Valiant: Tales From The Drift

[Tails #40: Foxtails]

Log Date: 3/25/12765

Data Sources: Lysanne Arrignis, Jazel Jaskolka

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Bridge

9:33am LST

“So. Figured I’d sit you down and ask, now that the demon duo have gone their way and it’s just the usual suspects now.” Milor says, leaning back in one of the chairs behind the consoles. “I know the plan is to hit up the hospital and get some care for Kaya, but do we know what we’re doing after that?”

I roll my lip, glancing at the news reports up on the bridge’s main screen. Continuing coverage of the Collective invasions, which have now expanded to at least three systems. “Honestly, Milor? I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it, but I don’t know what we’re gonna do. I mean, technically we were supposed to go back to the CURSE HQ after we dealt with Azra, and we’ve done that now… do you think it’s a good idea to go back there?”

Milor shrugs, digging around in his duster for a toothpick. “I wouldn’t say it’s a good idea, but it’s probably what we should do at this point. We don’t have an excuse to stay away anymore. You afraid of facing up to them after disobeying direct orders several times in a row?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you?” I ask, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Ignore that, that’s a stupid question…”

“Prolly doesn’t matter to me as much as it does to you and Jazel, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t get it.” he says as he comes up with a toothpick. “It’s your job; CURSE is your boss. I get it. You don’t wanna be out a job, especially with a war starting up and the galaxy startin’ to destabilize. Staying away will just make it worse, though. Eventually they’ll figure out we did what we were supposed to do, and their fear of the demon Lord will wear off. If we don’t go to them, they’ll come to us eventually, and the longer we push it off, the worse it gets for us. Better to get it over with sooner rather than later.”

I nod, biting my lip. “Yeah… yeah, I guess so. Guess I’ll tell Dandy to set a course for the CURSE HQ once Kaya gets out of the hospital, then.”

“Hey blondie, look on the bright side. Love ‘im or hate ‘im, the red bastard did pull some strings to make sure we were taken care of.” Milor points out. “Even if CURSE decides to cut us loose, we’ve got that safety net we can fall back on. Strawberry soda said it was enough for each of us to comfortably live on for a few years, and it would stretch twice as long if you tighten the belt and keep it modest.”

I scowl at that. “Urrgh, I just… hate that. That he has that kind of pull, that kind of power, where all it takes is a single meeting and he can hand us hundreds of thousands of credits in assets within a week.”

Milor tucks his toothpick between his teeth. “That’s how it is, kiddo. The galaxy spins around people that are that high up on the food chain. Just be glad he’s on our side — I can’t imagine what kind of dirt he has on CURSE to bend the administration over the table the way he did.”

“Was he ever really on our side?” I ask, folding my arms as I start to pace. “Or was he just helping us because of Jayta?”

“Probably has a bleeding heart for his little demonette. Even so, that means we got help that we wouldn’t have gotten otherwise.” Milor points out. “Don’t get me wrong — he rubs me the wrong way too. I didn’t like some of the things he did to help us. But he did help us, Lysanne. He’s powerful and well-connected. It’s like our frenemies thing with Medukat. Y’all hate him, but it hasn’t kept us from working with him when we need help that we can’t get on the light side of the law.”

I sigh. I know he’s right, but… “If the galaxy was working properly, we wouldn’t have to be hitting up black market barons and demon Lords for the help we’re supposed to be getting from CURSE. It’s all… backwards. It’s not the way things are supposed to work.”

Milor takes a deep breath, sitting forward in his chair. “Welcome to reality, blondie. It’s pretty rough out here, and sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty if you wanna do the right thing.” He stands up with that, stretching his arms out. “While Kaya’s getting treated, you and Dandy should see about getting the story straight for CURSE. They’ll probably wanna know what we were up to, even though they were told to stay out of it. Polish it up to make it look good, spin it so it looks like we didn’t have a choice when the demon Lord came calling, and maybe CURSE will decide to keep the contract. Be a shame if they decided to cut us for something we had no control over, after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll add it to the list.” I say, glancing back to the screens. “If we do get cut… what are you going to do?”

Milor had started to head to the bridge door, but looks over his shoulder. “Me? Figure I’d make sure you kids get to a spot where you’re good and settled. After that… didn’t really have much of anything in mind, really. I ain’t the kind o’ fella that thinks that far ahead.”

“You just spent the last five minutes lecturing me about planning for the future!”

“Yeah, but that’s for, like, other people.” he says, waving a hand. “When it comes to my own life, I just kinda go with the flow. I don’t worry too much about it; life has a way of getting me to where I need to go.”

I make a face at that. “Well, if you end up needing a place to crash until you figure things out, I’m sure you can tag along with us. You’re not too bad, for a washed-up Challenger with a drinking problem.”

“Aw, thanks blondie. That almost felt like a compliment.” he says, tipping his hat to me before he steps out of the bridge. As he leaves, I go back to studying the screens, and I can’t help but feel daunted as the news brings back reports of the first clashes in an ever-widening war.

The galaxy is changing, and I’m not sure what our place in it will be if CURSE decides to punish us for our insubordination.

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Velennia: Atrugaia Central Hospital

3/26/12765 1:13pm SGT

“Well, the good news is that your ship adjutant provided the best care that could’ve been given outside of a medical setting.” the doctor says as he turns from the screens with the charts on them, studying a data slate. “Honestly it hasn’t left us with much to do besides take scans and recommend a course for home treatment. We probably could’ve done more, maybe even reattached the tails, if you’d been closer to a hospital when the injury happened. I understand you had to book it through tunnelspace to get here, though.”

I nod quietly. “Yeah. This was the fastest we could get here.”

“Well, you did the right thing, and this injury was handled as well as it could’ve been, given the distance and facilities you had access to.” he says, pulling a hoverchair over so he can sit down in it opposite me. “All we’ve done is a little cleanup work, and the stump seems to be healing well. No infections, and we’re looking at prescribing two topical creams, one to help with accelerating the healing, the other to help with pain. However, the bad news is that her tails are not going to naturally grow back. If she was a reptile vashaya’rei, there may have been a chance; reptilian vashies can sometimes regrow their tails, depending on their subspecies. But for mammalian vashies, tail amputation is not recoverable after twenty-four hours. I know that was your mate’s primary concern, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

I don’t argue with him, simply nodding; I’m sure he’s telling me something that would normally be true in any other situation. But Raikaron had told me Kayenta would be able to get her tails back, and Maelstrom and Radiance had said the same thing when they first told me how we would have to banish Azra. I know they wouldn’t have lied to me on something so important, so I know there’s a way for Kayenta to get her tails back. It’s just a matter of figuring out how.

“As for the road to recovery…” he goes on, swiping through another window on his slate. “She will need to be on bed rest for the next month. No heavy exertion, and she’ll need to be sleeping on her side or on her front, since lying on her back will put the stump under pressure and may deform it, or prevent it from healing properly. Diet will need to have a decent amount of meat or proteins to help rebuild the tissue around the stump — and mind you, we’re going to be including all of this in the discharge documents that we’ll be giving you, so don’t feel like you have to memorize it — and we’ll also be providing a little booklet of physical therapy and balance exercises that can help her acclimate to the loss of her tail. As you are a morphox yourself, I’m sure you understand how important tails are when it comes to balance and movement, and it can be very jarring to no longer have that counterweight to help control your movements.”

