The salt cellars run beneath the walls of Xylia, tracing her borders amongst the roots of the Great Tree. They mark Her foundations, run parallel to Her walls and aetherways. They carve order out of the Wilds, fix the Grove in place, and make way for Xylia’s kin to build Her city.
And excavate Her prisons.
Chains on her wrists and ankles, garbed in nothing but a ragged white dress, L is marched down the earthen corridors by eight brutish trolls. The polished granite on either side gives way to glittering white crystal, shimmering and fading to semi-translucence. Through them, L can see the veins of aether flowing around and beneath her. Their glow is refracted and amplified through the salt, washing away the dark more effectively than any lantern. The deeper they go, the brighter it gets.
Her descent ends at a hollowed-out cistern. At the very centre of the chamber is a white ring - a mosaic of salt tiles, set into the floor. One of the trolls pulls a lever, and the ring splits apart with a grinding thud. Another pushes her inside, letting her stumble to the floor as the lever is released. The mosaic slides back into place. L can feel a sudden electrical tingle in the air, the invisible barrier springing to life all around her. She doesn’t even have enough room to spread her wings. The guards depart, quick to get away, and the chamber door closes behind them.
She should be panicking. Screaming. Crying, even. But instead, a cold calm has settled over her. The threat of discovery had hovered above her from the beginning. Now that it’s out in the open, she feels… lighter. And she has a hunch that Xylia won’t be continuing the Festival as planned. Not with these secrets dragged into the light. There will be questions. Accusations.
But hunch or not, the longer she waits, the harder it is to hold onto that hope. Time is tenuous here at best, but buried beneath the Tree…
She waits for hours. Minutes. Days. There’s no way to tell.
What if she’s wrong? What if they hold the Passage anyway, will she even realise? Will she feel the fabric of time lurch forward? Will she feel somewhere, in another world, far beyond her reach…
…Ian, paying the price?
"L...?"
She straightens up, anxious thoughts drifting away to pile at her feet. Astraea stands at the cistern’s entrance, wrists chained and flanked by two surly spriggans. The guards shove her into the room, slamming the door behind her. She regains her footing a few feet from the mosaic. L twists around to face her, all but leaning against her invisible cage.
“Astraea! Are you alright? What’s happening up there?"
"It’s chaos. The dryadists are in an uproar. They're demanding.... They're..." Astraea steadies herself, struggling upright. "Sister Fili is arguing for immediate exile to Annwyn, but Helios knows that's what we want. So he's… he’s insisting that - ”
She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Unable to continue, leaving L to finish for her.
“He won’t let me go."
She stares down at the white circle until the pattern of the grains feel burnt into her eyes. "Is the ceremony delayed?"
"Yes. For now.”
L lets the relief rush through her, but in its wake, it only leaves a host of further questions. She can’t bring herself to voice them. Astraea breaks the silence by raising her wrists.
"I never should have come looking for you.” She smiles sadly at her golden cuffs, watching frost creep around her wrists, tracing patterns over the links. “If I’d never found you, none of this would have happened. You’d be with Ian. You’d still have your life in London."
“I’d be at a dead-end job, scared breathless because my mate might ask me out.” L shakes her head, pressing her hands against the barrier. "Astraea, I don’t regret this."
"You're wrong."
“Astraea - ”
"They’re going to kill you!" She slams her fists against the barrier, startling L back. Astraea recoils just as quickly, clutching her hands against her chest. “Oh, darkness, L - I-I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Astraea, it’s okay. Don’t apologise.” Slowly, L approaches again, pushing against the barrier. Astraea’s struggling to keep herself from crying. If she could just reach her, if she can just touch her, she’s sure she could get her to understand.
"Why not? What good have I ever done for you?”
“You risked your life for me, over and over. With Cadogan, the King. You got me here."
“That’s true.” Astraea’s eyes go flat as she looks around the cistern. "I got you here."
L winces. “It isn’t over yet.”
"Evander’s preparing the Great Hall for your trial. There's nothing I can do. The only reason I’m even allowed to see you is because they still think you’re my Kept, but after this - "
One last time. A Keeper’s privilege.
L offers a bleak laugh.
