CW:

MORE Tretion POV to start! Violence and murber and venom and tooth growing. mention of fear of future assault.

A low rumble from the manor alerted me to the danger. A deeper growl than I’d ever heard it make. To both me and some great threat it feels at its outer gate.

Leaving Awnya and Nelops with Lyra again, I take up my staff and stride once again to join the Everflame in the entrance this side of the glyphic stone door.

“What is it?” Raska murmurs, glancing about in a sort of… anticipation. Only a touch of worry simply because something like my manor is a little beyond most to even consider battling.

“Something beyond the outer gateway.” I murmur, “If Awnya hadn’t seen the soulless corpse of Furthonois I’d think it was them with how our manor is reacting”

I feel Raska’s blaze flare. “What!?!”

“Lyra killed them.” I step up to the gateway, lay a hand on the glyphs, begin to channel will and Amwella to…

“H– How? Why!?!” The Duchess almost yelps.

“She owed it a boon, and they called it due. Demanded she capture and sacrifice Awnya to it.” I murmur while adjusting a few runes. First thing I do is remove Lyra from this glyph’s approvals. In her current state we can’t risk a panicked escape through this gate. I’d already had a stern word with my manor on letting her leave last time.

“I don’t care how sad her song was!!! Never let anyone leave without passing through this gate!”

It’d grumbled a bit… but relented. Even tried to apologize… I think. With Awnya’s help I’d grown to understand so much more about this wonderful being this past decade. Worked so hard to give it the trust and respect that no previous caretakers probably even considered. So… I owed it to treat this threat that stood just beyond this threshold very seriously. No matter how thick their shell was.

Its rumble of warning was… a bit scared. As startled to find this soul appearing at its outer gate and actually worried about the power it sensed. So… who had come to meet their new rival?

From the frankly terrifying mass of tendrils she had when I found her in the vault, it was clear what Thendra had Lyra doing.

Drinking souls.

I hoped I was wrong about my theories and thoughts about what transpired. That… that Lyra had simply slain Furthonois and escaped with terrible wounds and a diminished soul. But… None should be able to reach us here, and no leviathans of the sea we move through should care or know about Lyra. She’d swam with them before and survived.

So… This leaves two obvious options.

Ukalon or Dreadweave?

Those two are the only things I can think of that would cause this manor to growl in real worry and would care about the death of Furthonois. Which means at least one of the remaining two gods has come hunting the new member of their horrid trio. Whether to greet or consume… I cannot guess and would love to never find out. But…

“Raska.” I tilt my head to her. “I’m going to have a word through this glyph with whoever is out there. I think it best you remain quiet, else you may draw their ire in the future.”

“Yeah, okay.” She nods, “Thanks.”

Pausing… I take a few deep breaths as I begin to channel a small surge of Amwella into my staff.

I am the Matron of this manor, and my lovers and those I’ve sworn to protect and keep lay resting behind me. We reside within an ancient leviathan older than time itself, a thing that bathes happily in the blighted abyss between Rifts. My oldest records haven't the slightest clue who tamed or bargained with it to gain this wonderous home within.

No matter what fowl thing sits beyond my gate, I will meet it with the dignity and focus needed to expel it.

A twist of will, a curling of the glyphs workings, and I speak with a confidence fueled by a protective rage while I feel my manor’s bubbles twist up and about me.

“Name yourself.” I demand, knowing my manor’s glyph will send my words into an Amwella pulse anyone on the other side will understand.

Be they beast, mortal, or godthing.

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A pause, and for a moment I worry that the thing beyond truly isn’t one of the three. Possibly… possibly some twisted predator come from the rot and ruin at the scent of my wounded beloved.

“It’s good to hear you are well, Tretion, Matron of this manor.” Purrs a horrid voice I’d not heard for over ten years.

“Thendra?” I hiss, both in… in fear and hatred.

How had she even gotten here!?! Why had my manor reacted to her like it had? She is no godling or Fae or…. She’s just a Reaver! A blighted parasite who drinks the souls of others!

Raska growls and her blaze flairs in turn with my own fury.

“You will not have her back, you wretched cunt.” I hiss, proud of my taking to Awnya’s fury.

A low horrid chuckle precedes her answer, “I’ve come only to ensure you manage her recovery well.”

“You expect me to trust you?” I reply with as calm a hiss as I can. “My manor will tear you apart and cast you into the abyss if you try to enter.”

“I only need to offer a few words to ensure she survives this night.”

That… stalls out my rage, then replaces it with deeper and worse worries as I consider what words she means.

“Awnya can sing. We don’t need you or your blighted commands.”

A low sigh, “It is not Fae song she needs, Watcher. It’s the sting of a curse.”

I jerk back, almost pulling my hand away. “Her soul is already incredibly damaged from her battle. Such a reckless wound would end her!”

“It is not damaged. Only… changed.” Thendra growls, by not angrily. She seems… excited. “But it needs to finish hatching.”

Hatching. Chrysalis… That… But that would mean…

“What are you saying? What’s happening to her?” I can’t keep just a little of my roiling panic from my voice. “Speak plainly if you intend to convince me of anything.”

A long pause, and between my panic and fury I nearly worry she’s chosen to leave.

“Lyra has devoured the soul and mantle of a godling, and claimed its power.” She purrs gently. “And it is testing her. Eating at mind and soul. She needs to finish her song and break the old thing to her will.”

“And if she doesn’t succeed?” I whisper.

I can almost feel a horrid smile in her words. “Then you and yours will not enjoy the thing that wakes from her slumber.”

