CW:

Emarial POV! Wow. Threats to let a gerl and her shard die a horrid soul death. A kiss someone consents to. Threats of freeing shards trapped within! Closer and closer and closer to Arc 3's end!!! AHHHH!!!

“Oh. Great.” Inamatorii huffs and winces, both from the growing pain of Amwella starvation and… the Weaver’s unsoftened weight on her mind soul. “You’re being stupid again. Wonderful.”

Such a growl rumbles through Zigdara’s chest as she understands what I refuse to give. “You’re going to let her die.”

Or... finally let the river have me in the attempt.

I let out such a sigh and shake my head at the thought. “They spent her Amwella calling nightmares and Beasts and worse still, then corrected that mistake with everything she had left. The only soulflame they’ll get from me would be if either wishes to make her fast approaching death come a little quicker.”

“Again.” Ina and her shard spit while glaring at me, voice clear but… cracking. Dying. Fading. As all their cursed melding do at the end. “You just… We’ll never be good enough, will we? You don’t want us to heal. Any of us? This little spirit or the world or… but especially not our big spirit or her sister shards. Can’t… can’t stand the idea of it. Why?”

That sparks my fury to boil. Set rage to fill my eyes and throat and soul.

“You speak of healing?” I laugh bitterly. “Ina may be a girl deserving of that, but not the wretched Weaver’s shards. No. They are things broken beyond that. This world barely endures their Rot. But despite that… Ina’s settled the Zeridii. Gifted its favored Arudian males freedom. From here the world can at least die without our blighted kind about to spread the decay. Maybe even cultivate something better from our ashes.”

They go still at that. Seeming to sag just a little lower as half their spirit continue to die.

Doubtless realizing just how helpless they are to stop this.

“You are wounded, without Amwella, and about to crack under your Weaver’s weight.” I clarify any doubts, let my voice lower to a whisper. “There is one pathway to survival, and… know that without Amwella to protect you from my flame…”

I can kill you. Are the words I leave unspoken.

Their face twists at that. Goes so pale I think they might be about to pass away without another word.

“We… We won’t leave them.” They finally whisper, shifting that wicked bone leg to lift just a touch from the floor in preparation. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Ah. And there it is. The hunger such a creature feels when starving. All that’s left to them are threats and desperate actions when a feast is denied.

I shrug and fix them with a bemused glare, take another step back. Let my rage and this new memory fuel a few sparks to dance about me. “I only aided in protecting others. Everything else is your choice. I’m simply refusing to save you from your own mistakes.”

Zigdara growls, adjusting to only support her charge at the shoulder. Eyes blazing with fury and wordless accusations.

“Don’t make me burn you too, Zigdara.” I answer evenly and before the duenna can take a step forward.

She flinches, hard. Then her face becomes a roar of anger as she releases Ina to roll forward. Deliberately paced so that I can move or adjust or…

But a piece of my resolve cracks a bit. Enough so the big duenna can grab me by coat’s collar and jerk my face an inch from hers. A quite stupid and ineffective grip to threaten me with her pinning arts.

“You would break oaths to me again, Sun Spoken?” She spits, voice strained as moisture touches her eyes. “Oaths to the Temple? To her mother? You’d let her die? This girl who’s trusted you time and time and time again!?!”

A heart of pain at... at hurting this woman who walked with me along the paths and curled about my sleepless form for countless nights. Then I whisper with all the fury I can. "Yes."

“Just… Can we stop being stupid about this? We fucked up but… but are doing everything else we can to–.” Ina starts to stammer but then loses footing and falters. Has to balance themselves against the wall.

Zigdara releases me in a snap of motion and moves to her Sun Spoken’s side. Slipping an arm beneath to lift them to stand straighter.

I almost relent. Almost see just the girl who’s not even had her life for a year, the… the Sun Spoken we all wished was the truth of our order. A woman of the Paths wishing nothing more than to walk and bring life and healing to all she finds. Brimming with love.

But within her shadow is the Weaver. A cruel and mocking creature that regardless of her Sun Spoken’s wishes will always just… bring rot and ruin and blighted pain to our world the more She’s allowed to drift through it.

Always. Every time. Without fail.

“Please, Emarial.” They rasp as though every breath is a weight more than the entire ocean. “Don’t do this. We’re not threatening you, even if we had a drop of Amwella we… we’d never want to…”

But then they trail off as their dull violet gaze locks on something behind me. And…

The duenna nearly spits in defensive anger. Ina adjusts to place a restraining hand on Zigdara’s chest but her pale expression becomes a thing of silent surrender and… and pained acceptance?

All fight leaving her posture. As the light smell of another foe tickles my nose.

I glance back to find…

Vele?

