CW:

Threats of violence and death. someone being gripped so hard they bruise.

Despair turned to cold anger as I wait, solid and horrible and biting deep into me. Possessive and furious and ready to split into another peeling shrike if I only would reach for the melody.

But then a furnace of blazing Amwella approaches.

“Ina?” Delphian asks as they approach. Her voice all worry and concern.

I’d not told her what this was about. Just demanded quite rudely that she retrieve Emarial. “Tell the big cunt we need to talk.”

They’re only a few feet away now, and I keep my eyes down and off to the side to avoid meeting any gazes. “Thank you, Lady Delphian.”

A long pause. “Are you alright? Did… did you find something that–”

“No.” Is the only reply I give.

She sighs, “Alright. I’ll… I’ll be back at the alcove with the others when you’re finished.”

I wait until she’s gone to look up to meet the big Sun Spoken’s gaze. Her face is… tired and confused and very wary. “Ina?”

“When were you going to tell me?” I ask. Voice cold and just barely controlled.

“Tell you what?”

“That you were still deciding if I needed to…” I can’t speak the word, so I pivot to just... tell her what happened. “Veletross paid me a visit. She knows what I am, and… told me some things. About you. About what you did with her.”

“What?” Emarial’s dismissive words don't match her suddenly much more weary face. “Ina, you… You can’t trust half of half of what–”

“Is it true!?!” I snap. “Did you or did you not kill off the other Sun Spoken? Have you not been hunting our kind along the Paths? Checking in to see if we’ve given in to Her demands?”

Emarial goes stiff. “It’s… not that simple.”

It’s like… like coming across the smell of something rotten while walking the warm wonderful beaches along the Dune Wall. And… and wanting to turn back, but… you can’t. You have to see the horrid thing for yourself.

“Isn’t it?” I hiss, my anger twisting into a boil as I... as I remember just how scared the Weaver felt the last few times I'd found her in my Dreams. Scary sure, but... people are always at their most dangerous when they're in pain. “Our patron is hurting, and you’ll kill anyone who wants to help Her?”

“She’s not mine,” The big lady's gone hard now. Face like stone as she drowns all emotion from her expression. “And Yes. She nearly used our kind to plunge this land into misery and death.”

A pause, a few heartbeats, and I'm very nearly shouting. “Did you really not find any others? Along the Paths? Or did you just fucking kill them?”

Her face is so blank. Too unreadable. “No, I really didn’t find anyone but you.”

Is she lying to me?

“And what about me?” I whisper, drawing out the Dream Stone. “What happens when I have to stop using this? Before it… it starts to melt my fucking mind and leave me an empty husk?”

A long pause as she takes way to fucking long to say. “It depends. On how close you get to Her, and how well you resist.”

My heart misses a beat, and I realize that I wasn’t really angry at Emarial before now. That I’d been ready to accuse her, but… not for her to admit to any of this. I’d needed her to call Veletross a liar and… and for me to need to apologize again. How I was willing to bear this last horrid outburst if it meant just... moving on.

Trusting her.

“How close are you to killing me, Emarial?” I whisper.

She seems to sag for a second, runs a hand through her short golden blonde hair and looks away for the first time. Almost like… almost like I’ve cracked some emotional barrier she’d set up. “Look, you’re nowhere near as close as the others. They became infatuated with Her. Treated her like... like more that what they should have.”

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“You mean they fell in love with Her!?!” I laugh, cold and low and bitter before it turns into a pained chocking sob. “I... I did that. I... I STILL want that! Want Her to… to just… Love me more than She hates them! But… But then She…”

I can't say the words. Can't admit to the cunt any kind of justification for her horrid actions!

Emarial winces, “She hurt you. When you refused to share in Her hatred.”

I nod but can’t stop my dumb mouth from adding. “Worse.”

A long silence.

“What do you mean?” her voice is cold again, face turning to a hard stone.

I don’t answer, just… look away. Tears forming.

“Ina?” It's not a kind prompting. Very much sings of a demand.

“Fuck you." I wipe my eyes furiously and begin to turn to leave. "I… I think I’m done with you, Emarial. Done giving you more chances to–”

And before I realize she's moved, she’s looming over me then. Amwella burning hotter. I try to take a step back, but a hand takes my cane arm, holds me tight.

I glare up at her, “Let go.”

“What did She do?” She says, expression one of… oh. It’s in that moment that I see only one emotion cross her face, and it sends a shock of fear through me.

Cold focus and furious wroth. Like… like what I’d seen in the Murtaziq before she…

“Th– This again? Cornering me and–”

Her grip tightens, face goes a few shades colder. “You lied to me before. And if She can lay commands on you, ones that follow you into the Waking World. I need to know. What else has She carved into your mind?”

