CW:

violence. soul death. soul eating. threats and thoughts on past sexual assaults. Awnya POVs sprinkles and wiggled between the Lyra POVs!!!

I don’t shift to stand before the god of slaves and slavers in a hissing whirl of power. No, I appear before the temple's outer door, just like I did all those years ago with my watcher in tow, and mean to carve a path for my lovers’ freedom and safety.

Walking the Old Road again just… not for myself.

The nighttime activities go still and silent as I enter, blade I claimed my first time here whirling about my mass of Naranggas. But unlike before, no one thinks to challenge me. No one steps out to halt my walk up to the steps.

Furthonois is… They… they’ve kept changing since I last saw them.

Six eyes. All red and glaring. Four arms, seven clawed and taloned fingers on each hand. Spines and sharp things roll down their body now. They also thrum with… with power. Their soul lays about them like a cloak, rippling and writhing in barely contained fury.

Still so pretty.

I stop before them, sword clicks down to stab its point into the floor.

“Where is my Fae.” They growl. Voice is… is low and horrid and brimming with dark promises.

A thing that sings pain and pleasure and eternal torments to those that displease them. Mouth has split open at the jaw now, those rows of dripping teeth now accompanied with two more on the sides and four large fangs that stick out.

Deep breath.

I just… remove my scarf and hood, and glare up at the godthing. Letting my eyes convey the answer we both know.

You can’t have her.

They purr, body suddenly very still save the Amwella writhing just behind them. “You refuse to honor your promise, Desolate Maw?”

I hiss, both at the name and question.

“Then offer your own flesh and soul in payment for a Boon tarnished.”

I shake my head, begin a low hissing growl. The start of my Reaver’s Riftwalk.

“Wonderful.” They smirk.

And I pounce.

* * *

I try to… to force words through the gag, but have to settle for thrumming imperfect soul screams. How is this… how can she be your Lyra if she’s dead!?! She can’t kill Furthonois! You know that! Why send her off to die!?!

Thendra ignores me, just… stares at the front door that’s been left open. Jade eyes are lazy and contemplative.

Let me go! Let me help her!

A purring laugh, “You’d only distract her.”

No! I… I can help! I can… Can…

“It’s begun.”

Wh– What? No you… how can you know?

I wriggle and squirm, thrash and growl and send my soul into melted nonsense to avoid her tendrils bite and grasp. She lets me for a while, content to ignore my struggles that eventually turn into helpless sobs.

Please… You… you blighted cunt! I’ll give you anything you want. Just… just let me go free… let me help her!!!

Thendra’s eyes lazily roll back to me, a silent question. And… and I growl through the memory of the promise song I gifted to Tretion… Force myself past with horrid thoughts of what could be happening to Lyra right now. I’ll let you have me! My body, my soul, my anything! Just let me go to her. I’ll give you a promise in song if that’s what it takes!!!

I have to pause. My head ringing with despair at the promise I mean to break as the roaring need to protect the girl I just… kept failing. Who deserves to have the life and lover I’ve found.

But Thendra, she… she rolls her eyes!?! So amused and unimpressed with my offering!?!

I can’t help but… but balk at her flippant rejection. What do you WANT!?! TELL ME and I’ll–

“I want you to wait here, with me, until the sun has risen.”

I growl. Is a Fae’s everything so worthless to you? The loyalty of two of our kind not enough of a prize for your hunger!?!

She smirks and turns her eyes back to the door in answer. Jade eyes almost… almost dulled. Like her mind is so far away.

* * *

Flicker step, cut.

The Amwella of the god hisses, curls and twists toward–

I’m already gone, Naranggas and blade pulsing with violet energy that tears and Reaves at this blighted thing’s soul.

But… but there’s so much of them! It’s like attacking a lake or… or an ocean! Anything I slice away and cut is just… not enough!

So I Riftwalk behind Furthonois. Stab the sword at their heart, just… kill the flesh!

Their Amwella jerks down, intercepts the blow, begins to wretch the blade from my–

Riftwalk again, brace my body a dozen feet up a pillar to just… breath and consider my options as my sword twirls about my Naranggas.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Furthonois hasn’t moved the entire time! They’ve just… just swatted at my soul and body like I’m some annoying bug.

And now they're smirking at me. Taunting me… Saying in gaze what we both know.

I can’t kill them like this.

I hiss and growl. FINE!

Riftwalk directly above, drive sword straight down, prepare songs, hope they take the bait.

The godthing twists up and around, the first movement of their body during this entire fight. Grinning up at me like the mad god they are.

Three strikes move to intercept me.

The first, a jet of sickly screaming venom from their mouth to melt flesh.

Second, a snap crack of their own tail up to break my bones and body.

And third, a twisting of magic to form some kind of nonsense of green lightning to rend my soul.

Wailing Pain and Fear and Spite with a tinting of the Melody of Dream’s end, I grin as all three impact at once.

An explosion of magic and force shoots me back up toward the ceiling, the sheer weight of their attacks returned enough to slam me into the hard sandstone.

