Valiant: Tales From The Archive

[CURSEd #28: Avvi, Avvi]

Log Date: 12/11/12764

Data Sources: Ilyana Kemaim, Darrow Bennion

Event Log: Ilyana Kemaim

Avvikerene: The Decadent Forest

9:12pm SGT

“Whisper, do you think you can calm her down?”

The words grate on my nerves. I know they shouldn’t, but they do. Even if Dare’s asking for help, there’s a dozen smarmy or biting retorts that jump to mind, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying them. Every instinctual response would be manifestly unhelpful, and I have to take a moment, and a few deep breaths through the ragged stretch of cloth tied over the bottom half of my face.

In the cave behind me, Kwyn groans, and there’s the scraping sound of armor plates over rocks and dirt as she rolls from side to side on her back, then curls up again. Ever since we escaped from Sundew, she’s been struggling in a major way, to the point that she’s almost a liability. The mindscape did a real number on her, and that, combined with her continuous exposure to the forest’s humid stew of airborne agents, is putting her in what I can only assume is a difficult mental state.

“Whisper—” Dare starts again.

“I can’t help her, Dare.” I snap over my shoulder at him. “There are flowers in this part of the forest that are in bloomed recently; their pollen is used in high-strength amor potions, and she’s been breathing that shit for most of the day. She’s experiencing what it’s like for vashy and Halfie females to go into heat. She’ll just have to deal with it.”

Dare doesn’t say anything back, at least not right away. I feel bad for snapping at him like that, but my patience is absolutely microscopic at this point, and I’m irritable. Quiet falls again for a spell, and I remain perched at the entrance of the low cave we’re in, watching the glowing forest beyond for any encroaching natives. The only sound is of Kwyn twitching and rocking on the ground, shuffling her legs back and forth.

“You’ve been breathing the same stuff all day, haven’t you?” Dare asks eventually.

My jaw locks up again, and I fight back the instinct to snap at him again. Once the surge of irritation has faded, I answer, though I can’t keep the terseness out of my voice. “I have, yes. And before you ask why I’m not rolling around on the ground having a slow-motion meltdown like she is, it’s because I’m wereckanan, and wereckanan women do go into heat under the right conditions, so I know what it’s like, and I know what Kwyn’s going through because I feel the exact same way right now, and I’m horny as hell, but I’ve learned to deal with it, and I feel sorry for the kid, I really do, but she’s going to have to learn to deal with it too.”

Dare’s awkward silence only lasts a few seconds. “This is more than just ‘horny’—”

I shove up from my rock, twisting around and marching back into the cave, ducking to keep myself from getting brained on the low ceiling. Reaching Dare, who’s still decked out in his Axiom armor, I grab his helm and yank it to face me, leaning in until I’m barely more than a couple inches from his optics. “Darrow Bennion, you have no idea what real horny looks like. You are human and you humans breed like goddamn rats. Your species is fertile year-round. You do not have heat and rut cycles like the hybrid races do; you do not know what it is like for the flower moon to hit like a runaway truck on a steep hill and have your body suddenly throw all other prerogatives out the window except for the need to breed. You think Kent is horny? You think I was horny for taking a roll with a different recruit every few weeks a couple years back? That is nothing compared to this, and controlling it is not as simple as taking a cold shower or thinking of doing your taxes. The reason Kwyn is lying on the ground, curled up like that, is because she is fighting an overriding, burning, primal need to mate with me, and then with you, and then with me again, and you know how I know this? Because I’m dealing with the exact same thing right now, except with regards to you.”

I can’t see Dare’s face behind his helm, but I can only imagine his expression right now. I let go of his helm, turning and marching back to the entrance of the cave, and he only replies right as I’m getting there. “So should I… like… not be near her? Would that make it easier?”

“No. You stay there.” I order as I sit back down. “You stay there, because you being there keeps her away from me, and also keeps you away from me, and you can hold her down if she starts trying to get close to me. You’re the only one with a functioning filtration system at this point, so you’re the only one that’s not having their pituitary gland squeezed like it’s hormone sponge.”

“Okay.” There’s the sound of dirt and rocks gritting as Dare shifts and gets more comfortable where he is. “I don’t think it was this bad earlier? When we were traveling?”

“It’s easier to ignore when you’re up and doing something.” I say, finding a good place to plant my boots so I can lean my forearms on my knees. “Less bandwidth to think about it when you’re keeping your mind and body busy. But when you’re sitting still, there’s nothing to distract you, and it’s hard to get your mind off it.”

“Should we get up and keep moving, then?” Dare asks. “We could cover some more distance and maybe Kwyn could walk it off…”

“No. It’s too dangerous to travel at night, and we need to rest.” I grunt, rubbing a knuckle against my forehead. “Trust me, I want to get this over with as much as you do, but if we run ourselves into the ground, we might not make it out of the forest.”

“I’m not a doctor, but Kwyn doesn’t look like she’s getting any rest like this.” Dare says as Kwyn lets off a miserable little moan. “Will we be able to get out of range of these flowers when we’re hiking tomorrow?”

“I don’t know.” I say, looking up towards the dark canopy. “But it’s going to rain tonight, and when it does, it’ll clear the air of the pollen, and a lot of the other airborne agents that are drifting through the forest. That’ll give us a window of clear air where we can travel without getting our brains melted by whatever’s normally drifting through the forest. I’ll wake you two up once the rain stops, and we’ll start a hard march to get out of this area and towards the objective.”

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping, then? And I can take the first watch?” Dare asks.

“I won’t be sleeping tonight. You keep an eye on Kwyn until she goes to sleep, then you go to sleep yourself. I’ll wake you both up when it’s time.”

“You’ve barely slept over the last couple of days—”

“Wereckanan are built different.” I say, knowing where Dare is going with this. “We can go longer than humans can without sleep. You and Kwyn, on the other hand, need to rest.”

He doesn’t reply right away. I know him well enough to know that he wants to, but that he’s thinking of how to phrase his disagreement in a way that won’t rile me. “That’s probably true, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Dare, I’m a Calyri experiencing heat symptoms. I’ll spare you the details but I am not going to be getting any sleep tonight, even if I try.” I cut him off, turning my head but not fully looking over my shoulder. “I’m going to be awake whether I want to be or not, and since that’s the case, I might as well be the one on watch so you two can get some rest.”

He’s quiet again, and remains quiet. Once I’m sure that he won’t give me any backtalk, I return my attention to the forest and brook outside of the cave. I’ve started to settle again when I hear him speak up. “If you need me to help with anything, Whisper, just tell me. You don’t have to put everything on yourself. If you need me to help carry some of the load, tell me — I may not be perfect, but I’ll do the best I can.”