“I'm guessing they're still not letting anyone get a look at that reliquary. Wonder what safe they've locked it in now.” Astraea gives L a strange look. “Sorry. I-it’s like a metal box with a code - “
“I know what a safe is... but... The story they're telling is that you have the reliquary.”
“It... what?”
Astraea looks over her shoulder, dropping her voice to an urgent murmur. “Helios said he left it in the historic office, but when they searched it, it wasn’t there.”
“It what?!”
“Yes. He's trying to blame you.”
L nods, her wings flicking anxiously. What will they do if she can’t produce it? “It was there. I held it in my hands. I could feel it. And he left it right on the - “
A cold, electric thrill trickles up L's spine.
The shadows as they left.
That smile in the dark.
The key on the balcony. Pieces starting to fit together to a puzzle she didn’t know she had.
"Find Puck." She blurts out.
"Puck...?" Astraea looks baffled. "But he’s - “
“Missing?” Astraea nods. L clamps down on the feeling in her heart. It’s tearing through her calm, sending it away in tatters. It feels too close to hope. "Helios said he saw him at the ceremony. He was so smug, I don't think he was lying. So if Puck is still out there, and the reliquary’s gone…”
Astraea sucks in her breath, glancing back to the closed door. "I'll have someone find him. I'll make sure of it."
"I trust you." L says, pressing harder against the barrier. If she could only touch her. “Just…make sure they do it quickly.”
“They’ll do it now.” Astraea turns to leave. The feeling wraps around L’s heart and squeezes.
“W-wait!”
“Yes?” Astraea stops.
L meets her eyes, and the squeeze releases, leaving her heart free and soaring. There’s so many things she’s realised about Astraea, little things that have stayed with her. The way her hair always announces her feelings, the curve of her nose. The perpetually earnest demeanor, so quick to find the wonder in life. She’d had so many chances to understand. The day she bought her first song. Rescuing her from Spencer’s estate. Confronting the King. Searching through her memories. Putting everything on the line to come back here.
So many times to accept what all this meant to her. How she really felt about Astraea.
But now...
“...thank you. For everything.”
Astraea offers a distant smile in response, frost settling on her lips. "I would do anything for you, L."
She lingers a moment more, then turns and knocks at the door, waiting to be led away. 
"We are here to witness the trial of the nymph Lyra, accused of concealing her humanity with intent to spread the ideological contagion of Annwyn."
Octavia's voice cuts through the court. She stands perched on Evander’s knee, while he lingers on his throne. Dryads throng the stands, watching intently, attended by nymphs adorned with masks and golden shackles. Four enormous mirrors hang above the court, projecting the accused for all to see.
L is alone at the very centre of Xylia's amphitheatre, her own shackles binding her to a stand of knotted roots. Light-headed, her heart pounding, she searches for friendly faces among a sea of hostility. It’s easy to pick them out; they cluster in knots and wear grave expressions. Fili is at the head of the largest group, accompanied by a perfectly still Astraea. L can’t read her expression from this distance, but she certainly doesn’t hold herself as if she’s hopeful.
There’s no sign of Puck.
"How does the nymph plead?" Octavia’s demand cracks through her thoughts. L can feel her mind trying to pull her away, that blizzard of static trying to crowd out everything else. Part of her wants to just curl up on the ground and wait for it to be over, but she forces herself into action. One movement, one decision, at a time.
Step forward.
Breathe in.
Open her mouth.
And say
"... not guilty."
Silence. Then a flurry of animated discussion whips through the stands. Two younger dryads start to laugh. Octavia rattles her wings, the shrill sound demanding silence.
"What is the meaning of this, human?" The mantis-nymph hisses at her. "Do you deny that which we can see with our very eyes?"
L leans forward, resting her hands on the podium. Feels the rough texture of the roots. Breathes in the earthy notes of the bark.
Stay here. She needs to stay here, in this moment. Feel what she’s feeling. Use it. Don’t run. Don’t disappear. Just. Stay.
"B-because…” L breathes in again. “I'm not Lyra."
"You wore her skin.” Octavia snaps. “You still wear her wings. You take up as Astraea's Kept. If you are not Lyra, then who or what have we been dealing with?"
L walks to the end of her chain, scanning the audience again, now looking exclusively for the satyr. Shifting from face to face. He’s not there. She needs to buy time. Time for them to coax him out of wherever he’s hiding.