I fight the urge to reach back and touch my tail. Though I’ve been a morphox for about two weeks now, it’s still very fresh to me — a change that I still haven’t fully settled into. “Yeah, I understand. Thanks.” I say quietly.

Perhaps sensing that none of the news is helping elevate my mood, he sets his slate aside. “If it helps, Mr. Jaskolka, your mate is otherwise in excellent health. In fact, that may be why, physically speaking, she has handled this so well, and why I am optimistic about her path to recovery. Psychologically, I understand she’s very distraught, and that’s to be expected when coming out of a hostage situation. She may need counseling, therapy, or psychiatric help after such an experience, and if you would like, we can give you a referral for psychiatrists that specialize in treating severe traumas — soldiers returning from war, survivors of long-term abuse, that sort of thing.”

My mind flits to Quilf, and I almost tell him that I won’t need the referral, but… “I have a therapist I’ve seen; I think we might use him… but in case it’s not a good fit, or he’s too busy, can I get that referral? Just in case.”

“Of course. I’ll add it to the discharge documents.” he says eagerly, as if encouraged by getting more than a single-sentence answer. “The prescription for the creams will be in there as well, along with our recommended course of treatment for recovery. We have a pharmacy here in the hospital where you can pick up the medication on your way out, to make it easier for you. Let me see about getting that written up and sent down to the pharmacy, so they can have that ready for you by the time you check out.”

He rises from his chair and departs the room with that, leaving me to drift in my thoughts. The last week has been a hard one for me, in spite of everything that had gone our way. We’d defeated Azra; rescued Kayenta; no one died; and I was stronger, faster, more powerful than I’d ever been at any point in my life. Literally everything that could’ve gone right had gone right; and yet… I had never struggled as much as I have in the past week, trying to take care of Kayenta as she recovered, trying to comfort her in the aftermath of her rescue. Losing her tails had changed everything for her; losing her tails meant losing all of her magic, which meant losing all of her power, and all of her strength. The first few days, she cried so much I thought she was going to dehydrate herself if she didn’t stop, and the only thing that seemed to help was holding her and trying to rock her to sleep. The actual physical pain of the amputation, the trauma of being possessed by Azra for so long — both of those things paled in comparison to her grief over losing her tails.

At the very least, the crying had somewhat subsided over the last few days, but it had been replaced with depression and listlessness and shame. It was only just now starting to become clear to me how much her tails were a part of her ego; so much of her self-worth and confidence were tied up in how powerful she was, and in her ability to hold that over other people. With that taken away from her, her self-esteem had collapsed in on itself; she was reluctant to leave our room because she didn’t want the others to see her without her tails, and getting her to come planetside for this hospital visit had been a battle that had almost resulted in her being brought down here against her will. We managed to find a compromise at the last second where she could wear one of my cloaks, thereby hiding her lack of tails from the rest of the general public; not that the general public even cared that she had tails, much less knew who she was. But Kayenta was convinced that everyone that looked at her would see her lack of tails and would somehow know what she had lost, and she couldn’t stand the shame that would come with that. So, the cloak it was… and even then, getting her to take it off so that the nurses could take scans and run tests had been yet another battle that had required extensive reassurance and coaxing from me.

It all left me so very… tired.

Even if there was no physical exertion involved, I had been expending so much mental and emotional energy that I just felt like curling up and going to sleep so I could recover. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the easy fixes hadn’t worked — feeding her vials of my soul had nourished her, but hadn’t grown back her tails; the same went for the spirit blooms I’d been cultivating. So now I needed to find another way to help her grow back her tails; I felt an obligation, a duty to do so, since I’d been the one that had sliced them off in the first place. That weighed on me every time I saw her crying quietly in our bed, and it kept me up at night as I stared at the ceiling, trying to tick through what other options we might have for getting her tails back… and plagued by the worry that I might already know the answer to the problem, and it was likely an answer that Lysanne and Dandy would not be happy with.

“Shit, kiddo. You sittin’ there like someone just gave you a cancer diagnosis.”

I look up to see Milor leaning in the doorway, chewing on a toothpick. He’d decided to come planetside with us, ostensibly to find a place where he could restock his liquor reserves, but he must’ve wrapped up that errand and come here to join us at the hospital.

“No, it’s fine. She’s in good health, the doctor said.” I say, pushing off my knees and sitting up a little. “I’m just… tired. Not that I blame her; it’s just… it’s been a lot to handle.”

“Yeah. Well, women can be a lot to handle sometimes. You’re doin’ a good job, though.” he says, taking his toothpick out of his mouth and examining the chewed-up end. “She might not notice how much you’re doing for her right now because she’s still moping over her tails, but she’ll appreciate it later. I think. People think of women as the more thoughtful of the two sexes, but that ain’t always the case. Although you could say that goes for some men too. So maybe it’s a people thing, not a gender thing. I dunno. Point is, you’re doin’ a good job, kid. I know it’s tough right now, but it’ll get better.”

“I hope so.” I say, looking at my hands. “I just… I’m tired. I just want things to go back to the way they were before. I want her to be happy, to be full of life and to enjoy things, like she did before. But that won’t happen until I figure out how to get her tails back, and I…”

My eyes flick to the doorway, and Milor notices. Stepping inside, he waves the door shut, and sits down on the counter. “The quick fixes aren’t workin’, are they.” he guesses.

I press my lips together, still glancing at the closed door. “Promise you won’t tell Lysanne what I’m about to tell you?”

He shrugs, folding his arms. “Depends. Is it gonna hurt anyone else?”

I weigh it over, whether or not I should tell him, then decide that if I’m gonna get it off my chest, he’s probably the best person to do it with. “I think she needs to extract soul from a living person in order to start regenerating her tails. It can’t be processed, adulterated, or transformed — it has to be raw, straight from the source. I think. I don’t have any proof, it’s just a theory, since the soul vials and the spirit blooms aren’t doing the trick…”

“Yeah…? I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. I don’t know much about magic, but it makes sense to me.” he says, flipping his toothpick over so he can chew on the fresh end. “And you don’t really have a way to test it except by trying it out, do you.”

“Yeah.” I say heavily. “I know how Lysanne and Dandy are gonna feel about that, so I haven’t brought it up.”

“Fair enough. No point in getting them wound up with something you know will piss them off.” Milor says, working the toothpick around. “So what I’m hearing is that you might need to take your girl on a hunting trip.”

I give him a surprised look; even though I know what he means by that, I didn’t expect him to suggest something like that.

“I’m not saying you’d be hunting any old rando for their soul. I’d expect you to be selective about it.” he says. “Go for someone that should be kept off the streets, or maybe someone that’s ready to take the long walk. Hell, a place like this, a hospital — I’m sure there’s a few folks in here that aren’t long for life, that might want a merciful end. Point is, there’s ways to get her what she needs without taking it from good people.”

The gears in my head start to churn. “Still, it’d be… killing someone.” I point out.

“Killing someone that doesn’t deserve to live, or someone that’s ready to clock out anyhow.” Milor counters. “People nowadays lose sight of the fact that life ain’t always worth living. Medicine’s come a long way, so there’s this perception that there’s a cure for everything, and if there isn’t, there’s something that will at least make it bearable. But that ain’t always the case — and even when it is, there’s no guarantee that you’ll be able to afford it. Doesn’t happen very often nowadays, but there are people that need and want some help moving on from this life.”