My fingers clench into fists. I know what he means by that, the statement of support that it’s meant to be, and yet something rears up violently within me, the part that wants to interpret it differently. There’s a part of me that wants to turn around and tell him exactly how he can help me, and I wrestle it down only by virtue of knowing that it’s the pollen talking. Yet even then, I can only halfway blame the pollen — while it is wreaking havoc with my head, it’s not putting anything in there that wasn’t already there. Just amplifying and magnifying some of the things that I’ve felt, and kept repressed, for a long time.

And I know Dare is trying to be helpful, but him trying to be helpful is just making it worse.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” I mutter. “Now keep an eye on Kwyn, and once she passes out, try to get some sleep. I’ll wake you up once the rain has come and gone.”

“Okay.” I can hear him shift and get comfortable at the back of the cave, and everything goes silent again, save for Kwyn’s occasional fidgeting. Lacing my fingers together, I continue glaring out into the bioluminescent gloom of the Decadent Forest, finding myself all too familiar with its lights, even three centuries removed from my time here. Much has changed in that time, including the terrain; to some of the foliage, and the fauna; to the rivers, and the residents.

And yet despite all that, I still recognize it. I still recognize Avvikerene, because no matter how much the surfaces changes, the core of Avvikerene remains the same. The animating principle that governs this world, and each of its biomes; the call that echoes through its oceans and mountains, the deserts and plains, the cities and forests. A whisper; an invitation; a promise.

To shed your lies, and accept the parts of yourself you hide from everyone else.

The Book of Avvi

Promise of the Infinite Sin

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

That was the promise Avvi offered to all who stepped foot on that world. That things didn’t have to be the way they were. Things could be different. You could be different.

Perhaps it was because Avvi understood how much a body could be a prison, and how many people felt imprisoned. Not just physically, but prisoners of their lives as well. Of their societies or cultures, prisoners of the expectations of those around them. They understood how many people felt like they could not be their authentic selves; could not explore the people they might become if they only had the chance.

And so that was the promise: a place where you could go to find freedom, true freedom. Not the flag-waving, patriotic, democratic liberty freedom, but true freedom. Freedom from an immutable form; freedom from the invisible chains of societal norms and cultural expectations. This world was never meant to turn into what it became, but it became that thing nonetheless. And rather than reject it, Avvi accepted it. Embraced it, even. For perhaps, this was what it was always meant to be.

Many came to fear this world. Others to revere it, and still others to despise it, for it stood for many things which could not be said. For questions which should not be asked, or at least common society would tell you as much. But this world asked those questions. And more than that, it would answer them, and allow you to answer them.

And as for Avvi, they only ever wanted to give others a place where they could find the truth. To experience the truth. To live the truth, even if the truth was madness. Even if the truth was giddy, or crazy, or profane. Even if it would be sacrilege, or heresy; even if it would be depraved, or deviant. Avvi wanted to give others that chance, even if the truth was madness — because all too often the truth is madness.

And because to some, living the truth — even if it was madness — was better than living a lie.

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

Avvikerene: The Decadent Forest

12/12/12764 7:39pm SGT

“You’re supposed to be keeping watch.”

I look around to see Whisper dropping to the ground within the fireline that guards our current campsite. In one hand, she’s got a knotted handkerchief that’s been stuffed with what looks like herbs and mushrooms. I look down at the book that Ironfist had given me before we left the outpost, and fold it shut. “I was keeping an eye on things. There’s just not much to keep an eye on here.”

Whisper glances at Kwyn, who’s lying close to the flaming sword sheathed in the ground, with a strip of cloth draped over her broken visor. Ostensibly to keep out the airborne agents, but more obviously to avoid all eye contact and interaction with us. The embarrassment of having her secrets revealed to Whisper and myself had been devastating to her; she’d barely spoken to us since we escaped from Sundew, refusing to look either of us in the eye and keeping her head down. In normal circumstances, Whisper and I would be tripping over ourselves to reassure her and let her know it didn’t change how we saw her — but these weren’t normal circumstances, and we were in survival mode. We didn’t have the time or mental bandwidth to try and wade through social complications, so we’d let Kwyn withdraw into herself. So long as she still followed orders and kept up, that’s all we needed her to do for now.

“Doesn’t mean you should let your guard down.” Whisper says, walking over to her shortsword and starting to empty the bundle she gathered from her little foray. “Why are you reading that thing?”

“Ironfist gave it to us for a reason.” I reply. Whisper’s communication had been short, clipped, and tense after escaping Sundew. Even more than it was before, to the point of being unfriendly. “I’m reading it because I’m hoping I can try to understand this place, figure it out, since you and Ironfist were keeping us in the dark. At this point, I’ll take any advantage I can get against Sundew and her thralls.”

“Well, reading the propaganda of the Kotetsidokoro isn’t going to do you any good. You should burn that book.” she says, taking out a knife and starting to trim herbs and mushrooms she’d picked up. “Last thing I want to hear is that you’re actually starting to agree with them.”

“You mind telling me what the Ko… Kota… whatever. You mind telling me what they are?” I say, bracing an arm on my knee. “This is your chance to fill us in on some of the stuff you should’ve told us before we got here, so we actually know what we’re dealing with.”

“She won’t tell you. She’s too scared.”

The voice, coming from outside the fireline, immediately puts both of us on high alert. I reach back for my battleaxe, while Whisper drops her knife and powers on her wrist pistols, both of us swiveling to the source of the voice. There, in the evening dusk, is Miari, leaning against one of the trees a few yards outside the fireline.

“Check the other side, Dare, I’ll keep an eye on her.” Whisper orders as she stands up, keeping one of her arms pointed at Miari.

“Kwyn, get up. They’ve caught up to us.” I order, pulling my battleaxe off my back as I turn to the other direction to make sure that there’s no one trying to sneak up on us while Miari’s got our attention.

“Relax. I’m not here to try anything funny.” Miari says. I glance over my shoulder to see she hasn’t moved. “I’m just here to check in on you. Sunny Dee’s orders. She wanted to know how far you lot had gotten.”

“What, she couldn’t come check herself?” Whisper growls as Kwyn starts to get up, pulling the cloth off her visor.

Miari smiles. “Your friend did a real number on her. It’s been a while since she’s had to decant from a corpse rose. She’s still getting herself back in order after that little setback. Doing a bit of research so she can figure out how to handle your axe-swinging buddy over there. I dunno what he did, but he’s got her proper riled, he has.”