"My name is L. And yes, I am… part… human. But I’m part nymph, too. I didn't come here to commit crimes. I came here to figure out who I was. Who I am now. And… to find out if…this is where I belong.”
The thought blossoms in her mind as she speaks, but even then, she knows it’s true. It wasn’t just answers she was looking for. Part of her hoped that coming here, seeing this place, being seen for what she was, she would finally fit someplace. She would finally make sense somewhere. In that simple way.
"When I first arrived, there was so much attention on me. It was…frightening, but a little exhilarating. I wasn’t sure what to make of it all. But then the novelty wore off. For me. For you. And when I was just another nymph, I saw what that meant here. Lady Astraea, the other nymphs in the Rookery… and Puck…”
…who is still nowhere to be found…
“They helped me to feel seen. To feel like myself. To everyone else, I was an ornament. An animal to be broken. Used. Tormented. Cast away.”
"Humanist heresy." Octavia clicks her claws together. "Nymphs are valued and protected, sheltered here against the chaos of the Wilds. Do you see any of us demanding to be cast out into the dark?"
"Yes, I did." L says, anger she didn’t know she had flaring through her.
Sister. Sister.
She jabs her finger into the audience, even as her chain pulls her up short. "And Lord Helios jammed a mask over her face to silence her!"
The mirrors turn, pulling Helios into their reflections and broadcasting it for all of Xylia. He stands smoothly and with confidence, basking in it.
"She’s speaking of a Wilds nymph, a feral creature that interrupted our Songbird hunt. The creature attacked us, and I chose to take her into our fold. I thought this an act of compassion.” A murmur of assent runs through much of the audience. Others scowl or turn away. Helios smiles smugly, raising an eyebrow. “You aren’t suggesting that I should have… killed her, are you?”
L clenches her teeth. "Oh, I have a suggestion - "
“How emotional.” Helios’s smile spreads into a vicious grin, basking in her helpless outrage. “...as always.”
L forces herself to turn to the wider audience. "She saw me chained and hurt! She came to help. And for that, he struck her in the back and dragged her away screaming! Is that compassion among dryads? Is that kindness in Xylia?"
She spreads her wings wide, flashing red spots.
"We could ask her. March down to whatever dungeon you’re breaking her in right now and let her speak. But I know many of you don't care, and the ones that do already know - “
"Enough."
Octavia leaps from Evander’s knee as he leans forward, catching herself with her wings before she lands.
"This is not a pulpit from which to preach, child. It is a place of inquiry and judgement.” His face furrows and creaks, gnarling like an ancient oak. “Is it not true that you came to us under false pretences?"
L breathes in, forcing her hands to stop shaking. "Yes." She rasps. "It was the only way."
Evander nods gravely. "Because you had your own secret purposes for being here. Ones you kept from us. And is it not also true that you are human? That you do not share our ideals?"
She can feel the shift against her. Whatever she had in her favor was quickly draining away. L scans the audience as long as she dares, desperate for a flash of devilish horns. A turn of a mischievous tail. But still nothing.
"Yes."
"Good. Very good, Lyra. And finally... is it not true that your original intent was to uncover a secret? About yourself? About your past?"
L nods. Evander releases a heavy sigh. "I have kept this hidden for too long."
Evander’s words sweep through the audience like a winter wind. Silent and rapt with attention. Even L finds herself falling still. Evander turns away from her, lets his gaze fall along his subjects.
"I have a confession. One that should clarify all of this.”
L holds her breath.
She’s had it all wrong. Evander really was an ally. And now she’s -
“It is known that it was my ruling to allow Sister Astraea to take a Wilds nymph as her Kept - and more, to entertain the idea of elevating her to the status of Consort, despite the controversy of such…irregular behaviour. But I am afraid it is more than that."
He places his hand on his chest, the cloud of nymphs in his branches shifting as he lowers his head.
"I was the one to first discover Sister Astraea and Lyra together, in the Wilds. I was the one to suggest the union. I gave them my blessing, and offered my quiet support in the years that were to follow.”
Silence. Fili glances down to Astraea, who turns away, shame-faced.
“At the time…” Evander starts again, “I thought of it as an offering to those among us who disagree with the old ways. To remind them that we are still brothers and sisters. But this… this was my mistake.
