Imago Ch18: The Gleaning (Patreon)

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Astraea's flat is comfortable enough, now that it’s been aired out and warmed again. Compared to the intimidating grandeur of the rest of the city, it’s cosy. But it isn’t home. It isn’t hers. Even now L can't help but feel like an intruder, lying on her stomach with her chin on the arm of a moss-soft couch, staring at the door.She's been waiting for what feels like hours, although she's given up on deciding if that's what the great clock actually shows. When she grows too hungry to ignore her body, she nibbles some crusty bread from the kitchen, but her heart isn't in it. So instead she takes up her vigil on the couch.The book sits behind her, weighty and waiting. No matter how she shifts in her seat, she keeps some contact with it - a hand, a talon, her knee. Absurd as it is, she feels the need to make sure it doesn’t spirit away.This conversation is going to be hard enough, even with the strange book in hand.Without warning, the bolt turns and the handle jangles. L straightens up, her feet falling back to the floor. She slides the book behind her as Astraea bursts in, her face flushed and her eyes red. She stifles a gasp as she sees L. "Where have you been?" L flinches with a sudden pang of guilt at the worry in Astraea’s voice. She opens her mouth, mentally grasping for the explanations she’s been polishing for hours. But now that she needs them, her words have left her. "Astraea, I-" Astraea crosses the room on stiff legs, the door swinging shut behind her. "The Rookery said you never arrived! No one's seen you for HOURS. I thought... Helios... or..."   She clenches her fists.  "Do you have ANY idea how scared I was?" "I know, I didn't mean for you to worry, but I had no way to reach you.  Puck waylaid me.” She brings the book out from behind her back, setting it on her lap. “He took me to the Archive."Astraea stops, frozen in her tracks. Her glow flickers and dims."L, why do you have that?" "Because it's full of memories.”  She looks at it, feeling the weight.  Opens it and riffles through pages. “My memories. Remember? The thing we've been looking for?”"Oh, gods... you stole it."  Astraea covers her mouth.  “The librarian said you'd been in there over and over. And yet you-""Does Bʲen know? Didn't she catch you? Oh Xylia… L, what have you done?" "I've investigated!"  L's on her feet, wings snapping open, sending dust spiralling through the air. She advances on Astraea, forcing her back, looking eye-to-eye as she clutches the book against her chest. "The thing we're supposed to be doing! Remember? Watson and Sherlock? Except they actually got to be detectives. I can’t because I’m a nymph, right?  Everyone knows nymphs need to be put in shackles and walked from place to place and told exactly what to do and say and think every goddamn moment of  every bloody day!”  She thrusts the reliquary into Astraea’s arms. The dryad staggers back, clutching it in shock. “And here I am, stumbling across my first real clue half by accident only to find out you already knew about it!”"L…!”  Astraea stammers, carefully setting the unwieldy book on the couch. “Stealing from the archive has severe consequences. You could have viewed the reliquary and talked to me about it! You didn’t need to steal it." "Then why didn't you tell me in the first place?”  L can hear the plaintive brittleness in her own voice. “We don't have time. And it’s getting obvious that we aren't going to learn anything if we just keep following the bleeding rules! Since when does that matter to you, anyway? Is this better or worse than a crawlspace full of human books- ""L, stop.""No! We're here for a reason!" L's head is throbbing. She digs her nails into her palms. "Didn't Fili teach you that? At least she's doing something - " Astraea's eyes flash and she lunges forward, one hand clamping down over L’s mouth. L flinches, yelping into her palm as she’s forced back against the couch. The dryad stares back, her breathing ragged, holding her gaze for a moment before her attention shifts to the rest of the flat. She releases L and dashes to the balcony doors, peers around intently, and slams them shut. Astraea bolts the lock and pulls the curtains before turning back to her. "Someone could have been listening." She hisses.L lowers her voice. "We're wasting time. We need to be doing more.""... I know."  Astraea closes her eyes.  "... I know. But beyond the grove’s normal restrictions on us, we’re under a spotlight right now.  The humanists... beyond Fili and I, are nearly a third of the Grove. Our numbers are growing, but Helios and others like him are looking for any reason to come after us."  She sighs.  "... but... that's not our fight, is it?” L interjects. “We're just looking for answers, and then a way back home." Astraea sits down gingerly on the far side of the couch, not making eye contact.  The reliquary resting between them.  L watches her quietly.   “You… did know. Didn’t you.  About the damaged reliquary.” Astraea nods hesitantly.  L sighs, shifting closer to the little dryad. “Astraea, you really should have said something.""What was there to say?  I looked through it hundreds of times. It was a dead end.”“... you don’t think knowing Lyra’s memories had been magically destroyed was something that would be useful to know?”Astraea shifts guiltily.  “Well…”She’s still hiding something.   Still holding back.  L twitches her antennae.  "You get what the stakes are, right?” “Yes.”“They're going to kill Ian if we don't come back - ""I haven't forgotten." Astraea’s face tightens." - and Neith.""I know, L."Astraea turns her back to L. L quashes a flash of irritation. Maybe it’s time to do a little more investigating. Just… a little push."Then why hide this?"   She says, placing her hand on the book.The silence draws out, but that’s a game that L is good at.  All she has to do is settle in and wait.   If there’s anything she knows about Astraea, it’s that she wants to do right by her.  All she has to do is let the guilt settle in.Finally, Astraea stirs. She looks away, speaking to the far wall. “Because they weren't your memories. They were Lyra’s memories.  Our… memories.”Astraea settles her hand on the book without looking. “...you’ve shared plenty of memories.”  L says, questioningly, quirking an antennae. Astraea smiles bashfully down at her knees.  “Well, yes. But not all. Some are…private.”  Her face goes scarlet. “Although now I suppose you’ve seen.”L can feel her heart pick up as her own cheeks heat.  She had skipped over the more explicit parts, but she’d gotten the gist of them. Bodies coiled around one another. Holding Astraea down. Biting her all over. Her crying out with passion. A passion that both was, and wasn’t, hers.L carefully flips the book over onto its back. She traces the thin lines of mould and rot seeping through the binding, blooming on the back cover like malignant flowers. "Wilds magic..."  Astraea says, quietly. “Nothing you or I know about, right?” Astraea shakes her head.   L flips through the damaged pages again, ghosts of what might have once been memories squirming before her eyes and fading away before they can coalesce. A pang of despair grips her.  Maybe coming here had been a mistake, after all. What did she really think she was going to learn?  Why had she come, really?  The call of the Wilds? Chasing down a predator before the predator could chase her down first?No.Something deeper than that.A desire to know who she’d been.  Why she was here.The hope of learning where she’s going. L gives a short, choppy laugh. "Can't say I recommend a destination existential crisis. Turns out it's a lot of bother."Astraea gently takes the book from her, settling closer to L. Shoulder to shoulder, dark against light.  L can feel the warmth of her touch, skin to skin, fragments of borrowed memories reddening her cheeks. A touch that some part of her had experienced before.A touch that some part of her might experience again.The thought is intrusive, confusing, but not entirely unwelcome. And broken by Astraea’s voice. "You think leaving your home to find yourself was a mistake?”L offers a half smile and a shrug. “Do you think it’s working out so far?”“Give it time.”  Astraea says, finger to chin, looking up in thought. “The Market really worked out for me." L stares at her incredulously. Astraea refuses to meet her eyes, instead holding her pose, remaining as earnest as she can, before breaking into a mischievous grin.  "... did I do it? Did I make a sarcasm?"L smiles back, despite herself. Astraea and her little victories.  "You got the emphasis in the right place and everything." Astraea claps happily and settles back in. L lowers her wings, draping them around them both. "...do you think we can do this?""We're nearly halfway through, barely a lead, loads of trouble, not even sure if we can get back. So I'd say we are at least consistent." Astraea rests her hand over the reliquary. "I...don't know. But let's give it until the Gleaning. if we still have nothing by then... we drop the investigation and focus on getting you back."L nods, slowly. It wouldn't be giving up, really. Just finding their footing again. She prods Astraea in the ribs. "Getting us both back."Astraea stares at her, a little surprised.  "You want me to return with you?" "Well, yeah." L flicks an antennae at her. "The King on your heels and a shark after your life and you still seemed happier there."Astraea bursts into laughter, something easing inside her. L feels her wings relaxing in response. It’s only the truth.It had been that way for both of them.Time rolls by, at once too slow and too fast. Astraea's schedule is consumed by court functions and brief, clandestine meetings with Fili, none of which bear fruit. On top of that, L's activities are more rigidly enforced since the visit to the archive. In fact Octavia was so displeased with Puck's involvement in her disappearance that even the little satyr wisely makes himself scarce. L has little opportunity to do anything more than practice for the upcoming performance.Even so, it comes faster than she realises. Feeling ill prepared, Astraea did her best to fill her in.A retelling of Xylia’s story.Nymphs file through the streets in careful rows, Attendants at the head of the procession. There are guards, as always, but not as close as usual. Armoured silhouettes waiting just off the road.Practice is nothing like performance. When you’re performing it becomes something different. Lyra described it like speaking with the dark. In the middle of her column, L tries not to trip on the heels of the figure ahead. They've been manacled, of course, and they're wearing fancy dress for nymphs. A garment of spiderwebs and mist - appropriate enough for a fairy-tale, but in reality it's just cold.After the performance comes the Gleaning. Dryads choose new nymphs. The unassigned, or those Kept by someone below them. Lyra's place as consort protected her from people like Helios, but now that that is no longer in effect...Fili will act as our guarantor.They approach a broad staircase, and beyond, a wall of cracked masonry. It's been built around thick-trunked trees growing among the stone, branches and vines clutching the rocks like living mortar. A low light illuminates the space beyond the wooden arches.Once the Gleaning concludes and the festivities get into full swing, we’ll sneak out.Wings rustle. The column of nymphs pass over the threshold and descend into a cellar hall. It’s dim and mildly claustrophobic, thronged by rooted pillars and rows of whispering figures. Despite that, it’s strangely comforting. She can lose herself in the crowd, just another nymph among the others. One small part of a whole. A bright yellow-green glow cuts through the soft half-light, flashing. "Hey, danger moth! Over here!"L hesitates as Thisbe waves a hand above the crowd. She hadn't spoken with her or Desdemona since the incident with Helios. Swallowing her nerves, she picks her way through the crowd. Thisbe’s standing by Cordelia, in the shelter of one of the pillars. L ducks past a stick-insect and joins them. “There she is!” Thisbe flashes a toothy smile. “How do you feel? Big night tonight, are you nervous?"“She’s excelled at practice!” Cordelia chirps. “She’ll be just fine.”L shifts uncomfortably. "Lady Astraea says it's not the same as practice."“Is it not?” Desdemona’s distant voice seems to come from nowhere. L twitches back as the butterfly materialises beside her. "I don't think it's that different from practice." "We know you don’t, Dez."  Thisbe grins, lopsided.Silence descends over their little section of the hall, smothering the mood.  "...how's your hand?" L asks, finally. Dez holds it up, inspecting as if she'd forgotten. It's healed, but a thing pink line remains, marking the occasion."Lord Helios says he wants to replace me. I am to be gifted.""That doesn't sound so bad." L says cautiously. Desdemona nods. "Lord Hephaestus has an aggressive sexual appetite, but has yet to take a knife to me. So perhaps it is equitable.""A-a-anyway!” Thisbe interrupts hurriedly. “I’m not being gifted, and Cordelia belongs to a Gilded One, so she’s staying put.”  