Hello friends and lovers!!!!

Welcome to Arc 3!

To Break a Blight Weaver

 

CW:

Spoiler

A little bit of self harm, stammering/trouble talking, um... yeah. that should be it! Lyra POV!

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I’m running the second I hear the gurgling from the manor. Darting across soft carpets as Jellyfish coo and yip in excitement at the rush of motion.

 

Breaking the promise I made to them. Not… It wasn’t really a promise. Just… they really really REALLY kinda pleaded to me and… and I mumbled ‘oke’ but…

 

But she’s home!

 

So I’m being a horrible lover and stupid monster and rushing to get to the gate as fast as possible. Doing my best to ignore the memories and reasons and… and worries they had.

 

 

“Please, Beloved.” Tretion had been the first to speak after they asked and I didn’t answer. “I… It won’t be for long. Just… Let me greet them at the Gate. Tell them a little about what’s happened and… and help them understand what to expect.”

 

“Th– thought th– th– th–eey… ff– fo–”

 

But the words seem to dissolve into nothing as I can’t understand what I even want to ask.

 

I thought they forgave me?

No, that's stupid. They… they shouldn’t!

 

Thought they regretted trying to unweave me?

 

But… I’m a worse monster now than ever before! How can… can I hope for them to… to…

 

“They miss you a lot, but… you’ve been through so much since then and… and we need to make sure their tits are calm.” Awnya had taken up my talon and kissed it a few times. “You’re healing and… and honestly I’m not going to make the same mistake again. Will totally make sure they mean to act better than before.”

 

I looked between them. Confused and kinda scared and… and hurting. Worried I’d made a mistake by asking for this. But… their souls sang nothing but gentle songs of plans and… and ferocious protective love for me.

 

So I mumbled, “Oke.”

 

 

The manor’s like… tried to stop me a few times. Nothing violent. Just… wobbled the wrong hallway into my path after a turn or removed a door I might have used to cut through a community. It honestly can’t do much because of how many people need these hallways. If not for all the people it might confuse and bother It could very easily trap and hold me.

 

Well… so long as I don’t really push it.

 

I think?

 

It let me go before when our wills clashed but… my Amwella’s heavier now, and I’ve not really sung anything big since before I woke up.

 

The little tricks it uses do delay me, probably by a good amount. Enough to easily warn Tretion and Awnya that I’m on my way. Maybe… One of them might even try and come and stop me. Remind me that I promised and tug me away until they think it’s safe.

 

And before I’m ready, because I’ve been focusing on my guilt and shame and moving through the Manor’s twisting instead of what’s ahead, I’m there.

 

Tretion is kinda blocking my view but… I can see them.

 

Awnya is saying something about… something. Talking about a tiger?

 

It’s not important. Not to me.

 

Because beside her is… is…

 

Mom?

 

She’s… she’s so much bigger now! Like… bigger than me by a head and a half! Thick with muscles and… and beside her is…

 

Usete.

 

I’m frozen. Suddenly wishing so much that I kept my promise. Even… I mean I could back up. Sneak away. Even weave a little hiding song before–

 

But then they spot me. Exhausted eyes flicker over from Awnya to Tretion, then snap back to me.

 

“Lyra! Hey! You’re not supposed to…” My Fae begins to say when she turns to notice me.

 

Need to get the words out.

 

And then my mom sidesteps and her eyes fall on me, and… and for a second there is… is nothing. She looks tired and doesn’t seem to recognize me. What with all the scars and the short hair and…

 

“Little girl?” She whispers, eyes going so wide with pain as they lock on mine.

 

Can’t get distracted. Need to… to… to say the words!!!

 

My voice tingling with just a pinch of Amwella to make sure this’ll reach them, I force out. “Y– yo– you.”

 

Fix my mistakes.

 

Tretion turns, tendrils stiff as they writhe in worry while also trying to lean toward me.

 

“Mm– mm– mmmm–”

 

Crimson Eyes brimming with worry as she knows exactly what I’m trying to do. Why I need to do it.

 

“Mm– may.”

 

That’s not even the hardest word, and I’m already coming apart. Can feel the tears falling and throat tightening and… and… and my Jellyfish are trying to help but… but even their comforts aren’t enough!!!

 

My mother takes a step forward, but my wonderful Fae whispers something that makes her stop. Something like ‘let her do this first, please’.

 

“I– ig– ignnn–”

 

Practiced for weeks and weeks! Can’t clamp up now! Every word has to come out in the right order! If I skip any of it… it won’t work and they’ll be trapped and… and still hurting and… and oh Dreamer’s Tits their soul looks better but I can still see the scars from here and… and…

 

“Beloved.” Tretion whispers so softly, and is now kneeling in front of me as I struggle to get everything to work!