“I scorched her once; I’ll scorch her again if she keeps coming after us.” I warn her, ready to twist the handle of my axe at a moment’s notice and ignite the plasma blades. “If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll leave us alone.”

“Mm. Audacious words for someone that’s actively intruding on the territory of one of the Kotetsidokoro.” Miari says, checking her nails. “You really going to tell Sunny Dee where she can go in her own forest? That’s not gonna score you any points with her.”

“We’re not looking for her approval. We’re here to do a job.” Whisper retorts. “Once it’s done, we’ll leave and she won’t have to deal with us ever again. If she leaves us alone, we won’t bother her. Everybody wins.”

“Mmmm. Yeah, she noticed the direction you were heading in.” Miari says, her long tail flicking back and forth as she sizes us up. “You’re here for the Dragine artifact, aren’t you.”

I glance at Whisper, and see her jaw tighten. Our mission probably just got a lot harder; if Sundew knows what we’re after, and where it is, it means she can plan, prepare, and fortify that area. We might reach the objective, only to find that we’re walking into a minefield of traps.

“She was surprised that you all knew about it. Usually offworlders have no idea of what’s on Avvikerene, because you all are too scared of it.” Miari goes on. “How did you all find out about it, by the by? The magical radiation permeating Avvikerene blocks most deep scans from orbit, and the artifact’s so deep into the forest that almost no one ever goes there, much less people that would be able to find out about it and map it.”

“What can I say. CURSE’s intelligence department is exceptional at their job.” Whisper replies with a sweet tone that barely masks the venom underneath. “Maybe you’d like to be a good little girl and bring that artifact to us?”

“Hah!” Miari’s shoulders jump with a bout of laughter, her chuckling subsiding as she answers. “I’ve got a praise kink, sweetheart, but not to the extent that I’d risk stealing one of Sundew’s most prized possessions. With that said, though, she knows what you’re after, and she’s willing to make an exchange.” Her orange eyes flit to Kwyn, who’s still on one knee on the ground, hand on her holstered plasma pistol. “She’ll let you have the Dragine artifact if you give her the Dreaming girl.”

I twist the handle of my axe without thinking, igniting the plasma blades. “No.”

“Hard pass on that.” Whisper agrees.

Miari shrugs. “I think it’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. Everybody knows how valuable Dragine artifacts are; nations and organizations won’t hesitate to sacrifice a bundle of lives if it gives them an opportunity to get their hands on one. And it’s not like you’d be sacrificing your friend to death; Sundew just wants a… special new playmate to keep her company. She’ll be treated well, I promise you; quite well. One person in exchange for one of the most coveted types of artifact in the galaxy — that’s quite a bargain.”

“Not to us.” I say, moving to stand guard over Kwyn. “I don’t care what that artifact is worth; it’s not worth more than my friends. You tell Sundew that her bargain is shit, and she’s not walking off with any of us.”

“Oh hohoho. Aren’t you just a lion.” Miari chuckles, placing her fingers to her lips. “Very protective of your pride, aren’t you? You got room in there for one more? I like myself an assertive man…”

I find myself wishing my helm was engaged to hide the rush of color to my face. “I’m not— no, it’s… no—”

“I think it’s time for you to go.” Whisper says. “We’re not interested in Sundew’s bargain, and unless you plan on turning against her, which you literally can’t because of that flower in your hair, we’re not interested in having you in our group. Don’t you have an orgy to attend or some hapless adventurer to seduce or something?”

“Well, there is one later on tonight.” Miari says thoughtfully, her fingers straying down to tap at her chin. “Mosha’s already headed in that direction, I’ll probably join him later. I suppose I don’t have much reason to stay here, although… you did ask what the Kotetsidokoro were, and she never gave you an answer, did she, handsome?”

I don’t answer her, because I know that she’s fishing for an excuse to keep tying up our attention and get under our skin. It’s tempting, and I do want to know what they are, but indulging her means that I’ll be playing her game, and it’s not worth the trouble I know she’s looking to make.

“What are the Kotetsidokoro?”

The question catches me off guard, since it comes from Kwyn, who hasn’t said a word this entire time. I look down to see she’s watching Miari, though I can’t see her expression from this angle.

“Oh, someone that is interested.” Miari says, pushing off her tree and slinking around it, though Whisper keeps her wrist pistols pointed at the vashy. “Far be it from me to decline sincere curiosity. I can see why Sundew’s interested in you.”

“Come any closer and you’re gonna eat a plasma bolt.” Whisper warns.

Miari stops advancing, but she does crouch down, as if she was getting on Kwyn’s level and staring right at her. “The Kotetsidokoro are the children of Avvi, the deity that rules this world. They are the ones that command its various regions; each of them holds a glimmer of Avvi’s divinity, and they each have a sacred responsibility to nurture Avvikerene. To help those that come here to discover themselves, and explore who they truly are. To help shape them into what they truly are. That is what Sundew Weaver is, and that is what she wants to help each of you with. To be the versions of yourself that you hide from everyone else; to be able to live the truth of what you are, free from the judgement of others.”

There’s a hiss and a sizzle as an icy-blue plasma bolt cooks the ground next to one of Miari’s digitigrade feet. She startles in the air on reflex, her tail fluffing out as she lands a few feet back from where she was crouching, while Whisper opens her mouth and hisses at her in the way that cats usually do when presented with something unpleasant. “Leave. Now. Or the next shot goes in your face.”

Miari returns the gesture, laying back her ears and hissing at Whisper. “Fighting against the facts won’t change them, Calyri’ashka. Sundew showed me the truth; you are what you are because Avvikerene and Sundew made you that way. And you’re a hypocrite for trying to deny the same opportunity to your friends.”

She slowly backs into the falling dark, her orange eyes remaining visible long after the rest of her has faded into the gloom. Even after she’s disappeared from view, we don’t fully relax, and I only deactivate the plasma blades on my axe once Whisper has lowered her arms and put her wrist pistols to standby again.

“Should we move camp?” I ask as Whisper returns to the herbs and the mushrooms she’d been trimming.

“No. If Sundew knows what we’re gunning for, she’ll be waiting for us when we get there. For her, there’s no point in chasing us around if we’ll eventually come to her anyway.” Whisper says, pointing her knife at Kwyn. “And you. Whatever’s going through your head, whatever ideas Sundew put in there while she had us in the mindscape, you throw them out right this instant. Whatever she told you, she told you to try and bring you under her control, and if you fall for it, she will never let you go.”

