Hello friends and lovers!
MAPPY CHAPPY DAY!!!
WELCOME TO ARC 3 EVERYONE!!!
CW:
SpoilerScolding/burning pains. talk of belief of soul death and body puppeting/possession.
[collapse]
My lovers adore the first idea, understand and encourage the second, but… even more than Zigdara HATE the third.
“No.” Kque is the first to speak up while the rest just kinda balk at me. “Absolutely not. That… Ina she’s not in a healthy state of mind. The lack of sleep alongside those injuries have probably made her even more volatile. Possibly even unstable.”
Zigdara sips from her mug, expression screaming agreement when Kque’s eyes dance to her’s.
We’re all sitting in a side room with nice fluffy chairs and a couch. Yrelia pulled me into sitting on her lap almost the moment she stumbled here from our bedroom. Wearing just a big cute sweater and what I realize now are small cute underthings.
“And that’s why I need to go to her.” I huff. “Help her. And… get answers.”
“What answers?” Tasii asks.
And so… I share with them what happened in our Dream. Ask them to let me finish when they first start speaking up about the um… realization about the command being much harder to lift than She originally expected. But… that becomes such a secondary thought as I explain to them the past she’s shared and um… when I share with them what happened with that woman from the past.
My namesake. Her Inamatorii.
“That…” Kque spits. “ Fuck.”
“I second that.” Tasii huffs and runs fingers back through her hair.
“How do you think the big cunt can help?” Yrelia pulls from nuzzling my neck to ask in a much calmer voice than I expected.
I lean back into her and look up to the ceiling. “Because she has a different shard. It… It might have told her something different. And… Maybe… I feel inspired to try something.”
Jevita picks up on the word instantly, eyes widening. “Not… not just the thing we’ve been fiddling at? The healing? Something else?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
A long expectant pause.
“Is… Okay so… like… is this something you can explain with words or…?” Jevita scoots over from her spot on the floor to sit closer.
I shake my head. “Not really? Just… I feel like… I don’t know. I understand Her better now. But without agreeing. I can empathize while not like… Anyway that part doesn’t matter. I feel a little tittering in Her World Song. Strings or… or tides of movement I might be able to call. It’s… weird to explain.”
“Wait, Her World Song?” Jevita nearly jerks up, and I look down to see such a grin on her face.
“Mhm.” I giggle. “You were right, She doesn’t just fiddle with it. She Wove it. Called herself the Weaver of The World Song.”
“From what you’ve been able to share, that's both terrifying and kinda… amazing.” Yrelia murmurs, kissing the back of my neck.
I nod. “It’s like… like She spun this huge tapestry of magic over everything. A big blanket to keep everyone warm and… but also connected.”
“Okay but… that’s really beautiful but doesn’t really resolve this.” Tasii sighs. “This still sounds like a bad idea, Ina. But… I’m starting to understand how it might need to happen.”
Kque lets out a deep sigh. “Her Wellspring of Amwella.”
I nod.
“She… she should just leave!” Jevita growls. “Go back to… to whatever place She was hiding and… and leave you alone!”
“I agree.” Zigdara murmurs.
“But she probably won’t. Not anytime soon.” I smile sadly. “And every day is another day for her suffering to threaten to break loose into something really bad. I…”
Deep breath.
“When… When she attacked us, with Matron Veletross, they… hinted at something.” I whisper. “They expected me to… to me gone. Thought that the We– I mean Aceso, had killed me and was just… using my body to enact some last spiteful thing before my mind broke under the strain of Her.”
“Oh.” Kque murmurs after a second.
“And we were holding back. Avoiding hurting either of them until it became apparent we had no other choice.” My voice has gone even quieter. “But… We could’ve killed them both. Easily. Had so many chances that we just... didn't take. Worked so hard to not kill them.”
The room is so still. Everyone seems to be holding their breath. Zigdara’s eyes are wide with… things. Surprise, terror, a bit of… pain over… something.
“And you didn’t use your Amwella till it was time to destroy the Obelisks.” Yrelia murmurs.
I shake my head. “I can’t risk her falling apart. Slipping and… and… Giving her Weaver shard control. Aceso… She… I’ve seen the kind of things she knows could be done with my little Wellspring. If I was inspired to be horrid.”
Yrelia huffs. “Yeah. I hate that you have to clean up that cunt’s mess but… yeah. This needs to happen. And probably yesterday.”
Jevita sighs, looking around the room. “Should we go with her?”
“Be honest, Ina.” Tasii looks at me. “Can we help you with her? Do you think she’s less or more likely to co-operate with you if we’re there?”
I wince, but meet my second lover’s gaze. “We already broke both her arm and a hand. So her only choice would be to use some magic to try and kill me. Which… if she does that Aceso taught me the songs needed to deal with her. I’m not going in unprepared, and her Amwella’s nonsense won’t fuddle my magic now. It’ll fucking hurt, but… not enough to stop me from singing whatever I might need.”
“And I’ll be with her.” Zigdara pushes off the wall she’d been leaning against. “Emarial and I grew… close in our months of searching. Her actions against you were a betrayal to both myself and Lyttoral. And… I very nearly attacked her for it.”
