Imago Ch14: Finding Her Voice (Patreon)

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 L wakes slowly. It’s a long, blissfully timeless moment from stirring to sitting up and looking around the cool, luxurious bedchamber. She’s in bed, and alone. Even Neith II is gone. Beyond the window, the city of Xylia is bathed in a warm, golden glow. It takes her a further moment to re-orient herself, remembering where she is, mentally walking through the day before.Something prickles at her antennae, helping her along. Familiar odours - oil, heated metal, fragrant steam…L smirks. No wonder the little monster’s abandoned her. She climbs out of bed, doing her best to straighten her dress as she follows the scent to the kitchen.  Astraea’s already dressed, complete with a loosely-tied apron, and she’s busying herself over the hearth. She’s leaning over a rattling copper pot, breathing in the steam leaking out from under the lid. Neith II peers down from the safety of the mantlepiece, excitedly scuttling back and forth in anticipation. "Bribing my precious Niffles now, are we?" L asks, grinning sleepily and rubbing at her eyes."L…! You’re up!” Astraea waves her over to the hardwood counter. “How’d you sleep?"  "Out like a light. You?” "I slept alright. Sit, sit!”  L does as she’s told.  "How long was I out?" Astraea looks out the window. The waxing half moon has rotated to the top of the clock face.  "Nearly to the first equinox.""Is that...late?""It was typical for Lyra.” Astraea smiles.  “It's fine that it's typical for you, too."L leans forward, taking an appreciative whiff of whatever's in the pot. “It smells amazing. Can I help?”“It's almost ready! Let me just..."Astraea opens the lid and a large plume of steam engulfs her. She coughs and waves away with a laugh. L breathes in the savoury aroma, half-out of her seat to better breathe it in. “Sorry for leaving breakfast to you." She says awkwardly. "Not at all! I always liked cooking for Lyra." Astraea says.  "Even if it was another secret to keep."She pulls two luminescent mushrooms from the pot, arranges them neatly on a plate, then reaches back in with both hands to retrieve an enormous pillbug. The dryad places it on the counter, snaps off the head and legs, and tosses them into the fire. "Would you like to crack it?"  Astraea offers, sliding it over to L."...crack it?” L asks, half-fascinated, half-horrified.  “Like an egg?""You crack eggs?""Well… yeah!  What have you been doing with them?" "Well, we use them for garnish.”  Astraea slides open a drawer with a blast of cold air, plucking out a frost-traced bottle and waving it. Something orange and spherical wobbles around inside. “Would you like some?"L leans closer, examining the eggs. Whatever laid them certainly wasn't a chicken.  "You know what? Yeah. Why not.”Astraea pours happily, decanting half a dozen jiggling neon globs next to the mushrooms. “Now, back to the scumbler! All you have to do is twist. Like this- "  She waves her arms with gusto,  miming a snapping motion.  L picks the steaming crustacean up with both hands, duplicating the gesture. It takes surprisingly little pressure for the shell to crack. She leans closer, her antennae drinking in the delicate flavour - and twitches aside, lifting her breakfast out of harm’s reach just as Neith II makes a lunge.“Oi! I haven't forgotten about you, stowaway. You're supposed to be back with Ian! He's probably worried sick."  The alp-luachra gurgles and chirps mournfully, blinking up at her. L shoos her off the counter with a wing.  “Be good, and maybe I’ll let you pick it clean.”Neith II slithers to the floor, eyeing L sulkily as she takes a nibble. Then a bite. Then pops the whole thing in her mouth."Thish ish delicioush!" She says, excitedly tucking in. Astraea settles down with her elbows on the counter, watching L eat. It doesn't take long for her to finish. She’s hungrier than she thought, and it’s not until the end of the meal that she realises she’s probably done a fairly good impression of Lyra's table manners."Oh - s-sorry - ""Don't be."  Astraea waves.“But what about you?”"Oh, I already soaked in my aetherspring."L blinks at her. “...is that…food? I know I’ve seen you eat.” Astraea giggles. "I can eat things. It’s just considered a little frivolous.”L nods, setting her plate down and letting Neith II leap headfirst into the shell. She listens to the   busy crunching noises before looking back up. "So what's our plan for today?""Well, Evander and Octavia are very committed to your reacclimation. So, whenever you’re ready, I'll be escorting you to the Rookery."