"She has to have influenced him somehow," Lucet said, pacing in a circle. "Did any of you see anything? What was that in her soulspace?"
"Lucet, I—" I began to say.
"And the way she negated my magic," she continued. "Where'd she learn how to do that? I've never seen anything like it."
"I have," I muttered.
Lucet's head jerked towards me. "Where?" she asked.
"Odin and Aimes fought like that. I... I didn't understand it at the time, but... I caught glimpses."
Lucet rubbed her forehead. "So we're facing an enemy on the level of the Dealmaker or the Witch of Warp and Weft. Fucking wonderful."
"That's not necessarily true," Meloai quietly said. "You are basing your estimate of her off of a single spell that she countered."
"And... I don't think she has to be our enemy," I muttered.
Everyone turned to face me, Lucet incredulous, Meloai expressionless, Sansen bitter, Jiaola wearied.
"I just... it's creepy as fuck, what she's doing, but... she's not raising an army or mutilating souls. She's... not the same as the Peaks. And she can help us."
"You want to give up your memories?" Lucet erupted. "What happened to the man who claimed his pain for himself?"
"He claimed an entire battlefield's worth of broken souls as well," I snapped. "I—I don't want to forget everything. I need to know how to spot another Iola or Aimes or Odin. But all those senseless last moments I lived through... there's nothing to learn from. Nothing to keep. Is it wrong to want to let that go?"
"It is when you're trying to let a known mind manipulator be the one to do it for you. We can find our own way. I can fight this for you. Please, Cienne."
I bowed my head. "You have found your own way, Lucet. Nobody's ever going to force you into what you had with Iola again. But no matter how many frostbolts you shoot, a riftmaw can't cure cancer. Zhytln can."
"You only have her word for it," Lucet pleaded.
"That's more than we have on any other leads. I'm not going to make you come with me. But tomorrow... I'm going to talk to Zhytln."
Lucet looked like she wanted to stab my miserable expression right off my face. Sansen blinked twice, his one visible eye widening, and Jiaola shifted to squeeze his husband's hand.
Meloai took Lucet's shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Two sentences, nothing more.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
And Lucet... exhaled, the sorrow crystallized on her soul like armor flaking off in geometric chunks.
"...alright. Just... let me look in your soul, first. If it turns out that Zhytln's got her mind-control bullshit in you already, I'm dragging it out and feeding it to Meloai."
I spread out my arms, the shield of memory around my soul unfurling as I bared my emotions to Lucet.
It was easier than I thought. Practice made perfect, after all.
#
Lucet insisted that the five of us each inspect each others' souls, just in case. I thought it was overkill, but there wasn't any harm in the act. I wasn't quite surprised to see that Zhytln hadn't slipped anything into our minds; even if she had the most ridiculous soulspace I'd ever seen, we were still five experienced soulmages, and we'd never really thought she could slip something past every single one of us without our knowledge. If she had, well, we were fucked anyway.
On that cheery note, Lucet gave me a quick and startling hug before I went off to Zhytln's. I wouldn't be going alone—Lucet insisted on hovering near me and bringing Sansen as backup, while Jiaola and Meloai tried to find a non-insane way to heal ourselves—but nobody else wanted what Zhytln offered badly enough to meet with her. So I went to Zhytln alone.
She wasn't particularly hard to find. Her little bar was burned into my memory, thanks to Svette. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who'd had the idea to meet up with Zhytln, though. By the time I arrived, Lucet and Sansen shadowing me from around the corner, there were... maybe seven or eight children outside her door?
Zhytln swept her impassive gaze over the small crowd of children outside her bar. I snuck in while they milled around and tried to make sure she wouldn't recognize me in particular, but... in the end, there was no disguising myself when I knew she could simply look into my soul. I just had to blend in with the crowd and hope she didn't single me out.
"I," Zhytln announced, "am thoroughly disappointed with your parents."
The crowd of children exchanged confused glances, murmuring to each other.
"I have already consumed all the desirable portions of your soul. You have no more moments of high emotion, positive or negative, for me to absorb. Your dreaming minds have been optimized; I cannot recall the last time any of you were distracted by a nightmare. I have no further interest in interacting with you. I have made this abundantly clear to your guardians. And yet I find you here time and time again."
So she hadn't seen me yet. I saw her frown as she started a headcount, realized there was one more child than was ordinarily here, but before she could finish, one of the children piped up. Svette. I suppose she was a repeat customer.
She raised a shy hand; to my surprise, Zhytln actually nodded and called on her as if she were a teacher in front of a classroom. "I—er, I can't—I can't speak for everyone, but... we're here because you're... nice."
Zhytln stared at the girl. "Nice," she finally said.
She nodded. "You made me feel better when... when the... the thing happened. The bad thing."
Zhytln sighed. "I suppose this is not an unexpected side effect from my predilection towards rewriting your memories to treat me more fondly. I consume memories of great emotional import, Svette. If all of yours are moments of trauma, then our relationship is mutually beneficial. But I have taken all I wish to from your soul. Please inform your parents to send other children next time."
"My parents didn't send me here," Svette mumbled.
Zhytln just stared at her.
"I am busy," she finally said. "Unless any of you have anything more for me to take..."
And finally, Zhytln's eyes alighted on me. I was small for my age, and she hadn't been using her soulsight until now. But she had to have seen the roiling storm of glass and salt inside my soul.
"So you listened to my offer," Zhytln said. "You have so many memories whose absence would calm your soul."
Silently, I nodded. There was no need to confirm what she already knew.
She held out a hand. "Then come in, Cienne. We have a lot of work to do."