I jerk to stare wide eyed at that. “What? When!?!”
“A week or so ago.” She’s nearly growling now. “I went to her, alone. While you were resting here.”
“Fuck.” I huff out. “You should have mentioned that. She could have… Zigdara that could have gone so badly–”
“She won’t betray me again.” She cracks her neck. “I made sure of that, and stand as a reminder to the weight of her broken promises.”
And so with that, after a wonderful breakfast provided by Tasii and Kque, I head out into the chilly winds with my duenna.
We don’t really say anything as we walk, both because there really isn’t much to talk about at this point, and we’re just too bundled up against the chilly winds. But now we stand before the humble little home on the edge of the city, a sort of… old home set aside for the visiting Sun Spoken.
Zigdara slams a big fist against the sturdy door three times, and I can’t help but wince at how obviously angry the thundering sound was. It doesn’t take long before the door clicks, then cracks open to reveal the woman we’ve come to speak with.
Emarial looks… fucking terrible.
Her only good hand is attached to a broken arm slung and bound to her chest, and her only good arm bears a shattered lump of wrapped nonsense. And… and the rest of her is fucking horrid as well. Eyes are sunken and laden with way bigger swollen bags beneath, and she just… seems so much lesser. Gaunt and deflated. Less… less of a light in her eyes.
But too bad none of that matters to the raging horrid flame of Amwella she bears. That still burns and makes me wince a bit.
“I…” She blinks a few times, looks between us. “Um… Come in, please.”
Then she awkwardly steps aside, and we march in. Zigdara both leading the way and keeping her body between me and the obviously unthreatening Sun Spoken.
Once we’re inside and I’m pulling my hood and scarf away Emarial speaks again.
“What brings you both here?” She carefully asks. Voice barely above a whisper now. Her throat seems raw and pained. “I… Could I offer you something to drink or anything?”
“No.” I reply curtly, but… there’s no bite to it. Simply impatience and… and a sudden influx of contradicting emotions.
Anger and pity, and the pain of betrayal with the still fluttering sparks of hope, and… and fear.
Sickening and roiling and… and almost spoiling my desire to help. Replacing it with an anxious need to run from this woman who tried to kill me. Or… or wanting to sing my fifth lover into my spirit to keep me safe.
“I have questions.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “Alright, let’s… let’s all sit down in the study.”
The ‘study’ isn’t much more than a little room with a few shelves of books and a table taking up the center space. Emarial takes a seat to the left of the head, and I can see that next to her spot is the familiar sight of the tome from Lyttoral and my own translation journal.
I take up the seat across from her, which seems to be her intention in avoiding the end seat. Zigdara silently refuses to sit and simply stands to my right.
“So…” She sort of… leans forward as best she can. Awkwardly unable to do more than rest her unbroken arm on the table. “What are your questions?”
“We’ll start with the easy ones, and go from there.” I sigh, then look her dead in the eyes. “But first, I’d like to free you of some pain.”
Her eyes widen, and Zigdara lets out an annoyed growl but… doesn’t speak her anger into the room.
She swallows, looks down. “But I don’t think that–”
“Pain makes people stupid, and I need you sharp.” I cut off what I’m guessing would be a blubbering of some kind of nonsense. “Just… shut up and let me get this done.”
And before she can object, I’m calling up my songs.
It… fucking… HURTS… Fuck fuck FUCK!
Her blazing core of Amwella is like a… a searing cauldron of pain that can’t help but splash in my face. Thank the Weaver I can sputter out the simple tunes I need in just a few seconds of observing and hearing the World Song.
When I’ve cut off the song Emarial has slumped a bit, and is now kind of breathing heavy.
“There.” I huff out. “That should…”
She looks back up to me with a grimace of pain, “Thank you for trying.”
“What do you mean thank you for trying?” I spit. “ That should have drowned you with relief!”
She shakes her head and tip taps her chest. “Just as Sun Spoken magic simply won’t harm the Weaver, I doubt anything but your most costly songs will be able to survive this fire's aura.”
“Why!?!” I hiss. “Why didn’t… Fuck. Okay. Just… Sit fucking still and let me–”
It’s Zigdara that speaks then, places a hand on my shoulder. “No.”
I turn to stare at her in confusion.
Emarial nods, “She’s right. Don’t waste your Wellspring on me.”
“Fuck.” I growl. “Fine. Great. I’ll save that for later then.”
She quirks an eyebrow but… doesn’t push, just adjusts and moves to sit as comfortably as possible. “Ask your questions.”
I huff. “What all has your shard told you about Herself. Her life and goals and… and why She’s the way She is? What exactly happened to break Her into so many shards?”
Emarial sighs and looks past me. “I don't know. She's told me almost nothing. It’s been a long time, and my dreams with Her were always… unpleasant. She would flitter between casual conversations and petty games. Didn’t see me as anything more than an amusement to toy with. And by the time we realized just how harmful some of the other shards were… well…”
“The Matron mentioned how some of our kind fell in love with Aceso.” I begin to prompt another question with that, but… a grimace from Emarial stops me.