“That… might be convenient, actually. The nymphs seem happy to talk to me. Maybe I can learn something."  “That’s a good idea.”  Astraea nods.  “Like an… undercover investigation.”“Exactly.”  L says, her antennae wavering.  “And you can work the other side of it. See which dryads are shaken to see us back. Pay attention. Watch for anyone acting suspicious.”Astraea’s eyes sparkle, and she leans forward.  "Like detectives? Like... like..."  She snaps her fingers.  "Sherlock Holmes?""...oh. Yes!” L smiles. “Just like Sherlock Holmes. It's why we're here, innit? To be detectives." “Are you Watson or am I?”“You can be Sherlock.” L laughs as Astraea beams in delight.  "I didn’t know you liked detective stories.""Oh, I like many humantales! All kinds! I-”  Astraea stops suddenly, the light in her eyes kindling as she leaps to her feet.  "OH!  I CAN SHOW YOU MY - !"  And just like that, she takes off running, disappearing down the hall. L grins and shakes her head, getting up to see what her excitement is about.  "Humantales… huh?" Astraea’s waiting in front of a wall made up of twisted gnarls of bark. As L approaches, Astraea puts a finger to her lips and winks. Her hands glow softly, and the knot pulls open to reveal a small hollow. Within is a pantry-sized room piled high with books and knick knacks, jam-packed but carefully organised."Contraband.” Astraea grins, gesturing her inside. L takes the closest book from the shelf, turning it over for a better look. Her cheeks darken immediately as she recognises the familiar glossy font and embracing figures on the cover of 'The Prisoner of Desire'. "Contraband." L nods, swallowing. Astraea hardly seems to notice her hesitation. She’s already waving n egg-shaped device made of bright pink plastic. "What’s this for?"L’s eyes light up.  “I haven't seen one of those in ages! It's like...a pretend pet you take care of."  She taps at the buttons. The screen does absolutely nothing, but Astraea stares at her in wonder anyway. "Is the whole thing the pet?"  She asks, turning the device over reverently. "Have I been taking care of it? I don’t know what it wants. There doesn't seem to be a way to feed it.""I'm pretty sure the batteries are dead.” L says. “Bring it with you when we go back to the Market and we can fix it for you."Astraea nods and places the toy back in its box, giving the casing a gentle caress. L stifles a laugh and turns back to the collection. It’s a surprising mix - equal parts classic lit, romance novels, highschool textbooks, treatises, poetry and children’s stories. They’re arranged in little groups of like and like, but that seems to be her only filing system. Beyond books, Astraea’s collection of oddments extends to a rotary phone, meticulously arranged stuffed animals, a tangle of rosaries, a collection of pressed flowers, a photo album from the fifties, and a dishwasher manual."How did you get all this?"  L asks, flipping through the pages of the manual. Astraea’s light abruptly dims.  “I was… entrusted with it.”  She starts, fretting with the hem of her apron.  “...you can’t tell anyone else.  It could be very dangerous.”"I understand." L nods, lowering the dog-eared pamphlet.Astraea hesitates, and when she speaks again, it’s barely above a whisper.  "Fili, mostly. She shared all this with me. Taught me about humans.""Fili?" L raises an eyebrow. It's hard to imagine the willowy dryad leafing through it. "Really?"Astraea nods quickly. “Why?”“Well…”  Astraea starts.  "Some of the elders are… dissatisfied with the way things are. I’m sure you’ve heard.  The humanists. The ones who believe human society has things to teach us. Fili is one of their key members.”"Huh." L pushes the booklet aside entirely. That cold look Fili had given L when they first met. Her complete dismissal of her. It was strange to think of Fili as a champion of humanist ideals. "So… you two trust each other with a lot, then.""It’s more accurate to say that she trusts… me… with a lot.  I’ve little to offer her. I’m only a sapling, after all. Sometimes I wonder why she takes an interest. None of the others do."“Maybe she sees herself in you."Astraea gives a dismissive laugh, waving her hand.  "She’s of the Secondborn of Xylia. Outside of her generation, her influence and status is only eclipsed by that of Brother Evander. I appreciate you trying to be kind, but when it comes to me and Filandra, there is...no comparison.""Yeah… well..." L pokes Astraea with an antennae. "She isn't a Sherlock Holmes, is she."A little smile tugs at the side of Astraea’s mouth, and she plucks up the manual, reverently placing it back in its place. "That's true, my good Watson.” She steps back out of the hideaway, L following her. The wall closes behind them, sealing up as if the secret hollow had never been. "I'll clean up breakfast." L offers. “Do you have anything to get ready for?”"I'm slated for cleansings all this week on Evander's orders, while you're at the Rookery.”  Astraea offers her eyes flickering moodily.  “But tonight we’ll have time to consider clues.  We have a mystery to solve, after all!”She hesitates."... um... this might be rude to say... but..."  She tugs on L's wing.   "You should get in the habit of cleaning these. I noticed you never did in Annwyn, but most nymphs wash daily.""I didn't know." L pulls them back, her cheeks darkening. “You don’t have like… fae deodorant, do you?”Astraea stares at her, then bursts into laughter, almost doubling over. "Oh, L, you are so funny sometimes!"“What about a basin?" L mutters, wondering if self-consciousness ever turned fatal. Astraea fights back her fit of the giggles, feebly waving a hand. "N-no! No basin!  You...you know. You clean them!""Oh…! Right!" L winces, sticking out her tongue and pointing. Astraea nods, and L sighs in defeat.  "There's so much to get used to.""Is it really so strange? Nymphs do this all the time."“Well...humans, erm. Don't.”  L shrugs helplessly. "I’ll make it part of my routine.  But first… dishes."  "Remember to be nice to the other nymphs. They'll have a meal at high solstice, and I'll be here to retrieve you at the falling equinox, right? You should be able to see the Clock of Xylia from the canopies."  Astraea says. She's dressed in a simple black dress and adorned with copper ear ornaments, her hair done up in braids. L’s wearing the uniform they gave her the day before: a white harem outfit, copper bracelets and anklets, and of course her glamour. Her wings trail a little behind as they walk the path to the Rookery, lustrous and shimmering in the cool air.She will never stop tasting chalk. “They really want you doing cleansings for a whole week?"  L toys with one of her bracelets, darting a look to the side.  "Are you going to be okay?  “Why wouldn’t I be?” Astraea smiles. "We'll do some detecting tonight, Watson."As they approach the Rookery, one of the spriggan guards at the door steps forward to collect L.  Astraea gives her a little wave and turns away, walking toward the Great Tree towering over them all. L frowns anxiously, her wings lifting as she’s ushered inside. Astraea’s not a very good liar. "Lyra?"  L jolts. It’s Cordelia, waiting just inside the door. For all L knows, she could have been there all morning. "It’s good to see you! I wanted us to meet first thing. Octavia says that you are to be my special friend as you acclimate!"L stands up a bit straighter. "There is more to show me?""Yes! I will be guiding you through our daily routines.” Cordelia explains.  “The Rookery nymphs have just finished morning ablutions, so now it is time for our training.""What kind of training?"  L’s eyes narrow.  "Oh, well, it can be many things, truthfully."  Cordelia says, leading L down the grand hallway. "But with the Gleaning coming, that is our current focus. Those who have not been placed will be receiving conjugal preparation, but as you are already placed with Lady Astraea, you will be joining us in the Chorus!"L doesn’t want to think too much about what conjugal preparation entails, but the Chorus doesn’t sound so bad.  That won't be so bad. It's her literal job, after all, and it should be even easier if she's going to be in a group. She hurries a little, matching Cordelia's pace."And you'll be there?"Cordelia flicks her wings, putting a little hop in her step to stay ahead. "Yes, of course!  You and I, we are choral nymphs. That is our gift from the Wilds.” She sings a low, chiming note, holding it until the metal in their garments rattles like a tuning fork. L smiles wistfully, listening to the hum. She can feel something behind her eyes responding to the note."We did this before, then." L clears her throat. "I sang with others?"Cordelia buzzes nervously. "... well…not exactly.""What does that mean?""We did hear you sing!"  She blurts out, fidgeting apologetically. "Just… not with us. You used to sing for Lady Astraea quite often."“But not with you.”  L shuffles, a little embarrassed at the disappointment in Cordelia’s voice.