I’m quiet as I roll that around in my head. He has a point, I’m pretty sure. There are probably people out there that have conditions for which there are no cure, or for which they cannot afford the cure. People that are old, or tired, or disabled, to the point of desiring a death of mercy. If we could find people like that, we could give them what they want, while getting what we need for Kayenta.

“Would that even be legal?” I ask after some time spent in thought. “I suppose it would depend on the nation, and the laws of the particular system that you’re in…”

“Well, the vigilante angle definitely isn’t legal. But finding someone that needs euthanasia and providing the service to them? That will depend on the system you’re in at the time.” Milor agrees. “It’s doable, though. That’s how modern Shanarae survive; they provide end-of-life service for… well, people that are at the end of their lives, or feel like life isn’t worth living anymore. It might be worth checking to see if there’s a Shanarae settlement somewhere nearby that we can visit — maybe they can spare a couple of people off their waitlist.”

I don’t get a chance to respond to that, because there’s a knock at the door, before it’s waved open. Standing at the door is a nurse escorting Kayenta, who’s huddled into the cloak she wore on the way here; I quickly stand up, moving towards her, while she shuffles right over to me, tucking her face into my neck and pressing against me as I wrap my arms around her.

“I wanna go home now.” she whispers, so quietly I can barely hear her.

“We’re done with all the benchmarks, so we’ll be adding those to her medical record once we’ve got those assessed and processed.” the nurse says. “The relevant materials will be added in the discharge documents. You all will be able to leave as soon as the doctor signs the discharge order.” After that, she gives a narrow-eyed look to Milor.

“It’s okay. He’s our bodyguard.” I say quickly. “We had him out running errands.”

Milor reaches up, tipping his widebrimmed hat to the nurse. “Ma’am.”

“Oh. A bodyguard. Well, I’ll let you to it, then.” she says, turning and going her way.

Once she’s left, I nuzzle my cheek against the side of Kayenta’s head, stroking her back in slow, repeating motions. “We’ll leave soon.” I tell her softly. “We need to get some documents, and pick up some medicine to help you feel better, but once we have those, we can go back to the ship.”

“Okay.” she whispers, her fingers finding their way into my shirt and clinging to me. I can feel my heart break a little — it’s so different from the way she used to be when she was out and about. All her confidence and curiosity is gone, and instead of having to rein her in and keep her from wandering, now she’ll hardly let go of me, clinging to me like she can hide behind me and mask herself from the eyes of others. It hurts to see her like this — I want to give her back her what she had before, her hunger for life, for seeing and doing new things.

“I’ll call the girls, ask ‘em if they can be here for pickup in about thirty minutes.” Milor says, pulling his phone and stepping out of the room. “Maybe we can grab something to eat on the way back to the starport. I could go for a Venusian burger, and I think I remember Kaya liking those too.”

“Thanks, Milor.” I tell him as he steps out. Gently tugging Kayenta with me, I sit back down, letting her settle into my lap and curl up against me. Without her tails, she seems so much smaller now — she doesn’t take up nearly as much space as she did before. It’s much easier to consolidate her into a little bundle in my arms.

But I would trade that convenience in an instant it if mean she could have her tails, and her confidence, back.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Lab 2

3/27/12765 8:19pm LST

“If nothing else, the fact that these tails haven’t started decomposing yet is evidence that they have some unique properties.” Ozzy says from where he’s hunched over the scanner microscope, which has one of the severed tails loaded into the tray for examination. “Which, of course, should not come as a surprise since we cut them off a goddess, but it’s still remarkable. The appendage appears to be in pristine condition, even after being separated from the body, and might even be alive — I had expected to find a scab here at the root of the tail, but it appears to have healed itself even without nutrition. This is remarkable in every sense of the word; a proper research project revolving around these remains might yield breakthroughs in regenerative therapies, and that could just be the start.”

“That’s great, but I’m more concerned about the fact that you said they might still be alive.” I say, arms folded. “I don’t like that. If these things are alive and able to heal themselves, I don’t want them growing legs and wandering off because we left them unattended.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous, even for me.” Ozzy scoffs. “Just because they might be alive doesn't mean they’re going to develop limbs of their own and wander off. It would need a brain and a nervous system for that, and there’s no way that’s happening.”

“If they’re alive, maybe they can be reattached?” Milor asks as he tears a hunk of sourdough apart, chewing idly on it. “Might help Kaya, since she’s devastated about losing her tails.”

“I mean, I could be wrong, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Ozzy says, pulling the tray out of the microscope to show us the tail coiled up on it. “These tails aren’t Kaya’s tails; they’re Azra’s tails. You can tell because they’re still red with white tips — they didn’t turn back to silver when they were cut off. If, like Lysanne says, there’s still a sliver of Azra in these tails, then trying to reattach them to Kaya might corrupt her.”

“Trying to graft them back on would be surgically complicated as well.” Dandy adds. “It would not be advisable with the state she’s currently in. She still seems heavily traumatized, and putting her through another stressful experience is inadvisable.”

“So if we’re not gonna sew them back on, what are we gonna do with them?” Milor says. “Doesn’t seem like there’s really much we can use them for.”

“Actually, there’s an extensive array of things you could use these tails for—” Ozzy begins.

“Which we are not going to do.” I say, stopping that train of thought before it has a chance to leave the station. “Whatever dark rituals or powerful spells or potions can be made out of these tails, we are not touching them with a ten-foot pole. It’s bad enough that Jazel got turned into a morphox when we left him unsupervised with a shard of Azra’s soul. We are not going to repeat that with her tails.”

“Well, that still doesn’t answer the question of what we’re gonna do with them.” Milor says. “Are we just gonna stuff ‘em in the core vault along with Azra’s armor and leave them there?”

“That may be the responsible thing to do for the present.” Dandy says. “We can place them in a reinforced container as a precaution, in case they begin exhibiting adverse qualities or tendencies. We could also see about delivering them to the Preserver Academy at a later date for research.”

“Yeah, they could probably get a lot of mileage out of studying the remains of a goddess.” I say, taking the tray and examining the tail curled up on it. “Plus, it would burnish our resume as Preservers. We’d be making a contribution to the research community that not a lot of other Preservers have accomplished.”

“That’s assuming they believe you.” Milor says, ripping another chunk of sourdough. “CURSE only believed us after they got a visit from the demon Lord. Not sure how you’re gonna convince a bunch of nerds that we beat a demon goddess and cut off her tails. They’re usually pretty tight on having proof to back up claims, aren’t they? Evidence-based approach and all that?”

“The proof is sitting right here!” I protest, holding up the tray.

“Hate to break it to ya, blondie, but that just looks like any old fox tail on a tray.” Milor says, taking a bite out of the sourdough chunk. “I know it came from the queen foxbitch, but I can’t tell the difference between it and any other fox tail at a glance. It’s gonna be the same for anyone else that looks at it.”

“The Academy has many instruments and tools used for measuring magical abnormalities and artifacts. They may very well discover something simply by running it through tests in one of these tool suites.” Dandy points out.

“There’s also assessors in the black market that can do evaluations of magical artifacts.” Ozzy suggests. “If they can determine that it’s of divine provenance, then it can fetch quite—”

“NO.” all three of us say at once, cutting Ozzy off before he can finish.