Overwhelmed by such Pain, wondrous and perfect and so much more than I could ever hope to feel I barely… barely get off a… a good Riftwalk before… Stumbling forward I land back on the floor of the temple, but I trip and fall. Eyes and nose and ears bloody and… and gushing. Bones and flesh screaming in more pain than even an Everflame’s fury laid bare.

A scream, and a howl of pain and laughter, and I twist around to see Furthonois on the move through blurry bloodstained eyes. Tail a little limp, soul torn through by their own blast, and face half melted away to reveal blackened bone beneath.

But they are grinning madly and they bore down on me.

In panic I spit a Riftwalk to–

Hands catch my legs, and I’m drug back down through my Rift. Jerking and pulling me beneath the mass of this horrid god as their own will smothers my song. Curse them now! Get blood and gaze and soulfire! Weave a hundred blights through their soul!!!

Talons slash up to gather blood, Naranggas strike like three dozen snakes, and eyes try to–

Two of the four arms snatch up and pin my talons into the sandstone palms down as the ocean of their soul drowns my petty swarm of tendrils. Then a monstrous jaw locks around my throat to keep me from looking down and meeting their gaze.

I try to Riftwalk away, but… but they simply press their large writhing for down to pin me. Use their own weight and will to hold me from slipping away.

Squirming and kicking and… and hissing and even trying to bite the maw that grazes teeth along my throat, but… but nothing… nothing works!

I… I can’t…

A growl and a low soft voice purrs softly into my neck. “Relaaaax, little Fae.”

I gurgle and… and still a bit. The voice of this godthing spoken so gently and close making my heart skip a beat.

“Goood girl…” They nibble at my jaw, teeth just shy of pricking and loosing that venom onto my flesh. “You fought well enough. Gave us the first real pain we’ve endured for centuries. For that, we’re going to give you your death tonight, and not after a century of suffering.”

Of course I renew my struggles. Try to… to pull even a single talon free!

But all I manage to do is dislocate a wrist, then hiss in pain and fury. Begin to weave a healing song to reknit it and my other wounds.

A low rumble of disparate laughter echoes from their throat. Most cruel but… but some more giggly. Others even seem sort of sad.

They're pressing their soul close then, and… and wrapping it all around mine. Like a hand digging into the sand for a prize, they attempted to just… yank my soul free.

It HURTS.

Like… like worse than anything I’ve ever felt! Worse than even the cold tendrils at Dream’s end or the worst bite of my curse!!!!

I scream and wail, spit litany’s of Spite and Pain and… and Fear… and then Home and lost Love and… and all the things this Dream just never let me have!

But… but nothing works! They seem to enjoy the little pains I’m hitting them with!

Furthonois grunts, and slumps back down with my soul after a while of this.

“We really have been feeding you well. You’ve grown plump and… ripe for the feast.” They growl, but… but not in anger.

In anticipation.

All their tongues weave about my jaw and neck and face, teasing and wriggling against my flesh. “Seems we get to pull you into one last dance, Little Fae.”

I go still and… and cold and… and eyes go wide as memoires flood me. Twital's cruel growl and laughter as she uses my body and taunts my weakness.

The extra pair of arms that were previously bracing their form up slide down, taking my hips in their grasp. “Honestly… Might take a few bites to pull your wonderful soul free.”

No!

NO!

NEVER AGAIN!!!

Thendra’s words roar in my mind as the red hot curse of the Old Road boils against my soul.

“Next time,” She purrs, face serious. “Bite her back.”

The Melody of The End roaring, Spite and Pain and Fear and Infest and Home and a dozen other blighted wordlessly howl out of me. Driven by the madness that only a freed slave can know as someone tries to ensnare them.

But… but it’s… it’s still not…

Furthonois giggles, all voices unified in delight at my attempts at shoving them off with such a wonderful cacophony of Rot and Ruin.

Jellyfish yip and growl with me. Infest pulses with hunger. And my family of Blightborn nightmares beg for release.

Face melting from my songs, Furthonois drags themselves up my body, wrapping my mouth in a horrid kiss as their body and soul press closer than ever before.

Not to drown my song, but to drink it.

A pop, and they start to tear a few Naranggas free. Toss the dead limbs away to rot. I hiss in pain. But… but I can’t curse them! Can’t…

The ocean of soulfire crashes down again, wraps horrid writhing tendrils as their flesh begins to twist and move against mine. Begins to pull my Amwella up. Trying to… to slurp up and eat it!!!

Then I remember the lone claw that drifts in my soul, glimmering against the pain and glow of the brand of this god.

The first I’d ever claimed.

So I press close to this blighted slaver god and channel all my fury into the tooth I stole from that wretched Reaver.

Weave my Shrike of the End into the tooth!!!

And I stab the soul of the Furthonois.

They jerk, confused at the sudden soul pain but… but it’s just a small thing. My song is an intoxicating delight to them, so they ignore it and keep shoving their tongues down my throat.

I start sawing away. Cutting and tearing and focusing all my mind and will into this lone tooth’s bite.

