CW:

depictions of slavery, hints at murder and soul feasting. BEG Sneks and another goddess. mupples. Awnya POV!!!

A sigh, deep and horrible and one that sends such… brumbles across flesh and soul as a Rift larger than most manors slithers open.

A wash of twisting confliction rolls through me. A… A desire to just… take off the ring. Step down to them. Offer my soul to these two blighted gods whose souls sing of stolen light and warmth that is a horrid siren call to all of my kind.

I squeeze my eyes shut, grind my teeth, try to… to… Picture Tretion, Nelops, the thousands of souls waiting for me back home!!!

Fighting through that blighted aura all these horrid things exude, I look back over the scene. The unnatural desire fading like muck beneath a steady downpour of rain beneath thoughts of my lovers.

The Rift shimmers in the courtyard below. About fifty feet tall and thirty wide, held open by the soul of a large wiggling mass of horrid Amwella. All of it attached to a twisting gorgeous snake… thing wriggling through to drift above the assembled masses. A perfect balance of masculine and feminine features with such a sultry smile.

Furthonois, godthing of Theradas.

And at the center of that crowd, a dark palanquin.

Rising from it, a regal and wondrous form stands at least twelve feet tall. All lithe feminine reptilian grace, completely made up of hovering disjointed black glass that reflects a midnight sky that contrasts the midday scorch above us.

Dreadweave, goddess of the Obsidian Tundra.

Turns out… that wasn’t a palanquin. Or… at least it’s not only that.

I almost hiss as the thing twists and writhes. Joins her body to become a pair of tails and wings and… other nonsense.

Scariest part? No Amwella. Not a drop. The rumors and lore were true. Dreadweave either has none, or it’s all trapped within the obsidian shards that comprise that body. Sealed from the Dream but still able to control a body of dangerous power… somehow.

They exchange lilting words and pleasantries. All caked and dripping in threats and insults and seductions. It was apparently always a mystery if these two will fuck or fight or just… get bored and move on when they meet.

But today is special. A celebration between the blighted god of slavery and their rival god of stars and dust and secret plots.

2733 souls gifted to the monsters of Theradas. Tribute to their god and enticement for them to cross the Rift they opened to live in her realm.

I… I want to save these people. Want to toss myself forward in a storm of furious song and soulfire to Reave at these two horrid things that laugh as they toss thousands upon thousands of souls into suffering and agony.

But… I can’t. A single soul could barely hope to scratch them. And… They still don’t know it’s a Fae that pricks at their workings.

And if they ever find out…

I tremble softly at the wretched hunt these two would adore hosting. Either… either a celebration and great bounty offered for the capture of my soul. Or… Or they might just decide to fly out after me themselves.

And at that point only the Fae Wood could hope to hide and protect my soul.

Tretion insists her manor is secure, and that Dreadweave herself tried to track down a former caretaker. But… two gods working in consort or competition? Could it truly hope to keep them both away?

A shout, a cry to the assembled on the other side of the rift, and the mass of enslaved are moving forward. That’s my signal to move, or… to watch and wait. Get ready to Riftwalk to Theradas to intercept her.

The only other survivor of the raids on our settlements...

Nufera.

After all these years. I spotted her. Impossibly... It was only for a moment. A brief glance into the upper window of the goddess’ horrid palace as I was getting supplies and more research things for Tretion. But… there she was.

Alive.

Took me three weeks to verify that it was indeed her, then convince Tretion and Nelops to consent to my workings. Another six months to work out how I could get her out from her captor’s palace.

For me… it’s a chance to redeem myself. To save a soul I failed. But... For them?

“How much does she know?”

We’d been careless with names back then. Probably even hinted or just outright said I was Fae around a few freed souls. So it would be a simple thing to interrogate her or any they’d reclaimed.

But… a hunt never came. Even as I restarted much more restrained workings a year after we’d sealed up our manor with every freed soul we could re-gather.

So… either she gave them nothing. Or they didn’t believe her descriptions of my work. Just… too much chance for a girl to lie or be stupid.

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But then… Why is she alive?

Why is she stumbling along with the rest of the assorted slaves like common chaff? Dressed and clothed in… in the garb of a pillow slave? A soul only fit for consumption and flesh work?

What path led her here? And… What horrors had she endured due to my failures?

I hiss as I bounce from rooftop to rooftop, using the leftover thrumming of my long faded song to energize my body and give me hours of excess energy that I will pay for later without a matching healing melody.