“Okay okay, fine, fine.” Ozzy mutters, putting his hands up. “I’m just, like, saying, y’know, if CURSE does end up cutting the contract, and we can’t find jobs, and the money from the demon Lord starts running out, then selling the tails of a demon goddess could probably net you enough money to live pretty comfortably for the rest of your life…”

Milor pauses. “How much money, exactly? Like, a conservative estimate.”

“No.” I repeat again, pointing the tray at Milor. “We are not going to sell the remains of a demon goddess into the the black market, of all places, where it’s likely that it can find its way into the hands of someone that could do a lot of damage with it. The tails stay here for now. We’ll send a couple of them to the Academy so they can run tests on them, and if they find anything worth researching, we can tell them at that point where we got them and maybe send them the rest of the set for further analysis.”

“I mean, do we really have to send the entire set to them?” Ozzy asks. “I mean, that’s nine tails, they could probably do the same research with like, two or three tails, right?”

I glare at Ozzy, while handing the tray to Dandy. “If the Academy wants to research the tails, we send them the tails. That’s final. No black market assessments, no selling the tails for personal profit. Is that clear?”

“Just saying, we could probably sell the entire set for seven or eight figures with a proper assessment…” Ozzy mutters as he turns off the microscope.

“I will see to it that the tails are secured in the core vault along with the vials of Jazel’s soul and Azra’s armor.” Dandy says as she takes the tray. “They will be safe there.”

“Good. And like those two things, we keep it quiet, unless there’s a pressing reason to tell someone about it. I don’t want to be slapping another target on our backs after everything we’ve been through.” I say, snagging the loaf of sourdough out of Milor’s hand on my way to the door. “And get a proper plate if you’re going to be eating food outside of the kitchen. You’re leaving crumbs everywhere.”

“Whu- seriously, blondie? I thought we defeated the goddess of tyranny, so why do I still feel like I’m being oppressed?”

“That’s not oppression, it’s table manners. Also, you’re on the rotation for the dailies tomorrow.”

“Unbelievable. Defeated a demon goddess, but I’m still a slave to chores…”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

The Dreaming

3/28/12765 1:50am LST

I am in a throne room.

It’s a grand affair, the kind that’s excessively large, to the point that you could fit multiple houses into the space that it occupies. Redwood columns support the high-ceiling’d roof, framing the path from the doors to the throne; the entire room is cast in rippling patterns of light, created by spheres of water that hanging in the air in near the ceiling, running in a line from one end of the room to the other, giving off an inexplicable glow. The floor is a mosaic formed by massive slabs of tile, and the shadowed walls are carved as a wooden relief, portraying scenes of battle and conquest. Voices drift through the massive room, echoing off the many hard surfaces in here.

“He visited you a few days ago?”

“He did, yeah. I’m guessing after up he wrapped up you and whatever else he had to do for the Gathering. He owed me a song and finally delivered on it, which was a surprise — I hadn’t thought he would have time to work on it while he was dealing with the mess you made. Although — you might like this — evidently it was an arrangement of a song inspired by you, and sung during a ritual that preceded your defeat.”

“That’s a backhanded compliment, if I ever heard one.”

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. If it helps, the arrangement he put together sounds pretty good in my head. Once I clean up some other things, I think I’m going to hit the studio and record a version for myself, just to see how it sounds, and if I like it, I’ll be passing it on to one of my pop stars down on the mortal plane. Gonna see if I can make it the anthem for the coming war.”

“Let me know when it releases. I’m curious now.”

I find myself behind one of the redwood columns, carefully peeking around it towards the raised throne at the end of the room. Azra is slouched in the throne, which looks like a tree that’s been twisted into the shape of a chair, with the branches in the back fanning outward like the radiating rays of the rising sun. A folding camp chair has been set up on the dais not far from her, and a petite woman is sitting in it, dressed in a black plugsuit with pink highlights, her soft pink hair pulled into twin ponytails so long that they pool on the floor when she’s sitting down. Both of them are sipping on drinks, chatting like two old friends that are catching up with each other.

“Has anyone else come to visit since you returned?”

“Just my father, and only so he could throw the book at me. Another fifteen thousand years, before you ask. Suffice to say, I won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“Hey, that’s not too bad, all things considered. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

“I’ve literally spent my entire adult life in this prison, Wicked.”

“Because you can’t stop poking your elders in the eye, Azra. Like jeez, even I know there are people I need to avoid pissing off. I don’t do it often, but I’ve gotta bend the knee sometimes.”

“Color me surprised. A music goddess that sells herself as a rebel to the masses before turning around and selling out to the man. We really aren’t that much different from mortals, are we.”

“I don’t sell out to ‘the man’. I pick who I bend the knee to. It makes a big difference, you know? People remember that kind of stuff, and they’re more likely to lend you a hand when they remember the time that you made their life easier instead of being a stubborn little prick.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a goddess of music. I’m the goddess of tyranny. Telling me to bend my knee to someone else is like telling water not to be wet. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

“It is a ‘me’ problem, in that other people don’t give me the respect I deserve… mm.”

“Something up?”

“I think we’ve got a guest…”

As soon as I hear that, I realize that somehow, someway, she’s sensed my presence here. I quickly pull back behind the pillar, and turn around to see if I can slink away into the shadows along the sides of the room.

Only to find she’s standing right behind me, literally less than six inches away, hot green eyes glowing in the shadow.

Terror shoots through me, my heart rate skyrocketing as I jerk backwards, tripping over on my feet and falling out into the lit portion of the room. I keep scrambling backwards over the floor as she walks up on me, though I notice she only has one tail, and Azra is still slouched on her throne, meaning she must’ve split off one of her tails to go get me. The single-tail Azra is quick to swoop down on me, getting a handful of my shirt and lifting me in the air, just high enough that my toes are grazing the cold tile, trying to find something to stand on.

“What’s that?” the plugsuited goddess asks, looking over her shoulder at us.

“My brother-in-law.” the Azra on the throne answers. “Clever little shite that got me banished back here before I could finish terraforming Tirsigal. He must be dreaming right now; don’t think he’d have a way to show up here otherwise.”

“Oh. So he’s not here on purpose?” the other goddess asks.

“Probably not. He’s got a chunk of me inside him now, so he probably just blundered his way into this link from whatever wet dream he was having.”

I scowl at that, getting a leg up to kick at the Azra holding me, but she easily bats it away and throws me on the floor in the direction of the throne. She’s on me before I can get back up, planting a foot on my chest and pinning me against the floor. “Like I’d be having a wet dream about you, you fluffy whore.” I spit at her.

The plugsuited goddess snorts at that. “Yeah, he’s got a chunk of you inside of him, with a temper like that.” She takes another swig of her drink, then stands up out of the camp chair. “I’ll go on walkabout so you two can do whatever it is you need to do. Prolly gekker and scream at each other, since you’re both foxes.”

“I’ll send one of my attendants to get you once I’m done with him.” Azra says as the plugsuited goddess makes her way down the stairs leading to the throne. The only response is a wave, just before she blurs and reappears at the double doors at the end of the room, opening one of them and stepping through before pulling it closed behind her.

With her departure, the single-tailed Azra takes her foot off me and dissolves into crimson smoke, while the Azra up on the throne shifts as she regains her missing tail. I scramble back to my feet, glaring at her, and she just swirls her drink, taking a sip of it before speaking. “Well, don’t keep me waiting. Get up here.”

