Imago Ch13: Ghosts (Patreon)

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Astraea still looks shaken, even a little dazed as they walk. L wants desperately to ask what happened, but for now she holds her tongue. With Evander’s audience concluded, Xylia finally comes to life. L catches sight of dryads passing down the avenues, liquid gold and shining crowns of branches. Some remain in their glorified tree forms, but most shift back into their more human selves… the shape Astraea spends most of her time in.They move without urgency, each going about their own business. The largest group heads towards the Rookery, presumably to collect their nymphs. Others stare as they pass, showing a whole range of emotions. Disdain. Pity. Disgust. Curiosity. The one constant is a complete disinterest in hiding what they think. L drifts closer to Astraea, shielding them both with her wings. They may be outsiders, but they still have each other.They navigate a maze of overgrown pergolas, emerging into a district of soaring towers. The buildings are taller than the Rookery, laid out in graceful blocks and streets.  Astraea silently leads them along the edge of the central aetherway canal until they reach the one she’s after - a nondescript spire with a wizened brownie at the door. He bows silently and holds it open for them, ushering the pair into what looks for all the world like a hotel lobby.L cranes her neck as she steps inside, letting out a low whistle. An enormous central column climbs up from the floor, with a great spiralling staircase winding around it. At the very centre is a lift crafted from copper struts.  L is relieved to see Astraea walk straight onto the platform instead of trying the staircase, fluttering after her as she presses a floor number. The doors close, and they climb, higher and higher. By the time the doors open again, the ground floor is lost in a haze of soft light far below. Still silent, Astraea steps out onto the walkway, L at her shoulder. She fishes a key out of her pocket, walking over to a door of exquisite bronze latticework and opaque amber glass."...Is this where you live?"  L asks.“This is where we live.” Astraea says. “Or used to… anyway.”  She slips the key into the lock, gently opening the door.Astraea’s flat, like everything in Xylia, is a barrage of opulent metal and delicate wood. The effect is only slightly spoiled by the chill of abandonment. The air is stale, and a thin layer of dust covers everything.“Could you get the windows, L? I’ll turn on the heat."  Astraea calls over her shoulder as she disappears down a hallway. L cautiously crosses over to the closest window; it’s twice her height and framed by cobwebbed drapes. It takes her a moment to work out the latch, and when she does the windows practically spring open, flooding the room with fresh air. Neith II squirms out of her pack, sniffing curiously.“Easy, Nibblemonster.” L murmurs, letting the alp-luachra wriggle up her shoulder as she looks around. She’s in what she’d guess is a living room. Astraea’s gone down a hallway, across from an archway shielded by gauzy curtains. And near to the entrance of the apartment, an open kitchen -Something tugs at her, and she twitches, looking accusingly at Neith II. It isn’t the little worm, though, or anything physical. Just…an impulse.L frowns and walks behind a low island counter, letting Neith II off to hunt for crumbs. She runs her eyes over the rows of cupboards. One handle feels more inviting than the rest. Her antennae twitch, drinking in unfamiliar scents. Somehow, she can identify them without even trying. Candied insects and dried venison, glazed roots and jars of seasoned mushrooms - L yanks the door open, but the cupboard is empty. “Hungry?”  L jumps. Astraea is right behind her, looking up at her with that tired, fragile expression.  Streaks of light cut snaking patterns through the marble floor beneath their feet, warming the cold stone. "I can send for someone to restock the larder.""N-no, that’s alright."Astraea wraps her arms around herself, looking away with a halfhearted chuckle.  “It was so like Lyra to find food before anything else.” “Astraea, are you alright?” L asks. The dryad blinks and looks up, as if she’s just realised where she is. “Am I… of course!”L gives her a look, and Astraea hurriedly turns away, grabbing a kettle from a hook and dipping it into a basin of water. “Yes, well… alright. No, not really.”L flutters onto the counter, letting her legs swing free and stretching out her wings. “I won’t pry if you don’t want me to.”Astraea freezes on the spot.  “It’s just… cleansings are…”   She stops, then lowers her head.  “No… I’d just rather not talk about it.”“I’m sorry, Astraea.” L murmurs. The dryad sighs, then gives a cracked smile and shrugs, running her hands over an indented section of the counter.  Little purple flames spring to life from hidden jets, and she hangs the kettle over them. L watches, fascinated despite herself.