None spare a glance to the ugly thing I’ve dressed myself as. Rank clothes and a dirty wrapping of cloth to hide my face. No mask this time. It’ll thrum with magic that could draw an eye to me. Need to rely on the ring and other trinkets.

Just… playing the role of another soul wishing to pounce on one of these offered slaves. An open offer to the monsters of the city of spice and sand to gorge themselves upon.

Nufera is at the gate now. Stumbling through.

I turn, race back away from the scene, crack the anklet as I weave my mind to direct its workings to carry me through the giant Rift with the first slaves.

One charge left after this. Then… then a song will be my only escape if my feet and wits can’t spirit me to safety.

The twisting of the riftwalk causes such a horrid wash of vertigo. This anklet I use is such a crude working compared to my long perfected Riftwalking melody. So much so that I’d have stumbled if not for my body’s blazing fury that pulses through my veins.

The wretched spice smell jerks me into awareness, and then I’m moving again. Bounding and leaping toward the main street that leads all the way from the highest cliff above the city down to the temple of the blighted god.

An offer to these new slaves of the city. A call to walk the Old Road. Be consumed as a slave or find another to take your place.

The main street is still empty save the stumbling group, but… on each side lurks monsters and worse things. All waiting for their horrid god to pass over the group. Their shadow is a blessing to begin the feast and slaughter.

I growl when I see her, fight to not just… go now. Snatch her up in a wash of song and grace that will carry us both back home.

But that would be so stupid.

Fae or no the god themselves is known to take the breaking of this tradition personally. I’d be flayed living and displayed as a warning to all others. Song or no I'm fairly certain I could not escape the sudden fury of this godthing in its own city.

So I perch atop my roof, and wait. Ready to move the moment an opening presents itself.

A wonderfully horrid giggle, then the god of slaves and slavery is drifting back through the gaping Rift as black glass moves to take over its upkeep.

Huh… Well at least they didn’t get distracted with each other.

Then Furthonois is passing overhead, dipping down So close to the crowd of slaves. Eyes alight with hunger and anticipation. Predator's teeth glimmering perfect pearls. A hand passes down, caresses a few cheeks and ruffles some hair. Murmurs a few dark taunts that make those around shudder in… in both pleasure and fear.

Four blood-red eyes dance over the crowd, begin to pass over my hunched form as I–

Their eyes meet mine. And they wink at me.

The Dreamer Blighted god of slaves and SLAVERS WINKS AT ME!!!

I freeze, cold sweat drenching my spine. Then the thing is moving past.

Did… did they just… But... No this ring hides my Amwella! Makes my soul look a little nonsense thing while smothering any ambient little lingering of Fae song!

But then a roar, and the celebrations begin, and that cracks me from my spiral into terror.

Just a… a taunt for one of thousands gathered, Little Sparrow, nothing more. They can’t know who I am. If they did, they would have already eaten me.

Immediately a large form leaps into the crowd, and everything becomes a scattered mess of screaming flailing slaves and monsters. Twisting hauntings of restraint, rivals fighting over prizes, and outright slaughter.

FOCUS!

For a moment I’m terrified that she’s already been hurt or killed or… or worse.

But then I spot her. Slipping between two large monsters, running for an alleyway.

I back up, get a running start, and launch across the street. Arm feathers flare out from the folds in my sleeves to carry me on the winds. Then I’m landing and running along it’s rooftop, catching glimpses as I focus on tracking and following her.

And the monsters giving chase.

I’m about to just… pounce. Sweep the girl up, crack the anklet and pop out. But then shadows lurch out from nearby doorways and a fight ensues between monsters. Leaving Nufera clear to get distance.

So I follow, wait till I’m sure we’re clear, and drop into her path.

Immediately pull a wrapping free to expose half my face before she can do more than freeze in terror.

“Hey! It’s me. Gonna get you out.” I whisper. Step forward.

Her eyes flash with… Yeah. That’s fine.

She can be mad. And hurt and… and all those things. I failed her. Promised her a better life, then… then let the monsters find her and… and probably put her through such horrid agonies.

I hold out a hand. She hesitates, looks about.

“C’mon.” I take a step forward. “Don’t have time to really talk here.”

She looks about again. Like… like she’s…

Amwella suddenly feels… smothered. Weighted by a dozen familiar gazes.

Watcher’s gazes.

Or…

A growl… and my fingers have whipped out my blade. Amwella pouring into it as I turn to see them.

About… a dozen incredibly tall women slipping from the shadows and dark places around us. Skin dark and charcoal midnight with glowing eyes of various blighted hues.

Reavers.