I don’t move, and when it becomes clear that I don’t intend to obey her, she just rolls her eyes and hooks a finger towards me. I yelp as I feel an unseen force spin me around and start dragging me across the floor of the throne room by the tail, sliding on my hands and knees across the tile with nothing to grab on to or help slow my movement. “Ow! Owowowow okay, okay, I’ll come, jeez!”

Even so, the pulling doesn’t let up until I hit the stairs at the base of the throne, where I brace myself on the steps while rubbing at the base of my tail. “You’re in my house now. Show a little respect.” she orders. “Now get up here.”

I scowl at her, but get to my feet and make my way up the stairs. Once I’ve reached the throne, she beckons me forward, and I come forward a few paces only to be forced down to my knees by a single motion from her, sitting on the ground in front of the throne. “What do you want.” I grunt, folding my legs together to sit more comfortably.

“I want a lot of things, but nothing from you right now.” she says, taking a sip from her drink. She’s dressed in something that looks like a satin silk bathrobe or loungewear or something like that, and it’s only loosely secured around her waist with a lazily tied bow. “Not like you could give me anything, anyway.”

“Then why am I here?” I demand.

She shrugs. “You tell me. I didn’t call you here. Either you came here because you wanted to, which I doubt, or fate decided to kick your ass into my throne room for shits and giggles.” She kicks her legs back and forth, hung over one of the arms of her throne, as she studies her drink. “Have you started getting Kaya’s tails back?”

I just glare at her.

“Look, little man. Like it or not, you and I are family now.” she says. “Even if my dumb little sister dumped you, you and I would still be linked because there’s literally a chunk of me fused into you. So you better get used to this, because this connection is not going away anytime soon. Neither of us like it, but you and I are gonna be seeing each other around from time to time.”

I puff out a breath at that. “And what, you just expect me to get along with you after what you did?”

“I’d appreciate it if you obeyed me like a good little brother-in-law, and do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it.” she says, picking up a little candy dish beside her throne and digging through it. “I’m guessing from the way you glared at me that you haven’t start getting Kaya her tails back.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“She’s my little sister. It’s my business.” she says, coming up with a hard candy shaped like a shiny grape and popping it in her mouth. “You’ve found out that the soul vials and the spirit blooms aren’t gonna cut it, haven’t you?”

“Unless you’ve got a solution for me, I’m not gonna discuss this with you.” I say, eyeing the candy dish she has. I doubt I’d be able to eat anything, since I’m here in a dream, but it doesn’t make it any less tempting.

“Solution is that she needs a live feeding to start growing back her tails. One soul for every tail.” Azra says, using her pinky to poke around in the candy dish. “Most morphoxes can get away with growing tails from the processed stuff, but my former vessels need the good shit, straight from the source. Good news is, she’ll be even stronger than she was before, once she starts getting her tails back.” Picking a strawberry candy out of the dish, she flicks it at me; I flinch, even though it passes through me and goes clattering down the stairs. “Pity. I was hoping I could bounce some of these off your forehead.”

“You’re just the worst, you know that?” I say, folding my arms.

“Blah blah blah, I’m a demon goddess, blah blah blah, insert justification here.” Azra says, making talky motions with one hand before picking another candy out of the bowl. “We both know the script, so I’m not even gonna bother answering that. You know I’m terrible; this is not news to you.”

That bothers me; not the fact that she’s terrible, because a lot of people are terrible, but the fact that she has the self-awareness to acknowledge it, and still makes an effort to be terrible. A lot of people I know are terrible for a reason: they’re doing it to achieve something, or to make money, or to establish their place in the social order. But Azra’s a goddess; she’s already on the top of the social order, has power and luxury beyond anything a mortal would be able to attain. She has no reason to be mean to other people, aside from amusing herself.

“Have you considered being nice to people?” I ask suddenly. “You might get more mileage out of that.”

She groans, throwing her head back. “Gaaaaaaaawd you sound like my mother. I’m gonna go crazy if I have to start hearing it from both of you.” Setting the candy dish down, she takes her legs off the arm of her throne, leaning forward and resting her forearms on her knees now. “How about I teach you some dark magic? Stuff that I’m good at. Since there’s a part of me inside you now, you’d probably be good at it too.”

I lean back a little, furrowing my brow at that. “What? Wh… why would you offer that? Don’t you hate me?”

She shrugs. “Eh, you’re not too bad. And I have a vested interest in you now, since you’re a piece of me that’s wandering around on the mortal plane. I can’t have you dying too quickly, so I’d rather make sure that you’re equipped.”

I don’t know what to say to that. Of all the things I’d expected from an encounter like this, this wasn’t one of them. After everything I’d done to stop her, I figured she would be furious and vengeful; that she would resent me and hold a grudge. I hadn’t expected her to move on so quickly, and I especially hadn’t expected her to turn around and offer something that almost seemed helpful.

“Um… I, uh… I don’t think… I think I’ll have to say no for now.” I answer unsteadily, too confused to try being smarmy. I have to stop myself from thanking her for the offer; it’s a reflex of politeness, and I’m not sure I’m ready to be polite to Azra.

“Not surprising. I figured you would need more time to come around.” she says, leaning back on her throne. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

That feels like a dismissal, so I start to get up so I can depart, though I’m not sure where I’m departing to, since this is a dream for me. I make it a couple steps down the stairs before I pause and look around at her. “What was it all for?” I ask. “All of this… just to start a war?”

Instead of giving me sass, Azra gives me a measuring look. Perhaps she can tell that I’m asking in earnest; can sense that I really don’t get it, and I’m trying to understand. “I think you’re the first person that’s asked me this question without planning to judge me for my answer. You really just want to know, don’t you. To figure out what you went through all this misery for.”

I consider replying to that, but in the end, I just give a nod.

Azra’s nails click against the arm of her throne as she looks to the side, lips pursed. “S’ppose that’s a good question. I wonder the same thing sometimes.” After a moment of contemplation, she goes on. “I suppose I was trying my best to fix things. The galaxy is not healthy right now, Jazel. It has been in a stupor since the fall of the Challengers, but even then, there are problems that go back further than that. The Collective keeps taking things that do not belong to them, and we keep letting them get away with it. And they mask their ambitions by claiming they are acting for the greater good, as they did in Mokasha, and on Tirsigal, and on countless other worlds… and I thought to myself: ‘two can play at that game’. So I made my plans, and went to Tirsigal to reclaim what rightfully belonged to the Diaspora. In the same way the Collective claims to be liberating other planets from their problems, you could say I was liberating Tirsigal from the Collective. That’s the virtuous spin, at least… the truth is that I wanted to make them pay for what they’d taken from us. I wanted to make an example of them, because they keep doing it. I got tired of what they were doing, got tired of seeing the other gods sitting back and letting it happen, even though we all agreed we didn’t like it… and I just snapped.”

I let that all sink in, working through the words and the way they were delivered. Unlike most other times, there doesn’t seem to be any posturing, performance, or pageantry. Azra is being frank and honest with me, admitting things I had suspected throughout the course of this adventure. “Do you feel sorry about dragging us into it? Would you have pulled us into it, if you didn’t have to?”

