Two lamias entered: one man and one woman from what I could tell. The woman was lania’el and the man ke’lania, although his build was slimmer than I would have expected from someone who’d certainly not wanted for food. She had dark greenish-brown hair and scales to match, with a skin tone lighter I’d have expected given her scale color. In contrast, the man’s skin nearly matched his off-brown scales, though lines of ruddy orange snaked across his lower body.
The pair filed in and Onussa followed them meekly, closing the door silently. Her tail-tip twitched nervously, and that did my comfort no favors.
Both of the wealthy newcomers looked clean and smelled like flowers. Well-fitted clothes of nice materials adorned them, but the colors and styles were muted: earth tones, and a sort of utilitarian edge that wasn’t quite practical.
I’d never seen ussen wearing something quite like it, and kss’kaa tended to over-display their wealth like some birds did their colorful feathers.
These two people were dressed like… like servants. But not like servants I’d ever seen.
And both of them were staring squarely at me. The woman didn’t seem too put-off by whatever she saw, but something about her expression was familiar in a way I couldn’t place. The man, meanwhile, looked at me curiously, eyes wide and searching.
That was, until he saw Kyrae standing next to me, holding my hand. His dark brown eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, the woman broke the silence.
“Ssyri’zh!” she snapped, pointing at Issa. “Who is that, and why are they here? My mistress said this matter was to be treated with the utmost secrecy until her concerns could be absolved.”
What!?
“The young elf is Issa’s friend,” Onussa replied deferentially, but without honorifics. “They’ve survived together and are quite close.”
The woman clicked her tongue and hissed, “He can’t be here; you should know that.”
I was so shocked that it took until Onussa finished speaking for my mind to really understand what that woman said about Kyrae.
“No!” I shouted. “Kyrae and I stay together! And she’s a she!”
The shadows in the corners of the room twitched, but I kept my focus on the odd pair: away from whatever my powers wanted to focus on or do. Memories of a cold void stilled me against action—for now. I sure wasn’t held back by decorum.
The well-dressed woman glared at me, and I confidently met her gaze and her eyes softened. When our eyes met, something familiar caused my hearts to jump in fear, and I quickly looked away. What was that? Why was that look familiar— was the look similar to the orphanage matron, maybe?
Before the mystery woman could snap at Kyrae again, the man cut in, speaking for the first time. Where the woman’s voice was almost upland in its flowing accent, the man’s voice had a more abrupt accent. More like what I was used to growing up in Ess’Siijiil.
“The elf can stay. A vagrant child shouldn’t be of any consequence, and it’s clear the two are… close.” The man said the last word with enough distaste to make me pull back my lips, fangs dropping.
When he caught my eye, he looked away and continued, “My point is that the elf’s presence will not compromise the reasons we’re here.”
The woman seemed displeased, but acquiesced. “Please come here a moment… Issa.”
I didn’t obey, despite a growing sense of familiarity—and dread. “No. I’m not a child—and you can come over here!”
“That’s—” she hissed in annoyance, but slithered closer anyway.
I couldn’t meet her gaze, so I looked over at Kyrae instead. My sister was pale, and her hand shook in mine. The woman lowered herself to my level, so we were staring right at each other. Her green-blue eyes looked over my face, then moved lower. Why is this familiar?
“Lift your shirt halfway,” she said tersely, though not unkindly.
I still didn’t like her.
If Kyrae wasn’t shaking like a leaf, I’d tell this jerk of a woman to screw off. Instead, I tried a different tactic. “Say please,” I said as firmly as I could.
The woman looked shocked, too much so to say anything. I relished the victory, still unable to shake that odd feeling of distant familiarity.
The man was the one who relented. “Please, Issa?” he said in a tone that I’d heard more than enough times from various people to know he was just going through the motions.
Still, whatever power I could hold over these two high-class jerks was something I would take. When he spoke, I noticed Onussa smile lightly, hiding it before either of the others saw. Good.
I did as I was told, and lifted my shirt part-way with one hand, bunching it up under my sore spots. The woman’s eyes went wide upon seeing something, and she swore under her breath. Her arms moved toward me, but she met my eyes again and stopped, frowning.
I looked away from her and down, but I didn’t see anything unusual. Sure, I had a couple marks there, but Kyrae did too—even if they were in different places, and my sister was a different species. All that I’d exposed was the skin of my elven torso merging into the scales of my serpentine one.
The woman, however, clearly saw something. She frowned and then went pale. “I don’t believe it,” she said softly, glancing up from my abdomen to my face.
Her blue-green eyes studied me intently, but softy.
“Is she—” the man started to ask.
“…Yes,” the woman replied, with a long sigh.