The Matron of the House moves down this hallway with still sparking lightning Gemstone in her left hand and… and dragging something in the talons of her glimmering right talon’s grip?

A nightmare. Not dead but… dismembered. Mewling and broken.

Something she should not be able to do without Sun Spoken magic. Touch that creature without having her Amwella torn at. Even in the old days she relied on speed and that lightning stone to fell nightmares and the Sun Spoken that called them.

Walks right up to stand before me, somehow seems to look down her nose despite my looming frame. Drops the nightmare at my feet. The carpets do nothing to muffle the disgusting sound it makes. The whimpers and warbling growls.

“You missed one. Tend to it, Sun Spoken.” She snarls and moves to step past me.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I raise a hand to stop her. “You don’t need to–”

“Someone has to, and such a thing seems beyond your abilities.” She snaps, then lifts her flesh and blood hand up to grip me by a wounded limb, then shoves me bodily against the wall and from her path.

Her words surprise me more than the pain that spikes and flares.

“V– vele… They… Without a Wellspring they’re already de–”

But she ignores me, struts up to this Sun Spoken and her duenna.

“You’ll die without Amwella.” She murmurs gently, eyes locked on Ina’s. “I can give you most of mine.”

I freeze. Cold realization tumbling through my mind as I look to her core.

Blazing vibrant and double the size it should be. And… She did learn the trick of it all those years ago. How to gift Amwella to me as my Wellspring dwindled without the need for an entire messy tumbling of flesh.

“How? Y– you’re not…” Ina stammers, then trails off before the final obvious words.

Sun Spoken.

“We’ve not the time to debate my abilities. Yes or no?” The Matron presses.

Ina pales just a bit further, swallows, then nods.

“Vele… You can’t–” I start to protest while pushing off the wall.

But without even looking, Vele turns her lightning gemstone back to aim at me in silent warning. Fingers already danced over the now crackling Glyph and a whisper from the final motion that’ll unleash its strike.

And… And of all the people in this Waking World I know that she understands the possible outcomes to that threat.

I could weave my blaze to kill them all, but… not before she’d trigger that stone and end me. Leaving my wellspring and Ina’s shard to be picked up by the next sorry sort to stumble over our corpses.

And that’s something I cannot allow. Refuse to let my end be the final crack that sends this world to finish its tumble into cold silence when some random girl, or worse, takes up these flames.

So I can do nothing but stand still and let Veletross turn aside from the purpose I sought her out to help me tend to all those years ago.

Ina’s eyes widen as they see the threat and my furious acceptance, then slowly tilts their gaze back to Veletross. Rasps so quietly. “How?”

“A kiss, as I… suspect you well know. But nothing more.” The Matron Answers and… I don’t even hear the sound of a smirk to her reply.

“Fine, yes.” Ina huffs. “Just… Okay. Do it. Please. Before we…”

As they trail off Veletross reaches out and cups Ina’s chin in her glimmering red talon, then pulls them in for a far softer kiss than it seems to be.

But for those able to sense Amwella, it is anything but.

The Matron of Rell’s plentiful Wellspring sparks out and rends at the edges. Twisting and tugging and thrashing tendrils of flame all about before settling into a whirlwind of motion. Then the maelstrom kicks up and over and rushes through Veletross into Ina.

Sparking the empty core within Ina to blaze with renewed flame and life.

And even more deft than all those years ago. Barely a few sparks wasted in the transfer of soulflame. Something… something even Sun Spoken rarely achieve.

Immediately after Veletross breaks the kiss Ina is spitting a song. One of healing that quickly costs them almost half the blaze gifted.

“Why.” They ask as the song fades, their skin gaining back some vibrancy while posture straightens.

The Matron pulls her fingers from the Gemstone’s glyphs and lowers the threat, takes a deep breath as her now greatly diminished Amwella settles, then lets it out in a great huff of a sigh.

But instead of answering Ina, she slowly rounds on me. Fixes such a hard glare on her face as she steps closer, tone sharp as a well-cracked obsidian blade. “I’ll speak this warning to you only a single time, Sun Spoken Emarial, make sure you stow it carefully as you walk the Paths to avoid misplacing the memory.”

Returning her glare is easy, even if the foundations of any rage are starting to crack and wither under the rising shame. That… That this wretched manipulative heartless cunt of a Matron would be the one to offer soulflame without cost to Ina instead of me… her elder.

Even as I still cannot find it within me to say a different choice was what I should have chosen here.

“Go on then.” I growl and push off the wall to loom over her.

"Matron. There... is no need for further stupid threats. With Amwella we-"

Veletross ignores them as her voice drops to a quiet whisper. Eyes shift to a hue of pitched black with small glimmers of starlight dancing within. “Do not think the rest of us will crawl into a rotting raft before our absolute end just because you may long for the river.”