“Oh gods, no. You think I wanted to jump through all these hoops just so I could get onto the mortal plane to do what I was planning to do? No.” she replies immediately. “If I could’ve left you all out of it, I would’ve done so in a heartbeat. Would’ve made things a lot faster and easier, I promise you that.”

I nod. “That’s good to know, I guess.” I say, then decide to give it a shot. “You know, you could—”

“I’m not a good guy, Jazel. I killed seven billion people; I know my place.” Azra cuts me off before I can go any further. “We all have roles to play, and I am perfectly happy with being the evil demon goddess. Other people can play the hero — I’m not cut out for it, and it’s a boring role, anyhow.”

I close my mouth. Even if I might want to argue the point, I can’t bring myself to do so. I can feel the acceptance in her tone — this was the role she stumbled into a long time ago, and has since realized that she’s pretty good at it. “Alright. Guess I’ll just see myself out, then.” I say, starting back down the stairs again.

“Indeed. And remember, fresh souls for your mate! Don’t forget what I told you on Tirsigal! Next time I see you, I want to hear about all the people you murdered to help her get her tails back, you got it?”

I roll my eyes as the throne room starts to shimmer and fade away around me. “Bye, Azra.”

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young man! You listen to your goddess…!”

But by that point the dream has already faded away into deep, soft darkness.

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Temperate Biome

3/29/12765 10:25am LST

The rustling of leaves, the chirp and buzz of insects, the distant garble of water.

These are the sounds that form the white noise I’m listening to, sprawled out on a towel in the tall grass of the temperate biome. It’s been a while since I’ve done this, taking the time to soak in the artificial sunlight and just enjoy the sounds of nature. And after everything we’ve been through over the past four months, I feel like I deserve a little time to unwind and relax. There’s still plenty of stuff to worry about, but I’m finally taking Dandy’s advice, just pushing it all away and just letting it go for now.

It’s times like this — enjoying these simple pleasures — that I remember what it was like to be younger, and I wish I could go back to those days. Granted, I’m only twenty-nine, but it feels so much older than sixteen, and so much older than twenty-one. So much has happened between now and my earlier years, especially over the last two years. I feel like I’m a different person now than I was back then, and while it’s not a bad thing, I do find myself wishing sometimes that I could back to when things were simpler. When my job was just cataloguing and transporting magical creatures, and not dealing with the black market or hunting demon goddesses.

I open my eyes when I hear the beeping of the proximity sensor go off beside me; it’s a little stake, jabbed into the ground, with an antennae sticking up out of it. A safety tool that we used whenever we were doing stationary work in the biomes that had predators; it would go off whenever anything larger than a midsized animal wandered within a hundred feet of it. I usually brought one whenever I wanted leisure time in the temperate biome; I didn’t have the kind of relationship with the vorcruelians that Jazel had, and I wasn’t entirely convinced that they wouldn’t eat me if given the chance. Sitting up, I look around over the tall grass — and see Dandy making her way over to me.

I immediately relax, retreating from the taser prod I’d been reaching for. “Didn’t expect to see you out here.” I remark as she arrives, and sits down on the towel next to me. “Was there some work that needed to be done in this biome?”

“A few vegetation checks, nothing more.” she says, setting down a basket she’d brought with her and picking a striated fruit out of it. “The figs are in season. I managed to snag a few that the wasps hadn’t gotten to yet.”

“Huh. Fresh fruit.” I say, reaching out and taking the fig. “One of the nice thing about working on an ecological arkship, I suppose. Every now and then you can get food that’s never been processed or packaged. Straight from vine, all natural.”

“I have discovered that they are sweet, but a little messy.” Dandy says, pulling a cloth handkerchief out of the basket. “I figured I would warn you. My fingers got sticky, so I washed them in the stream.”

“That’s good to know.” I say, rotating the fig before taking a bite of it. It’s warm, and sweet, as Dandy had claimed. “Mmm. That’s good. And so soft, too… you know, this is the first time I’ve had a fig? I’m surprised they don’t sell these at the store more often.”

“Due to the soft nature of the fruit and its quick time to expiration, figs are notoriously difficult to cultivate as fresh produce.” Dandy explains, picking one out for herself. “They have a low tolerance for stacking and will squash beneath the weight of other figs if you place too many in a single container. And the window during which they progress from ripe to rotting is much shorter than other fruits. As a result, figs are typically processed into dried figs, which are more widely available as a food product, as they keep longer and are less susceptible to damage. But I suspect the quality of dried figs is likely inferior to the experience of consuming a fresh fig.”

“Well, I learned something new today.” I say, taking another bite of my fig, then leaning my head on Dandy’s shoulder as I chew. “Gods, this is nice. I missed this.”

“I am glad that we can have quiet moments like this again.” Dandy agrees. “I feel much more… relaxed, even with everything that lies ahead of us. I think the common saying is that it’s a weight off one’s shoulders, and it feels that way now that we have finished the task we were given by Maelstrom and Radiance.”

“Yeah. It’s nice.” Polishing off my fig with a last bite, I flick the stem off into the swaying grass. “I feel sorry for Jazel and Kaya. It’s been hard on the rest of us, but I think it’s been hardest on the two of them.”

“Indeed. They have both gone through much, and made sacrifices that the rest of us did not have to make.” Dandy says. “It is good that we succeeded in the quest we were given, but I would not want to be in the position either of them are in.”

“I can’t believe he gave up his humanity just like that.” I say. “Without a doubt, without hesitation… just chucked it for a better chance to defeat Azra.”

“Perhaps it was not a hard choice for him. From the way Raikaron explained it, and from what we ourselves witnessed, there were many benefits to be gained.” Dandy points out.

“I know, but… it’s still not a small thing, y’know?” I say. “Your race, your species… it’s part of your identity. It helps define you. It makes sense that he gave it up to rescue Kaya, but most people would really have to think about that. Even if it was beneficial to them, a lot of people would hesitate to make a change that big.”

“Most people. But Jazel does not have the standard inclinations of most people, I believe.” Dandy says.

“No, he doesn’t. For better or worse. He just went right for it… which is a very Jazel thing to do, if I’m being honest.” I admit. “I’m not surprised, it’s just… Jazel being Jazel. Leaves you scratching your head sometimes.”

“Would you change your species, if you had the opportunity to do so?” Dandy asks.

I pause to think that over. “I think… it’s one of those things where you think you’d want to do that, until you actually have the opportunity to do it. Most people just think about what they stand to gain by changing their species; they don’t think about what they will lose. Not that many people actually think about it, though, since that’s not something most people can change… but in the case of vampires, for example. I’ve heard tons of stories of humans that wanted to be vampires, and they got their wish… and they only realize after the fact all the things they were losing. When you ask people that question, most people only think about the things they’d stand to gain. They don’t think about the things they’d lose.”

“That’s an insightful observation.” Dandy remarks. “I had not considered that before.”

“What about you?” I ask. “Would you change your species, if you could?”

She cocks her head to one side and doesn’t answer right away; I can tell her neural core is working through the possibilities, weighing in all the factors and measuring them against each other. “I think I… might. I am uncertain. Going from cyberorganic to just organic would be a sharp change. It might change the way I think and process information, to the point of changing how I perceive the world. And I am not sure I would be comfortable with that. But also… I would like to be able to swim. My crysteel-alloy skeletal frame is too dense to permit me the buoyancy needed for swimming in most liquids. And I am sure there are a number of other things I cannot do because I am a Cyber.”