She shifts, a hint of excitement in her voice as she turns to L. “What about you, Lyra? Any whispers of you being gleaned?" "Lady Astraea says I am to remain with her." L says, unwilling to give any more than that. She’s saved from having to deflect any further by the lights. They fade one by one, until she can barely see the faces of the others. The hall’s central pillar lights up, aether tracing thin lines just beneath the surface. "Good luck, everyone!"  Cordelia whispers, falling into formation. Desdemona and Thisbe disappear, swept up into a different group, but L steps back to take her place alongside her bee companion. She breathes in slowly. Time to begin.One by one, each section takes a stairwell up to the level above. The next floor is awash in bright white light, enough to make L screw up her eyes as she emerges. Where the lower floor was supported by roots, this one has straight-trunked trees that reach high into the shadows above. They’re arranged in rows along a dry canal, spanned by slim bridges leading to a central, raised island. The nymphs file across and take formation on the platform, watched by a sea of figures in black. Some in their glorified forms, but most remaining in their human-like shapes.All of them watching.The shuffle of movement - footfalls on stone, wings twitching, soft breaths and whispered conversations - all blends together in a muted wave of sound as the last nymphs take their place.Breathe.She's been practising her vocals, though she doubts it will matter;  her voice will be lost in the crowd.In, and out.The lights fade on the rest of the atrium, leaving only the central island illuminated. Silence falls over the hall, stretching on and on, unbearably heavy. It’s broken by a single clear note - the grasshopper, lifting her voice. Then another. And another. And another. Each filling a different note until they comprise a chord.The first chorus joins in, forming a wall of sustained sound. The vibrations tremble through L's body, there and gone as they fall silent. Soloists take up the threads of song. L isn’t a soloist, however.  She’s just a part of the second chorus, there to provide the backdrop. The canvas for others to paint on. She can linger there quite happily, heard but unseen. Right on cue, she moves into the sound with all the others, blending into the eerie melody. Undistinguished. Camouflaged. Along the periphery, the larger nymphs begin to stomp on drums inlaid into the floor, echoing int he cellar below. The earth beating like a heart in the deep.The sound of it r̴e̶v̴e̸r̴b̶e̸r̷a̴t̶e̵s̸  through her. Her wings start to tremble, setting her clothes to swirling, the chains rattling. Her, among all the others. Wrists thumping and bodies shaking, shivering and chiming as one great mass.I̵t̸'̴s̵ ̵g̵e̷t̴t̶i̴n̶g̸ ̶d̵a̶r̵k̵e̵r̶.̵  Something s̵t̸i̷r̵s̵ in her mind, and s̶h̵e̴ ̴c̴a̷n̴ ̶f̸e̶e̶l̸ ̶i̶t̶.̸ ̷ call to her, here, in the heart of Xylia. Spotlights die one by one. Two of the chorus groups have ceased to sing at all - one buzzes its wings rhythmically, the other scrapes their secondary arms together. Insectile chatter fills the air, swallowing up the song in a fever pitch. L thumps her wings in time with the soloists, their ragged voices crying out in the din. The lights go out. Floating will-o-wisps of light swirl around the central dais. T̶h̸e̶ ̵f̴e̵e̷l̵i̴n̴g̸ ̵s̸u̷r̶g̵e̷s̵.̵ ̸ It rushes into her, out of her, t̵h̶r̵o̵u̴g̵h̷ ̷h̷e̸r̶ ̸a̵n̷d̴ ̶b̵e̶y̴o̷nd.L's eyes are dilating. Her skin is clammy with sweat. She feels light-headed, unable to stop moving. She wants to take to the air. T̵o̷ ̷d̴a̶r̴t̷ ̵o̷n̷ ̵s̷i̶l̸e̵n̵t̸ ̸w̸i̵ngs, to sc̷u̸t̶t̴l̸e̷ ̵a̴l̷o̷n̵g̷ ̸b̶ranche̶s̵ ̸a̸nd ̷i̶nt̶o̶ ̴d̶a̷r̸k̶ ̴h̸o̷l̷lows. ̷T̶h̵e̵ ̶D̶a̶r̴k̷n̵e̷s̴s i̷n̴s̸i̶d̶e̶ h̷e̶r̸The four soloists are screaming now, and they’re not alone - it’s spreading like a virus through the entire assembly, howling in the night, catching L up in its claws and hurling her voice into the storm. Their shrieks echo and refract back upon them until all that’s left is a wall of noise and chaos - The blast of aether is so strong it blows her off her feet.A single spotlight at the centre of the island reveals the source.  