyes, trembling in fury. Then she drops me, and I slump to the floor in a sobbing heap as she hisses. “You don’t deserve our stories.”

A few tense heartbeats flutter past. But... No one steps over to help me. To comfort me or to… to…

Raska kicks me. Not… not really that hard. But enough to toss me into stumbling bodily toward the window.

When I look up she is glaring those blazing blue eyes at me, pointing a finger. “Out of my sight, Kujdestar. I’ll bear your presence on the battlefield in two days, but come near or speak another word to me or mine and I’ll make sure you burn for it.”

Of course, now of all times is when my mouth and tongue decide to force out blighted words.

“W– Wasn’t L–”

Barely a whisper of painful incantations from her, and the entire left half of my body is consumed in blue fire and terrible pain.

I can’t scream, can only slump against the open window as Raska’s blaze chars gifted clothes and skin. Leaves my entire left arm and half my leg and chest a mess of throbbing red and black bubbling burns that immediately hurt like nothing I've ever felt. Pain seems to... to lace through every little nonsense twisting of Fae flesh.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The world jiggles, and… and everything inside is howling at me to run.

To hide.

To… to just stop being.

An old Shrike rings in my ears. One I’d only twisted into a few songs since… Since I killed my last lover. And so I twist and just… drop out the window. Let a wailing Riftwalking song take me to my Dark Goddess.

Momentum is carried through Riftwalks, but I already knew that. Learned it my first time. And now… I savor the pain of it. Bask in the crunch of a few bones and the flash of light that jolts through my skull as I crash down into the hard stone floor.

None of it helps dull the anguish howling through my soul, but between that and my throbbing burns I reclaim a furious focus.

Kindle an anger that could very well carry me to my death.

I push myself to my feet, Naranggas already a flurry of weaving soul death, and roll through this little manor like a storm.

Leave the broken bones and burns, let them… let them keep my mind sharp with horrid pain.

It’s nothing like Thendra’s home in Theradas. That beast is alive and angry and is only happy to devour any flesh and souls given to it. This place is just… dead wood and cold stone. A few Reavers peer out from a few doors and hallways. But one look at my eyes and soul and they run. Hard. I can even sense that some flee the manor.

That should make me happy. Finally! Finally those flesh eating soul drinking blighted things have learned to leave me alone. But it only makes my Naranggas move faster and with more fury. Preening for souls to shred.

I find the woman I seek in what I think is… some kind of dining room or study or… something. It doesn’t matter. She’s already standing, face a blank mask as she looks at me.

Already knows that I mean to kill her.

Talon twitches as I pause, considering a Riftwalk behind her. A quick knick of her soul and flesh will give me everything I need to lay a blight and watch her die screaming.

But she’ll expect that and… she’s left her bow on the table?

Huh. That’s… odd.

So I just… walk across the room and stop just a few feet from Bulderii. Glare up into her blank shameless eyes.

I have no words. Not even sure if I could force them out anyway. My tongue is just… useless meat right now. My eyes and soul give her all the warning I mean to allow her as my storm of Naranggas curls and weaves around her little Reaver soul.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t even flinch.

My talon twitches. Jellyfish preen and coo and howl at me to strike. To blight her with a fraction of the pain her words caused me when she told Raska I am Fae.

Then I hear a soft sound, a purr of warning, and I know that my Dark Goddess stands in the doorway.

A deep hissing breath, and I’m turning to regard her. But… I very intentionally keep every single Naranggas around Bulderii. Ready to Reave the cunt’s soul the second I decide to end my blighted existence.

For some stupid reason Thendra considers her even more valuable than I am. If I kill her my Dark Goddess will either slaughter me… Or break me in ways I cannot imagine.

Thendra leans against the frame of the doorway. Face covered in such… amusement.

WHY!?! I let my soul scream.

Her eyes give me all the answers I need. All the… the Dreamer Blighted reasons she commanded Bulderii to tell Raska what I am!!!

I was starting to love them.

Talons dig furrows into my palms and I can’t meet her gaze. So I glare down as they drip clean blood onto the floor.

Eight years… eight blighted years I just… I was finally happy.

Finally perfect.

Pleasure and Purpose.

My jellyfish family and Dark Goddess were all I needed.

Then Raska and her lovers took me in, held me close, and considered me one of theirs… All because they’re like me!?! Maybe… maybe they could have–

“They are nothing like you.” My Dark Goddess growls, emphasizing that middle word with such a snarl that tears me from the musings of what might have been.

I jerk my head up and level a glare at her.

But her face is blank. Devoid of… everything. Then she murmurs so softly I almost miss her words. “What do you think you are?”

I pause, confused by the question. What do you mean?