Kwyn looks away from us without a word, and I find myself wishing that she would just talk to us, and tell us what’s going through her mind. Holstering my axe across my back, I give Whisper a driving stare. “I suppose you would know from experience, wouldn’t you.”

Whisper glares at me. “Don’t go there, Dare.” Picking up another mushroom, she starts cutting the cap off. “Make yourself useful and start boiling some water. The catalysts in these plants help break down some of the airborne agents that constantly drift through the forest. It’ll help ease the effects of constantly breathing this shit, at least for those of us that don’t have filtration systems.”

I let it be, coming over to kneel beside the flaming sword so Whisper can reach over and take one of the supply modules off the back of my suit. Once she’s got it off, I start unpacking it, glancing at Kwyn every now and then to find that she’s sitting quiet, with her arms wrapped around her folded knees. Her body language communicates a clear sense of vulnerability, and I want to reassure her, but I’m afraid that she might misinterpret my intentions if I try to do so. I can only stand by silently, wishing I knew what was going through her head so I would know what to say to make her feel better.

And hoping that her curiosity about the Kotetsidokoro remained a curiosity, and not the beginnings of an obsession.

The Book of Avvi

Children of the Infinite Sin

They called us the Kotetsidokoro. The children of Avvi.

I do not know where the name arose. I don’t think any of the others remember, save for the oldest ones. If I had to guess, I would say it was probably euphemistic. Not meant to be taken literally, but there was a certain metaphorical value in it. For all of us were born again of Avvi, and Avvi took us under their wing. Gave us what we needed to blossom into our full potential.

And we, in turn, built our domains and realms on the world that Avvi had sculpted for our use. For our pleasure, our play, our dominion, and our sanctuary.

In the beginning it was just a few. Those of us who had stronger ambitions, who reached for more. The ones who stood atop the unknown, that wild world that had not yet been discovered, and set out to explore it, to make it our home. There were others, of course; there were always others. But it was those who rose above the masses, who strove and succeeded in becoming something more, who were visited by Avvi in person, and given the sacred gift of absolute mutability — it was these who became the Kotetsidokoro.

There were never any formal ceremonies that came with the title. That was not the way we did things on Avvikerene. No announcements, no grand occasions, no bestowal of office or rank. Kotetsidokoro was something you became, not something that could be given to you. It was earned, over years and decades; it was shown in the domain you constructed and the dominion you had established. It was the growth of self and personage into something bigger, something representative of more than just the individual.

Each of us knew that our dominion was at the pleasure of Avvi; that is, we created domains and had dominion over them only because Avvi allowed it. We knew that Avvi could, at a moment’s notice, deprive us of all that we had built and accrued over the span of decades and centuries. And yet this was something that never happened; Avvi allowed us to establish our dominions in the method which we desired, and to maintain our domains in the manner we preferred. If there was ever an issue with what we did, Avvi would visit and express it in the gentlest of terms. And we would comply and change what was asked.

We never questioned Avvi, because we were their children. Avvi gave us all that we had, and asked almost nothing in turn. What little that Avvi did ask, we were quick to comply with, for Avvi did not ask often, and did not ask for much. And we would’ve gladly given more than what was asked, if only Avvi needed it or desired it.

For we were their children, and Avvi was our parent — the one who loved us when our own parents would not. The one who accepted us when our own families rejected us, and called us unnatural or perverse. The one that gave us the world, and more than that — a place to belong.

And for that, the Kotetsidokoro will always be loyal to them.

Event Log: Ilyana Kemaim

Avvikerene: The Decadent Forest

12/14/12764 6:56am SGT

I wanted so badly to sleep.

Though I’d told Dare that wereckanan could go much longer than humans without sleep, and it was technically true, it didn’t mean it was easy to do so. I’d been scraping by on four hours of sleep every night, since Kwyn couldn’t be trusted with a nightwatch in the condition she was in. Dare kept watch for four, I kept watch for the other eight, and we both kept an eye on Kwyn during our watches to make sure she didn’t wander off or do anything detrimental. Her near-total muteness, and the curiosity she’d expressed about the Kotetsidokoro, had raised an abundance of familiar red flags for me. I didn’t like to admit it, but Dare was right: I knew all too well what Kwyn was going through from personal experience. I knew how alluring Sundew’s temptations could be, because I had once fallen for them myself.

It was something that I had been turning over and over in my mind for the last several hours, finding myself reflecting on everything that I’d been avoiding since I learned about this assignment. I hadn’t wanted to reckon with any of it, to look back on the things I’d done and the person I’d been during my time here. And I hadn’t wanted to disclose that history to those that knew me, because I didn’t want them to see me differently.

But Dare and Kwyn knew now. I’m pretty sure they’d had suspicions prior to this, but after Miari’s comment a couple days ago, it was more or less confirmed. And now, instead of trying to avoid acknowledging that I’d been to Avvikerene before, I was finding myself thinking of how to discuss the topic with them if it came up again. How to explain why I’d come here, and why I did the things that I did.

“You look like you could use some sleep, ‘Lyana.”

My eyes flicker back open. It’s become a struggle to stay awake, but I recognize the voice, and I know the danger it presents. It only takes me a couple of seconds to spot Sundew on the edges of our camp, outside the fireline, watching me with her ocean eyes.

“Would it kill you to leave us alone?” I mutter, my hands moving to my wrist pistols.

Sundew lifts a hand, providing a perch for a passing dragonfly. The sun still hasn’t fully risen; the sky is lightening, and soft, pale light is creeping through the trees. “You are in my forest. You are the intruder here, not me. Although you don’t have to be an intruder; this can be your home again, if you’ll let it be.”

“And be your toy again? I’ll pass, thank you.” I say, quietly powering on my wrist pistols.

She smiles, looking away from the dragonfly and back towards me. “You say that like you didn’t enjoy being my little kitten.”

My blood pressure spikes at that. “Who I was back then is not who I am now.”

“More’s the pity. I liked you more when you were one of us.” She watches as the dragonfly flicks its wings a couple of times to help itself balance. “I had to move on, though. I missed you, but I did find replacements. Still wish you hadn’t left us; you would’ve had a future here, if you had stayed long enough.”

“I’ve made out just fine how I am, thank you very much.” I say, checking my jacket to make sure that I’ve got the potion vials close at hand. From what Dare had told me, he’d used one of the sticky fire vials during the escape from Sundew, leaving me with just the one that would burn underwater.