A young dryad, even younger than Astraea, deerlike in his uncertainty, stands and unfolds into a shaky birch. His branches extend upwards as the light spreads, and as it touches the closest nymphs, they fall silently to their knees. Aether rolls down through the canal, liquid light filling the dry channel. T̵h̸e̴ ̴d̵a̷r̴k̷ ̷i̷s̶ ̸d̸r̸i̶v̶e̶n̴ ̶i̷nto shad̴o̵w̷s̸ and from shadows into nothing. Light spills out all around them, illuminating perfectly spaced rows of kneeling, silent, nymphs.L's hair hangs in her face, her eyes stinging with sweat. Her head is lifted toward the glow, painful in her swollen pupils. Whatever surged through her has receded. Chased back into the crevices of her mind.She stares, mesmerised by the dryad before her. He's all she wants to look at from now until forever. Slowly, he makes his way across the platform, something floral and sweet drifting through the air in his wake. Every nymph in the crowd watches as he halts in front of a willowy young damselfly. The dryad extends a hand, lifting her to her feet. His voice trembling as he speaks. "Y-you. You are the one I choose to Keep.  And I will call you... Melinoe."Raising his hand, he slashes his wrist with a bronze knife. Blood flows, and he presses the cut to his mouth before leaning forward and kissing her. Light flares from her wrist, shining through the skin and coalescing into twisting letters as the glow envelopes them. And the last echoes of the dark are washed away in a wave of dryad applause.L covers her wrist with her hand, struggling to keep her thoughts in order. For one awful moment, she'd been afraid her own wrist would blaze, letters spelling out something very different from Astraea's, but the glamour remains inert. Her antennae tingle with the aftershock of the light and noise, curling and twitching. She wrenches herself back to the moment, struggling to focus on the crowds."A lovely performance." Evander calls out in a booming voice. "What a joy to welcome our youngest as he takes his first Kept, Melinoe. May you both flourish in Xylia's light."The pair bow and curtsy toward his massive form. Evander raises his hands, continuing his speech as they cross over the bridge."Brothers and Sisters of our Grove. At the start of time, we built the foundation of order. In the darkness of death, we lit the path to life. Today, as yesteryear, we renew our commitment to the ways of our people. For stability is our calling. Our roots run deep. Our crowns spread wide. We shield ourselves and those who take refuge in our branches by demanding that we were made for more than chaos.”Evander’s words become a sonorous chant, a long-practised recitation that draws a murmured echo from the other dryads around his feet. "Through hierarchy, peace. In law, purpose. In light, order. And in that order, life. I wish you all a joyous bounty as we remember our true natures during this year's Termina Festival. Celebrate what we have built.  Commit to what we will sustain. We begin the festivities with this year's Gleaning."He gestures to the island of waiting nymphs."...receive the fruits of our labour."Thunderous applause rings out among the dryads as their king takes his seat. A smaller shape squirms out from their ranks, scampering and climbing to the top of a wide-topped pillar - Puck, a heavy scroll tucked in his horns. With an officious little cough, he unrolls it and calls out in a trilling voice. "Gilded Ones, please step forward. Claim what is yours, and receive the first fruits of Xylia."The crowd stirs as the oldest and largest dryads move to the fore, Fili among them. As they do, a solid third of the nymphs on the island march off in ordered lines, crossing over to their Keepers."Good luck."  Cordelia whispers to L as she departs. Thisbe gives a nervous chuckle from behind her, nudging Desdemona in the side.  "Just us, then." "Just us, then."  L repeats, blankfaced, still jangling from the performance. Thisbe starts to say something, but Puck cuts her off;  "Harvest of Xylia, present yourselves."The other nymphs snap into line, each in their rows, splay their wings and kneel. L follows, just a heartbeat behind."House Artemis, you are allotted three nymphs. Step forward and claim what is yours."An oak wades into the crowd, wizened and silver, her leaves fluttering as she moves. Several nymphs have already settled in her branches, watching curiously as she selects three new Kepts. They each stand, fluttering and climbing up to perch on their new dryad as Puck moves down the scroll."House Hesiod, you are allotted four nymphs.""House-"The names blur as L ducks her head. Great shining figures move through the rows, calling out names. Tapping. Grasping. Nymphs rise and follow, or climb their bark, or flap up to settle in their crowns. None object. None are asked.L closes her eyes, fighting the anxious energy. Even with Fili’s protection, kneeling here on the platform feels awful.  