“N-no. Not with us.”L nods, mulling it over.  If she took one thing away from her bath, it's that the Glade nymphs enjoyed gossip. If Lyra had a rival, an enemy, someone just displeased to see her back... that would be a clue, wouldn't it?“And no one was…angry?""W-what?” Cordelia nearly trips, turning her head to give L a confused stare. “No! No, of course not!  A little hurt, but not angry. Nymphs do not get angry."L raises an eyebrow. "Do I not get angry?"“You…act above your station.”  Cordelia gives her a furtive glance, then quickens her pace.  "Aetherfather says...!"  She struggles to lower her voice, her wings humming in agitation. "... Aetherfather says that anger was not something he gifted to us nymphs. It is not appropriate for us to express it.”“I see.” L says. She doesn’t. Cordelia’s expression softens.   “It just… it made many of us uncomfortable.  We just want to sing with our kind.”  She reaches over, lightly touching L’s arm. “Don't you... feel the same?"L taps Cordelia’s hand lightly with her talon.  “... I do now.”The bee-nymph’s anxiety subsides, drifting back behind her quiet congeniality. She takes L’s hand, leading her down the hallway. The corridor junction seems as popular of a hangout spot as ever, with a few different male nymphs watching as they pass. This time, L gives a challenging flick of her wings to the closest one, meeting his gaze. He spreads a set of cracked-glass dragonfly wings in return, giving her a sideways smile and a questioning trill. "It is not Fertility Spring, Troilus."  Cordelia says firmly, taking L by the hand and leading her the other direction."Not yet!" He calls after them, getting a round of cheerful laughter from his friends. L’s eyes widen and she walks faster, outpacing Cordelia. "That is not what I was signalling." She sputters."It isn’t you."  Cordelia explains, hurrying along next to her. “Troilus is always like this. He knows he would need your dryad's permission, and Lady Astraea has made it clear she does not intend to breed you.""Oh."  L mumbles, wondering when that conversation had come up.  "G-good."Cordelia takes a different route when she reaches the living quarters, instead bringing L to a large amphitheatre. It’s filled with soft, half-murmured chatter and the rustle of fabric. Octavia stands behind a podium at the front, with what must be nearly a hundred nymphs lined up in the rows before her. At a nod from the Attendant, Cordelia leads her straight to the front row. "Not the back?" L asks, a little grim humour in her tone. It's not like it really matters. She's been under a literal spotlight for months now. Sure, it's a little different, but the stakes are really more of a...lateral move than anything else. All she needs is her song to-L looks down, her hand gripping her copper bracelet.Her perfectly ordinary, unenchanted copper bracelet.Shit.Cordelia turns, her antennae twitching quizzically.   "Lyra?""Lyra? Cordelia?  Please take your place."  Octavia's voice rings out loud, clear, and commanding. L doesn’t move, though. That half-forgotten gut-wrenching feeling from her first interview with Hedrick crashes back over her, garbling her thoughts and setting her heart jackhammering in her chest.She can’t think.She can barely move."...just...a moment." Cordelia says, awkwardly guiding L to her spot in the row.Cold sweat trickles down L’s back. They’re staring at her, she’s aware of it, but the urge to respond is buried beneath layer after layer of half-identifiable dread. Some unarticulated threat to her life. The fear of imminent discovery. The need to survive. Months of memories and sensations swirling together as time simply dissolves away. She has to find it, to perform, to do something or they’ll know, they’ll throw her out, but she can hardly remember what she needs to do. She can’t remember how she got here. Trying to think back gives her nothing but static.  Octavia is staring right at her.No response. She can’t respond. The Attendant taps her baton against her claw in three quick snaps, and the room goes dead silent."Alright, ladies. Before we begin, we have to place our newest member. Lyra, are you capable of performing a basic scale?" L twitches. She's only half-heard the question, but she can feel the chorus’ attention solidifying around her, as if the air itself is thickening, time guttering forward again."What?" She croaks out."A scale.” Octavia says. “Tetrachord, Lyra.  In whatever range feels most comfortable.""...I..."  