 

Didn’t even see her move.

 

“Look to me.” She says while offering me a hand.

 

It takes a few seconds, but I do it. Follow the sound of her voice like a light in the cold damp forest. Clamp shaking talons around her cool fingers.

 

Crimson eyes and loving soul brim with nothing but patience and support. “One sound at a time. Just like you practiced. Then string them together when it feels right.”

 

I nod and take a deep breath.

 

“Ig– igno– ignore.” I manage.

 

Tretion nods, and I work so hard to keep my eyes off the scene behind her. The horrid way they must be looking at me. So upset and… and hurting and… and maybe… maybe even wanting me to be–

 

“A– a–” Word is caught, force it out! “A– all mm– my”

 

“Almost done.” She murmurs softly. “You’re doing so wonderful, beloved.”

 

A few more deep breaths, then...

 

“Co– co– comm...”

 

Tretion’s tendrils twitch in worry. Because I’m leaving out a word. Opening myself up to more pain. More betrayal. Exposing my heart to this wretched Fae who would take my songs and form and leave me sobbing and broken and–

 

“Comm– ands.”

 

You may ignore all my commands.

 

Instead of…

 

You may ignore all my PAST commands.

 

Not even the manor grumbles a sound in the silence that follows. All breath stilled so not a single soft spoken word of mine could be lost and ruin this.

 

“Lyra.” Usete murmurs softly.

 

Eyes flicker back to them, and… and their soul is the same! No damage! No biting of that old curse’s sting!!!

 

The tears blur everything as I stutter and sniffle. “S– s– sso–”

 

And… and they take a step toward me. Halting as such a violent terrified flinch jolts me to step back.

 

Tretion glances over a shoulder and shoots what I can feel from her soul to be a look of warning, then turns back to me. “Do you need to go?”

 

I take a deep breath, mind and soul all wriggling in fear and anxiety and… and such hope that… that maybe they can… can…

 

A shake of my head, and a whisper I’m sure that only she can barely make out. “Nn– nn– nnn– eed.”

 

She nods, not… not entirely agreeing with me but… “I can be your voice, if you’d like? Help communicate some things?”

 

Wiping furiously at the tears with one hand I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it. Murmuring a soft. “Tha– th– thank.”

 

“Always and Forever, my Beloved.”

 

Then she stands, and while clutching her hand between two talons I let her lead me to stop a few feet from them. Awnya steps over to pull me into a soft hug, before moving to my other side.

 

Deep Breath, and I look up to meet the gazes of my old family.

 

And… and I see what I couldn’t before. Not because I wasn’t close enough or anything just… just didn’t think to look.

 

Eye’s either wide or pursed with pain as they remain locked on me, tears falling that so perfectly match their Amwella’s weeping sorrows.

 

For me. The broken stupid monster of a girl they see.

 

But… There are some good things there. Pride from my mother as my wiggly soul tails dance and weave in anxious patterns, and… and such confused wonder from Usete.

 

Better than I deserve.

 

“L… Lyra?” My mother whispers as she weeps. “I… I’m so sorry.”

 

I bite my lower lip, hard. Taste blood as I drown the sob I feel preparing to overtake me.

 

“And I… There is so much I could have done differently. Better and I never should have told you to go. Or should have gone with you to make sure you were safe and… and not just…”

 

Giving myself to a monster.

 

“N– n– not…” I whisper. “Yo– yo– your f– fault.”

 

She shakes her head so fiercely then. “It is. As a mother I should have fought harder. Protected you. No matter what it cost me.”

 

That cracks it, and I’m sobbing SO hard. Trembling and… and fighting to not dissolve into a puddle that can’t keep my eyes on her.

 

“May… Can you forgive me?” She moves like she wants to step forward but… only halfway lifts a hand. “Is there still a place in your life that I can fill? Even… even after all my mistakes?”

 

She… she doesn’t hate me? Isn’t… is still… still…

 

It’s easy to slip free of my lovers' hands to dart into her faster than a quick breath. Wrapping arms and soul about this woman who saved me from the silent pain all those years ago. Taught me my first songs and… and gave me a home.

 

Her Amwella sings of pain but… then such a burst of love as she feels in every part of her my answer.

 

Please! Yes! Please please please please please!

 

“Thank you! I love you so much and… and am so glad you’ve come back.” She’s engulfing me now too. Bigger arms than I ever thought to feel from her holding me tighter than any embrace in the Dream.