She blows out a breath, slowly. Oh so slowly. Focusing on her breathing to escape her thoughts."Desdemona..." L blinks, lifting her eyes. A poplar dryad with heavy arms and mottled skin kneels down to take the butterfly's hand, lifting her to her feet."Lord Hephaestus."  She says, her voice distant as she casts a quick glance to Thisbe. Then to L.  "I shall enjoy our chase tonight."  He says, lifting her into his branches. She doesn't answer, her dark eyes still locked on L.And then she's gone.L breathes out again.  "Will you be alright?" She whispers to Thisbe. The firefly nymph shakes her head quickly and puts a finger to her lips, her eyes on the ground as Puck's voice rings out, continuing to call names. L sees Fili hesitate as she’s called, then select two strong-looking males before she withdraws.L loses her focus again, until she can sense a shift. Puck lowers his scroll and calls out. "Members of the Silver Rose, you may step forward. Claim what is yours, then receive what you are owed."Most of the remaining nymphs get to their feet, Thisbe included. She darts a furtive glance at L, falling into line to cross the bridge."See you soon, danger moth."  She whispers.And then she’s gone as well. Only a quarter of the nymphs remain, and the dryads walking among them are smaller. L can feel them passing close. She fights the urge to draw her wings against herself and crouch against the floor."House Nereus, one nymph."Fili will protect us."House Isocrates."Fili will protect us."House Kassandra."Fili will protect us."Hey there."L twitches at the familiar voice, her wings shivering. She holds her silence.He wants a reaction.Helios crouches down. He's smiling at her."Lyra. I get two nymphs." He says, holding up two fingers  "And one of those…"  He drops his second finger.Tilts his hand forward.And pokes her in the forehead."... is you."L's breath quickens. She bares her teeth, grimacing.She darts her eyes to the audience, searching for Fili.  Echoes of the song thrum through her bones.He reaches over, running his hand along her arm until he reaches her wrist. His fingers squeeze. Gripping. Forcing her to stand. "We are going to have so much fun together. You, and me, and Thisbe."L lets out a little hiss and lifts her wings, flaring deep red eyespots at him. "I wouldn’t be so sure."Astraea. Or Fili. Or someone.  Any second now."I object...!" Astraea's high, clamouring voice rings out from across the canal. She’s pushed her way to the edge, ignoring the stares. She shines bright, and fierce, and scared. Furious relief floods through L's chest, even as a stab of pain shoots up her arm. "You can't-""I can." Helios calls back calmly. His grip tightens a little more, luxuriating in L's discomfort. "Or do you deny the right of hierarchy on this, the first day of the Termina Festival?""I rescind one of my claims to uphold Sister Astraea's objection."  Fili snaps irritably from the crowd, already reaching into her branches to shoo away a confused-looking beetle. Helios’s hand stays where it is. He leans in close, his breath hot on her ear. "Do you really think I learned nothing from our last encounter?""And I,” A voice from the back of the crowd booms out. “Rescind my second claim to counter Lady Filandra's objection."It’s Lord Hephaestus, only half-paying attention, occupied as he is with entwining Desdemona in his branches. A cricket nymph scurries back toward the bridge, though not without a parting grasp. "Checkmate."  Helios hisses, and bites her cheek, hard enough to hurt. L's blood turns to ice."That's - y-you can't - "  Her ribs feel too tight, crushing the breath from her.  "You can't!"Her voice is too high.The room is too bright."Fili...!"  Astraea yells desperately. Filandra’s staring in shock and disgust at Hephaestus. "I'm going to love breaking you."  Helios says. Stands. Drags her inexorably towards the canal. Another Keeping. No escape. No answers. No saving Neith.  No saving Ian.Nothing nothing nothing nothing nothingShe lunges for his arm, her teeth sinking into his flesh. Helios howls in pain, but there’s a vicious, triumphant delight in the sound. He grabs her by the neck, slamming her against the tiles, knocking the breath from her lungs. Somewhere, someone is screaming. Other people are applauding. "I can’t wait to pull the Wilds out of you, needle by needle. You hateful little animal."L wheezes, clawing at him, her eyes flaring viciously. When she blinks, she's back in the darkened theatre.  