“Yeah… yeah, that makes sense.” I nod, cozying up to her. “If you did have to change, though, what species or race would you change to? If you had your choice.”

It’s another long moment of silence as she parses through the options and possibilities in her head, eventually settling on “Elf, I think. They have long lifespans, and a culture that respects the cultivation of talent and knowledge, along with the natural capacity for magic. I think I would appreciate having the time to study and learn new things, and I would like the support of a community that respects the acquisition of knowledge and the mastery of skills. What about you?”

“Hmm.” In my head, I go through the options, weighing the pros and cons of the races that I was generally familiar with. The more I think about it, the more I realize that Dandy can do this kind of comparative analysis much faster than I can — and I’m realizing that because of how long it’s taking me to review my options. “Gosh, there really are a lot of races, aren’t there.”

“Indeed. There are at least eighteen unique humanoid races in the galaxy, and hundreds of subvariants within those races. Elves have high elves, dark alves, and wood elves; humans have Originals, Venusians, Marshies, and Mercurials; the wereckanan have the Nine Tribes, and dozens of smaller tribes bridging the gaps between those tribes; the vampires have the Twelve Families, and… well, you get the point.”

“So many options… I think my problem is just figuring out what I’d pick when I could choose from so many. I dunno. I think, maybe elf? Because physically, elves aren’t that different from humans, so it wouldn’t be too much of a change for me, and then for the reasons that you listed earlier. Long lives and a culture that values knowledge and mastery of skills.”

Dandy nods. “I see. This was an engaging thought experiment. I liked it.”

I smile at that, turning my head to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I didn’t know you were so easy to please. Maybe I should bring some more speculative questions to our date nights.”

The corners of her mouth twitch a little, in what may be a smile. “I like questions that broaden my perspective.”

“And that’s why I love you.” I say, going back to resting my head on her shoulder. We linger like that for a bit, in silence, because Dandy raises the next question.

“Are you at all concerned about the future, Lysanne?” she asks.

I mull that over. “I am, yeah. I was thinking about it so much recently that I just got sick of it, and came out here to stop thinking about it. But yeah, there’s a lot that worries me. A lot that I’m not certain of.”

“I likewise have been contemplating the future, and the many concerns now before us.” she says. “I won’t make a conversation of the specific points, since you came out here to get a break from it. But as I considered the future, I also considered the present, and the recent past. I thought a lot about what Jazel did for Kayenta, and the way that Jayta interacted with Raikaron while they were aboard the Drift.”

That catches my attention. “Watching other couples, then?”

“Yes. It occurred to me that they were very dedicated to each other, especially Jazel and Kayenta. That even when times were difficult, or when it would be more beneficial to terminate the relationship and pursue other connections, they persisted through the difficulties, and at great cost. It was not logical, but it was… inspiring.” she says, before looking to me. “Do you think our relationship can be that dedicated?”

I lift my head from her shoulder again, studying her digital-blue eyes, then leaning forward to give her a soft, brief kiss. “I thought about this too.” I murmur once I pull back. “Weeks earlier, when Raikaron called me out. Asked if I would do the same if I was in Jazel’s position. It really made me think, wonder how far I would go and what I would do if you were the one that had gotten kidnapped, and not Kaya.”

Dandy’s limpid eyes search me, her lips parting slightly as if the kiss left her wanting more. “What was your conclusion?”

“That I was a hypocrite for telling Jazel he shouldn’t have taken the risks he took, or go as far as he went.” I say, slowly leaning in again. “Because I probably would’ve done the same thing in his shoes.”

I kiss her again, and this time she reaches up to cup the back of my neck to keep me there. I reach across her to plant a hand on the ground, steadying myself as I savor her warm lips, the taste of fig on her tongue, and I remind myself what I’m living for.

Moments like this, where connection and desire and warmth bloomed into love.

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Dandelion Drift: Hallways

3/30/12765 7:07pm LST

It’s not promising. Shanarae are an insular community, and they are very protective of the system they’ve built to feed themselves without breaking the law. The general impression I got from their response is that the Mercy agency was created for the benefit of applicants and Shanarae, and they do not allow outsiders to make use of the waitlists, or meet with the applicants. I asked for their policy on situational exceptions, but they entirely refused — they said they did not want to set a precedent.

Dandy’s words bounce around in my head as I make my way back to my quarters. Milor’s recommendation had legs on it, but ended up walking to a dead end — like many other systems designed for the benefit of a specific race, the Shanarae’s network of euthanasia centers were discriminate in their selection of who could make use of the offered services. On the applicant side, it was open to pretty much anyone that wanted to tap out of life early, for a wide array of reasons: terminal illness, end-of-life suffering, long-term depression, death row alternatives, and on and on. But on the service side, apparently the only ones allowed to render the termination service were Shanarae, presumably because Shanarae needed to siphon the life energy out of the living in order to keep living themselves. It wasn’t too different from the vampire bloodbanks, when you boiled it down — you had to be a vampire if you wanted to get blood out of a bloodbank. They wouldn’t give it to you otherwise, because only vampires and hospitals had that kind of specific need for blood.

The refusal of the Shanarae to allow us access to their euthanasia waitlist had stripped away the most palatable option I had for getting Kayenta access to fresh souls that could help regrow her tails. There was still the option of going on a hunt for unscrupulous individuals that would be better removed from society, but I knew that Lysanne and Dandy wouldn’t approve, and besides, I didn’t want to be feeding Kayenta rotten souls. You are what you eat, after all, and I was not going to feed my mate rotten souls after everything she’d been through.

But that left my only option as hunting down people that wanted a release from this life, and finding those people would be… difficult, and complicated. It wouldn’t be hard to track down a suicide forum on the galaxynet; there were probably millions of them. The difficult part was that Dandy probably would be monitoring any incoming and outgoing internet traffic from the ship, and she likely had filters in place that would flag content that discussed or encouraged suicide. Traffic to a forum like that would probably get flagged if it was flowing through the ship’s relays, which would probably trigger her to start monitoring what I was doing on a site like that, which would then prompt more questions, and then we would end up back up at the natural endpoint of this entire topic: Lysanne and Dandy disagreeing with the various ways in which I’m trying to secure a supply of soul for Kayenta.

Arriving back at my room, I plant my arm against the wall, rest my forehead against it, and let out a long sigh. Somehow I’d gotten it in my head that once we defeated Azra, the hard part would be over, and things would go back to normal. But now that I’m here with no clear answer on how I’m to help Kayenta get her tails back, it feels like hunting down Azra was easy in comparison. Well, maybe not easy, but straightforward. Even if it was a hard and punishing journey, I always knew I’d get to the endpoint if I just kept at it. But with this, multiple paths lie before me, and I’m not sure which one I should take.

Pushing off the wall, I take a deep breath, and tap the pad, opening the door so I can slip into my room and wave the door closed behind me. The lanterns are set low, as usual; I make my way over to the bed, slinking across it to where Kayenta’s curled up near the headboard. She’s lifted her head, the two of us touching noses when I reach her, and she holds still while I sniff over her ears and her neck, checking her scent to make sure she’s still in good health. Her hair’s a little damp, likely drying after a earlier shower; I notice the plate of dinner I’d left on the bedside for her is still untouched. Settling down on the bed next to her, I rest my head on the pillow as I gaze at her.