I had enough of whatever the two of them were doing. “What’s going on?” I demanded. “Can’t you just leave me and my sister alone?”
“Se—Issa—that elf might be your friend,” the woman said carefully like she was talking to a child, “but she is not your sister.”
I hissed, and shadows uncoiled from corners toward the pair. Kyrae gripped me tighter and I saw fear in Onussa’s eyes.
“Yes she is!” I countered. “All we have is each other and we’ll never break that—so we’re sisters! It doesn’t matter if she’s an elf. I won’t let you separate us!”
When my shadows touched the woman, she hissed a shriek of surprise and lunged away. The man likewise darted to one side. I felt their scales, how polished and smooth they were. And how warm.
“Issa…” Kyrae said softly. “Please calm down.”
“They’re gonna separate us, Kyrae! They’re gonna take you away!”
“…but they’re powerful, Issa. And they could do a lot worse than just…”
“I don’t care!” I snapped, but the fear in Kyrae’s eyes made me waver.
“I know they haven’t been very nice, but do you really not care if you hurt them?” she asked, barely audible in the chaos of the room.
My power pressed on without me. The moment one of my shadows touched Onussa, though, I recoiled. I don’t want this.
I hissed again, low and dangerous. “Fine.”
I struggled with my powers; I knew what they wanted.
After a tense few moments, I managed to pull my shadows back, leaving the room in a state of shock. “Whatever you want with me—if you separate us, I won’t go. I’d kill myself before I’d go.” I knew my left eye was black right now; I could feel the chill leaving it, the shadows in the corners of the room darkening once again.
“I-if I may,” Onussa interjected before either of the pair could speak. “Issa and Kyrae both have suffered through horribly traumatic experiences—especially recently. For a long time, they really only did have each other. Surely a compromise can be reached, no?”
The woman glanced at Onussa, then back to me. Her eyes met mine, softening. “My apologies, Issa—and Kyrae. I am Lissti, though you may not remember.” She ignored Onussa’s request.
“Remember?” I hissed.
“You were very young,” the man said, glancing furtively at the shadows in the corner. “We’d assumed you’d suffered a horrible fate—”
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“Well I have!” I shouted. “Kyrae and I both have. It’s not fair! None of this is fair! No one tells us anything and the moment we get anything someone else takes it away! What’re you gonna take away this time!?”
The man winced as though he’d been slapped.
“Do you… really not remember?” Lissti asked softly. She leaned forward, but I recoiled away from her arms and she cast her eyes downward.
Lissti’s name seems familiar. I ignored the feeling. “No! And why would I? You’re just a mean lady who came in her, insulted my sister, and then tried to take us apart.”
Lissti looked as if I’d slapped her. I considered it a good look, especially when she lowered her head. “My apologies again, Sse—I didn’t consider that.”
“Ssyri’zh Onussa?” the man asked. “The ussyri did not mention… Issa’s demeanor, or that her curse was still so… active.”
Onussa’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “Surely you can’t mean to just leave her here? Without anyone? Without a future?”
“W-we cannot take a feral child,” he stammered. “She’s too far down the line anyway, it wouldn’t—”
“You know we can’t do that, Kyen,” Lissti said seriously, finally giving the mean mystery man a name. “We have a duty to perform—not to mention what would be best for Sse-Issa.”
“Do you want to be responsible for her debut? To answer how we could possibly let someone of Sse—her—status become like this? And what of her curse? Not only is that a massive failing, but if she loses control, that would just be—”
Someone of my status?
“Kyen—if that’s the case, we need to take responsibility. After all, it was really my fault that—"
“ENOUGH!” Kyrae shouted, loud enough to make me jerk upward on my lower body. Her voice pitched deeper, but she fought on, shaking nervously even as she dressed the pair down. “We’re not little kids anymore! Sure, we’re still young I guess, but it doesn’t matter when you have to rely on yourself. So tell us what the fuck is going on!”
Lissti scowled. “Y-you,” she started to snap at Kyrae, but then she looked at me and her words caught. “My apologies, but we are under strict orders at the moment. If everything goes well, you’ll know by day’s end.”
“Perhaps,” Kyen said, looking at me. “Lissti, I worry they’re both unsuitable.”
I curled my fists and my tail tip as hard as I could, trying to contain another outburst. Kyrae was red-faced and I could see her eyes were wet. Onussa shifted about on her lower body, wringing her hands.
“Kyen!” Lissti said, aghast. “That’s not our place to decide; we have a duty to perform.”
He shook his head. “I’m concerned that’s all. Her curse is severe, and I don’t think she’s as young as she looks. Our duty also ends if she’s too far gone.”
““Tell us—”” Kyrae and I shouted at the same time.