“Have you really, though? You don’t seem happy to me.” Sundew says as the dragonfly takes off from her finger. “You seem miserable, actually. It’s just sad to watch. You’re fighting your desires, fighting your instincts, trying to reject all of it. All of the truth that you discovered while you were here three hundred years ago. And if you’d just let go and give in…”

“I know what happens if I let go and give in. I know how it’ll feel; I know how much I’ll enjoy it.” I know I shouldn’t be indulging this conversation, but I can’t help it. It feels like I’m finally getting to let out something that I’ve kept pent up inside me for weeks and weeks. “I’m choosing not to. I have responsibilities; I have a sense of purpose. I have people that are relying on me, and I can’t let them down.”

“But are you happy?” Sundew asks.

I clench my teeth before answering. “We don’t get to be happy all the time.”

“You could be, though.” Sundew points out. “Come back home, ‘Lyana. I know you want to; I can see you fighting it, but I know you miss all of this.” She motions to the forest around us. “You miss us. You miss exploring, and being carefree, and being curious, and being happy. You miss having fun. You loved it when you were here, and you could go back to being what you were before you were taken from us.”

“I wasn’t taken; I was rescued.” I retort sharply.

“Against your will.” she reminds me.

I can’t refute that, so I don’t try to. “I won’t say it isn’t tempting. But last time I was here, I was alone, with no obligations to anyone else, and I could afford to be reckless and wild and selfish. That’s not the case anymore. There are people relying on me, and I can’t let them down. So no, I’m not going to give in, and I’m not going to stay here, no matter what you dangle in front of me.”

Sundew’s eyes stray to Dare and Kwyn, who are still sleeping next to the flaming sword at the center of the camp. “Yes, I suppose this time is different, isn’t it. You brought others with you this time around. Perhaps you would stay if they stayed as well…”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Not going to happen.”

“So you say, but it’s not your choice to make.” she says, starting to walk around the fireline as if to get a better view of Dare and Kwyn. “All I need to do is convince them. The man is difficult, but I believe that with enough time, I could break him. He yearns for a sense of deeper connection, a stable relationship that his current occupation holds out of reach for him. And the woman is still trying to figure out who she is and what she wants to be; luckily for her, I know exactly what she should be. What she will be. And I can give her the guidance she needs to get there.”

My first impulse is to tell her to stay away from my friends, but I clamp down on it because she’s in a talking mood, and this is an opportunity to try and pry some more information out of her if I play along. “The way Miari tells it, you couldn’t give two shits about Dare. It’s Kwyn that you really want.”

Sundew raises an eyebrow. “Have you given my offer some more thought, then?”

“Seems like a bit of a lopsided ask. What’s so special about her that you’d give up a Dragine artifact just to have her?” I demand, turning to make sure I keep Sundew in my field of view as she continues circling the fireline.

Sundew shrugs. “She has unique potential. It warrants a unique offer. But since you turned it down, I’ll gladly keep both the artifact and the girl, when she eventually succumbs to her yearning.”

I press my lips together. I’d hoped that I could get something a bit more specific than that out of her, but all it confirmed was that Sundew coveted Kwyn far more than anyone else that I knew of. Dare and I were just convenient side pieces; Kwyn was the real prize to her, for whatever reason. “That’s not going to happen, not on my watch.”

“You’d deprive her of the right to choose what she wants?” Sundew asks, lifting a hand to graze it along the hanging ring of fire encircling the camp. As if she was testing how hot it was, and how much of a deterrent it could be. “And why would she trust you, after you kept her in the dark? After you kept both of them in the dark? And you’re still trying to keep them in the dark. Miari told me that the man carries a copy of the Book of Avvi, and you were haranguing him for reading it when she caught up to you three. Refusing to tell them what the Kotetsidokoro are. I bet you haven’t told them anything about Avvi, either.”

“Because they won’t need any of that information once we leave this world.” I retort. “Once we have the artifact, we’re leaving, and we’re never coming back.”

“I’m sure your rescuers said something similar three hundred years ago.” Sundew says, the leaf litter behind her rustling as her tail sweeps around from behind her. “And yet here we are once more.”

Her tail flicks up with that, the waxy leaves bisecting the fireline, then fanning to either side and creating a gap that she can lunge though. The leaves end up severely scorched, but it doesn’t matter because she’s inside the fireline now, on a beeline towards Kwyn. I spring towards her as well, already raising my arms to loose a barrage plasma bolts at Sundew — with how quickly she regenerates, I’m going to need to empty both of my wrist pistols into her, and even then it might not be enough to put her down.

But all of that is thrown into doubt when Dare suddenly rolls on his side, kicking the mechanized leg of his power armor out and right into Sundew’s ankles as she’s passing him. It takes her clean off her feet, sending her faceplanting into the ground in a way that would be funny if the stakes weren’t so high. His directional thrusters are already firing, propelling a few hundreds of pounds of power armor upright in a mere second; as Sundew eats dirt, he’s already hurtling towards her, grabbing my sword on his way there. The fireline disappears as he yanks it out of the ground, and Sundew is just beginning to push herself upright, spitting out dirt, when Dare’s shadow falls over her. She has just enough time to look back before he drives the still-flaming blade straight down with servos-assisted brutality, impaling her right through the center of her back with enough force to drive it through her up to the hilt, and pinning her to the ground by sheathing the blade in the earth.

I skid to a halt as Sundew lets out a piercing scream, but Dare is already pulling his battleaxe off his back, twisting the handle and igniting the plasma blades. Sundew is clawing at the ground, grappling with the pain of being abruptly impaled, but he doesn’t wait for her to get her wits about her. The axe swings up and down once, and Sundew’s struggling stops as her head rolls away from her body a half-foot, the stump sizzling and cauterized by the plasma edge.

And naturally, Kwyn’s been woken up by the sudden commotion, and upon finding a decapitated body a few feet from her, immediately scrambles back another few feet, hyperventilating as she looks around and tries to get a handle on what she’s woken up to.

“I didn’t know you were awake.” I say to Dare as Sundew’s eyes start to cloud over.

“I woke up when you started talking, but stayed where I was and didn’t move. If she attacked, I knew it would be important to take her by surprise.” he says, his helm disengaging and retracting into the collar of his suit. The moment it does, I can see his pupils are no longer black — they’re lit with a lightning-orange brilliance that leaves aftertrails in the air, indicating that his Spark is active.

“Well, she wasn’t the only one you took by surprise.” I say, deciding not to remark on it for now, and instead walking over to Sundew’s body and kneeling to grab the hilt of the sword. I have to plant my boot on her body to get enough leverage to yank the sword out of both the ground and the body. “She’s gonna be pissed when she decants from her next corpse rose. This’ll be the second time you’ve killed her.”