 

And together we break. Sobbing and… and trying so hard to give each other words of love and longing. Things spilling forth as only a mother and her wayward daughter can share, finally together again.

 

I’m not sure how long I cling to her. Probably a few eternities. With talons and tendrils and little cooing Jellyfish all pressing so tight. But… Eventually I pull away. Both of us are covered in muppy tears and still clinging so tightly, even as I turn to face her child.

 

Usete stands off and away and… and is looking down. It takes them a second to notice that I’ve turned to look at them.

 

Their eyes are stained with tears too. Face twisted in pain.

 

“I– I’m s– ss– so– sorry.” I whisper.

 

“I…” They start, voice low and raspy. “Lyra, I… I’ve been a wretched sibling and… and… and you deserved better from me.”

 

Tendrils lean toward them, Jellyfish gurble curiously at this new warm soul that might offer them snuggles and–

 

“But this…” Their eyes flicker between my Naranggas, wary in ways that send such a thrum of horror through my soul. “You went back to her, didn’t you? After returning from the Blight?”

 

I wince and look down and away. Nod once.

 

Tretion steps up, hovering just shy of being between us. “She didn’t have anywhere else to go. Thought the Fae would only gift her an unweaving after what happened with Ganzorig.”

 

A long pause, and I look back up to see such a look of conflicted pain. “Awnya told us what they did. How they had Uldra lay that trap before secluding you in a Tilling Rift.”

 

My mother rumbles in fury. “Such a wretched thing to do! Especially to a guest and a Fae returning to help a wounded member of their family!”

 

Usete swallows, nods slowly. “Yes. But… That Fae. The one who was hunting us, she said some things. There at the start. Before the Reavers attacked her.”

 

A Fae was hunting them!?!? I jerk, glancing between them all in fury and fear that rolls through my tendrils. And… and Reavers in the Fae Wood!?! 

 

Was SHE there?

 

Awnya moves up to sit next to where my mother and I have kinda huddled. Reaches out to hold a talon and get me to look at her. “We’re fine. My last Rift was left in a Blighted land, and was smothered almost right after I closed it behind us. She just… The Fae was a weird one. Seems to have odd ideas.”

 

“R– re– Reavers?” I whisper.

 

“Yeah, she… the big cunt was there at the end.” She forces out. Soul all brimming with desire to not share this but… 

 

She trusts me.

 

“She fought off the Elder Fae so we could escape.” She continues. “Not sure why, but she said that she meant to stay away from the manor until it's Matron calls.”

 

Thendra rumbled the softest sound I’ve ever heard from her. Then simply asks. “Is this the sunrise?”

 

I just… stared ahead. Confused. “What?”

 

She released my neck to purr into my ear. “We never agreed to which sunrise you would return to me.”

 

Everything in me clinches so tight at that. She… she… she means to stay away? Just like before? Give me as long as I want!?!

 

“So Lyra has been drinking souls? ” Usete whispers, and when I look back their face is filled with such pain. “All before killing and consuming the soul of one of the three godlings?”

 

“Y– ye– yeah.” I whisper, torn from my memories back into this Fae’s questions. “I… Sh– she…”

 

“It’s not that simple.” Awnya growls, gripping my talon harder when the words won't bubble up right. “That cunt kept pushing her into it. The first was someone who was literally attacking her, and… and did worse.”

 

Twital.

 

Such a tremble runs through me. One that causes my mom to pull me so close. Even murmurs soft loving nothings as a few tears leak out of me again and Jellyfish jibber comfort.

 

“I…” Usete whispers as they somehow must guess at the shape of what that blighted reaver did to me. “Oh, Lyra.”

 

I look up to see my mother’s other child slumped to the floor. Expression one of such guilt and pain and shame.

 

“This is all my fault.” They whisper. “I’m so sorry. If… I… I didn’t… All those years ago if I had just listened. Or after I found you if I had stayed or… or sent Awnya back I…”

 

A cluster of tendrils reach out, hoping… hoping against all hope…

 

“I’ve broken promise after promise to you and… ” Eyes twist down to stare at the wrapped foot that still bears the curse’s scar. “You had every right to curse me. To leave me like that after-”

 

“Nn– no.” I force out through a whisper.

 

“Worse.” They hiss and dig nails into the thin wrappings. So hard red stains of Fae blood begin to color the cloth. “I should have been the one to get Ganzorig’s end. Not him. He… he wouldn’t have gone to the manor if I had just said NO to his stupid plan. Knew that he’d not risk conflict without overwhelming songcraft.”