Ina huffs and steps forward. No longer needing her duenna’s support to stand tall. Says some words…

Things I don’t bother listening to.

Because in that moment my everything howls for me to set this stupid Matron right. To snarl how wrong she is. How… how she doesn’t know anything about me or my oaths or purpose or burdens!!!

But... she does. She was there. She saw the mangled corpses and heard at least three Sun Spoken howl their goals while they burned. Sat with the remaining women loyal to the purpose of the Sun Spoken as all agreed to the Path we must all walk! Offered her own threats to all we thought might Turn.

So how can she say this to me?

“Matron Veletross…” I finally speak into the quiet that’s settled. Refusing to look away from one of my oldest allies and lover’s glare. “Long before I met you, my order would have demanded I burn them for today. Even before the second Turn broke us. This was my compromise. My honoring yours and my past allies. My… trying to stop the madness that rotting Goddess spreads to the World!”

“By killing them?” She snaps back.

“By letting them face the consequences of–”

She laughs, bitter and cold and ruthless. “Your mind truly has withered if you’ve suddenly decided to claim that. Innocence through inaction? Really?”

“I’m not…” I snarl and break the stare, glare down at the broken and helpless nightmare still at my feet.

Hiss and spit a blaze to burn it from this Waking World using the fuel of this moment’s pain.

A long pause lays among us as the flame settles.

“Emarial.” Ina begins, voice soft and careful. “You saw us at our most vulnerable… and tried to end us.”

I finally glance over to find their expressions torn between pain and fury.

“Just like in the Archives or even before that.” They almost whisper. “You continue to act against any healing we’ve tried to find. For us, the other shards, or even the wider World.”

“It’s not… Ina you don’t know what–”

“Thank the Dreamer’s Blighted Tits you failed.” They continue past and over my words, voice sharp as they let themselves tilt into anger. “So… Here is what you’re going to do. Travel to the town we spoke of, and wait for us to either come to you or call for you to meet us elsewhere.”

“What?” Is all I can say.

“Once we do that, you can expect us to demand that story. Every wretched detail of what you and Veletross did to all those years ago.”

“That’s none of your–” I try to protest.

“And yes, we intend to demand the same of before we leave this stupid mountain. So don’t think you can soften your telling or skip over important bits.”

As I reel from that, Veletross steps back. Such a cruel smirk on her lips as she eyes my fellow Sun Spoken.

“I actually have at least a few journals on the affair, as well as the journals on other private projects inspired by the event’s conclusion.” The Matron offers. “They can be in your arms before the sun rises, High Duenna.”

“And if I refuse?” Is all I can ask, turning both gazes back to me.

Their eyes narrow as it seems an echo of their song twists to such a dark thing. Feels… More as though a shadow looms over as their voice seems to Divide and crack. Still twinned with the voice of two spirits but… more Inamatorii than Weaver shard in tone and words. As if the girl has chosen to speak alone with her shard simply at her back.

“When we first met, you said you weren’t a Sun Spoken anymore.” Ina asks, voice still thrumming with the weight of her rekindled Wellspring but… singular. “I’d nearly forgotten you said that, but now we’d like to know why.”

I hesitate, trying to… to remember that day in that little town near Lyttoral. The words spoken amidst the early days of my 6 months of endless wakefulness. And...

Sounds like the kind of thing I’d say.

“Not sure. Probably because I was hoping to not need to fulfill the roles and duties of one. Why does it matter?” I reply evenly.

They nod, “Okay. So here is our offer. Meet us in that town we agreed on. Tell us this story and answer any and all questions we have as best you can. And after or during, depending on the song, we’re going to take your shards from you. All of them.”

I go still. Feel such an ache tearing through me at… at this wretched offer that…

That so much of me howls for.

An end to my burden. No longer a Sun Spoken. Free to sleep and dream and walk and… and die.

Chase my dead love down the river if I have the courage for it.

“Ina… That… I can’t...” I growl at the hope, shoulders beginning to shake in rage and pain.

“And know this, Sun Spoken Emarial. If you are not there, then we will come looking for you.” They reply, tone a rising wave of power as the Weaver behind adds Her voice to Ina’s. “Maybe not right away. But eventually and sooner than you expect. To the ends of the fucking oceans if needed. Then we’ll pluck those shards you’ve been keeping free. By whatever means necessary, and ensure your nonsense never can threaten the healing this World, and all Her Dreams, need. Ever again.”

I fight back a shouting reply. Something that would only wound the girl more and not… not gain us all anything but more pain.

Instead only nod, then turn and walk away while crushing all the pain and fury and guilt down beneath my blaze to avoid calling forth any more nightmares or… or worse to haunt my Path.

Letting that hope of freedom carry my weary body forward.