“Hm…” She glances past me, considering some deep muse. “Maybe you really don’t remember.”

Remember what? I curl my tendrils around Bulderii, anger rising at this… this nonsense!

I’m just a broken Fae you shaped into a Reaver. Your TOOL.

That’s IT!

Jade eyes roll back to me, filled with such fury and purpose. “Is it?”

I hiss, Sick of… of this! Of… of just… just… not being… not…

“How did you arrive in those Cursed Woods, Lyra?”

What does this MATTER?!? My mother SENT me there. ABANDONED ME!!! WHY EVEN BRING TH–

“NOT THEN!” Her snarl rips through the room, stills my thoughts into a sudden cold fear. Almost makes me stumble. Causes my Naranggas to curl away from Bulderii and shield me from the most furious sound I’ve ever heard my Dark Goddess make.

A heartbeat, then there is only the echo of her fury fading. Like a crack of thunder, here and gone in a flash.

Then she asks… very very softly. “How did you reach those blighted woods after your human parents killed you?”

I… what? The question doesn’t make sense. No they… they didn’t kill me. They wanted to, but…

Thendra just… stares. Waiting.

I… I got away.

Jade eyes bore into me, and… and I can’t help but… but feel the certainty of her words roll through me as I… I try to think back and…

Cold and damp and shaking. Boots crunch, then the shadow shifts and… and then someone kneels next to my helpless broken body.

My Dad.

I whimper, trying to… beg him To… To stop hurting me and–

He glares, hunters knife in hand. Rests it against my neck while his hand grips my hair and jerks it back.

Just like he showed me. How... how to slaughter a wounded animal.

Then my throat splits, and all the warmth drains from the wound in a painful wrenching flood of...

I’m gagging, breathing fast and hard as talons grasp at my neck. I’ve stumbled at some point, knees and forehead on the floor. Soul tails whirling in furious madness. Searching for the thing that killed us.

But other than the two Reavers, no one else is here. Just a memory.

A… memory?

The memory of my father killing me!?!

I let out something between a hiss and a wail, a sobbing cry at everything and nothing. Curse be blighted I weave all my words into a horrid tune! One that I have not thought to fully twist into the wretched Dream since the day it took my watcher from me.

My Shrike of the End thrums from deep within my chest, given a new and horrible strength by all this warm Dreamfire all around–

Then something is catching my Naranggas. Wrapping their panicked writhing still and pinning their sharp edges so that… That Thendra, my Dark Goddess, can scoop me up and pull me close.

Jolting my song to a sudden halt as her soul crashes into mine. Smothers my Shrike and chokes it to an abrupt halt. Then she sits there and just… cradles me. Purrs a hard truth into my soul as she pins my Amwella close to hers.

I am the storm’s tool, and she will not let me go, nor allow me to break.

Just like on that first night she found me and brought me home, I’m drowned by her spiced thrumming warmth. Such soft purrs of… of possessive fury seem to lilt in harmony to the storm’s howls.

“You’re safe, My Lyra.” She murmurs so softly. “He can harm you no more.”

I dissolving into a puddle of nonsense then. Racked with such... such pain at the reclaimed memory of another person who once said they loved me coming to hate me. So... so much that they would try to kill me. That they DID kill me...

Press face and flesh and soul as hard as I can into the only woman that will keep me, regardless of how horrid I am.

A song bubbles up, nothing of shredding or death. Just... a sudden ache to bleed my misery and gratefulness to her into a melody.

“M– M- I–” But even the question fails to fubble out from my lips. Between gasping sobs the words just... break. Tongue refuses to form them.

Thendra just… pulls me closer as I fail to stammer out the question. Purrs such an odd sound as my sadness turns to a bitter rage.

Why even have this useless blighted strip of flesh if it’s just… just… NEVER GOING TO WORK!?!?!

So I stick out the horrid thing as far it’ll go, and chomp down on it as hard as I can.

PAIN!!!

Perfect horrid gurgling bloody agony that I can’t help but love. Real and solid it… it grounds me.

Settles my soul into the Dream once again.

It takes a few bites, but soon I am spitting the useless flapping of flesh free from my mouth and basking in the familiar freedom that comes with the forced silence. The giggling wonderous pain of knowing that there is always one who will know my mind and soul better than anyone else ever will! Words are stupid and hard and just... they've NEVER really made anyone hate me less. Not having to even try just... it sounds so perfect!

The blood filling my mouth though? That’s not really enjoyable but… Thendra is already reading the question radiating from my rotting soul.

May I sing?

And with purring comfort she lets me bare my fury and pain and anger into a song to seal my maimed tongue from regrowing, all while holding me close and murmuring soft affections.