“Well at least, for better or worse, it’s only seven days.”Astraea looks back at L, blank-faced.  “Seven days?”L tilts her head. “Yes? Those were the King’s terms? Remember?” “Right, but-”“But what.”  L interjects. “We can’t mess about. She said she’d execute our friends - “Astraea winces, holding up her hands. “It’s 25 days here.  In Gwyllion.""Twenty-fi - " L sputters. "What? No, Astraea, she said seven, she wasn’t negotiating!"“R-right, seven in Annwyn. Twenty five in Gwyllion. Because… I worked all this out already." Astraea shifts uneasily. "Time works differently between our worlds.” "Different how?" A shiver runs up L’s spine, a dozen different stories flashing through her mind. People spending a single day in fairyland, only to return so aged and decrepit they immediately turn to dust. "Explain." Astraea wrings her hands furtively.  “it's seven cycles in Gwyllion to every day in Annwyn. Seven days in Annwyn would be forty-nine here. But at the end of this month we're holding the annual passage ceremony.  On that night an entire year passes in Annwyn for what will be, to us,  a single night in Gwyllion.” “So if we don’t leave before then, we'll have missed our window by a year?"Astraea nods. Ian’s face flashes through L’s mind, and her stomach twists.“... I… I need to do the maths myself.” She sighs, running her hand over her antennae. “Just to check. I trust you, Astraea.”Astraea offers her a queasy smile. L gets back to her feet. "Sorry. No, this is good news. I didn’t mean to jump at you like that."“You’re worried for Ian.”  Astraea pulls out a teapot and scoops something minty into the catch. “I’m worried for him, too.”An awkward silence descends over the kitchen, only broken when the kettle starts to whistle. Astraea makes a hurried grab for it and clears her throat. “I-I forgot to ask.   What brought you to the kitchen?”L blinks. “What?”“The kitchen? You seemed… I’m not sure.  Like you had a reason for being here?”         I̶  d̷i̴d̶.̸“I did.” L blinks harder. “I… don’t remember what.”Astraea frowns, setting the kettle down with a clunk.  L furrows her brow, thinking hard.  “I don’t know. I just felt… something.”Something flickers in Astraea’s eyes.  “...like what?”L hops down, easing back over to the cupboard. She can remember how certain she felt, how familiar the handle had been in her palm. That electric feeling…L trails a hand over the counter for Neith II to wriggle up on as she circles back into the flat’s living room. The windows. The balcony. There’s something there, alright. Something pulling at her, across the room, towards the curtained door.“Astraea?”  She asks, running her hand along the fabric. “What’s beyond here?”“It’s… ah… well… are you sure?”L glances back curiously as Astraea hurries over, her glow flickering anxiously. “Is it something bad?”The dryad gives a little curt shake of her head, her eyes dancing back and forth between the far wall and the windows. L hesitates, then pulls the curtain aside.It is unmistakably a bedroom. A circular bed with an ornately carved frame dominates the space, tight white sheets pulled to an immaculate fit over the mattress. Alcoves have been carved into the walls; some cushioned for seating, others narrow and holding burned-down candles or grey, long-dead flowers. L paces around the bed. She reaches out to touch one of the flowers, then draws back as the petals crumble away into flakes. Neith II sneezes and wriggles away, coiling around the offending vase to gnaw vindictively on a stem. L settles on the bed, running her hands over the covers.   Yes. There’s…something…warm. Her teeth clench together, and her breath hitches. Something coiling in her chest. Her hand grips the covers tight. Warm and soft, lips and hands and - L shivers and stands upright, almost leaping away. The feeling fades like a ripple, but it takes a moment longer to sort her thoughts out.         “S̸o̸ t̷h̵i̶s w̴a̷s̷  our b̵e̸d̴.“So this was her bed.”“Yes.”  Astraea says in a raspy voice, pulling up tighter against the pillar. She’s lingering in the doorway, her eyes hidden by her hair.  “Once upon a time.”The pull returns, something whispering at the very edge of her hearing. L steps past the bed, turning her attention to the wall. It’s covered in an intricate pattern of interlacing copper vines, too thickly woven to see the wall beneath it. “What about this?” L asks, putting a hand on the closest vine.  “Did you pick this out together, or…?”“Do you… really need to know?” Astraea asks, her voice so strangled that L has to turn and look in surprise. She’s halfway behind the pillar, as if she’s about to sidle out of the room.  “Don’t you… know already?”L shakes her head in confusion. She isn’t sure why, but there’s something about this patch of the wall. Standing where she is, having her hand on that particular vine, feels right.Although in a different way from the bed. L shoves the thought aside as quickly as she can. “No, and it’s driving me mad, I think. Sorry - ”But Astraea’s already crossing the room, staring at a point just above L’s head. She folds her arms and clears her throat. “You have to promise not to tell a soul.”