LSRO: Chapter 344 - Steely Resolve (Patreon)

Finally mostly in a groove. I have plans laid out and threads waiting to be woven...

I think I've hit my stride. Weeeeee.

Also... raising teenagers is guaranteed to knock 25 years off your life. I promise I'll finish Library before I die... hahaha not really. The dying part. The series will get finished LOL.

Anyway. Hope you enjoy this!

~~

Chapter 7

Steely Resolve

Dro watched them all with palpable nervousness. Her legs jittered, her eyes kept changing color, and her scales flashed, revealing themselves over her human form like Quinn's did. Dro's eyes bled in and out of the sclera, lending a strange kaleidoscope effect to her gaze.

A part of Quinn felt sorry for her, and she missed several words Milaro said. “Sorry. I got distracted.”

He gave her one of the few disapproving looks she’d ever got from him. “You cannot let yourself be distracted once we dive in and help her. If you truly think you can’t do this, you need to let me know now. Once we’re in there, I need to trust you’ll know what you’re doing.”

She regarded him for several seconds before answering. “I can do it. I was only distracted by feelings sorry for her. She just seems so... lost.”

Milaro glanced over at their soon to be patient, and his expression softened. “I see. I understand even , but that’s all the more reason you need to be present and capable.”

Quinn nodded. “I’ve got this. Although... wouldn’t it be better for you to ask Nishpa to help?”

The elf king studied Quinn for a moment. “No. It wouldn’t. She’s not a cosmicisodracus, and she’s... well, otherwise occupied right now.”

She frowned and followed Milaro as he walked over. His demeanor changed from what it’d been while he interrogated her. A softening of his brow, and a gentle tone to his voice. This had the immediate effect of calming Dro down. “We’re going to get you comfortable, although the cuffs need to remain. We can’t risk this being an act by you, although I don’t believe it is.”

As he spoke, the chair beneath her aunt morphed into a sort of lounge chair made of the same material, and the cuffs attached to the wrist instead of the chair she’d been seated on. Quinn moved to stand beside him, running through what they needed to do in her mind.

Dro nodded, a flash of stubbornness passing through her eyes briefly. She took in a deep breath. “I can do this. I give you consent. But I’ll notice the moment you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing.”

Milaro smiled. “Of course. I don’t really care about what you’ve got inside your mind other than to figure out what portions of your memories are whole, injured, or else modified.”

Dro glanced at Quinn. “And? Is she capable?”

“She fought off Kajaro more than once. Her innate talents appear to give her quite an advantage.” Milaro answered matter-of-factly.

The Library produced two small stools next to the sofa. It was perfect for Quinn to perch on, but Milaro had to fold his body in order to sit down. Quinn chuckled.

“That’s enough out of you,” he said, refusing to give in to his own chuckle.

“Sure it is.” Then she looked at Dro, and pushed the presence of everyone else to the back of her mind. “I’ve gone memory diving on more than one occasion in someone else’s head. Milaro’s been training me since I got here. I’ll do my best to help him figure out just what’s going on.”

Dro looked her dead in the eyes, apparently liked what she saw there, and nodded. Once. Before laying back and closing her eyes.

“Ready?” Milaro asked? Quinn didn’t feel like speaking, so she just nodded.

He took her hand, and she felt their mental connection pick up like a soft summer breeze. His warmth, the caring nature, it enveloped her.

When she opened her metaphorical eyes, Dro’s mind took her breath away.

And not in a good way.

The darkness here gathered at the edges like encroaching black mold. Everywhere around them were fragments of memory, in pieces of recollection resembling a shattered mirror. The events within played on loop in such a fashion Quinn was surprised Dro retained any form of sanity. It took several seconds for Quinn to maintain her composure before looking at Milaro. 

Her mentor frowned as he turned slowly to get a solid 360 of the whole area. She could practically see his mind working through countless calculations as he took in the images in front of them.

Is this her mind? No rooms, passageways, or halls? Just this huge ballroom-like expanse.

Milaro paused slightly before answering. It would seem so...

Quinn didn’t understand such an open mind. What about places to hide secrets? Things to hold dear? Instances of anger? Quinn always kept hers sequestered in separate sections inside her mind, and not even just since learning magic.

Go over all these memories, Milaro spoke suddenly. Find the ones that are altered. Those are the ones needing healing.

Quinn nodded and headed to the left to work from there. The shards over here seemed modified. Or perhaps just demonstrative of how a broken mirror of the mind appeared? She wasn’t sure. When she finally got to the third shard, she realized it hadn’t been demonstrative, just the way broken pieces looked in the mind.

The one she stood in front of showed haphazard signs of stitching around the edges. Or at least stitching as it pertained to grafting elements together in something as indistinguishable as a memory slot. Jagged pieces of sinew attached the mirror shard to the wall of memories. But instead of being the silver-tinged background that was the shattered mirror, it appeared to have an underlying yellow tint. Quinn frowned at it. The off-colored glow was only visible from certain angles, but it was definitely there.

She beckoned to Milaro, who didn’t appear see her at first. So she spoke telepathically instead, risking startling him. Found something interesting.

Good. Milaro sounded annoyed. I haven’t found anything yet.