“What?”
“You’ve named Her.” Emarial sighs, glances down at her broken hands.
“Oh.” I whisper as I understand the pained look in her eyes. “I’m not the first to do that, am I?”
She shakes her head. “No. It wasn’t common except with…” Then she looks back up to me, face twisted into a sort of helpless pleading.
I feel a prickle of that old fear from my last night in the library. Of Emarial’s threats, and… and the matron Veletross’ story.
“With the ones you killed.” I supply in a whisper.
She nods, and I sense Zigdara shuffle slightly. An obvious adjustment. A warning.
You won’t win this fight.
Emarial sighs. “It was a sign of attachment. Her true name is old and horrid to witness, and is often accompanied by a possession of the Sun Spoken’s flesh. So… many either provided Her a name or let Her choose a new one.”
“Veletross didn’t tell me what their plans were, or what drove you to hunt our kind.” I supply. “I’d like to know what those shards were planning.”
She shakes her head and glares past me. “Why would you want to know that?”
I narrow my eyes. “Because I’d like to make sure my fifth lover doesn’t stumble down their horrid path. I mean to protect Her, Emarial. She’s broken and hurting and honestly? Terrified.”
She snorts, “You speak as though She’s just some abused girl, and not an ancient blighted–”
“That’s because She is, you stupid cunt!” I don’t shout, but my tone cause the old Sun Spoken to jerk back. “Do you even fucking know why She’s in so much pain?”
She stops stop. Sort of… sputters out in a confused huff. “You can’t trust Her, Ina she’s just–”
“Lying to me?” I snap, cutting her off again. “Telling me She just wants to help while actually considering if She’ll need to kill me? Refusing to just… treat me as a fucking person instead of some wild animal that might need to die?”
Emarial winces. “I–”
“Because there is exactly one person in this room who has lied to me, repeatedly!” I’m snarling now. Voice a mess of fury and passion and… and is twisting into something more. “And it’s not Aceso!!!”
Zigdara huffs her agreement.
Emarial looks down, pitifully offers. “She’s hurt you. Drove you to using the Dream stone to protect yourself.”
I snort. “Right, and also tried to have me killed and– OH WAIT!!! That wasn’t her!” I do shout then. “That was you! You stupid vindictive big cunt! YOU and your ex lover tried to slaughter us AFTER you told me to run under threat of said violence.”
Emarial’s frozen up. Stilled entirely as she glares down at the notebook.
“Aceso could have done everything you feared and WORSE.” I growl as I find myself standing. “She could have mind fucked me so badly I’d have happily slaughtered every single m–”
I hiss at the sudden almost pain as the word and thought very nearly bubbles out. Emarial glances up, eyebrows almost raised in–
“Don’t you fucking say a word!” I snap, pointing a finger at her. “She’s already removed the first command, and has promised to get this one out of my head. It’s deeper and will take longer, but She’s willing to fix Her mistakes, Sun Spoken. Are you?”
She flinches, but… meets my gaze. “What do you want, Ina?”
“Tell me what they were planning.” I let my voice soften. “Tell me what you know about Her past. What the other Sun Spoken knew. Fucking… trust us to not repeat their mistakes.”
“And if I don’t?” She whispers.
“Really?” I keep my voice soft. “Emarial I’m not like you. I’m not threatening you. I’m doing the opposite in fact. I'm going to help you! No matter what you offer me today.”
She jerks. “How?”
And as my own fury seems to… to thrum in a sort of contrasting harmony to the horrid flame as Emarial’s core, I feel the inspiration bubbling up.
“By giving you the dreamless sleep you so desperately need. No matter how much Amwella it costs me.”
Emarial just… stares. Face a blank mask. Finally says. “No.”
“Not really an offer.” I shrug. “I’ll have Zigdara here pin you to a bed if needed while I work the song.”
“No.” She repeats, growling this time as she eyes Zigdara.
My duenna snorts. “Without you resorting to magic it would be easy enough.”
The older Sun Spoken looks back to me. Face a twist of worry and pain and anger and… Hope.
Just… Such a deep desire for the thing I mean to give her.
“You can’t be sure it’ll work.” Is all she can say.
“Yes I can. Aceso’s checked my melody and assures me it’ll keep your mind free of any shard’s power until you awaken. Lulls you and it into a slumber too quiet for Dreams to bubble up.”
“Then… then why didn’t you do this for yourself!?!” She spits. Real anger starting to rise up.
I sigh, “See? This is what I mean. If you were well rested I think you’d have answered that question for yourself.”
She jolts to a stop again, brows furrowed in thought. “She… You learned this song from Her?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m more inspired lately, this is mine. Guess again.”
A long pause.
With a sigh I just… say it. No reason to torment her over this. “It took time and care and… and understanding things a little better, sure. Stress is the bane to good artwork, but… It’s because I need the person to be in the first steps of sleep when I start this. It’s kinda of like that Dream Stone I showed you.”
“I…” She winces, shakes her head. “I have to say no. It’s too much of a risk.”