“You still haven’t eaten.” I say quietly.

She averts her august eyes from me. “What did the Shanarae say?”

I press my lips together. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask right away, and now I regret telling her about our outreach to the Shanarae, because I know the answer they gave will disappoint her. Still, I can’t lie to her. “They won’t let us.”

She closes her eyes and curls up a little more, and I sigh, reaching out and gently brushing her hair. “It is not the end. I will get your tails back. There are still other ways.” I say, because I have no intention of letting her think I’ve given up.

“You should take me back to Vissengard and leave me there.” she murmurs into the pillow. “I cannot be your mate anymore.”

“What? No. We are not going to do that.” I say, sitting up a little. “We will find people whose souls we can take—”

“For which we would need to kill people!” Kayenta cries, looking at me with watering eyes. “Lysanne would not let us! She would kick us off the ship… and our pact…”

I bite my lip; I can’t say she’s wrong about being worried about Lysanne’s reaction. I don’t think I’d be able to get away with it either; even if I did manage a successful hunt, I think that Lysanne and Dandy would figure it out eventually. Probably as soon as Kayenta grew back a tail. “That does not matter. I will fix it—”

“Why do you stay, little witch? Why haven’t you left already?” she wails. “I have nothing to give you; I have lost my tails, my power, my pride — I have nothing I can give you! I cannot be a good mate for you without my tails—”

I move forward, taking her face in my hands. “Kayenta Silvertail.” I cut her off, my voice low and firm as I lock eyes with her. “I did not chase you for your tails. I have not kept you for your tails. I am here for you, not your tails.” I use a thumb to wipe away some of the tears tracking down her face. “You are my mate, whether you have nine tails or none. I will keep you as mine, whether you are powerful or powerless. Do you understand?”

Her lip quivers, her silver ears folding back. “Do you not see me? I am weak and shameful without my tails. I cannot protect you; I cannot protect myself. I have nothing; no power, no strength…”

“You have me. You are my mate, which means I must take care of you. So I will, and I will get your tails back.” I repeat. “The demon Lord told me it could be done. Azra told me it could be done. So I will do it.”

“But how?” she asks, her face crumpling with a fresh wave of tears. “The Shanarae will not help us, and Lysanne will not let us hunt… how… how are we…”

I press my lips together as her voice fades into sobbing once more. I don’t say anything, because I don’t have an answer for her. I have no doubt that I could go on a hunt, bring back fresh souls for her to consume, but at the cost of inviting Lysanne and Dandy’s anger. After everything we’ve been through over the past few months, I don’t want to create any conflict among us. We’ve been through too much to start fighting with each other so soon after Azra’s defeat.

As I struggle with what to do, I feel a twinge of heat on my chest, just beneath my left collarbone. I pull a hand away to touch that spot, and realize it’s the scar that marks that pact between Kayenta and myself. It’s still in force, even if she may not be aware of it — and in that moment, I realize I also have the answer to this problem. It has been here all along; it is not even new, because I’ve done it before. I had simply gotten accustomed to not having to do it over the last year.

Reaching down, I take Kayenta’s hands, pulling them up to place them on my throat, positioning her thumbs under my jaw. She opens her eyes at that, watching as I lay my head down right next to her, so close our lips are brushing. At first she pulls away, assuming it’s a kiss, but I cup her face with a hand. “You know what to do.” I say softly.

Her eyes widen as she realizes what I’m setting her up for, and she sits up, pushing away. “No! It will hurt you, little witch; you were always sick after—”

I reach up, catching her shoulder and keeping her pulling too far away. “I know. It’ll leave me weak and sick for a while. But it might help bring back your tails — so let’s do it.”

She bites her lip, looking away, then back to me, wiping at her eyes and then touching my face. “You would do this for me?”

“I fought a goddess for you. This is not much harder than that.” I say, brushing her hair away from her eyes. “I want to see you happy again. I want to see you smile and laugh like you did before. If this is what helps you get your tails back, I’ll do it.”

She rubs her eyes with a palm again, lip still quivering. “Little witch, I… Jazel…” After a moment, she reluctantly shifts from where she’s sitting, slipping a leg over me so she can straddle me as she once did so long ago in the lab, and leans down, tentatively taking my face in her hands. “You will not hate me for this?”

“I am choosing this.” I murmur to her, stroking her face. “I have always given this on my own terms. From the night beneath the tree, til now. My gift to you, willingly given, not taken.”

She swallows hard, squeezing her eyes shut. “I am sorry, little witch.” she whispers, leaning forward to press her lips to mine. I tilt my head back a little to meet her, parting my lips as I feel her grip tighten on my throat, and I recognize the way she begins to breathe in, starting to coax something out from deep within my chest.

But unlike past encounters, this time is gentle and soft. There’s no struggle, no fighting or grappling with each other — if anything, I’m hanging onto her, concerned she might pull away too quickly. It’s a counterintuitive thing; my body can tell the soul is being siphoned from it, and is urging me to resist, to fight back and disengage, but I suppress it, even when my fingers start to shiver and my muscles start to twitch.

I think Kayenta can feel that, or sense it, because her hands move from my throat, up to cradle my face, stroking my cheeks, as if to soothe me while she continues to siphon fragments of my many lives from me. Even so, I can feel the tips of her fingers quivering, as if she was reluctant to do this even though she knows she has to; her appetite for this has faded, and I can feel her resolve starting to crumble as the stream of ancient memories starts to sputter and slow. She pulls a last sharp breath, pulling the air from my lungs along with a thick swirl of soul, then breaks away like she can’t stand to do more, leaving me wheezing and catching my breath as I feel weakness and a chill work its way through my body, sapping my body heat.

But I feel something flitting over the tops of my knees, and it isn’t my own tail.

“Little witch… little feast…” Kayenta murmurs as she leans back down, taking my face again, tears in her eyes — some strange combination of guilt and excitement and joy on her face.

“Did it work?” I rasp, curling my shaking fingers around one of her wrists, hanging on to help stabilize myself.

“It did. It came back. One tail. It doesn’t hurt anymore…” She stops to kiss my nose and then nuzzle me, her voice wavering. “I am so happy. I am so sorry… I feel so many things right now, I don’t know what to feel. I feel joy; I am sorrowful; I love you but I feel bad for what I have done to you…”

“Only one? You need the rest of your tails—” I begin.

“No.” she says immediately, silencing me with a kiss, then brushing a thumb over my eyebrow as she locks eyes with me. “This is enough for now. I can’t take more from you right now; it would hurt you too much. This is enough. I have a tail again; I do not have to hide from others now.” She rests her forehead against mine, running her fingers through my hair and up over one of my ears. “You have given me back so much, my Jazel, my little witchling…”

I let out a weak little chuckle, too spent to try and move anywhere else. “Not so little anymore… m’taller than you now, y’know…”

“You will always be my little witch.” she murmurs, still brushing her fingers through my hair. “It does not matter that you have changed; you are mine. You have kept me. I will keep you.” With that, she brushes her cheek over mine, then nuzzles my neck, as if taking my temperature. “You are cold. I will keep you warm while you recover.”

“It was worth it, to see you happy again…”

“Shhh. Close your eyes, and rest. You have taken care of me all this time, given me back what I lost… now I will take care of you.”