“Far from uniting us, I now understand it has sown further division. We have seen the disastrous outcome of the privileges Astraea granted her nymph, the way her sudden departure tortured her. And now, conspiracy. Theft. Sedition. It was I who welcomed the darkness into our light, and it was I who allowed it to fester. With this new wisdom, I see only one way forward: return to our traditions. To remember ourselves, and in so doing capture our former glory. No longer humanists and dryadists, but one people! Purified and undivided once more!"
Helios and a great many others surge to their feet, already applauding over the end of Evander’s speech. Even some of Fili’s allies look uncertain.
At the center of the hall, L reels. The static is fighting to win over, and she’s having a difficult time remaining here, her story closing right before her eyes. All her lines of inquiry that felt so damning a moment ago turning to ash with Father Evander’s admission. What more does she have to -
"But why did Lyra leave?"
She blurts out, standing as still as she can. Looks up, and finds Evander staring down at her, pinning her in place with his gaze. It steals her breath, but she forces her way forward. "What happened that night?"
Evander smiles, the heat in his eyes softening in sympathy. "I do not know. I am afraid the only one who does is you, child."
Which would mean that no one did. The memory is simply…lost, swallowed by the rotten pages of Lyra’s reliquary. L clings to the roots, trying to steady herself. If only Puck were here. If only they had found him. If only she had been right.
But none of that helps her. He’s nowhere to be found. Despite this being the most fascinating thing to be happening in Xylia for potentially millennia, Puck is somehow not here. It doesn’t make any sense. He thrives on disruption, lives for the chance to make -
A scene.
L’s eyes widen. Her head snaps up, and she takes in the room with new eyes. Everyone holding their breath, sitting on the edge of their seats. Their attention fixed.
A perfect audience, waiting for the perfect moment.
“PUCK!” L shouts, her voice cracking and echoing around the amphitheatre. Everyone stares at her like she’s lost her mind. “Stop playing around!”
Silence.
“UGH! You’re such a spoilsport, L.”
Puck clambers out from behind a buttress, letting his legs dangle. The mirrors turn to focus on him and he pulls a face, magnifying his silly expression to titanic proportions.
“D-do you…” L holds her breath, trying to calm down. “Do you have it?”
Puck leans forward, grinning hungrily. “I wanted to add a little something to it for dramatic effect. Now when we see it, we can all experience it like we’re really there.”
“But you - ”
“Yes.” He wags a finger “No spoilers! All of Xylia gets to see this for themselves!”
“Puck, we are holding a trial. What is this foolishness?” Octavia interrupts, her claws raising in outrage. Behind her, Evander begins to creak ominously, rising from his seat. “See what?”
Puck blinks, then reaches down to his hiding place, dragging out the great velvet-bound book with a distinct lack of care. He licks his thumb and opens it to a dog-eared page, then lifts the reliquary face-out. Magnified for all to see.
“Why, see this.”
Thunder cracks and rain sheets down, cutting through the canopy and winding its way to the forest floor. Flashes of aether spark wherever the droplets strike the leaves, ricocheting off the branches and into the dark. It’s the only sound to disturb the silence of the forest floor, save for the reverberations of titanic footsteps.
The Wilds know when to be silent.
Evander passes through the darkwood, his eyes clouded and far-away. A coughing, retching sound near his hip brings him back to the moment. Reaching down, he releases the clasp holding the gilded cage on his belt, and lifts it to eye level.
"You stir, little one?"
Lyra sprawls across the floor, brutalised and breathing shallowly. She hacks up another great surge of golden aether, light splashing across the metal floor.
"D-don’t… Ast…" she starts, but breaks into a coughing fit.
"Shhh. Don't strain yourself, child. Perhaps I handled you too…roughly when you drank of my aether, but you shouldn't have tried to fly. We both bear the blame for that." Evander continues deeper into the wood, shadows fleeing in every direction. "For this.”
“...w-why… are you… doing this?” Lyra attempts to brace herself, but slips and bangs against the bars behind her. She lets out a pained groan. “You helped us."
"I believed I had." Evander shoulders aside a half-fallen tree, clearing his path and letting it crash to the forest floor. "But I fear that as your teacher I delivered the wrong message."