L's wings open, eyespots flashing. She swallows. Her mouth is dry. It’s all she can say, and the longer the silence drags on the more impossible it is to speak."Lyra."  Octavia repeats, a little less patiently. "Perform a tetrachord. I will not ask again.""I…!"  It’s the only word she seems capable of speaking, cracking like a broken branch.  And then, finally, "…I can't.”Dead silence, enough to hear a pin drop. Octavia stands a little taller, peering down at L. A murmuring ripples through the crowd as L wishes the building would split open and swallow her. “I am told you were a performer in Annwyn.”  Octavia waves an arm, silencing the ripple.  "If you have forgotten so much that you cannot sing even a single note, then how did you succeed as a performer?""...I used Songs." L croaks. The Attendant gives a sharp nod."Ah. So, artifice.""Yes.” L rasps, the corners of her eyes stinging."And?”L just stares at her, completely lost. Octavia stares back, her gaze clear and unchanging. No sympathy. No judgement.  Only unflinching pragmatism."Annwyn is a difficult place.” She says. “But you forget, Lyra. You are not in Annwyn. And I did not ask you to sing well. I merely commanded you to sing."Octavia raises her baton.“Now… if we are quite done with what you can’t do, let us see what you can.”L breathes in, a little unsteadily. It's...what she'd been trying to do anyway. To learn on her own. To sing on her own. To be herself. And if the expectation of excellence isn't there, if she doesn’t need to convince anyone to keep herself alive, to win anyone’s favour, to be or feel or do what someone else needs her to feel or think or do…She thinks of the videos. The scales she’s been practising.  Ian’s gentle encouragement.Lowering her wings, L closes her eyes.  Breathes in.  And releases a low, wavering note, fluttering in the air for a moment before disappearing, ephemeral as an autumn frost.   Silence.  Then a second voice. Cordelia echoing her note, holding it perfectly before letting it fade.  She looks to L, giving her an encouraging nudge, and they both sing it together. Behind them, others start to take up the pitch, trying it out. Then others, rippling out  as they join, one after another, until the entire chorus is singing.Sustaining her note.Octavia smiles."Good. Now."  She raises her hand, and the rest of the chorus sings one note higher. L's voice follows, a half-second behind.The Attendant nods along, leading them one note after the next. Some voices drop out as the tetrachord climbs, the singers exhausting their range. L stays with them for as long as she can, her voice growing closer and closer to the rest of the chorus as she settles in. By the time she's forced to fall silent, breathing hard and a little dizzy, she's indistinguishable from the rest.Finally, the Attendant silences the chorus with a gesture. "You will remain in Cordelia's section, Lyra. We have much work ahead of us.  But..."  Octavia softens as L looks up in apprehension.  "It is good to have you with us.""Thank you." L squeaks, then covers her mouth again. A few nymphs giggle around her, and Cordelia gives her a secret smile."I knew you were one of us."  She whispers.L’s integration into the chorus seems to stretch out forever, and yet the time flies by. The groups split off, and she’s coached with the other beginners as the more advanced practise their solos. Thankfully, Cordelia’s there to tutor her, and the other nymphs are happy to welcome her into their ranks. Two of them in particular attach themselves to her - Cordelia’s friend Thisbe, and a quiet butterfly named Desdemona. The name feels familiar, and after a little thought L realises she was the subject of Thisbe’s gossip during her stint in the baths.The clock strikes high solstice, and the chorus breaks for a meal of glowing vegetables and deeply crunchy portions of starchy roots served on wide ceramic platters. L barely has time to eat at first as she’s peppered with questions, but eventually they turn to different subjects. It all goes over her head - which nymphs are arguing or which nymphs have become friends or preparations for this Gleaning ritual she keeps hearing about - but she tries to keep up as best she can.It’s interesting to watch them go back and forth, in any case. Thisbe's garrulous energy should completely overwhelm Desdemona's reserve, but the butterfly has a way of inserting cutting observations that seem to delight the others. Even with her limited window, L finds herself laughing along. By the end of it, she's surprised to realise just how much she's enjoyed the meal."We do this every day?" She asks Thisbe."Not EVERY day. But from here until the Gleaning? Oh yeah. Especially now that we have some dead weight to polish."  