Chapter 105: Their Beloveds’ Bound
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Hello friends and lovers!!!!

Welcome to Arc 3!

To Break a Blight Weaver


 

CW: Hallucinations, being called an invalid due to trouble talking... LYRA POV! Talk of PTSD things and possibly never healing... bloody blood brands.... and worry that children will experience your trauma!

 

Today was such a good day. Got to snuggle in before having such a nice breakfast with both Tretion and Awnya, helped my mother settle another nest of Wriggle Wasps, and… and even got through a few complete songs out! Only a little stuttering and… and even started learning a few new words! And all that before coming here to help my beloved weave Blight into useful things!

 

But… The howls start up again just after Tretion speaks the words, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut as I weave the Blight into the maybe parts of my Amwella. This time they… they feel so much more real than before. Seeming to tear and claw at my mind and soul like the old Nightmares did. Fraying the edges of the melody…

 

“Beloved?” Tretion calls out. “What is it?”

 

I grind my teeth and shake my head. Unable to… to even try and tell her while my everything focuses on the song.

 

Can’t… No. I need to do this. Weave more supplies for our home! Tretion’s counting on me!!!

 

“Let it go.” She offers as the manor’s bubbles gather close. “It’s okay our home can–”

 

Another shake of my head as Jellyfish gurgle and curiously nuzzle me. Seemingly… Well, at least this isn’t bothering them. My own stupid broken mind’s cruel nonsense and nearly escaping blight.

 

And then, from the corner of my eye and only really noticed by my old horrid instincts…

 

A shadow moves.

 

That… does make me sputter out and release the Blight I’ve gathered. Hissing and spitting and growling as I drop it. Kinda falling into a scrambling mess as the manor swoops in to clean up my mistake.

 

Caught between wanting to leap onto this threat and run from this wretched and horrid and biting and hissing and–

 

“Beloved!” Tretion moves to kneel at my side, the Blight already gone and gobbled up by our wonderful home.

 

“Sh– sh– sha– shad–” I blubber as I stare wide eyed at the thing.

 

Too many arms. Too many EYES!!! Countlessly writhing and twisting and…. And glaring and growing teeth and–

 

Tretion reaches out to touch my face. “Lyra. Come on. Look to me. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Take hold of my soul. ”

 

No! I… I can’t!

Won’t!!!

Never again will I reach for her when one of these Nightmares bubbles up!!!

Curling my seabed of a soul close I give her the barest shake of my head as such anger rises in me at… at what this thing reminds me of!!! Of… of an old Matron’s corpse and… and even The old shadows I… I killed!?!

 

I push free of Tretion’s arms and stand. Growling and hissing and rumbling a song of fury at… at this stupid ugly thing that thinks to crawl up from the muck of my mind and soul and make me mess this all up!!!

 

The manor needs food things and water things and… and I won’t let this old shadow stop me!

 

“Wh– Lyra what are you seeing?” Tretion asks. Soul betwixt worry and… and pride and my anger?

 

“O– old Sh– sh– shadow.” I murmur as I move to stand over the odd bubbling mass. Even more furious as the words keep falling apart.

 

Now even has weird hands and like… a chest and… huh… Is less of a shadow and more of a weirdly lithe girlthing?

 

Still glaring at me though. Every eyestalk tilting up. But… no Amwella smothering pressure.

 

I flare out my tendrils and growl a song of warning. Tempted to like… try and attack but… It’s just a… what did my Watcher call it? Trauma induced… um… no… that’s…. Um…

 

Doesn’t matter. This watcher lady before me isn’t real. No matter how much my stupid brain tells me she is.

 

“G– go a– AWAY!” I hiss.

 

The shadow flinches, turns to stare face eyes up at me.

 

“You might see or hear people who’ve hurt you, but… also others. Faces of those you had to kill and consume.” My Watcher had warned me. Tip-tapping on a small stack of books next to us she’d spent the past weeks going through.

 

“Why?” I managed after a few tries.

 

She sighed. “It’s just… how the mind tries to process what might be flaring up from your soul. Attempting to filter or process.”

 

“Wh– when stop?”

 

A look of pain on her face bubbled up such a muck of worry in my chest. “I… I’m not going to lie to you, beloved. They may never stop. In fact they could get worse. May fluctuate in intensity and seemingly at random for the rest of your life. I’m hoping the peace, healing and the soft Amwella you gather here will soothe it but… The final soul you consumed worries me.”

 

The Amwella of a Godthing.

 

But… I don’t know who this is!

 

“Lyra?” Tretion urges. “We… You should ignore it. Come sit with me and focus on calming.”

 

I poke at the weird lady in front of me with a tendril. But… nothing. No resistance. No Soul. Not real. Even if she seems to flinch and stumble a bit.