“Why?” I press. “Because I could take advantage of you while you sleep? Try to do what you did to the other Sun Spoken and just… kill you and drink up your Amwella?”
Emarial's face pales at what must be horrid memories.
“Could you stop me now? Awake and aware?” I whisper.
She closes her eyes. Sort of… shakes her head. “I made promises, Ina. I… I can’t just–”
Zigdara’s voice, despite being so very quiet, cracks through the room like a whip. “Like the ones you made to her Sangoma?”
Emarial flinches, but her eyes do not open.
My big duenna leans down, rests both fists on the table. “Or to me?” Her voice is just shy of a whispered growl. “What about those?”
Emarial’s eyes open, and she just… stares down at the table. Tears beginning to prickle in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She can barely force out the words. “I didn't mean for... This is so much more than I...”
Zigdara sighs, and moves to stand next to the big woman, takes chin and face in her hands, and pulls Emarial up to meet her gaze. It’s such an odd gesture. One that sings of control but… also annoyance and pain and… and even affections. Intimate in such a way that my first instinct is to look away. “Has Ina given you any reason to distrust her?”
Emarial’s face scrunches up, considers the question and Zigdara’s piercing gaze but… doesn’t pull free.
A single shake. “No. But…”
“But she’s carrying a burden you worry she’ll not handle well.” Zigdara interrupts. “That she will stumble and cause great pain and suffering if she falters.”
“I–” The big woman sees the point. “It’s not-”
“Who is the most likely to do that if they do not rest, Emarial!?!” Zigdara growls, and leans in close. “This amazingly kind girl sitting across from you, or the one who’s been burning her soul to remain awake for over seven months. Who is wounded and is in so much pain she can’t even think straight!?!”
Emarial lets out such a huff of breath. Then sags, hard. And what was a light stream of tears turns into a rushing river of pain. She begins to shake and tremble and just… fall apart under my big duenna’s words and touch.
Zigdara looks at me, I give her a soft smile and nod. And we lead the blubbering tired old Sun Spoken to one of this house's bedrooms.
Emarial hesitates in the door, and It’s like she’s staring at the most horrific scene of slaughter and pain rather than just a simple bed. But… Zigdara and I don’t let her stop for long. We help her strip away layers of uncomfortable clothes, then stack pillows and help the big woman get situated among the previously untouched quilts. Then I pull up a little chair to sit at her side.
“Please,” She whispers. “If… if you can’t do it just tell me now. Once I douse the flames I won’t be able to start them again.”
I take her wrapped and shattered hand in both mine gently, shush her. “I promise, Emarial. I feel the song bubbling. You will know nothing but silence until you wake back up.”
“They… please.” She is crying even harder now. “I… I can fight them all. Can’t… I’ll be asleep for days, Ina. I won't... they'll... I...”
“Them?” I tilt my head but… but even before her next words the truth becomes clear.
“Over three dozen shards, all…” She nods and swallows. “Merged and… and they… they hate me, Ina. I killed their Sun Spoken and they… they'll...
I shush her again. “We’ll talk when you're awake.”
She swallows, hard. Nods.
“Let it go, Emarial of the Sun Spoken.” Zigdara murmurs from the foot of the bed. “End your needless suffering and let the younger ones handle things for now.”
With a great sigh, Emarial closes her eyes, and ends the roiling horrid magic she’d called up seven months ago. Allowing that giant raging inferno of power to settle into a happy little gurgling of flame.
And the old Sun Spoken instantly falls into slumber. The months and probably years of exhaustion just… burying her.
Fuck me even without feeling it out I can sense the World Song groan under the sudden lack of weight Emarial’s Amwella was putting on it. The humming I let bubble out is such a soft and easy thing, especially with the World Song quieted. A lilting harmony that promises soft and dreamless sleep to the weary and wounded.
And as that song's magic wraps around her, I swirl in a pattern of healing and painlessness into the melody. Not… I’m not going to empty my Wellspring to try to heal all her nonsense. Just… speed things up and ensure when she wakes it’ll be into the same painlessness I was given for my leg.
Then I’m done, and Zigdara and I stand in near perfect silence. Emarial’s soft breathing is the only sound drifting through the little room.
I let out a deep sigh as I feel like months of stress are lifted.
“Thank you, Zigdara.” I whisper, slumping forward and resting my head in both hands as my confident mask cracks away. “I… I think you saved us both again. That could have… have gone really badly if you’d not been here.”
My duenna steps around the bed, rests a hand on my back, rubs slow circles. “How are you?”
“Relieved, tired, and…” I turn to smile up at her. “And a ton of other things I need weeks of my lover’s help to unravel. This… This was hard, and I wasn’t sure I could do it. Not… not the song but… but confronting her. Not alone.”
She nods. “We should head back to the manor. Get that day of rest you’ve earned.”
I smirk and shake my head. “Nope. I have more Arudian politicking to fumble at.”
THANK YOU ALL so SO SO SO much for reading and comments and drinking in our soul songs!!!
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And to check out a DARK lesbian/trans fantasy story feel free to read Lamentations of The Dead Dreamer!