“It’s… Fuck.” I stammer as her grip tightens so hard I’m sure I’m going to have bruises. Real fear consuming all my thoughts. I even try to reach for Her song then. The Peeling Shrike. But… this close, Emarial’s Amwella burns my mind and drives me from the World Song.

“P– Please, Emarial. I’m not going to let it–”

“Tell me.” And I see the rest of the threat in her eyes.

Or you're not leaving here alive.

I feel my eyes go wide… and I get the distinct impression that she will know if I lie.

“Arudian Men are Parasites and Monsters.” I whisper after a few quicken breaths, heart a thundering storm in my chest.

She… I expect her to get angry. To be surprised or worried or… or maybe even sad for me. For that stone cold expression to break. But… She nods. Like… Like she knew what it would be before I spoke it.

“And you place yourself so close to the only fertile males in Arudia? With that… That horrid command on your soul and mind?”

“I want to help.” I whimper, her grip still a vice of pain. “They’re… they’re like…” I grit my teeth. “Like… m– me.”

The pain of the command would have sent me to the floor had it not been for Emarial’s ruthless grip. Instead I just kind of… sag. Breathing and hissing at the cold spikes Her punishment brings.

Through gasping breaths I add. “Want to help. Change the Obelisks. Give them the freedom I've found. A... a chance to live their own lives.”

“You can barely stand while defying Her.” Emarial sighs. “And… such a thing has long since been pruned from these archives. You’re not the first Sun Spoken to try and fuck with Arudian law without the Doyan's consent.”

I jerk up, still weary and in pain. “Th… Then why help us? Why go back to the restricted section to–”

She releases me then, and I barely keep my feet when I stumble back.

“To make sure none survived, of course.” She murmurs. “Ina. I’m going to give you this one chance. Leave. Don’t ever come back to this Academy.”

“Wh– What?” I sputter, still clutching the Dream Stone. “But I still need-”

“If such a thing existed, then… maybe. But even your Jevita doesn’t believe there is hope here. So, why risk the future of Arudia? If you slip up, and She gets another command on you. Is able to… to twist you.” She shakes her head. “I’m going to alert the Doyans and Matrons to the threat you pose. They will not be as kind as I have if you're still here in the morning.”

“B… But–”

“I’ll also be traveling back to Lyttoral before I leave, and will make sure the duenna and Sangoma there are intimately familiar with the risk you pose if they allow you to return." She pushes through my pitiful stammers, golden-amber eyes locking on mine. "Remain a woman of the Paths, Ina.”

“She… I can’t keep using this!” I nearly scream, pointing the horrid gemstone at her. “And Lyttoral Alchemy might be my only option after that!”

She shakes her head in such a pitting way, but... her expression doesn't drop a hint of it's cold demeanor. “The potions from there are made from Her power, Ina. Sun Spoken magic. Do you really think you're the first to try them?”

I drop my arm, almost falling at her words as one of the best options Jevita and I had considered just... casually shatters at my feet.

“I’ll let you leave first, get some distance.” She glances down, frowns at my leg, and her face does soften then. “Kque mentioned in passing that you need your healing magic to walk well, but… I expect your Wellspring to be small and barely a flicker next we meet. Burn off as much as you can in a single big burst.”

“What?” I nearly yelp. “But… But then I won’t be able to–”

“I know,” Her face goes hard again. “Your leg will never heal. But Her ability to adjust your mind… That’s never happened before. It’s not worth the risk.”

“No. Fuck you.” I spit. “I won’t let your fuck ups rob me of–”

“I’m not asking, Ina.” She whispers, very very quietly. Her tone kills the words in my mouth. “If I find you with such a Wellspring again when I return to these lands, I'll assume the worst.”

I just… stare at her. Frozen and… and so fucking scared. More scared than I’ve ever felt. No nightmare along the Paths can even compare to the terror that grips me as I stare into her eyes and feel her furnace of Amwella scorch my soul.

“Say that you understand.” She demands.

I hesitate.

She doesn’t move forward, but I can feel her Amwella flair to punctuate her demand. “Say. It.”

I jerk back, then whisper. “I… I understand.”

She nods, then turns and walks away.

Then I’m stumbling from the Library, and bumbling from the wretched academy without even going to speak with Delphian or Ophrit. Pulling my hood up as I feel the tears begin to overtake me. Vision a blur as I push through a sudden bit of snowfall, heart thundering and mind drowning in waking terrors of what could be at my back soon.