She can taste aether on her tongue. Feel the restraints on her arms. See the gold blood splashing across the floor. "Brother Helios."The voice freezes Helios to the spot. He doesn't release her, but he turns his head, looking up. Evander has risen from his seat.  Frowning. Disapproving.  "We are here to bring order. Brother Helios, please restrain yourself.""Of…of course, Brother Evander." Helios says, rising and dragging L to her feet.  Her stance lopsided, L holds her free arm against her side. Even across the canal, Evander towers over the two of them.  She can't pull her eyes away from him.  "Please." She begs. “Father Evander.”A murmur runs through the crowd, and Evander clasps his hands behind his back, considering. "I believe…”  He starts slowly, “...that gleaning Lyra, so soon after her reinstatement as a Kept of Xylia, is perhaps…too much for the young nymph. We cannot ask our children to run before they walk.” The whispers evaporate, leaving shocked silence in their wake. With a creak of his knees, Evander leans forward, lowering his hand over the canal.  “I am upholding Sister Filandra's objection."Helios stares uncomprehendingly. L tugs, her arm slipping free with a thin tearing sound - her sleeve, ripping down a delicate seam, flashing the bruises already developing on her skin. Moving slowly, like she's in a dream, L walks onto Evander's palm."Please." She repeats. The word sounds senseless, like it had a meaning she can't quite remember.Something subtle shifts in Evander's expression. He lifts her up and away from Helios, off the island, away from the pool of nymphs waiting to be claimed and onto the floor at his feet. Astraea’s there in an instant, pulling her from her feet, grabbing her close. "Th-thank you, Brother Evander - "  She says, forcing the words through desperate sobs. Evander’s brow crinkles. "We are here to celebrate, Sister."  He straightens and turns, smiling down at the island. "Now, please, Brother Helios. Select your second nymph.” 

The last of the nymphs are chosen, one by one, until the island is deserted. Laughter and song follows, dance and excitement. A feast is laid out. Artificers show off new masks to a crowd of eager dryads, volunteering newly claimed nymphs. But Astraea and L remain on the fringes, resting in the shadows of the columns. Astraea has yet to let go of her hand. L isn't going to object. It’s the only solid thing in the entire room. Everything else shimmers and flickers, reflections in a rippling pool. "Should we eat?" Astraea asks, half-aware of how toneless her voice is."Do you want to?"Astraea shakes her head, and they return to staring into the crowds."Sometimes,”  Astraea starts. “when I look at all of them, I think... what is it that they all know that I don't.  Like… how can they all be so…”Her words trail off.  She leans against the pillar, glancing back at L."... I… failed you. Tonight. I failed you, and now Helios will only be more voracious in his chase."L shudders, pulling her arm closer.  "...i-it doesn't matter." Flowery, spicy scents drift from the tables. They should be making her mouth water, but all she feels is a faint, nauseous lurch.  Her skull throbs. The buzz of conversations wash through her ears, somehow gaudy and surface-deep. She huddles against the pillar, using it for support."... we'll leave tonight." Astraea says, some certainty finding its way back into her voice. "I'll talk to Fili.  We weren't able to get any answers, but at least we'll be back in the Market.  At least everyone will be safe."L nods.  Quiet.  Resigned. "I'm sorry I made us come here.""You didn't make us come.  I offered to help, and you asked.”  Astraea looks down, smiling softly, tracing the veins on the back of L's hand. “Have I… ever told you how Lyra and I met?"L gives her head a quick shake, peering out from under her hair.  Astraea meets her gaze, and smiles even against a deeper hurt, and says.“Then let me show you."continue reading ->

Maybe it’s just me, but I think the nymph chorus would be relaxing to listen to. In a way. The first part, at least. How about you?Hey, everyone! Hark here again, back to thank you for stopping in for the chapter! Some ups, some downs, some bruises, but L’s a little bit wiser and she’s passed the Gleaning, so we can have the rest of the cast stop ominously mentioning it to her :3 Don’t forget to leave Heart two or three picks for a potential chapter illustration! Our next entry goes up on November 1st! Come start the month by joining L to hear what Astraea has to say…