 

So with a sigh I turn back to–

 

[Wh– where are we?] The shadow asks in such an odd tone. Seems to come from both where she kneels and from behind me and inside me.

 

I pause, tilt my head at the strange calm of this.

 

“Lyra?”

 

“T– talk t–talking.” I murmur, turning back to see my watcher’s eyes narrowed in worry and confusion. “A– as asssking qu– qu– question.”

 

“What question?” Tretion asks at the same time the shadow huffs.

 

“Wh– wh– where a– are w– we.” I convey.

 

[Oh… Well isn’t THIS wonderful.]

 

Turn back to see the shadow in the shape of a watcher twist to sit cross legged. Head tendrils wiggling about in… well they aren’t as expressive as Tretion’s. But I think that’s annoyance?

 

[The absolute fool let an invalid kill her.] She rubs her temples with two of her four hands.

 

“In– in– inva– llll–” I try to repeat. Unsure of the word but… pretty sure she’s being rude.

 

[Yes. Dreadweave’s Bane. In- va- lid.] She sighs and glares. [Means I can tell how stupid you are from just how you talk.]

 

I narrow my eyes and glare right back. Take a rolling step toward the shadow as a growl bubbles up. She flinches but… only a little. Otherwise just rolls eyes up and down me, before looking past.

[Oh! And a half-brewn! Isn’t this a delightful mess] The shadow laughs. [Doubt you’ll last a handful of days before she kills you and someone worth my time gathers up the Flame.]

 

Tendrils writhe in anger as my Jellyfish hiss with me. Furious that some part of my own mind would think to insult my brilliant watcher and imply she wou–

 

… Wait.

 

What?

 

I jerk to stare at my Jellyfish, my… my family letting out sounds of warning like they haven’t done since… since that first time I woke up here and Awnya scared them and… and they seem to be staring right at this shadow!!!

 

“N– no.” Is all I can whisper, legs unconsciously backing us away.

 

The shadow’s eyes roll over me and my family. [Such an odd shape to your soul though… Would have never guessed that Reaver could groom something like that. Especially from a Fae she’s broken.]

 

I… I’m infecting them with… with my… my brokenness and… and…

 

“Tr– tretion.” I hiss, and only know my beloved’s attention snap to me due to my Amwella sense. “H– help.”

 

She’s moving without hesitation, to my side. “What do you need?”

 

No.

 

Tendrils snap out and gather up my clutch, my children. Give them one last big snug of a hug. Gurgle love and thanks and… and apologies.

 

Won’t let them get hurt.

 

And I’m turning to shove them into my brilliant Watcher’s soul.

 

She gasps, stumbles, and I have to catch her as their weight and little struggles are… they’re too much! Too heavy! Can’t… and now they’re upset and swimming back and… and…

 

“Pl– pl– please?” I ask my watcher and Jellyfish both, talon reaching out to gently rake across soft scales. “N– need th– them s– safe.”

 

Tretion’s gaze flits between them and me. “Lyra I… I don’t think I can hold them. And… and we need to handle this together.”

 

“Th– th– they c– can s– see sh– sh– sha–” I let out a little whimpering sound as I fight so hard to keep my clutch shoved close to her.

 

“They can see it? This shadow?”

 

I nod while trying to growl little demands for them to stay and be safe and… and… but they won’t LISTEN!!! Keep shoving into my tendrils and fighting to swim back into my Amwella!!!

 

But… I can make them stay.

 

“Tr– tr– trust?” I whisper to my watcher.

 

Tretion jolts to a stop, eyes locking on me as my talon settles on that old faded scar.

 

Have known these songs for that longer than almost any other.

 

“Don’t leave me.” My brilliant Watcher whispers, soul and tendrils writhing in such fear. “Please. Not again.”

 

I whisper so softly and in a single try. “Promise Promise.

 

A heart passes, then a second as she takes in a deep and calming breath. “You… You won’t run?”

 

Nodding I force out. “I st– stay. J– just… just want J– jell– Jellyfish s– sss– safe w– w– with you.”

 

Her hand wanders up to cup my wrist. Not… not to stop it but… but to support me as a tremble rolls through it. Brilliantly knowing what I’m asking. “Then of course. Your children are always welcome in my arms and soul.”

 

Bite my lip so hard it bleeds as I whisper such a scary question. “M– mm– mebe… O– ours?

 

Tretion’s eyes go wide, brimming with tears as her soul thrums with such joy and warmth and delight at that. So much that even our annoyed little clutch stops to consider that yes… maybe my watcher’s soul might be a good place to snuggle right now.

 

A pause, and then she’s pulling me into such a kiss, pressing my talon into the old scar so hard blood starts to leak.