BUT BE WARNED, it is dark and very much the opposite of Sun Spoken Turn in many ways. BIG sad/trauma!!!
Read the Content Warnings!
Hello friends and lovers!
MAPPY CHAPPY DAY!!!
WELCOME TO ARC 3 EVERYONE!!!
CW:
SpoilerScolding/burning pains. talk of belief of soul death and body puppeting/possession.
[collapse]
My lovers adore the first idea, understand and encourage the second, but… even more than Zigdara HATE the third.
“No.” Kque is the first to speak up while the rest just kinda balk at me. “Absolutely not. That… Ina she’s not in a healthy state of mind. The lack of sleep alongside those injuries have probably made her even more volatile. Possibly even unstable.”
Zigdara sips from her mug, expression screaming agreement when Kque’s eyes dance to her’s.
We’re all sitting in a side room with nice fluffy chairs and a couch. Yrelia pulled me into sitting on her lap almost the moment she stumbled here from our bedroom. Wearing just a big cute sweater and what I realize now are small cute underthings.
“And that’s why I need to go to her.” I huff. “Help her. And… get answers.”
“What answers?” Tasii asks.
And so… I share with them what happened in our Dream. Ask them to let me finish when they first start speaking up about the um… realization about the command being much harder to lift than She originally expected. But… that becomes such a secondary thought as I explain to them the past she’s shared and um… when I share with them what happened with that woman from the past.
My namesake. Her Inamatorii.
“That…” Kque spits. “ Fuck.”
“I second that.” Tasii huffs and runs fingers back through her hair.
“How do you think the big cunt can help?” Yrelia pulls from nuzzling my neck to ask in a much calmer voice than I expected.
I lean back into her and look up to the ceiling. “Because she has a different shard. It… It might have told her something different. And… Maybe… I feel inspired to try something.”
Jevita picks up on the word instantly, eyes widening. “Not… not just the thing we’ve been fiddling at? The healing? Something else?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
A long expectant pause.
“Is… Okay so… like… is this something you can explain with words or…?” Jevita scoots over from her spot on the floor to sit closer.
I shake my head. “Not really? Just… I feel like… I don’t know. I understand Her better now. But without agreeing. I can empathize while not like… Anyway that part doesn’t matter. I feel a little tittering in Her World Song. Strings or… or tides of movement I might be able to call. It’s… weird to explain.”
“Wait, Her World Song?” Jevita nearly jerks up, and I look down to see such a grin on her face.
“Mhm.” I giggle. “You were right, She doesn’t just fiddle with it. She Wove it. Called herself the Weaver of The World Song.”
“From what you’ve been able to share, that's both terrifying and kinda… amazing.” Yrelia murmurs, kissing the back of my neck.
I nod. “It’s like… like She spun this huge tapestry of magic over everything. A big blanket to keep everyone warm and… but also connected.”
“Okay but… that’s really beautiful but doesn’t really resolve this.” Tasii sighs. “This still sounds like a bad idea, Ina. But… I’m starting to understand how it might need to happen.”
Kque lets out a deep sigh. “Her Wellspring of Amwella.”
I nod.
“She… she should just leave!” Jevita growls. “Go back to… to whatever place She was hiding and… and leave you alone!”
“I agree.” Zigdara murmurs.
“But she probably won’t. Not anytime soon.” I smile sadly. “And every day is another day for her suffering to threaten to break loose into something really bad. I…”
Deep breath.
“When… When she attacked us, with Matron Veletross, they… hinted at something.” I whisper. “They expected me to… to me gone. Thought that the We– I mean Aceso, had killed me and was just… using my body to enact some last spiteful thing before my mind broke under the strain of Her.”
“Oh.” Kque murmurs after a second.
“And we were holding back. Avoiding hurting either of them until it became apparent we had no other choice.” My voice has gone even quieter. “But… We could’ve killed them both. Easily. Had so many chances that we just... didn't take. Worked so hard to not kill them.”
The room is so still. Everyone seems to be holding their breath. Zigdara’s eyes are wide with… things. Surprise, terror, a bit of… pain over… something.
“And you didn’t use your Amwella till it was time to destroy the Obelisks.” Yrelia murmurs.
I shake my head. “I can’t risk her falling apart. Slipping and… and… Giving her Weaver shard control. Aceso… She… I’ve seen the kind of things she knows could be done with my little Wellspring. If I was inspired to be horrid.”
Yrelia huffs. “Yeah. I hate that you have to clean up that cunt’s mess but… yeah. This needs to happen. And probably yesterday.”
Jevita sighs, looking around the room. “Should we go with her?”
“Be honest, Ina.” Tasii looks at me. “Can we help you with her? Do you think she’s less or more likely to co-operate with you if we’re there?”
I wince, but meet my second lover’s gaze. “We already broke both her arm and a hand. So her only choice would be to use some magic to try and kill me. Which… if she does that Aceso taught me the songs needed to deal with her. I’m not going in unprepared, and her Amwella’s nonsense won’t fuddle my magic now. It’ll fucking hurt, but… not enough to stop me from singing whatever I might need.”