I step up to Nufera, push her back into the wall at our side. Prepare the anklet just in case, and finish yanking down my wrappings.

“Woah Woah WOAH!!! There big girls! Your cunt of a boss and I have a truce.” I smirk with as much confidence as possible. “This one’s mine.”

That makes a couple of them pause, look to each other in confusion. But others just… it’s like they barely understand me.

“Hey hey hey!” I hiss to the ones that don’t stop, grip my blade in obvious warning. Aim the ring in a much less obvious threat. “Thendra will flay you living if you so much as–”

A Reaver to my left is moving, pouncing, I jerk to–

And then her head explodes in a shower of blood and flesh before an arrow as thick as my arm buries itself in the floor at my feet.

Every woman stops, eyes alight with fear. Then they’re running off, faster and quieter than is honestly comforting.

“Okay. That works too. I guess…”

Nufera is jerking free. Hissing and spitting and–

And glaring. First after the Reavers, then turning to fix that look on me.

“Hey hey, it’s alright. I’m not like… with them.” I assure her, still looking around the alleyways. Trying to… to place where the big cunt who fired that arrow might be. “Just… had an old truce that keeps them off my back. Honestly been almost ten years since I’ve even had to–”

She grinds her teeth, taking another step back as she glares at me.

I pause. Look really close at her expression and posture.

“Stupid CUNT!!! Why can’t you just… leave me alone!” She hisses. “Twice! Twice now you’ve…”

“Look, I… I get it.” I step closer. “And I’ll stay as out of your life as I can. Just… come–”

“No!” She screams. “First you steal me from my lover, then… then when they… when you come back they… they dump me among the lowest to… to… Because they know you’d be stupid and try to free me again!”

The cold fear returns. She did tell them. Then they… they laid this trap.

Stupid Awnya!!! I should have known they’d be patient and playful about this! Using her to… to hurt you and lure you into being eaten and–

Then a monster drops from the rooftops behind Nufera, huge bow in hand.

Bulderii.

I raise my blade, furious hiss and song on my lips.

But the Reaver only raises a hand in placation as she shoulders her bow. “Peace, Awnya of the Fae.”

“Kill her!” Nufera jerks around and hisses at the big woman. “Or… or take her to they'll send me back to–”

The words would have cut my heart in half, but then Bulderii presses a hand to the girl’s face and shoves her away to tumble bodily into the dust and dirt. Like… like she’s some useless animal.

Bulderii steps forward, then bows. “We were not informed of the name of our target. We will withdraw ourselves from this task and contract.”

I aim my blade at her. “Touch the girl again and our oath might just not save you, Reaver.”

Bulderii rises, regards me and Nufera for a moment, then just... sighs. “If I may offer some… advice?”

I want to tell her some things to do with said advice but… manage a polite nod as Nufera sort of… dips into angry sobs as she rises.

“Leave this city and avoid all Rifts that exist within the spheres of the three for at least a century. Let their interest in you fade from active hunger to more… subdued things. Lest next time you visit you find more dangerous predators at your back.”

“Sure.” I spit, suddenly wanting to vomit at the… the wretched blighted taste of spice that drowns this Rift. “I’ll take her and–”

“No!” Nufera rises. Scrambles behind Bulderii. “Stay away from me!”

I wince, take another step forward to… to what?

Snatch her up? Force her to live in the Manor? Ruin her life ag–

I shake my head free of the thoughts.

She’s literally been broken into wanting the abuse they bury her in. I just… just need to get her home and help her find people who can show her how much more she’s worth. That’s what Lyra needed, and Dreamer’s Tits I should have done it. Shouldn't have… like… given her the chance to mistake the broken desires they fill her with for real choices.

“I… I Look. You'll be safe this time. Truly. Not even the wretched gods could get where I mean to settle you.”

Bulderii turns to leave, ignoring the small woman as she looks back and forth between us.

“Nufera, W– Wait!” I call to her.

More monster cries and screams echo from that direction.

“I hope they catch you!” She hisses as she moves to follow Bulderii. “Hope they… they hurt you and… and break you and-”

She starts to run, but I whistle and spit a song of peace and sleeping desires upon her. Catching her as she gurgles and growls. Weakly fighting as I pull her into a close and intimate carry.

Lyra’s face is all I can see. The agony and… and shame as she endured her torments and… and the pain in her eyes in those final moments as I imagine her despair at finding our beloved watcher dead and gone from the Dream by her hand.

Tears soaking my cheeks, I sob apologies for all the pain I couldn’t save them both from while singing a Riftwalking song to take us home.