“Actually, I thought I’d pick Puck’s brain about all this.” L says offhandedly. Astraea gasps in horror, then realising, stifles a laugh. “Especially not Puck.”She steps forward, then places her hand on the same vine, pressing down on a leaf just above L’s palm. The vines writhe as though alive, parting one by one to reveal a tiny wooden door. It’s barely large enough to admit either one of them, but Astraea ducks down with the ease of long practice and slips through. L follows after a moment.It’s a walk-in closet, and considering everything else in Xylia, a pretty mundane one.   Mostly it’s white and black garments, some footwear, a few baubles - along with a less-welcoming selection of decorative chains and intricate masks. Astraea’s standing in the corner, her arms crossed and her cheeks bright red. L raises an eyebrow. “I don’t get it.” She says. “Some of this would be a bit weird back home, but it’s sort of…tame for here, isn’t it? Look - “ She picks up an alabaster minidress and holds it to herself, fluttering it for emphasis. Astraea hurriedly looks away. “I could wear this and almost feel dressed. What’s the matter? I’m not damaging it, am I - “ L stops, looking down. There’s something odd about the back of the garment. It’s sheer, but solid. There’s no opening for wings.Wondering if she’s missed something, L prods at it with a finger, but there’s no hidden fastener, no artfully-concealed slits. She sets the dress down and pulls out another one. It’s the same. And the third. And the fourth. L reaches for a black dress. Before she even takes it down, she can feel the spaces in the fabric. She lowers her hand. “Astraea…?”  “Please leave.”  Astraea asks, her voice stiff and wooden.   “... I need a moment.”L hurries out, her mind whirling, as  the door thumps shut behind her. Without thinking, she moves to sit on the bed - only to shoot back up away from it before she can settle down on the mattress. The time seems to drag on, punctuated only by faint, mysterious thumping and clinking from the closet.  Finally, the door clicks. "D... don't laugh, okay?" Astraea asks. L shakes her head fervently. “I’d never.” There’s a nervous-sounding rustle, a metallic jangle, and then Astraea steps back into the light, staring fixedly at the floor.She's in white. A short dress that barely goes below her thighs, and just as low cut over her chest, sheer cloth backlit by her golden glow. L has never seen quite so very much of the dryad before. On her wrists and ankles are a pair of gilded manacles, linked by glinting chains streaming between them in an easy, if restrictive, flow.  And most importantly, two golden leaflets encircle her ears and twist along the sides of her face, poised along her jaw.She looks…fragile. As if the silhouette behind the nymph clothes is about to blow away , like one of the dead flowers. L’s wings shudder. “Does this…” Astraea whispers. “... bring back anything?”It doesn’t. Not at first. There’s just surprise, then that…sense of certainty. L takes a slow step forward, towards the light. The warmth. Her talons lift, pressing lightly against the deactivated mask, holding Astraea’s head perfectly still.“...L..?” Is it just her imagination? No. Her antennae can sense it. The quickening heartbeat, aligning with her own. Her lips part in a hunter’s smile. That feels familiar, too, the surge of desire to… What… bite Astraea?  No, not that. “... L..!”The way Astraea’s mouth moves fascinates her. The way she shapes her words. How she can look so frightened, yet so anticipating. The same urge that told her the cupboard would be full of dried venison and candied beetles knows that her mouth tastes like honey and lavender, that her breath - “Lyra?”  L and Astraea break apart, L nearly stumbling over the bed as her thoughts slam back into place. Astraea’s staring at her wide-eyed, pressed back among the vines. They lock eyes for a moment, breathing raggedly - Before Astraea turns and runs out of the room.“Astraea, wait!” L calls hoarsely, stumbling as she tries to get her body working again.  “Please wait, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I don’t know what that was!”  The door to the balcony slams as L breaks through the curtains. She thumps against the glass, fumbling blindly for the handle. She can see Astraea, braced over the railing, arms covering her head as she shudders violently with tears. She's never seen her cry like this.  But she knows it on some deeper level. She knows how it feels to see, and to comfort her. L draws in a breath, refocusing on her own dim reflection. Lyra stares back at her from the glass, all amber eyes and hooked talons.