“And I’ll be with her.” Zigdara pushes off the wall she’d been leaning against. “Emarial and I grew… close in our months of searching. Her actions against you were a betrayal to both myself and Lyttoral. And… I very nearly attacked her for it.”
I jerk to stare wide eyed at that. “What? When!?!”
“A week or so ago.” She’s nearly growling now. “I went to her, alone. While you were resting here.”
“Fuck.” I huff out. “You should have mentioned that. She could have… Zigdara that could have gone so badly–”
“She won’t betray me again.” She cracks her neck. “I made sure of that, and stand as a reminder to the weight of her broken promises.”
And so with that, after a wonderful breakfast provided by Tasii and Kque, I head out into the chilly winds with my duenna.
We don’t really say anything as we walk, both because there really isn’t much to talk about at this point, and we’re just too bundled up against the chilly winds. But now we stand before the humble little home on the edge of the city, a sort of… old home set aside for the visiting Sun Spoken.
Zigdara slams a big fist against the sturdy door three times, and I can’t help but wince at how obviously angry the thundering sound was. It doesn’t take long before the door clicks, then cracks open to reveal the woman we’ve come to speak with.
Emarial looks… fucking terrible.
Her only good hand is attached to a broken arm slung and bound to her chest, and her only good arm bears a shattered lump of wrapped nonsense. And… and the rest of her is fucking horrid as well. Eyes are sunken and laden with way bigger swollen bags beneath, and she just… seems so much lesser. Gaunt and deflated. Less… less of a light in her eyes.
But too bad none of that matters to the raging horrid flame of Amwella she bears. That still burns and makes me wince a bit.
“I…” She blinks a few times, looks between us. “Um… Come in, please.”
Then she awkwardly steps aside, and we march in. Zigdara both leading the way and keeping her body between me and the obviously unthreatening Sun Spoken.
Once we’re inside and I’m pulling my hood and scarf away Emarial speaks again.
“What brings you both here?” She carefully asks. Voice barely above a whisper now. Her throat seems raw and pained. “I… Could I offer you something to drink or anything?”
“No.” I reply curtly, but… there’s no bite to it. Simply impatience and… and a sudden influx of contradicting emotions.
Anger and pity, and the pain of betrayal with the still fluttering sparks of hope, and… and fear.
Sickening and roiling and… and almost spoiling my desire to help. Replacing it with an anxious need to run from this woman who tried to kill me. Or… or wanting to sing my fifth lover into my spirit to keep me safe.
“I have questions.”
She nods, pursing her lips. “Alright, let’s… let’s all sit down in the study.”
The ‘study’ isn’t much more than a little room with a few shelves of books and a table taking up the center space. Emarial takes a seat to the left of the head, and I can see that next to her spot is the familiar sight of the tome from Lyttoral and my own translation journal.
I take up the seat across from her, which seems to be her intention in avoiding the end seat. Zigdara silently refuses to sit and simply stands to my right.
“So…” She sort of… leans forward as best she can. Awkwardly unable to do more than rest her unbroken arm on the table. “What are your questions?”
“We’ll start with the easy ones, and go from there.” I sigh, then look her dead in the eyes. “But first, I’d like to free you of some pain.”
Her eyes widen, and Zigdara lets out an annoyed growl but… doesn’t speak her anger into the room.
She swallows, looks down. “But I don’t think that–”
“Pain makes people stupid, and I need you sharp.” I cut off what I’m guessing would be a blubbering of some kind of nonsense. “Just… shut up and let me get this done.”
And before she can object, I’m calling up my songs.
It… fucking… HURTS… Fuck fuck FUCK!
Her blazing core of Amwella is like a… a searing cauldron of pain that can’t help but splash in my face. Thank the Weaver I can sputter out the simple tunes I need in just a few seconds of observing and hearing the World Song.
When I’ve cut off the song Emarial has slumped a bit, and is now kind of breathing heavy.
“There.” I huff out. “That should…”
She looks back up to me with a grimace of pain, “Thank you for trying.”
“What do you mean thank you for trying?” I spit. “ That should have drowned you with relief!”
She shakes her head and tip taps her chest. “Just as Sun Spoken magic simply won’t harm the Weaver, I doubt anything but your most costly songs will be able to survive this fire's aura.”
“Why!?!” I hiss. “Why didn’t… Fuck. Okay. Just… Sit fucking still and let me–”
It’s Zigdara that speaks then, places a hand on my shoulder. “No.”
I turn to stare at her in confusion.
Emarial nods, “She’s right. Don’t waste your Wellspring on me.”
“Fuck.” I growl. “Fine. Great. I’ll save that for later then.”
She quirks an eyebrow but… doesn’t push, just adjusts and moves to sit as comfortably as possible. “Ask your questions.”
I huff. “What all has your shard told you about Herself. Her life and goals and… and why She’s the way She is? What exactly happened to break Her into so many shards?”