“She hasn’t exactly been giving me much choice.” Dare says, deactivating the plasma blades of his axe. “How many corpse roses does she have? I was hoping she’d only be able to pull that trick once.”

“A lot. She could have dozens. She had four of them last time I was here, and that was three hundred years ago.” I say, putting my wrist pistols back to standby mode. “Killing her will only slow her down. We need to get that artifact, and get out of here as quickly as possible. There’s only so many times we can pull rabbits out of hats before she gets wise to all our tricks.” Noticing that Kwyn’s still staring wide-eyed at Sundew’s corpse, I motion to her. “Go calm her down and get her ready to move. Sun’s coming up and we should be on our way. I’ll start getting breakfast ready so we can eat and then hit the road.”

Dare glances at Kwyn, then at Sundew’s decapitated body, the orange glow starting to fade from his pupils as he latches his axe to the back of his suit again. “…you want us to have breakfast right next to a dead body?”

I glance at Sundew’s body. “I’ll make it so we can have it on the go.”

He nods, then lumbers over to Kwyn, kneeling down next to her and offering her a hand. Turning around, I spot Sundew’s head, the clouded eyes still staring upwards at an angle, the mouth slightly open, as if she had still been processing the decapitation when the life left her.

While I wasn’t going to bother with trying to move her body, I was not about to make breakfast with those dead eyes staring at us. Walking over, I hook my boot under the head, kicking it up and watching as it lands in the brush several yards outside of the camp. Flipping my blade over, I stab it back into the ground, reestablishing the fireline, and get to the business of prepping breakfast while Dare helps Kwyn to her feet.

The Book of Avvi

Host of the Infinite Sin

To many, you were a savior. You gave them a freedom they could not have attained anywhere else. Few other hypernaturals would’ve given the gifts you did. And none would’ve given them as freely as you did. You did it for mercy, for pity, for kindness — because you could not bear to see them live a lie.

And to many others, you were a monster.

You profaned the natural order of things. You created things that could not have come about on their own, broke the rules that society would otherwise impose on its members, and what you claimed was kindness, others called corruption. Moreover, you brought others with you into the infinite sin. Many of them never escaped — nevermind the fact that most of them didn’t want to escape.

To your family, you were odd, but they were proud of you. You fulfilled the quintessential contradiction that was your heritage, asked the question that each generation of your family was expected to ask. And the answer, though subtle and understated at first, became spectacular beyond measure, with time. The approbation of your house was, to other immortals, evidence of your perversity and profanity — even though your only crime was to give mortals the gift that gods so jealously guarded for themselves.

And as punishment for the extension of this grace, you were confined to your world, curtailed so that you could only tread where your children tread. Your generosity was seen as corruption which needed to be contained, and the other immortals made it so, misguided as it may have been. But you did not protest; no, you adapted. And if you could not go unto those who were laden down by the shackles of their society, you would instead invite them to come unto you.

And come they did, and still do, to this day.

You, who hosted the infinite sin. You, who held the truth unvarnished. You, who shared it with others. You; unto some salvation, and unto others damnation.

Speak your truth.

Event Log: Ilyana Kemaim

Avvikerene: The Decadent Forest

11:45pm SGT

Whisper.

My eyes snap open. The voice is singular in its presence; for a moment, it is the only thing in my mind, as if there was nothing else in existence. And though I was sleeping just before, I am wide awake now — no grogginess, no waking disorientation, simply awake and alert as if I had been up for hours.

Pushing myself upright, I look around. The light from my burning sword and the fireline around us has not changed; Kwyn is asleep near the middle of the camp, and Dare is still seated on a fallen log not far from the center of the camp. But there seems to be a very faint, hazy golden nimbus around both of them, and motion out beyond the fireline catches my attention. In the dark, I see a pair of legs, gloved in pristine white silk, taking elegant, silent steps through the underbrush. They disappear into an equally white shirt, oversized and coming down almost to the knees, with wide sleeves for the arms, and a vibrant red cuff ringing the end of each sleeve. Slender fingers are laced together over the folds of the haori, and though it seems oversize, it is draped over the body in such a way that reveals the slim contours — neither male nor female, or perhaps both simultaneously. My eyes finish rising to the shoulders, and the head — white hair, most of it trimmed to chin length, but some at the back braided and left to drape over the shoulder. Eyes, a vivid red that matches the color of the sleeve cuffs. Pale, pink lips, and an ageless face that is smooth and well-defined, and yet confoundingly ambiguous.

“Avvi.” I whisper, finding that I recognize them, even though I have never seen them before.

The pink lips curl in a faint smile, hands coming unlaced so one can motion towards the fireline, a opening forming in the ring of fire as they use their other hand to motion out towards the forest. “Ilyana. Would you walk with me for a while?”

I scramble to my feet, looking again at Kwyn and Dare — and realizing that Dare’s helm is tilted forward, as if he had dozed off while he was on watch. “I shouldn’t, I need to guard the camp—”

“Your friends will be fine. They sleep under my influence, and your camp is likewise under my sanction.” Avvi says, one hand remaining outstretched to me. “I will not keep you long.”

I’m still uncertain about leaving Dare and Kwyn alone, but the same time, it’s Avvi — the literal god of this godforsaken, violently horny space rock. I can’t imagine what would happen if I declined the offer, and besides, Avvi is asking politely — it feels like it would be rude to turn them down. Getting to my feet, I check to make sure I’ve got everything I might need and make my way towards the opening in the fireline.

The gap in the ring of fire closes once I’ve passed through it, and looking back over my shoulder, I pick up on something I hadn’t noticed before: our entire camp is encircled by a faint curtain of golden light, with glittering motes drifting through it. From the inside, it’s not really noticeable with the light given off by the fireline, but from the outside, in the dark of the night forest, it becomes more legible against the gloomy backdrop.

Turning back to Avvi, I brush leaves and debris off my jacket, trying to comb my hair into order, and feeling rather self-conscious. “Sorry, it’s been… a rough couple of weeks, we haven’t had access to showers or anything like that, and haven’t had the time or safety to try and bath in rivers. Most I’ve been able to do is dunk my head and rinse my hair out…”

Avvi does not seem at all shifted by that, offering me an arm. “You need not hide from me the way Adam and Eve hid from their god when they knew their state.”

I stare at their arm, then hesitantly loop my through it. “Adam and Eve…?”

“It’s an old Christling story. About a paradisiacal garden not so different from this one, now that I think of it.” Avvi says, beginning to walk, and I move to keep pace with them, noticing that all of the nearby bioluminescent flora brightens at Avvi’s presence. It provides us ample illumination to see our surroundings as we tread through them. “Trees of forbidden knowledge and forbidden life. Eden does seem quite like Avvikerene, albeit with a few key differences.”