The nymph adds, clapping L on the back."What do you mean?” L keeps her expression carefully still. “I thought you sang fine."The counter catches Thisbe completely off-guard.  "Why, you cheeky little moth!"  She sputters, "I ought to Glean you myself at the festival." Cordelia’s struggling not to choke on a glowing turnip as she fights down a giggle fit. Desdemona, on the other hand, has gone quiet. It's hard to read her expression, but she's staring at L like she’s trying to memorise her face.L hesitates, then decides to bring her in on the joke. Maybe she’s just lost in thought.  "Desdemona, what do you think?"Desdemona considers the piece of honeycomb she's been chewing on.  "... I would not know.  You sound the same to me." She says, finally, and takes another waxy bite."Dez!” Thisbe pouts. “But you know I’ve been practising!” L taps a talon against the table. She's gotten more comfortable with the Lyra act, which she has to admit is even a little...fun.  "It's a chorus. We should sound the same."  L turns to stare at Thisbe again. "So… good work."Thisbe struggles for a moment, then finally breaks out in a rueful chuckle, ruffling L's hair."You’re both working very hard." Cordelia chirps. "I am sure your dryads are very proud!""You said you relied on Songs?"  Desdemona breaks in, leaning closer to L. "Artifice?"L shifts, her wings rustling uncomfortably."...yes.” “Why?”“...It was necessary.""Necessary for what?"L laces her fingers together, looking carefully at Desdemona. Is she just curious? Or something more?  "It’s as the Attendant says. The Market is...difficult to survive in.""But you are of the Wilds. Is the Market more dangerous?" Desdemona’s stare is so intense it almost burns. "Differently."  L refuses to blink, but Desdemona’s eyes flutter as she mulls the thought over. All at once, her focus snaps back to L’s face. "In what ways do you please Lady Astraea with your body?"“E-excuse me?!”  L squeaks. There’s no change in Desdemona’s expression.  L has to blink at her for several seconds before she realises the others are also waiting on her answer."We… I… am not supposed to talk about it." She stammers, slowly regaining her composure. It's the sort of question she really needs to prepare for. "Lady Astraea is private."“But-”“Lyra is right, Desdemona.”  Cordelia nods approvingly. "We should be considerate of the whims of our broodmate's dryads."Desdemona’s wings shiver, and she nibbles at her knuckle.  "B-but…what about Lord Helios' wishes?"That raises L’s antennae. Lord Helios is Desdemona’s dryad, if the bathtime chatter had been accurate. But why would he be asking about her? Is he just curious about something new turning up at court?  Or something… else?"Does Lord Helios want you to talk to me?"Desdemona’s intensity radiates fiercely from her dark eyes.  "No?"L stares back, her neck tingling. What is going on with this nymph?  "Then what are his wishes?" "He just-"  Desdemona blurts out, then goes quiet, staring down at her honeycomb. "Did Lord Helios ask you to do something, Dez?"  Thisbe asks curiously.  "He didn't mention anything to me.""Why are you back?" Desdemona asks, directing her question at the honeycomb more than L."...because Lady Astraea came to find me." L says, then shifts a little closer. "Are you upset?  I've been told I was upsetting.""But you don't remember."  Desdemona says,  a certain finality in her words, as if she’s drawn a conclusion. There’s something unsettling about that.  L isn’t the only one playing detective."That was in the past.  She sings with us now, Dez." Cordelia says soothingly. "Right, Lyra?"L nods."Well enough that you can't pick me out from Thisbe.""I'm unconvinced."  Thisbe mutters."I can’t help with that. Take it up with Dez.” L shrugs. “And if she won't tell me what Lord Helios wants, I can't help her. He can tell me himself if it's a problem."Something chimes in the distance, and Cordelia and Thisbe pick up their platters. The firefly nymph smirks."Speaking of, we need to get back to practise, offworlder.""I only visited." L mutters. It's a little unnerving, hearing that. Like Thisbe knows.  She gets to her feet, carefully brushing a crumb from her cheek.Desdemona hesitates, watching the others turn away. Thisbe flashes her glow again. "You comin', lil flutterfly?"  