 

“Uss– ss–e–”

 

“And in the Twilight Court if… if I had just listened and… and apologized to you, mother and I… we… We could have maybe talked you into staying!” They continue over my call. “It’s all my fault! I… I should have been the one to… to be lost to–”

 

“B– belo–” I very nearly shout to cut off their spiral, tendril reaching out to mush and poke their Amwella.

 

Usete freezes, eyes lock on the piece that nuzzles their soul. Watch with such a mix of terror and wonder and… and…

 

“B– bb– be– lov– ed.” I growl out the old words I’d cast aside. “S– ss– sibl– ll– ling.”

 

They jerk up as I finish the litany. Claiming them once again in Fae words as my family. “You… you can’t–”

 

“N– no!” I hiss. “Frr– for– forg– given.”

 

They shake their head furiously. “No! Not so quickly and–”

 

I wriggle free of my lover and my mother to crawl across the carpet to sit in front of them. Pulling slightly bloody hand free of their foot.

 

“Can.” I whisper softly while grumbling a little wordless healing melody to stop their bleeding.

 

“But…” They stammer. Eyes rolling over my burns and scars and… and finally locking to my eyes. Now bursting with tears. “You can’t trust me. Not after what I’ve done.”

 

“D– don’t tr– trust.” I snort and shake my head. “St– stupid, s– sometimes. B– but ss– sorry N– now. Th– th– that m– ma– matters.”

 

“That can’t be enough.”

 

I shrug. “H– has t– to b– be. W– want it t– to b– be. B– belov– ed Ss– sibling.”

 

They just… tremble a bit under the weight of those words and my ugly little healing song. Words spent. Staring as I gurgle and growl their wound mostly closed.

 

“I… Is there anything I can do?” They finally whisper, eyes rolling over my burns. “Something… Anything to… to ease your burdens and heal your wounds? ”

 

I huff at song’s end and curl legs up into my chest. Wibble back and forth. “B– b– being h– he– here helps.”

 

They huff and slump, repeat themselves. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“N– n– not a– all y– your fa– fault.” I grumble and look down. “B– big C– cunt.”

 

Calling her that feels rotten and horrid and… and TRUE. Of course. But… 

 

“She’s right.” Awnya sighs and moves up to sit next to me, happily nuzzling soul into mine as tendrils weave about hers. Amwella thrumming with such pride at my last words. “This is really important but That Reaver… She’s been ten steps ahead of us all this entire time. And her helping us all get back strips the warmth right out of me.”

 

I curl a bit tighter on myself and let out a soft growl. Caught betwixt longing and anger and confusion and… so much. All the things. Pretty much all bad.

 

“What does she want?” My mother moves up to sit at my side. Offering more hugs that I gladly accept.

 

“Our Lyra.” My watcher speaks up while moving to sit at my back. Hand and tendrils weaving little comforting patterns up and down my spine. “Groomed and cultivated to suffer and twist in response to the torments she leverages. That’s all we know for certain.”

 

“How did she get into the Fae Wood?” Usete asks. “Both today and all those years ago?”

 

“R– Riftwalk?” I murmur.

 

Usete shakes their head. “The Wards about the Fae Woods should stop her.”

 

“Do your Songwards reach into the Blight? Protect the cursed Wood from outside entry?” My brilliant watcher asks.

 

That makes Usete pause. “I thought they did. The songs aren’t sung by Fae but… but the Hearthfires. Else they’d just get blighted and fade.”

 

“Are there other routes?” She presses. “Secret passages or such?”

 

“No. That…” Usete’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “The Rorliras might have given them a way. But not without Fae song. And they were Riftwalking, not moving through old set tunnels.”

 

Thendra purred out a laugh, “She’s fed herself to me for weeks. I’ve watched and listened and learned to move with the Fae songs.”

 

“F– fed?” I whisper, and everyone pauses. Most in confusion but…

 

“That’s a good point, beloved. She’s siphoned away your soulfire for years.” Tretion nods, then turns to Usete. “Could she have gained things from that? Understanding or abilities? Soul having enough Fae in it to fool a Songward?”

 

Usete winces. “I honestly don’t know but… The Soul of a Fae is a wonder under normal circumstances. And Lyra’s…” Their eyes wander up to marvel at my seabed of a soul. “It was already so much more. Even before all this.”

 

A strange little tingle of something rolls down my spine at that.

 

“You said she claimed a godling’s soul?” My mother asks. “How did that happen?”

 

My watcher and Awnya look at me, and I nod.

 

Giving them my permission and thanks to share words It would take me till Dream’s End to get out alone.

 

 

 

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