We shared a glance.
“—What’s going on?” I finished.
Lissti sighed heavily.
“Don’t,” Kyen said seriously. “I outrank you—”
“And I was her nanny!” Lissti snapped.
Suddenly, some of my earliest memories came to the fore. Half-remembered images and feelings I’d always thought were dreams, from a time when I was hardly more than a baby. Is Lissti telling the truth?
Kyen glared at Lissti; she turned away, giving me an honest, apologetic look.
The mean man continued, “I can’t tell you exactly who you are—or were—until we know how we will proceed. Suffice to say that you, Issa, are—or were, depending on decisions made by people who are neither Lissti nor myself—someone of relative import.”
“Who!?” I yelled.
Kyen shook his head. “I… I can’t tell you—not yet.”
“Do you have to obey Issa, then?” Kyrae asked carefully.
“Yes,” Lissti answered simply.
“Not yet,” Kyen answered at the same time, shooting his compatriot a glare.
“I am so, so sorry, Sseti,” she bowed deeply in my direction. Far, far deeper than I could have expected.
Sseti? The name seemed vaguely familiar, faint enough that I couldn’t be sure of its truth. If my name was Sseti at some point, it was well before I could talk—and it sure wasn’t my name now.
Kyen shot Lissti a death glare and hissed dangerously, then turned to Onussa. “We should go—we’ve seen more than enough. Keep them here until we inform you of our mistress’s decision.”
Onussa drew herself as high as her stature would allow. “Will they be provided for? Either by the ussyri or… you all?”
“Issa will be,” Lissti replied sadly. “I cannot guarantee Kyrae will be offered as much.”
“You must understand that I cannot keep Kyrae here then.” Onussa fought to keep her voice level. “And I can assure you Issa will not be forced to stay here in the face of such potential anguish.”
Kyen cut in front of Lissti when she hesitated. “Fine. I will do my best to see both of them provided for.”
Lissti’s eyes darted between me and Kyrae.
“Good,” Onussa nodded, then added with only a hint of sarcasm, “We thank you for your mistress’s benevolence.”
Lissti nodded with a tired, forced smile, and Kyren hurried both of them out the door.
The moment the door closed, Onussa collapsed back onto her lower body with a long, long exhalation. “I can’t feel my tail. I’m truly, truly sorry that went the way it did.”
“Who were they?” Kyrae’s voice was still harsh, but she softened it for the kind ssyri’zh.
Onussa shook her head sadly. “I want to tell you, but it’s best for all of us if I don’t. They’d find out.”
“Well that’s not ominous at all!” Kyrae half-shouted.
I stayed quiet, thinking. The way Lissti had gotten angry was so familiar. But… but I couldn’t really remember her. And she’d called me Sseti so naturally. Just how young was I—was all this true?
I didn’t really listen to the rest of Kyrae and Onussa’s argument, but they seemed to finish without getting too mad—or at least not more mad.
“Are you alright, Issa?” Onussa asked eventually.
“Oh?” I looked up. “I’m…” I felt the shadows around the room. They seemed just a bit more tangible. “I’m fine for now, I think. I’m not apologizing though.”
“I… understand,” Onussa relented. “Let me go get some more food—this time for both of you. I’ll also see about clothes and a bath for Kyrae.”
“And you just trust that we won’t leave?” I snapped, more acerbic in tone than I’d even intended. I don’t want anything to do with those two. I don’t need to know about Sseti.
Onussa recoiled.
“I told her we wouldn’t, Issa,” Kyrae said softly, almost apologetically.
I looked at my sister in shock. “Why? Why can’t we just leave? I’m fine now—I have it handled, really. We can get another job somewhere. Ess’Sylantziis is huge so they’d never find us and—”
“What happens if things get bad again?” Kyrae asked suddenly. “I don’t want your curse to take you, Issa. You were so cold…”
I snapped my mouth shut and worried my lower lip with a fang, my eyes tearing up. “Why though? What if I can’t stop them separating us?”
Kyrea looked down at her feet. “I…”
“You don’t know!” I kept going. “Well I’m not going to sit here and wait for whatever crap they drag us into. Let’s leave.” I grabbed Kyrae’s arm and pulled her toward the door.
Onussa looked on sadly. “Issa…”
“Shut it!” I snapped at the ssyri’zh.
Kyrae hung her head, mumbling and stumbling along after me like a broken doll. “I just don’t want you to die, sis… No matter what, I don’t want you to die.”
I wrenched the door open, feeling the fatigue in my arm and slithered out into an empty stone hallway lit by more sconces.
“If—” Onussa started behind me. “If you come back this evening—or any time—I’ll make sure you have a safe place to sleep.”