For while their soul is large… it still needs to remain connected to the body. And only a small bit seems to bind the ocean to this god while the rest floats freely in the air about it. Just like how my core is not my Naranggas, and I can lose each of them without dying.

By the time they realize this I’m about halfway through slicing through their core and already slurping up the excess.

The weeping soulflame from them is so intoxicating, a waterfall of pressure and light and warmth and terrible power. The most filling and perfect meal I’d ever–

A thick sea of horrid Blights and Rot bars my path from all that warmth and life.

Giving me no choice but to just… dive in. Go through!

But as all my memories fade, I know that if I can just keep swimming nothing can st–

They hiss something, snarl and… and try to jerk back as the first memory from before my death I’ve had since leaving the Burning Rifts is ripped away by Furthonois sudden twisting fury.

But In their flinch I’m able to tear arms free of theirs.

Talons flash up and tear into scaled flesh, teeth bite down on their jaw and tongues so I can glare into their scarlet eyes, and soulfire weeping already drowns my soul.

A perfect pathway for my beloved jellyfish to their feast.

So I twist my wail into a hissing curse and pour every single Blightborn member of my beloved family into Furthonois.

* * *

Thendra’s been so quiet for a while. Her expression blank. Eyes distant and…

I growl at her again. Wriggle and squirm against her horrid soul tail.

But… but she doesn’t react.

So carefully…. Oh so carefully. I mix a thrum of song into my growl. Focus all my will into forcing a wordless song. It’s… Dreamer’s Tits its so hard and costs me so much to do this. Without Fae words there is so much energy wasted.

But then, FINALLY!

The gag wiggles. Then loosens.

I spit it out, fight off a choking sob, and prepare to hum a song to–

A huge hand darts out and clamps down on my jaw and mouth. Jade eyes don’t shift, don’t change, just… continue to stare ahead. I try to twist away, but her grip tightens, the blade on her tendril tips and very nearly pricks my soul.

A growl of warning thrums from her, truly annoyed and without mercy.

I glare, but… but slump. Eventually closing my eyes to hold back more tears.

Hopelessness finally settling in.

I… I can’t escape.

Just like before… I’m too late to save her.

* * *

Furthonois howls in warbled tones of conflicting fury. Some… some feel horrid and spiteful. Others are weeping and pained.

None stop the horrid god from just… tearing into my flesh and soul. But… that won’t matter. The curses are set, their command simple and unavoidable.

Become Our Feast.

All that’s left is to hang on and rip and tear and drink in as much of their Amwella as I can! Slurp up as much of this godthing's soulfire as possible, wail healing songs and channel my everything else into restoring the horrid injuries this god inflicts as my Naranggas rip and tear into them

Venom melts my flesh, claws shatter and tear my body. Tendrils of crashing waves pull my soul apart.

But… Like some deep sea pod we tear away at the god of Theradas, their great slashing wounds worthless against the swarm that gathers to feed. My own healing growls combined with the feasting more than enough to outpace this blighted god’s own abilities.

I… I lose track of it all very quickly. Beyond pain as I enjoy this feast of Amwella with my Blightborn family.

And eventually… the god lies beneath me. Twitching and snickering and weeping as my Naranggas pin their soul.

Feeding euphoria still rolls through me as I growl my healing song, reweaving the damage they did to my body while skinning away the nasty soul drinking venom they’ve coated me with. Even… even managed to reclaim a few Naranggas back before they rotted.

Still at around two dozen wriggly tails.

“Wonderful.” They hiss, voice a small and almost singular thing. “Such a delight. Let’s hope they are kinder to you than they will be to me. I’d hate for you to choke on them, little Fae.”

My eyes drift open, fresh and healed from the venom that melted them. Just as one of their hands drift up, cupping my cheek as they whisper so softly. “Can’t wait to… to dance with you ag–”

But in a flash of sudden rage one of my Naranggas snatches up my discarded soul tearing blade and slams it down into the god’s heart and soul. Splitting and Reaving them from the Dream.

Flesh goes limp and still, eyes glaze over. Shift from bright scarlet to dull smoke as my tendrils consume their final glowing core of flame.

I just… stare down. Breathing hard and heavy as I wheeze out my healing song.

But… but honestly I can stop now. This feast of soulfire will finish off all the major things. And… and I’m so tired.

My Blightborn Jellyfish coo and yip, radiating plump delight at the meal we've shared.

I smile and reach down. Call the things back into the depths of my soul. Gurgle love and delight as they snuggle close.

Thank them so SO much for saving me.

Then I allow myself to slump down a bit in exhaustion. Begin to… to weave a Riftwalking song to return home and–

Jellyfish glow. Wriggling with… with something. Harmony and power and… and…

Then they crack, and their feast of soulflame begins to leak. At first a little trickle I ignore as just… overfeeding. This was such a huge meal and–

But then it's a steady flow that makes me start to panic. My clutch is a blaze of little flames that radiate uncontrollably! Was the Amwella bad or… or is it hurting them or–

An explosion from each, and a howling sea sweeps through my Amwella in a wave of pain and fury.