Emarial sighs and looks past me. “I don't know. She's told me almost nothing. It’s been a long time, and my dreams with Her were always… unpleasant. She would flitter between casual conversations and petty games. Didn’t see me as anything more than an amusement to toy with. And by the time we realized just how harmful some of the other shards were… well…”
“The Matron mentioned how some of our kind fell in love with Aceso.” I begin to prompt another question with that, but… a grimace from Emarial stops me.
“What?”
“You’ve named Her.” Emarial sighs, glances down at her broken hands.
“Oh.” I whisper as I understand the pained look in her eyes. “I’m not the first to do that, am I?”
She shakes her head. “No. It wasn’t common except with…” Then she looks back up to me, face twisted into a sort of helpless pleading.
I feel a prickle of that old fear from my last night in the library. Of Emarial’s threats, and… and the matron Veletross’ story.
“With the ones you killed.” I supply in a whisper.
She nods, and I sense Zigdara shuffle slightly. An obvious adjustment. A warning.
You won’t win this fight.
Emarial sighs. “It was a sign of attachment. Her true name is old and horrid to witness, and is often accompanied by a possession of the Sun Spoken’s flesh. So… many either provided Her a name or let Her choose a new one.”
“Veletross didn’t tell me what their plans were, or what drove you to hunt our kind.” I supply. “I’d like to know what those shards were planning.”
She shakes her head and glares past me. “Why would you want to know that?”
I narrow my eyes. “Because I’d like to make sure my fifth lover doesn’t stumble down their horrid path. I mean to protect Her, Emarial. She’s broken and hurting and honestly? Terrified.”
She snorts, “You speak as though She’s just some abused girl, and not an ancient blighted–”
“That’s because She is, you stupid cunt!” I don’t shout, but my tone cause the old Sun Spoken to jerk back. “Do you even fucking know why She’s in so much pain?”
She stops stop. Sort of… sputters out in a confused huff. “You can’t trust Her, Ina she’s just–”
“Lying to me?” I snap, cutting her off again. “Telling me She just wants to help while actually considering if She’ll need to kill me? Refusing to just… treat me as a fucking person instead of some wild animal that might need to die?”
Emarial winces. “I–”
“Because there is exactly one person in this room who has lied to me, repeatedly!” I’m snarling now. Voice a mess of fury and passion and… and is twisting into something more. “And it’s not Aceso!!!”
Zigdara huffs her agreement.
Emarial looks down, pitifully offers. “She’s hurt you. Drove you to using the Dream stone to protect yourself.”
I snort. “Right, and also tried to have me killed and– OH WAIT!!! That wasn’t her!” I do shout then. “That was you! You stupid vindictive big cunt! YOU and your ex lover tried to slaughter us AFTER you told me to run under threat of said violence.”
Emarial’s frozen up. Stilled entirely as she glares down at the notebook.
“Aceso could have done everything you feared and WORSE.” I growl as I find myself standing. “She could have mind fucked me so badly I’d have happily slaughtered every single m–”
I hiss at the sudden almost pain as the word and thought very nearly bubbles out. Emarial glances up, eyebrows almost raised in–
“Don’t you fucking say a word!” I snap, pointing a finger at her. “She’s already removed the first command, and has promised to get this one out of my head. It’s deeper and will take longer, but She’s willing to fix Her mistakes, Sun Spoken. Are you?”
She flinches, but… meets my gaze. “What do you want, Ina?”
“Tell me what they were planning.” I let my voice soften. “Tell me what you know about Her past. What the other Sun Spoken knew. Fucking… trust us to not repeat their mistakes.”
“And if I don’t?” She whispers.
“Really?” I keep my voice soft. “Emarial I’m not like you. I’m not threatening you. I’m doing the opposite in fact. I'm going to help you! No matter what you offer me today.”
She jerks. “How?”
And as my own fury seems to… to thrum in a sort of contrasting harmony to the horrid flame as Emarial’s core, I feel the inspiration bubbling up.
“By giving you the dreamless sleep you so desperately need. No matter how much Amwella it costs me.”
Emarial just… stares. Face a blank mask. Finally says. “No.”
“Not really an offer.” I shrug. “I’ll have Zigdara here pin you to a bed if needed while I work the song.”
“No.” She repeats, growling this time as she eyes Zigdara.
My duenna snorts. “Without you resorting to magic it would be easy enough.”
The older Sun Spoken looks back to me. Face a twist of worry and pain and anger and… Hope.
Just… Such a deep desire for the thing I mean to give her.
“You can’t be sure it’ll work.” Is all she can say.
“Yes I can. Aceso’s checked my melody and assures me it’ll keep your mind free of any shard’s power until you awaken. Lulls you and it into a slumber too quiet for Dreams to bubble up.”
“Then… then why didn’t you do this for yourself!?!” She spits. Real anger starting to rise up.
I sigh, “See? This is what I mean. If you were well rested I think you’d have answered that question for yourself.”
She jolts to a stop again, brows furrowed in thought. “She… You learned this song from Her?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m more inspired lately, this is mine. Guess again.”
A long pause.
With a sigh I just… say it. No reason to torment her over this. “It took time and care and… and understanding things a little better, sure. Stress is the bane to good artwork, but… It’s because I need the person to be in the first steps of sleep when I start this. It’s kinda of like that Dream Stone I showed you.”