As he approached, it was obvious he could tell what she saw. His brow furrowed, and a smile graced his lips. This’ll help us recognize what we’re looking for.

Yes, Quinn said, but what exactly is it we’re looking at?

He blinked at her. An altered perception, or memory if you will. 

She raised an eyebrow, and he tugged at her, pulling her to view it with him. It’s easier to show you what I mean than to tell you.

Quinn allowed herself to be tugged and almost immediately wished she hadn’t.

How Dro could believe this was one of her own memories confused Quinn. Just as she was about to ask something, Milaro beat her to the punch. It only looks like this at the moment because she’s started realizing it’s not actually one of her recollections.

That made so much more sense. 

The whole scene in front of her had jagged edges, ripping into the edges of the vision like the sharp claws of a wilder beast desperately trying to hang onto prey. The scene unfolded in front of her, pushing through smoky clouds just to bring itself into focus. 

Dravishk stood front and center, a kind smile on his face. It flickered several times before it finally settled on a half-smiling grimace, probably far more like the actual event. He was speaking to Dro, but his sister was lost, her massive body cradling that of another on the floor, surrounded by sheer chaotic devastation.

“You see why Drev is evil, don’t you?” He posed the question.

Dro shook her head vehemently, but the next second she nodded, anger flitting through her eyes. The overlay glitched, showing both the grieving dragon and the angry one imposed over one another.

“It’s been manipulating us this whole time. Needing our help...” another glitch, “hating our loved ones.”

Confusion washed over Dro’s face, and for several seconds she seemed bewildered. “No... that’s...”

“But it is,” said Dravishk in a soothing, lulling tone.

“Of course it is,” said incredulously by Dro, juxtaposed an underlying sobbing coughed, “You’re making no sense.”

We need to remove the overlay. This will only make her more confused.

Milaro nodded. Just be as gentle as possible.

Quinn wanted to retort that no, she’d meant to just rip them off like a bandaid, but decided flippancy was best left out of her aunt’s already fragile mind-space. I got it.

The scene kept playing, even as the grip of the fake one got pried away gently. Quinn started with the claws, attaching both scenes to one another. The original seemed so damaged underneath. She pried away at the claws, pulling them gently off before disintegrating each claw. As she worked, Quinn got more of the story. 

In reality, the scene had been close, yet Dravishk had twisted and modified it in such a way, it was difficult to manage without damaging some of the actual memory. All while she worked, Quinn had to listen to Drav’s sinuous insertions.

“He never loved you. He just used your power.”

“You’ve always been the deadweight of the siblings.”

“Why can’t you do anything useful? Surely you didn’t think this person actually loved you?”

“You’re a pathetic excuse of a cosmicisodracus. I’m ashamed to call you a sibling.” 

All the while, he stitched the new, sickly sweet lies over the top. He’d only needed her to have a memory of him at that time in order to gain a foothold when he modified them. It twisted Quinn’s stomach, made her want to gag. Made her want to deal with him permanently .

It took so much time, but eventually they managed to remove all the claws clinging to her memory and finally free the real one.

Images of black waves of sludge engulfing a planet, of the ground sizzling, of people dying. Of Dro standing back and not knowing what she could do, having arrived mere seconds too late. At least she’d had enough self-preservation not to dive in headfirst. Just enough. 

The fumes, though? They made her woozy, hovering in the air like that. Her head spun, and when the clouds finally cleared and the essence of chaos retracted from the world, she didn’t wait long to dive and check. She knew the Library wasn’t strong enough yet. It hadn’t gained enough books, enough patrons, enough pillars yet. Building a Library appeared to be a vaster job than any of them expected, and while Dro knew her sibling was trying its best, she couldn’t help the sense of revulsion, the sense of absolute betrayal that threatened to overwhelm her in all her grief. How many more millennia would it take to prevent this? What even was the use of trying if this was the end result?

She gathered her fallen love into her arms, his body rotting, turning into the stone-like ash as she touched him, and that’s when Dravishk landed. 

That’s when her brother decided to take her emotions and manipulate them for his own gain. 

Quinn felt the turmoil in Dro’s mind, the anger, the sadness. It petered out, her mind peaceful once more. Did you do that?"

Milaro nodded. Had to. She was about to go into a rage. We have far too much work to do in here for her to do that quite yet.

Can we help her once everything is done? Quinn didn’t know how to say she wasn’t sure they’d ever be able to fix what she went through.

Slowly nodding, Milaro turned a sad smile in her direction. We can help her, but I doubt we’ll ever be able to fix what’s happened, more than on a surface level, anyway.

At least it’s something. Quinn said, turning to the next modified memory. Determination welled up inside her. 

This intricate mind work wasn’t something she’d thought to have the finesse for. It was therapeutic in a way, the realization that she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered because of this grand ploy. She wasn’t the only one who’d had people taken from her. And she wasn’t the only one susceptible to manipulation.

Quinn resolved to go through all her memories, to look at the accident in a new light and see just what she was missing. Maybe the Eagle Eye could help her.

Her resolve made, she returned to repairing Dro’s memories, working side by side next to Milaro with new steely resolve giving her strength.

~~

Poor Dro... sort of. Perhaps too easily swayed, right?

But I think we can all agree Dravishk is an asshole.

Much love

KT