“I… I can’t say I’m familiar with it.” I say, a bit at a loss for words. I hadn’t expected a deity to be so conversational.

“No shame in that. It’s an old tale; even some of the Christlings have forgotten it.” Avvi says, bending easily under an arching fern. “It is good to see you again, after three centuries.”

I look at Avvi. “Again? But I never met you, even when I was here the first time… you know me?”

“I do. I knew you were important to Sundew, and I saw also that you had growing ambition before you were taken from this world.” Avvi answers, helping me up over a fallen tree trunk. “I remember you were considering starting your own little enclave, separate from Sundew’s dominion, and I remember taking notice of your ambitions, and thinking at the time that you might have the potential to become Kotetsidokoro, had you succeeded and continued to expand your control.”

“You remember all that, even after three centuries?” I ask, sliding down the other side of the trunk.

“I am hypernatural; I remember most things of consequence.” Avvi answers. “I was disappointed when you were taken away, but it does happen. I was surprised to see you had returned, and so violently at odds with Sundew, after all these centuries.”

I sigh, looking away. “It’s been three hundred years. I’m different now. And so is Sundew. I don’t remember her being this powerful when I left, or being in control of this much territory. We’ve grown in different directions.”

“I suppose that is true. But you two once adored each other, and now you spare no effort in trying to kill her.” Avvi agrees, the fingers of their free hand brushing over a passing spirit bloom and coaxing it to open, luminous and blue, in the night. “It is quite a reversal, even by the standards of Avvikerene.”

“Because I know how dangerous she is to my friends.” I point out.

“Dangerous? Sundew does not wish them harm.”

“Well, no, but she wants to keep them here, and they don’t want to stay here.” I explain. “She’s dangerous in the sense that if she gets her hands on them, she won’t let them leave. That’s dangerous to them. To us.”

“You don’t want to stay here?” Avvi asks, looking at me.

“I… well…” I struggle, realizing that deep down, I do want to stay here, but I don’t want to admit that. “I have responsibilities, and so do they. We can’t just abandon those. We cannot stay here, Avvi. The first time I came here, I didn’t owe anything to anybody. But this time, I have a job to get back to, and so do they. We are needed, out there. In the galaxy.” I motion upwards to the speckled sky of stars partially visible through the forest’s canopy.

“Is that so?” The skepticism in Avvi’s voice is clear.

“Yes. The galaxy is in flux. It is unstable right now.” I say firmly. “The Challengers have been reborn as the Valiant. The Collective is on the move. Laughing Alice is on the loose again. All three of us have a part to play in those battles, and if we aren’t there—”

“Others will take up the slack, will they not?” Avvi asks. “Will these battles be lost but for your presence? Or will others step into your stead, and fight the fight that you and your friends would’ve fought?”

I huff. “Well yes, but that’s not the point. I’m not going to leave it half-finished for someone else to clean up. I need to go back and see it through to the end.”

“And do your friends feel the same way?” Avvi asks as we reach a stream, and they begin to step from rock to rock to cross it, each step delicate, mincing, and precise.

I hesitate on following. “They do. They should. I hope they do. We all took an oath of service as Peacekeepers. I figure they would stick to it.”

“But you do not know that with certainty.”

“You can never really say for sure what a person thinks or believes, can you?” I say, start to step on the rocks crossing the stream. “I’m pretty sure they would stick to it. I would be disappointed if they didn’t.”

“Mm.” Avvi says thoughtfully, waiting for me on the other side of the stream. “I have found, over the course of my existence, that people struggle to be true to the commitments they have made if they cannot be true, first and foremost, to themselves. And your friends are yet uncomfortable with the parts of themselves that they had not acknowledged until Sundew revealed those parts to them. You know this firsthand, do you not?”

I linger on the last rock, wrestling with Avvi’s observation. “They are… doing the best they can. The rest of the galaxy is different, Avvi. People do not live an absolute truth the way they can here.”

“I am aware. They pass their lives cloaked in lies, both the ones they tell to others, and the ones they tell to themselves.” Avvi says mildly. “It makes living easier, certainly. But it is not honest, and therein lies the root of many of the galaxy’s problems. A continual, ubiquitous dishonesty, whether they choose it for themselves, or do so under the pressure of society.”

“You think the galaxy’s problems are a result of people not being honest about themselves? With themselves?” I ask, hopping to the shore and taking Avvi’s arm as they offer it once more. “It seems a little reductive.”

“I suppose an argument can be made for comorbidity, and the cumulative effect of multiple vices contributing to larger issues.” Avvi admits as we start wending our way through the forest again, this time along a path with a gentle incline. “But I do not exist to address all of the galaxy’s problems. Just the ones in which I am most versed. I leave it to other hypernaturals to address the vices with which they are most familiar, and as for myself, I deal only in the matter of absolute personal honesty. Which is just as well, because even immortals struggle to be fully honest with themselves.”

“If the gods struggle with being honest with themselves, how can you expect it of mortals?” I ask.

“I can’t. That is why Avvikerene exists.” Avvi says, motioning to the luminescent forest around us. “This world exists to heal people of the damage they have done to themselves, to rehabilitate them from the lies they have buried themselves under. It exists as a place where they can come to find who they are, and allows them to undertake the journey of becoming that person. It is not merely a world where people come to indulge their dark desires or secret fantasies, but to help them understand them, to accept them, and in that acceptance, to become whole. To become the person that you have hidden from everyone else, for whatever reason — but most often for fear of judgement.” Avvi looks to me now. “Do you not know this better than anyone else? Did Avvikerene not help you find yourself, and in the process, make you into what you are now? And in the three hundred years since, you have not renounced it, as far as I can tell — you have kept the form we helped attain. You have lived your truth since then.”

I puff out a long breath as we continue up the winding incline of the path. I can’t deny it, which is what makes this all the harder. I know the truth of Avvikerene, but for the sake of my friends, I have been avoiding it, pretending like I don’t know it. I believe in this world and what it stands for, because I came here and received the help I needed. But I came here seeking that help — Kwyn and Dare did not come here with that intent.

“My friends did not come here looking to find themselves.” I point out. “They weren’t supposed to be here at all; we were made to come here to complete a task given to us by our superiors. Can’t you cut them some slack and let us pass in peace?”