“...message..?”
“I suppose it will do no harm to teach you your purpose now.” Evander sighs and halts. Within the cage, Lyra’s wings go still. "... do you know how to eradicate an infestation?"
The nymph stares at him through the bars, frozen. Uncomprehending. After a moment. he continues off-handedly, as though explaining to an animal.
"Ants. Termites. You can crush a few, but they continue to emerge, chewing away at the roots. They hide in the walls of your home, consuming and breeding until the only option left is fire. Turn it all to ash and salt and start anew somewhere else.”
Evander goes grave, his expression severe.
“Filandra and her…vermin cannot see the damage their gnawing does to us. She does not understand how she dooms the saplings that flock to her. I mourned their actions, but feared the inevitable, and had already set the necessary steps in motion…ah, but the Wilds had other plans. I was offered another path.”
He smiles, warm and wistful, running a finger along the bars of the cage. Caressing them as he points. “I met you.”
“Me?” Lyra stares out at him, wild-eyed.
“Yes. You see…” He holds up a finger, “Removing an infestation requires only that one kill the queen. In a matter of cycles, the entire colony follows her into the grave. The matter resolves quietly, and the structure survives. Of course, I could have killed Filandra at any point. I had many opportunities, but she is not the true queen. She is still a follower of the ideal. Extinguishing her would only serve to incite the nest.
“No, what we needed wasn’t a leader, but an embodiment of the ideal. A truth I did not see until the day I came across you and Sister Astraea in the darkwood. I saw it in that moment. I could not find the queen, but I could create her. And to that end, you played your role well in all ways but one.”
He begins walking again, setting the cage swaying. “Can you guess what that one way was?”
“I - “ Lyra answers, baffled. The sentence dissolves in another fit of coughing. Evander waits, patient as the forest itself. She straightens up, wiping golden ichor from her lips, her voice small and ragged. "Is this…because they fear me..?”
Evander rumbles out a slow, exasperated laugh, shaking his head. “Even now, you don’t see it.”
“What was - “
“You were to kill Sister Astraea, Lyra.” Evander snaps. “You were to be taken into her confidence and slash her throat. Take her eyes. Spill her viscera across the floor.”
"K-kill... Ast...raea?" Lyra’s throat struggles to get the words out. “...n...never. I said, 'Never hurt her."”
"Heart of blood and brambles,” The dryad shakes the cage. Lyra grabs for the bars, clinging desperately. “I have seen it a thousand times before! Why should it be any different with you? And at this, such a crucial moment."
The cage swings to a stop. Lyra remains frozen, clinging in place.
"... will you kill me?"
“Kill you? No, no, no. That’s far too easy to discover. Too simple to unravel with a reliquary. I have other plans.” He smiles slowly, almost benignly. “You will disappear."
Lyra steps back, the shadows of the bars falling across her face in dappled patterns. “You are forcing me back into the Wilds.”
He lowers the cage, splashing through a stream that barely wets his toes. “I? I had nothing to do with it. It will be the wind whispering to you from the dark that drew you. Your nature took hold, and you followed its call, as you should have from the beginning.”
"But Astraea - “
“Tragically, you stole away while she slept, leaving our sister heartbroken. In your absence, she will wither and fade. A tragic warning. The wraith haunting our halls. The end of Filandra’s ruinous ideals.”
“No. No!” All at once, Lyra’s back at the bars, pulling at them as if she could rip them from their settings. “I wouldn’t leave her! She knows I would never!” She flaps her wings wildly, battering herself against the walls penning her in. “I will go back! I will stay!!"
“You won’t.”
“I will! I know this wood, I remember the way - “
“Which is why I am not leaving you with your memories. Or in this wood, for that matter. Here we are.”
Evander stops and kneels among the roots, setting the cage down and brushing away the undergrowth. In front of them lies a circle of mushrooms. Something about the air within seems still. Rain trickles down from the tree above, vanishing into it before it strikes the soil.
“A fairy circle.” Lyra presses herself back into the cage, staring out at the clearing. “Annwyn.”
“Yes.” Evander's face smooths again, the picture of serene understanding. He unlatches the cage, swinging the door open. "Step forward, Lyra."