“What the hell are you doing?” She hisses. Her reflection doesn’t answer. It doesn’t even look apologetic. Had it been Lyra? She’d been awake. Aware, mostly. But those thoughts…those feelings and memories…Gently, L opens the balcony door and steps out into the night air.  Astraea turns a little away from her, trying pointlessly to hide her face. Without speaking, L settles next to her. Waiting. "She just left me."  Astraea finally says, wiping at her cheeks with the sheer fabric of her sleeve. “No…explanation. Here one day, and then...." Her breath catches, and she hiccups, folding in on herself. "It ripped a hole inside me. Th-that’s never healed, L. I thought of a million explanations why she might have left, b-but none of it did any good. She was gone, and I was left with this big empty feeling. Like the world was broken. Like nothing was ever going to be good again.”  Astraea chokes out a low laugh, then buries her face in her arms."And now I keep seeing you here, looking like her, and all I want to think is that you're back! That you're here, and that everything can just-" She looks up, her cheeks streaked with glimmering tears. "That you'll be you again! That you'll stop talking like L and just be - "Her voice catches, and she rests her grip on the railing.“A-and that’s not fair to you. And that’s not fair to me. It’s all so confusing. The closer I get to seeing her in you, the harder this feels.”“Do you want some space?”  L asks softly, leaning against the door.  “I can…leave you alone, if that will make this easier.Astraea stares at her, and L gives a sad, quiet chuckle. “I’ll take that for a yes, then. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”“Wait,”L turns back, one hand braced on the glass. Astraea’s standing against the railing, her face trembling as she struggles to control her voice.   “You’re all I have left of her. Don’t…” Astraea takes a step towards her. “Don’t go.”“It’ll hurt you if I stay.” L says.“It’ll hurt me if you leave.” Astraea answers.The breeze whispers over the balcony, rustling their clothes. Silently, L walks back to the railing, standing shoulder to shoulder with Astraea. Together they take in the Grove below. Little lights following the arteries of the living city, coming and going against a backdrop of velvet night. Time slipping away, until the distant clock chimes as it moves one tick closer to a new moon. The golden illumination of the aether pool dims perceptibly, giving way to the eternal night sky. In the distance, titanic automatons move to each of the city’s six gates.L glances over, intending to ask how the automatons are made, and notices that Astraea is shivering. She’s never seen her shiver before, but out in the chill air, dressed as she is…“Would you like to go back inside?” Astraea nods tiredly, and L takes her arm, guiding her back out of the cold. She stops in the middle of the living room, looking around as if she’s lost. L closes the balcony door behind them and clears her throat.“... would you like to change?” Astraea glances towards the bedroom, then back at L, then down at her hands.  “... is it alright if I don’t?”“...it’s, uhm.”  L’s cheeks colour. She wonders what Ian would say. Somehow, it’s hard to picture him responding with anything but that big, smug grin. The one that always feels aimed right at her.  “...y-yes. If you’re comfortable as you are then... Y-yeah, it's fine.”Astraea hides a shy half-smile behind her hand, then struggles out of her shoes, clambers slowly onto the bed and curls against a pillow. L kicks off her own shoes and perches at the edge of the bed, watching Astraea.“I feel her, you know. I feel Lyra.” L offers. “All over this place. Impressions. Sensations.  Feelings.”“... are memories coming back, then? Do you have any idea about what the flash is?”L shakes her head.  “No. Nothing that specific. But I think we can… rule out one thing.”“What’s that?”  Astraea asks, sitting up.“Everything she felt here was something positive. Warmth, contentment. O…other things. Nothing even remotely like that crushing light. Whatever made her feel that way didn’t happen here.”“Well I suppose that’s… something.”  Astraea says, the littlest bit of relief in her face.   She looks down at the second pillow near her, then up at L again.  "Is it weird to say I wish you could have met her?""I wish I could have, too." L grins sadly. “Would you… tell me about her?”Astraea looks up and pats the bed near to her. L edges a little closer, settling down by the other pillow. Whatever the mattress is made of, she sinks right into it. "Only if that's alright, though. Y-you don't have to.""Well, she wasn't as apologetic as you are."  Astraea says, smiling wryly. She taps one of the leaves of her mask. "Maybe you should be wearing this."  "E-excuse me?" L huffs, crossing her arms. "I don’t think I get a choice out there."Astraea goes quiet. "... I could just keep you in here, all to myself. Some dryads do that with their nymphs. You’d be safe. You wouldn't have to wear anything you didn't want to."L sits up, looking warily at her. The dryad’s face is completely unreadable. The back of her neck tingles."Astraea… " She starts, a hint of nerves in her voice.   