* * *

I almost yelp in fear at the green blood that falls from my mouth. But end up freezing in a strange wonder as it lands on the sash draped over one breast. Watch as the little droplet eats a hole through it the size of my hand through the thick cloth in barely a second. Spreads and melts the rest of it away before I can pull it off. Some of it touched my scales and doesn’t burn or harm me in the slightest. In fact... it’s quite cool.

B– But… Keshada aren't… I was always told our fangs are for show! Not… not…

I reach up to touch my regrowing tooth. Find it sharper than… than it should be. Pull fingers away to find a drop of the same green…

Venom? It’s… it’s more like an acid!?! I jerk up, years of training urging me to go find my mistress and get help to… to… But the Mistress isn’t here. Only Delvia is… but she’s taking me to…

I settle back down onto the bedroll I’ve been sharing with the woman. Glare down in fury at… at the body her hungers have forced me into. Breasts too big, hips too wide. Voice a light and annoying pitch that makes it hard for me to enjoy sex with the big woman.

Why now? Why was…

Amidst my musings an old memory sparks. One I probably shouldn’t even still have. Of some… procedures done in my early years. Long before my Amwella sparked. When I could only slither along the ground like a common desert snake.

A big mug of an odd smelling but tasty drink. Numb thoughts and giggly hearts as a stranger was brought in to inspect my mouth and teeth. Ended up removing two… ‘bad’ ones. I got scared, but they promised it was very normal for a young and careless Keshada girl who didn’t clean them well.

Then they’d grafted in two new ones. Showed me the pretty gleaming things before wielding them in. It didn’t hurt, it just felt funny… I was so tired afterwards though.

My thoughts wander around those pathways as my tongue dances over the new growth. Enjoying feeling the sharp tip and occasional cold venom that drips. It tastes wonderful, and as it dribbles down my throat I can’t help but… but shiver at the odd sensation it brings. Like… like drinking the finest wine or… or waking up after a very good night’s rest.

But soon this good thing is interrupted as Delvia returns from a sand bath. She didn’t even bother to redress, and after a quick sip from her wineskin she’s coming to join me on the horribly uncomfortable bedroll we share. Already wrapping arms around me, twisting to pull me down atop her. On instinct I just… fall into it. Body just… wiggling through the motions. Delvia is simple and easy to pleasure… barely even have to…

“How’re the teeth, Furth?”

That… I let out a hiss, but manage to keep it low and easily mistaken for a pleasurable thing. But as I lightly nibble on her throat I can’t help but… but grow SO ANGRY!!! More fury than I have ever known bubbling up from my heart into my throat!!!

She’s not asking because she cares about me. Even as… as I just fall upon her without hesitation! Offer her my everything! Pleasure her every single night on the blighted road she insists to drag me upon. Threatens to… to gag me if I so much as voice my displeasure or fears!

Letting Mistress toss away her beloved Keshada!!! Doesn’t even return me to her arms to make sure she’s certain this is the right path. Is…. is just too worried about her own safety and if the horrid god of Theradas will be upset if its new pillow slave has a few bruises before it gets to ravage and kill me!!!

Delvia doesn’t even get out a shout or scream as I bite down on her throat as hard as I can. Sinking my new venomously sharp tooth deep into rank flesh.

She bucks once, lets out a gurgle, then goes still.

A rush of wonderful warmth hits before I can realize what I have done.

Dreadweave’s gaze this… oh this is… is WONDERFUL!!! Body wriggles in… in more pleasure than I’ve been allowed to enjoy since… since my mistress last made love to me. By the time I am pulling back I’m shaking in… in everything! My heart is such a raw and twisting mess.

Terror at what the other guards will do when they find out I’ve killed her.

Horror at the fact I killed a master.

Fury at the Road she’d forced me to walk.

But by the Dreadweave’s schemes I’m mostly enraptured in warmth and pleasure. And as I glare down at the horrid woman's slowly melting face and corpse such a Desire for… and just… wishing I could kill her again! But… then an idea hits me as I lick my lips clean of any blood and venom, shudder at the flavor.

I can’t kill her again… but… Then I’m moving, hovering with more ease than I ever have.

To the next tent over.

The woman within sits up with a bit of worry from her bed, but… settles with a confused look as her eyes roll over my form.

“Delvia was…” I give her my best shy smile, one my mistress adored. “She… I wanted to… um… thank all of you for… for taking me from those wretched bandits and… and thought that maybe you’d enjoy a night with me?”

Her eyes widen in obvious surprise, but also really heavy desire. So I let my smile turn mischievous, and I’m twisting through the air to hover over her, leaning down… Pressing lips together as her fingers trail up my body. Gently caressing hips and breasts as I drag teeth down to her neck.

And within a few moments I’ve drank my second soul.

I know this because partway through I could suddenly watch in a sort of giddy horror as I slurped up the little thing. But… this euphoria is interrupted as I realize the woman got out a scream before dying. A spike of terror and I… I run again, but there isn’t anywhere to go before–

The tent flap is thrust aside, and the two last guards barge in. One half naked in sleeping clothes while the other is the one who was on watch. Daggers are drawn as they cast about. Eyes lock on the dead woman.

“What… what happened!?!” The unarmored one growls as the other approaches with care.

Neither notice me pressing hard against the tent's roof, hands clasped over my mouth to conceal my breathing and warring desires.

Run? Hide?

A shudder from the leftover warmth rolls through me, and my path is clear.

Kill and feed!!!

Finger over my tooth, gather a little venom… Drip. Drip. Drip a few drops onto the armored woman’s head and shoulders.

Then I drop down onto the other, sinking teeth into her neck.