Desdemona bites down on the last of her honeycomb, sharp teeth glistening as they sink into the wax, and joins them.The Rookery’s bustle slows as the great clock finally circles to the evening equinox. About half of the nymphs in the women's quarters go up to their nests to settle in, but the rest - those already attached to dryads - move to the entry hall. Some are collected and marched away by guards, but others are met in person by their dryad Keepers. Cordelia’s one of the first to go, waving farewell as she’s lifted into the branches of a stout-looking maple with a heavy mossy beard. But in all the commotion, there’s no sign of Astraea."Hope the...cleansing wasn't too hard." L worries under her breath, remembering how shaken Astraea was last time.  But at the very least she’ll have something to offer her, a clue for her Sherlock."Lyra?" A familiar voice calls. L turns as Desdemona makes her way through the thinning crowd, Thisbe humming through the air behind her. They’re each wearing golden manacles on all four wrists, linked by jingling chains running from arm to arm. Desdemona still has that same wide-open expression. L does her best to ignore the way the butterfly is staring. Whatever her problem is, it's starting to make her anxious.Dez bows low. "Lord Helios accepts your request for an audience with him."L's face goes blank."My what?""You said if I could not tell you what Helios desires, that He should speak with you directly."  She blinks. "Did you not?"Oh. OH."I...did." L says. She hadn’t intended it, but…this could be an opportunity. There’s something Desdemona isn't telling her, and maybe this is the inroad she needs. She nods decisively.  "Yes. I did. You surprised me. That's all."Desdemona smiles in relief, offering her hand. L takes it as Thisbe moves to her other side, the two of them moving her out of the walkway.  "Did he tell you why?" L asks Thisbe, keeping step. The other nymph shrugs, rapping briskly at a panel in the wall. It swings open, exposing a recessed cupboard lined with storage hooks. Each is fitted with chains, ornate masks, and other glittering implements. L starts to take a step back, but Desdemona still has a firm grip on her. "Your guess is as good as mine." Thisbe says, picking out a set of golden manacles identical to her own. The nymph snaps them over L’s wrists before she can react. "His missive said to do whatever Dez requested."  “W...wait." L twitches, tugging against the weight. They're...clearly something ceremonial, from the way these two are wearing them. She saw plenty of things like this in the Market store. No one’s acting like anything is out of place. Even so, none of this is reassuring."He isn't here? Where are we going? What if Lady Astraea - ""Lady Astraea will be informed at the appropriate time."  Desdemona says, plucking out a length of silvery cloth. She wraps it over L’s eyes, securing the blindfold in the back, and the world goes dark. "I-I should discuss this with her." L says, speaking a little faster, using the hands on her shoulders to make sure she's facing the correct direction. Her arms jolt again, rattling the chains. "Lady Astraea is - anxious about where I go. If I’m going someplace she needs to know."Something is slid over her head, heavy and metallic, pinning the blindfold in place and shutting out the sounds around her.  Weight. Pressure. A veil drops around her, even as the mask’s frame tightens around her face. Anxiety starts to kindle into panic. Somewhere distant, she can hear Desdemona's voice, still the same toneless statement."Lady Astraea will be informed at the appropriate time.""That's now!" L yelps. How can they be so calm about this? Her own voice sounds muffled, fighting through padded metal to reach her ears. The chains on her manacles pull taut, forcing her hands together. "The appropriate time is now!""Lady Astraea will be informed at the appropriate time."  Desdemona repeats for a third time. Someone tugs at the mask, flipping a switch. The mechanism shudders, something extends - And then her voice, like everything else,Is silenced.

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"Lady Astraea will be informed at the appropriate time :)WHICH IS WHEN! WHEN DEZ. WHEN IS THAT?Hey all, Rin here! Thanks so much for reading! Now that L is finally settling in, it's time to start throwing some big curveballs at her. What do you think she has in store for her with this Helios? Be sure to leave a comment with illustration requests! Vote will go up next week so be sure to leave a comment today!And thanks for stopping by (＾▽＾)-Heart