But Astraea sticks out her tongue, then flips onto her stomach, her legs swinging lazily back and forth.“I know, I know.  Lyra wasn't a homebody either. I could have spent all my time reading and being domestic with her. The two of us in here, that was when we could each be most ourselves. But she was so curious, always with that serious expression on her face."  Astraea reaches up, poking L in the cheek.  "Like she was about to bite you. She wanted to know everything. Try things. Sneak into places she wasn't supposed to. She tried to make friends with the other nymphs, but she wasn't very good at it. Wild nymphs play differently than the domesticated ones do.""Oh."  L says thoughtfully.  “So that's why...”“The other nymphs afraid of you?”  Astraea asks, smiling apologetically. L laughs.  “Well, it’s nice to know Lyra wasn’t actually attacking them.”She rolls over on top of the covers, looking up at the ceiling. The way the rafters have been fashioned makes it seem as if it’s shot through with roots. "What did she want to do once you two escaped to Annwyn?""What did we want to do?”  Astraea’s eyes light up.  “We wanted to see, and do, and be, everything we could! Try different food, live a different life. Go to another world, I mean... can you imagine?""You know..." L raises an eyebrow, gesturing around the room. "...I think I can." It takes a moment for Astraea to catch her meaning. A sharp little giggle bursts out of her before she can catch it. “Oh…! OH!”  Then she laughs, and once she starts, she can’t stop. Astraea grips the pillow, gasping for breath, all the tension and sadness pouring out of her in gales of laughter. And all of a sudden, she’s there again. The same Astraea L saw, smiling in the Market. Picking herself up from the street after the fight with Cadogan. Looking worriedly into the cage she’d put her in.Offering her a Song. Astraea’s giggles finally die away, and she yawns, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “We wanted to be a family.  To live a quiet life.”It’s hard not to catch the dryad’s clear exhaustion. L wriggles under the covers, and a second later Neith II hops onto the bed and curls on the covers near to them.“Sometimes trouble finds you even when you’re not looking for it though, doesn’t it.”  L says.Astraea quietly strokes the alp-luachra’s back, nodding.  "Trouble is fine.   We've always been finding trouble.  Ever since the start."  She looks up, smiling sleepily.  “I’m glad you’re here L. I’m glad we’re facing this together.”“I am too Astraea.”  L brushes aside some of her hair.  “Now get some rest.”She nods, her eyes already fluttering. L watches her as she drifts, her breathing deepening, until she’s sure that Astraea’s fallen completely asleep. Her gaze goes to the walls, tracing the glittering patterns of the vines. This was never going to be as simple as she'd wanted it, but...well.There’s something here. She knows now, if she can just find where whatever happened, happened, that she’ll recognize it. Maybe she can make a list of all of Lyra's favourite haunts. She could visit them one by one. Or maybe she's thinking about this the wrong way; what if what she's looking for is outside the city? It's worth considering. Or maybe...Neith II grumbles and wriggles onto L's stomach, coiling up like a wet noodle. She smirks and gives the creature a quick tap on the head, listening to Astraea's soft breathing.L watches her, and thinks about who Lyra used to be. That reaction to the bed, to the kitchen, to Astraea. Those weren’t just Lyra’s feelings. Those were her feelings too.  They are still her feelings now. She can’t shake the realisation. It’s hard not to think of herself as a Lyra-flavoured Lloyd.  Lloyd with a little Lyra inside her. Two distinct personalities occupying one body.But there was a time when she asked Astraea…If she were separated into Lloyd and Lyra, which would she be?And for the first time in a long while, she doesn’t know the answer.continue reading ->There’s worse places to sort through big thoughts than a comfortable bed in a luxury art nouveau-themed fairy suite, I say. No idea why L’s having so much trouble with it. Maybe she’s just hungry? No one likes an empty kitchen after a trip. In all seriousness, it’s good to be able to give these two a frank, feelsy discussion without any immediate danger bearing down on them. We wanted to make sure this one felt just right. Please join us next time on Friday, August 16th for Chapter 14, in which L tries for a little bit of progress - professional, social, and deductional! Let’s hope she can hit all the right notes…And as usual, leave a comment with any illustration suggestions for Heart! She'll be taking next week to get an editing buffer, but then we'll be back to the illustration vote the week after!- Hark