Her wings twitch. Blur. She darts out, twisting in midair to avoid his hand, skimming over the grass as she heads for the trees -
“Stop.”
Golden aether burns within Lyra’s veins, splintering through her eyes as her pupils dilate. She freezes, crashing into the ground, tumbling end over end in a bruising roll. Evander's hand closes roughly around her. The compulsion ends at his touch; Lyra scrabbles and claws and bites, but his skin is too thick, his flesh impervious.
She lets out a tormented shriek, her voice echoing through the wood in a sudden wild display of light, setting the bars of the discarded cage ringing. Lyra screams and screams until her throat is raw, hoping against hope that in the distant glow of Xylia, Astraea will hear it.
"Enough." Evander commands, sets her down before the fairy circle, and her wail cuts off. "Consider your exile a mercy."
Lyra stands where she's placed, shivering and trembling. Tears run down her cheeks like falling rain.
“...please. Father Evander. P-please… don’t hurt Astraea like this. D-don’t let this be her last memory of me. Please I - ” Lyra grasps at her chest. “I love her.”
“Impossible.”
“But - “
"You are caprice and hunger in the shape of an insect. Such a thing is beyond your capabilities.” Evander smiles gently, pressing a finger against Lyra's forehead. "Hush now, little one. This is the kindest act I can do for you both. Astraea was always a frail, dim little sapling. But as chaff, she will serve as kindling for a cleansing fire."
His eyes blaze. Liquid light surges through Lyra's veins, pressure creaking at her skull. Memories igniting into an inferno.
"Farewell, Lyra, daughter of the Wilds. Pass beyond our borders with my blessing."
Evander gives her a gentle push.
"Never return."
The amphitheatre is silent. Xylia seems to hold Her breath. Puck lowers the book, looking around apprehensively, as if he’s suddenly understood the magnitude of what he’s done.
Evander chuckles softly, waving away the last of the misty images. The light in his eyes has gone a cold, blank white.
"And after all of that..." He says, "The queen evades me still. Perhaps this is cleaner after all.”
The air stirs, pressure building in the room. L’s ears pop and a charge crackles across her skin. The world slows to a crawl. Starkly bright aether runs up Evander’s wrist in a killing nimbus, wrapping around his arm and gathering in his palm.
flinging her arms around her mother, her father rushing in to join the hug
I̴'̶m̴
Light flares around her as ...
Ian sitting side by side with her on the roof of the Glade, tossing chips to alp-luachra
s̵o̴
...the elder dryad lowers his hand
Astraea fumbling with a broken virtual pet, trying to learn how to feed it
s̸o̶r̵r̵y̷
And snaps his fingers.
The blast is immense and final, blowing past her with the ferocity of a hurricane, scorching the very stones she stands upon and sending pulverised debris flying into the air.
The afterimages sear her vision. Her senses flood with smoke and ozone. Somehow still alive. L tugs at her chains, heaving for breath, trying to make sense of it all. A glowing portal hovers in the air at her left, Fili hobbling through, her brows creased in anger. And before the platform, standing between her and Lord Evander, arms outstretched, a shield blossoming in a dazzling corona between her hands…
…is Astraea.
"You knew..." She says, her breath trembling with fury. Eyes wide. Arms coursing with energy as she stares up at her King. "You... knew!! ALL THIS TIME YOU KNEW."
Evander's blank face cracks. “Yes, child.”
“How could you?”
“Because, child.” He begins slowly. “There are always those few who, standing taller than the others, must see further for us a- “
The blast lances across his forearm, scorching his sleeve and splattering molten gold across the back of his throne. Evander looks at the smouldering mark in pure shock, before turning to the source, high up in the stands.
It’s the young dryad from the Gleaning, his hand shaking, anxious tears welling at the corners of his eyes. He’s standing in the middle of a group of Fili’s supporters. Some have half-risen. The room holds its breath.
Without a word, Helios whips around and launches a blast of his own, and the sapling tumbles back, burning.
The court erupts into chaos.
Beams of aether crisscross the amphitheatre, striking down dryads where they stand. Those nymphs that can take to the air, screaming in panic; those who cannot shelter behind seats. Fili’s spriggans surge through the portal in a wave, locking spears and shields to meet the charge of Evander’s guards.