I stopped, catching Kyrae when she tripped over my tail. “What?”
“Oh, uhm, if you do come back, I’ll make sure the Temple takes care of you. No one should have to go through what you did,” Onussa repeated. She was still in the room, just watching us go.
“You’re letting us go?” I asked, incredulous. “Just like that? After all that talk of ‘making sure we stay here’ you’re just letting us go.”
Onussa nodded. “The Temple would never keep someone against their will, unless they were an immediate danger to themselves or others. No matter what anyone of any other class might say.”
I looked down at Kyrae; she was crying, but trying to hide it. When she looked up at me, she tore her gaze away. Suddenly the hand I had around her arm felt wrong. What am I doing?
“Kyrae, I—I’m sorry. I just can’t—”
“Do whatever, Issa,” Kyrae said with a cracking voice. “We’ll make it work together, okay?”
From inside the room, I heard Onussa slither over to us. “Why don’t we all go out and get some fresh air then? We’ll get some food, visit a bathhouse, and get both of you something comfortable to wear. Does that sound nice?”
“Y-yeah,” Kyrae mumbled. “I’d like that.”
I looked at the ssyri’zh in her clean green and white vestments. My throat was too tight for words and my eyes were too wet to see clearly. I shook my head.
“No?” Onussa asked sadly.
I couldn’t meet her eyes, but things got worse when I looked at Kyrae. My sister was crying—big sobs she tried to hide even as she curled up on the ground away from me. When did I let go? When did she pull away?
What have I done?
I’d made Kyrae cry.
I tried to think of why, but everything hurt and I was so tired.
Words spilled out haphazardly, I wanted to get both of them to understand: Kyrae and Onussa, my sister and the ssyri’zh who, according to my sister, had saved me. “I can’t—I don’t want us to be—I want to be free. I want us to… to…” I couldn’t talk anymore through the tears. My breath hitched and I started to sink down, but Onussa caught me.
For a while the ssyri’zh I barely knew held me as I cried, and I was too tired to pull away. Onussa’s arms were warm, but I wished they were my sister’s instead.
But that wouldn’t happen: I’d made Kyrae cry.
I’d rejected my sister. Why?
Realization was a slow thing. Like stitching back together cloth so frayed there were no whole threads to work with.
Kyrae wants to help me—and maybe Onussa does too. And maybe they’re not wrong. I haven’t been very aware lately, have I? I didn’t know fully what the Kyrae and Onussa had done when I was unconscious; all I knew was that Kyrae stood up to those people for me—and Onussa did too.
Even after they’d told me not to act out and I had, Kyrae stood with me—Onussa too.
And then I wanted to just walk away.
Would the people I’d offended really let me—us—do that?
They served someone very powerful. Someone I didn’t know and had probably just blown any chance of a good first impression with. At the same time, I wasn’t going to put on an act and I wasn’t about to trust just anyone.
I won’t apologize for what I said and did to those two jerks.
But right here and now, I’d messed up. Badly.
“I…” That first syllable came out hoarse and itchy. “I’m sorry. I messed up.”
Onussa looked at me cautiously. Kyrae reached toward me but stopped hesitantly, and I felt something threatening to break inside me. For a moment, the shadows felt comparatively warmer. No. I can’t. Not again.
“I did what you told me not to, Kyrae, and I pissed some powerful people off who’ll probably try to screw us over even if I go along with them. But especially if I try to run away. I don’t care who I was to them, I’m Issa to us now and I don’t wanna give that up.” I looked at my sister and bowed my head, then my torso. “I’m sorry, Kyrae.”
“Issa…” Kyrae said my name softly.
Hesitantly at first, but gaining in confidence, she took my hand. Then my arm. Then she pulled me down and into a hug, knocking us both to the temple floor.
“You idiot,” she mumbled into my torso. “Apology accepted you giant, massive idiot.” Her voice was teasing like I remembered, but something in the tone was sadder—more hesitant.
Words alone won’t fix this.
“Mhmm,” I agreed, not wanting to do anything to break whatever fragile trust I’d regained.
I still want us to leave, but… would it be the right thing to do?
With some difficulty, I swallowed and locked eyes with my sister. “M-maybe we can go out and do that stuff. A-and we—I’ll—consider staying here for a bit. Just so long as O-onussa can make sure no one’s gonna take us apart.”
Onussa slithered closer and said softly above us, “I’ll do my best.”
Kyrae and I stayed as we were for a long moment. I tried to focus on happier things, like food or warmth, instead of worrying over the mess of a meeting that had just happened. One thing I couldn’t get off my mind was the name Lissti had said was mine—said with such familiarity.
Sseti.