 

And through it I’m humming a song as my talon rakes a weaving into her. A Lamentation like I’ve never sang. One born of love and hope and… and such thrumming desire to see those who care for me safe. A beacon to our children to lead them to their second mother.

 

My Beloved, Bound Forevermore.

 

Tretion lets out such a gorgeous sound. A little laugh of delight as the song fades and the Jellyfish turn to regard and snuggle her again. Still a little annoyed that I’m not letting them come huggle with me but… happy at how this familiar soul shimmers and echoes with my love.

 

“Thank you. So much.” Our Watcher whispers, wrapping me in her arms and pulling me close to snuggle with them all. Tendrils of flesh and soul encasing us. “I… I never… never thought to… to even consider ever even trying to weave a child. Not after all my own familys’ mistakes.”

 

I murmur and squeeze her back. “Th– thank y– you.”

 

But… There are still too many and… and Tretion’s soul is getting a bit smothered. Nothing dangerous. Never that. Moving and like… doing stuff will be hard and distracting though…

 

So…

 

“Awnya?” I pull back and whisper.

 

A pause and… and my brilliant Watcher nods. “I’ll ask the manor to call her here.”

 

So we sit and wait while the shadow just… stares. Eyes rolling over our little huggle with such a strange expression and little odd swaying of her tendrils. One I’m not sure I like more than what she wore before.

 

And soon our Fae girl arrives, and the shadow’s many eyes go wide, but… otherwise she stays silent.

 

“Hey.” Awnya murmurs, kneeling close. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Lyra’s… Experiencing something. Could be trauma or… or worse. But she asked me to help keep our young safe while she comes to grips with it.”

 

Our young.

 

Awnya notices the new word and silly mupple of Jellyfish crowding Tretion’s soul and… and the little thrum that pulses through her and them. Eyes go wide.

 

“H– help t– too?” I reach out and taking up her hand.

 

Such a… a sudden and wonderful smile consumes her. “Y– yeah. Dreamer’s Tits. Of course! I… I didn’t even… like… what do you need from me?”

 

Tretion touches her still blazing scar, smiles so softly. “Just this, and a kiss if you're as bold as I was.”

 

Awnya nods and settles to sitting cross legged before me. “Where does it need to go?”

 

I sway to and fro, shaking my head and working so hard to remain stable as I watch her Amwella thrum and radiate with desire and joy and… and love. “N– no m– mm– matter.”

 

She nods, then tip-taps the spot on her own neck, opposite to Tretion’s. “Then let's make a matching set.

 

I swallow and nod.

 

Deep br–

 

And of course our wonderful Fae sweeps me into a kiss. Hands reaching up to run through my hair as I etch the matching Lamentation. Only twisting and changing the melody a little to…

 

Our Beloved, Bound Forevermore

 

We’re both dizzy with each other as the melody settles. Only aware of the rush of little Jellyfish as they coo and gurgle happily at the new song that rings out from one of their favorite snuggler’s Amwella. Splitting them almost perfectly and evenly between my wonderful lovers.

 

They all still seem to… to want to come back to snuggle into my soul but… a good nudge and little request and they flutter over to nuzzle with one of their two new mothers.

 

“I… Dreamer’s Tits.” Our Fae huffs. Still a bit unsteady.

 

“Th– thank you.” I murmur to my Beloveds Bound as I turn to look at the shadow again.

 

She’s… odd.

 

Realer now than before.

 

Tall, like our Tretion, and with a head full of tendrils that end with the eyes of a Watcher. But… she has four arms. Each seems to bear seven fingers too.

 

“Can you describe what you see, beloved?” Tretion asks.

 

“W– watcher.” I murmur as I scoot to get a clear view of the shadow. “F– fo– four arms. Br– brown eyes. D– dark gr– green skin. And… R– rude.”

 

The shadow grins and chuckles at that, but… still only observes. Doesn’t speak.

 

“Alright.” Awnya glances over but… eyes don’t seem to notice the shadow. “So… What do we do? If this is um… Well honestly this seems pretty calm for a trauma response. She’s not screaming or… or other things?”

 

I shake my head.

 

“That sounds like a really unique look to have… Do you recognize her?”

 

Another shake.

 

“It does seem unlike anything else she’s dealt with.” Tretion murmurs, “And our children could see it. Hissed and grew upset when Lyra did.”

 

Awnya nods, soul murples with a little worry but… such snuggles from my children settle it to careful considerations. “That’s why you wove the Lamentations.”

 

I nod. “K– keep s– ss– safe. P– please.”

 

“Always.” Our Fae agrees. “And… Honestly? Good thinking. It’s best you don’t have to worry over them while we figure this out.”

 

And then with Jellyfish safely nuzzled in their new mothers’ Amwella, I turn to face one of my Nightmares.

 

 

 

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