“Get out of here!” Fili yells, a chip of charred marble buzzing past her ear as she rises into her full form. "Make your way to the- "
Astraea’s shield flickers under direct blows from three different directions, cracks of brighter light running through it. With a growl, Fili throws up her hands, conjuring a new shield underneath it as it shatters.
"Make your way to the portal! Don’t wait! Just leave!”
Astraea grips L's hands, her own hands glowing golden, and the manacles evaporate into nothing. L rubs her wrists, breathing rapidly as the battle washes around them. Her wings are already beating as if they've taken on a life of their own.
"I can get us there." L says, her voice wavering.
“I know you will.” Astraea replies, her gaze steady, her eyes bright and serious. L’s face blazes as she scoops her up, one arm under her legs and the other behind her back. Xylia thrums under her feet and her wings thrum with it, sending them darting into the air, flickering with the pulse of the Great Tree amidst the screams and chaos.
"I'm so sorry, sprout!" Fili cries up to Astraea. Another blast of light illuminates her, washing off of her shield. "If I’d known, I would have…I’m so sorry to you both!"
"Just survive!" L calls back, hovering above the root stand. "He’s coming for all of us!“
Evander roars, swats aside a dryad and levels a hand at L from across the room. A burst of light cracks past her, obliterating the stand of knotted roots. Her wings flash and she's gone, humming back toward the great gates, clutching Astraea tight. A pair of guards are dragging them shut, but they’re too heavy, and L’s moving too quickly. She’s through just as they slam together, soaring out across the bridge and into the city.
Moments later, the doors crash open once again. L risks a quick look over her shoulder and her heart skips a beat. Nymphs boil out of the Tree, shrieking furiously. Octavia lunges from the pack, her claws snapping out. Astraea throws out a hand just in time, and the mantis-nymph rebounds from her shield, spiralling off into the dark.
"That way!" She yells above the cacophony, pointing toward the southeastern gate.
L angles her body, taking them lower as another nymph spears out from the pack. She ducks through an arch, wincing as their pursuer thumps off the side. She isn't sure if it's the adrenaline or the magic, but Astraea's light in her arms. Her heart flutters and she lets it whisper the promise that they’re going to make it.
All around them, bells begin to chime, filling the air with a deep, brassy clamour. Astraea tucks herself in tighter, her eyes glowing as she focuses on shielding them. Nymphs are swooping in every few seconds now, just flashes of wings and talons before they skid away.
L goes lower, almost skimming against the ground. She tenses and makes a sharp turn around a building, flickering down a narrow alley, kicking off against a window ledge to push them back into the sky.
The portal gardens are just ahead. She can see Thiar's massive form lumber as he moves beyond the archways. Spriggans clamber over him like ants as he swings his arms in giant arcs, sending guards flying in every direction. She angles toward him, her heart in her mouth, her antennae screaming warnings at each shriek and scuffle from behind.
"Oh gods, Thiar!!" Astraea cries. At the sound of her voice, he lifts his head, glowing with the furnace of his mechanisms. Something flashes in his eyes, and the last spriggans clinging to him are flung away by a pulse of aether. L hits the ground just behind him, skidding and stumbling a few metres away from the portal archway. Nodding to them both, Thiar moves to block the coming swarm.
Astraea drops to her feet, her hair turning the red and brown of dying leaves. She reaches down, then lifts, her hands rising to the sky. Great roots burst through the marble, toppling and crushing pillars as they form a dome over themselves and the portal. Something cracks against the barrier - an unseen nymph scraping at the bark, hissing and spitting. Another body crashes against it - then another, and another, clinging as they land bending the makeshift wall with their weight.
“H-hurry!" Astraea yells over her shoulder. “Grab Neith II and I’ll open the way!”
L’s already running over to the archway. Her bag's leaning up against it, small and rumpled.
"It's okay, nibblemonster, we're here - " She throws open the flap.
There's no sign of the alp-luachra. A few folded bits of cloth have been ripped open, breadcrumbs scattered over her clothes. L blinks, looking around frantically. More crumbs are scattered across the ground, leading beyond the barrier.
Off toward the trees.
"...you heard it too." L whispers around the lump in her throat. "W-we brought you home."
"What’s wrong?” Astraea calls, her voice tight.