“I…” She winces, shakes her head. “I have to say no. It’s too much of a risk.”
“Why?” I press. “Because I could take advantage of you while you sleep? Try to do what you did to the other Sun Spoken and just… kill you and drink up your Amwella?”
Emarial's face pales at what must be horrid memories.
“Could you stop me now? Awake and aware?” I whisper.
She closes her eyes. Sort of… shakes her head. “I made promises, Ina. I… I can’t just–”
Zigdara’s voice, despite being so very quiet, cracks through the room like a whip. “Like the ones you made to her Sangoma?”
Emarial flinches, but her eyes do not open.
My big duenna leans down, rests both fists on the table. “Or to me?” Her voice is just shy of a whispered growl. “What about those?”
Emarial’s eyes open, and she just… stares down at the table. Tears beginning to prickle in her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She can barely force out the words. “I didn't mean for... This is so much more than I...”
Zigdara sighs, and moves to stand next to the big woman, takes chin and face in her hands, and pulls Emarial up to meet her gaze. It’s such an odd gesture. One that sings of control but… also annoyance and pain and… and even affections. Intimate in such a way that my first instinct is to look away. “Has Ina given you any reason to distrust her?”
Emarial’s face scrunches up, considers the question and Zigdara’s piercing gaze but… doesn’t pull free.
A single shake. “No. But…”
“But she’s carrying a burden you worry she’ll not handle well.” Zigdara interrupts. “That she will stumble and cause great pain and suffering if she falters.”
“I–” The big woman sees the point. “It’s not-”
“Who is the most likely to do that if they do not rest, Emarial!?!” Zigdara growls, and leans in close. “This amazingly kind girl sitting across from you, or the one who’s been burning her soul to remain awake for over seven months. Who is wounded and is in so much pain she can’t even think straight!?!”
Emarial lets out such a huff of breath. Then sags, hard. And what was a light stream of tears turns into a rushing river of pain. She begins to shake and tremble and just… fall apart under my big duenna’s words and touch.
Zigdara looks at me, I give her a soft smile and nod. And we lead the blubbering tired old Sun Spoken to one of this house's bedrooms.
Emarial hesitates in the door, and It’s like she’s staring at the most horrific scene of slaughter and pain rather than just a simple bed. But… Zigdara and I don’t let her stop for long. We help her strip away layers of uncomfortable clothes, then stack pillows and help the big woman get situated among the previously untouched quilts. Then I pull up a little chair to sit at her side.
“Please,” She whispers. “If… if you can’t do it just tell me now. Once I douse the flames I won’t be able to start them again.”
I take her wrapped and shattered hand in both mine gently, shush her. “I promise, Emarial. I feel the song bubbling. You will know nothing but silence until you wake back up.”
“They… please.” She is crying even harder now. “I… I can fight them all. Can’t… I’ll be asleep for days, Ina. I won't... they'll... I...”
“Them?” I tilt my head but… but even before her next words the truth becomes clear.
“Over three dozen shards, all…” She nods and swallows. “Merged and… and they… they hate me, Ina. I killed their Sun Spoken and they… they'll...
I shush her again. “We’ll talk when you're awake.”
She swallows, hard. Nods.
“Let it go, Emarial of the Sun Spoken.” Zigdara murmurs from the foot of the bed. “End your needless suffering and let the younger ones handle things for now.”
With a great sigh, Emarial closes her eyes, and ends the roiling horrid magic she’d called up seven months ago. Allowing that giant raging inferno of power to settle into a happy little gurgling of flame.
And the old Sun Spoken instantly falls into slumber. The months and probably years of exhaustion just… burying her.
Fuck me even without feeling it out I can sense the World Song groan under the sudden lack of weight Emarial’s Amwella was putting on it. The humming I let bubble out is such a soft and easy thing, especially with the World Song quieted. A lilting harmony that promises soft and dreamless sleep to the weary and wounded.
And as that song's magic wraps around her, I swirl in a pattern of healing and painlessness into the melody. Not… I’m not going to empty my Wellspring to try to heal all her nonsense. Just… speed things up and ensure when she wakes it’ll be into the same painlessness I was given for my leg.
Then I’m done, and Zigdara and I stand in near perfect silence. Emarial’s soft breathing is the only sound drifting through the little room.
I let out a deep sigh as I feel like months of stress are lifted.
“Thank you, Zigdara.” I whisper, slumping forward and resting my head in both hands as my confident mask cracks away. “I… I think you saved us both again. That could have… have gone really badly if you’d not been here.”
My duenna steps around the bed, rests a hand on my back, rubs slow circles. “How are you?”
“Relieved, tired, and…” I turn to smile up at her. “And a ton of other things I need weeks of my lover’s help to unravel. This… This was hard, and I wasn’t sure I could do it. Not… not the song but… but confronting her. Not alone.”
She nods. “We should head back to the manor. Get that day of rest you’ve earned.”
I smirk and shake my head. “Nope. I have more Arudian politicking to fumble at.”
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