"I-I think Neith II heard the Call."
Astraea freezes, taking in the abandoned pack.
“...oh, L. I’m so - “
Something cracks. A talon forces its way through one of the roots, tearing viciously at the wood. L's breath seizes.
Her eyes burning, Astraea turns to the portal, her outline fading away into amorphous, liquid gold. She extends her arm, crackling syllables echoing deep within her. The portal sparks into violent life, illegible runes flaring into being around the arch. Energy arches and snaps, and Astraea collapses backwards, her shape half-formed and flickering. Her hair goes from autumn to black, flaking away like a dying tree.
L grabs Astraea, helping her keep on her feet.
"It's okay! You did it! Come on, just a f-few steps - " She smiles through her tears, pulling Astraea after her. Without warning, Astraea shoves her away. L looks up, confused. There’s something at once fierce and fearful about the dryad. Her head hangs low, fist clutched to her chest. L can feel the portal pulling at her from behind.
"Astraea?"
"I still remember that first day we met." She blurts out, her speech hurried and halting. Forcing each word. Astraea forces a rigid smile, coal-black hair falling across her face. "You were just sitting there. Injured. Looking so alone. I was so excited. I thought… maybe… we could be friends."
"We… of course we’re friends!" L stammers, confused. "Astraea, we have to go!"
She takes a step towards her. Astraea puts her hand up and takes an equal step back.
"And then you came to Xylia. It was so hard on you, all of it. But we were happy. We were… I'm... so happy to know what really happened, how you really felt. That you didn't leave because you h-hated me."
Another crack. Someone’s ripping at the barrier, bodily tearing away vine and root. Astraea glances nervously at it, and L takes the opportunity to lunge forward. They grapple, but Astraea breaks free, keeping distance.
“Astraea, why are you fighting me?”
“But that wasn’t you, was it! You weren’t Lyra, you were - and I made so many mistakes! So. Many. Mistakes!”
“It’s okay, Astraea. You didn’t know!” L can feel her heart in her mouth. There’s a deep, yawning pit in her stomach, opening over the bitter adrenaline coursing through her. “We’re past all that!“
Astraea coughs, golden vapor trailing from her mouth. “Thanks to you, I know that she loved me, right to the end.”
“P-please. Astraea, you’re scaring me. Let’s just…let’s just go! The door is right there!” She reaches out again. No salt barrier this time. No one to hide from and nothing to stop them, if only Astraea will let her. L’s braced for another push back, but it never happens. Her hand settles on Astraea’s shoulder. L smiles, and hopes it’s reassuring. “We can go home.”
“Yes.” Astraea stands a little straighter, smiles a little softer. "Yes. Because, see, I worked it out. At the roundtable. When I saw your face. When you decided.”
“Astraea - “
Her words slow, her breath grows steady. “That’s when I realised.”
“Astraea - “
She puts a finger to L’s lips, and pulls in close, touching their foreheads. “How to protect you. How to make things right.”
Astraea leans forward and kisses L on the cheek, her hands lingering on L’s shoulders a moment more. “Thank you, L. For giving my life meaning again.”
The wall groans and splits. Dark shapes begin to spill through the cracks. L draws in a hiss of breath, tensing. In that moment, Astraea’s grip tightens.
"Goodbye."
"Astraea, wait! Don't - "
Astraea shoves her back. L shouts, wings spreading as she falls, the light behind her grabbing hold and drawing her in, before Astraea and the world are swallowed in a blaze of -
Rough cobble. Curious voices. Air that tastes wet and warm and earthy.
L sprawls at the foot of the Market’s stairs, dazed and confused. It takes her a moment to orient herself. She looks up in time to see the glowing letters fading away. Pushes to her feet as the last words vanish.
And the door to Xylia - and Astraea - winks out of existence.
continue reading ->
TT^TT
I have been imagining this Astraea moment for actual years at this point. Anytime this song would come up on my playlist. I would think of this moment. I hope it was as heartbreaking for you as it's been for me. This broken, well meaning, flickering light.
Check back for what can only be more good things for L on Friday, February 7th at 12p EST to find out what happens next!
And thanks for stopping by!
-Heart
PS For everyone calling for blood in the Grove, this chapter is specifically for you 😌