Avvi raises a white eyebrow. “You have come to Avvikerene to take something which does not belong to you, and leave without giving anything in return. In effect, to steal from this world. And yet you want us to let you pass in peace?” Avvi gives a moment to let that sink in. “Sundew is well within her right to trouble you as she has, Whisper. She made you a reasonable offer, and you declined it in favor of stealing from her. If you and your companions wish to have that artifact, you will have to fight for it tooth and nail; pay for it in blood and tears. You will not be allowed to simply take it and be on your way.”

I snort at that. “A reasonable offer? She wanted me to give away one of my friends for the artifact. I’m many things, but I don’t sell out the people I care about.”

“For what it is you seek, the offer she made was reasonable.” Avvi says as the path before us starts to become a little more rocky, and less laden with hard-packed dirt. “The Dragine artifact you desire is no small thing. I do not exaggerate when I say it has the potential to change the galaxy in the right hands.”

“Yeah? Then why hasn’t Sundew used it to do that already?” I point out.

“Because Sundew does not understand what she has in her possession.” Avvi says, carefully stepping from rock to rock on their way up the path. “To her, and as to many other mortals, Dragine artifacts are difficult to understand and harness. Many simply settle for keeping them as sources of passive and infinite power generation, which on its own, is certainly valuable enough. But Dragine artifacts often have many functions beyond that, and this one has a particularly consequential function.”

“And I suppose you’re not going to tell me what that is?” I ask as Avvi helps me up a particularly steep rock.

“If I haven’t told Sundew, one of my own children, what that function is, what makes you think I will tell you?” Avvi asks in return. “I explain the value of this artifact to you only by means of putting it in context of the exchange you have been offered. To give up the Dreaming descendant in exchange for the artifact is a reasonable trade in terms of value given and received. But I understand that you are measuring that exchange in metrics that are more than strictly objective.”

“Well, can you at least explain that to me?” I persist as the foliage starts to thin out a bit on the path we’re walking. “Why does Sundew want Kwyn so badly? Dare told me that she went ballistic when he rescued Kwyn from her.”

“Your friend carries traces of the same blood that flows in my veins.” Avvi replies. “I may be a hypernatural now, but I was once a child of the Dreaming. That is what enabled my mutability; children of the Dreaming have no definite form but what they choose for themselves, and we can change that form with considerable ease. The seeds of that same potential are present in Kwyn; Sundew recognizes that, and covets it.”

“Why, though?” I say, shaking my head. “You gave her the gift of mutability, didn’t you? She’s one of the Kotetsidokoro, and all of them have the gift of mutability. They can change their physical forms at will; it’s what sets them apart from everyone else on Avvikerene.”

“That is true. I did give her the gift of mutability.” Avvi concedes as the trees around us start to open up onto a rocky ledge that overlooks the Decadent Forest. “But Sundew is ambitious; she desires more, and covets much. As for myself, what I have given, I can also take away. Sundew wants mutability that I cannot take away from her, and Kwyn is the avenue through which she hopes to attain that.”

I make my way along the rocky outcropping, letting go of Avvi’s arm as I look for a good perch to stare out over the forest. “How’s she supposed to get that through Kwyn? It’s not like she can steal Kwyn’s lineage, can she? Unless whatever Kwyn’s got is something biological that Sundew can replicate or manipulate.”

“It is not.” Avvi says, delicately following along behind me. “One cannot replicate a Dreaming lineage; it is an inheritance of the soul, not the body. Not that it will stop Sundew; are you familiar with how Masks fuse with their Maskbearers, synthesizing a new individual?”

I stop dead, turning around to stare at Avvi. “No. Oh hell no. Is that what she plans on doing with Kwyn?”

“Since she cannot replicate or falsify a Dreaming lineage, fusing is the only means by which she can acquire what Kwyn has.” Avvi explains, lacing their fingers together. “Over the time you have been gone, she has developed an… imitation of the process that Masklings are naturally capable of. That imitation takes the form of fusion flowers, which are a variation on the corpse rose — though I must admit that I am impressed by her aptitude for genetic weaving and biological design. The fusion flowers are a very elegant mutation from the base design of the corpse rose.”

I run a hand through my hair, letting out a sigh. “Well, it’s all coming together now, isn’t it… I guess that explains why she’s so obsessed with Kwyn. Sundew was always hungry; she always wanted more. But why does she want her own mutability? Is what you gave her not enough for her?”

Avvi gives a light shrug. “She feels like I can use what I gave her as leverage over her. To extract her compliance and exercise control over her. And she is not comfortable with that potential scenario.”

“But you’re…”

“Not very controlling or demanding? That I do not ask much, and I often give of what I have freely? Indeed.” Avvi says, turning to gaze out over the forest. “But try telling that to Sundew. All she sees is a potential threat to her autonomy, and she wants to nullify it, so she can continue to grow uninhibited. As you said, she is always hungry, always wants more. Your friend just happens to be the next item on her covetous menu, a single entree in a long line of them. Kwyn would not be the first person she has fused with in a bid to expand the borders of her personhood, and likely would not be the last.”

I work that over in my head. “And you are telling me this… why? It almost feels like you want me to wreck her plans, but you read me the riot earlier for wanting to take the Dragine artifact without giving anything in return. What is it you want from me?”

“I needed to remind you that you cannot come to Avvikerene and take from this world with impudence. We are generous with our bounty, but only to those who respect our custom and our ways.” Avvi says. “But in the case of you and your friends, your transgression is also the remedy to another problem I have. Ambitious siren sylvans are like certain fruit trees or bushes; they need to be pruned back every now and then to keep them from growing wild, and delivering poor fruit.” Avvi’s vermillion eyes turn to me. “If you would help a humble gardener trim one of the trees in their garden, perhaps they might let you pick some fruit from that tree before you leave.”

“And that fruit might take the shape of an artifact, possibly of the Dragine persuasion?” I ask tentatively.

Avvi shrugs, returning their gaze to the moonlit expanse of the Decadent Forest. “Perhaps. You would receive what you were seeking, and I would be left with a humbled daughter who may be more amenable to my counsel after being humiliated and foiled. You will have provided a service to me, and in turn I could let you depart with something of value. The custom of Avvikerene would be satisfied.”

I bite my lip. “I’ll be honest, that sounds like a much better deal than the one that Sundew was offering us.”

“I am glad to hear it. My family prides itself on our ability to offer compelling deals.” Avvi says, lifting a hand to point across the forest. “When you wake tomorrow, journey to that limestone column over there. Spend the night on its peak with your friends. When you wake the following morning, the end of your journey will be within sight.”

I do my best to contain my exasperation. “I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but could you just… skip the riddles and tell me where the artifact is? In the interest of speeding this along for the both of us, you know.”

“I could. But that would deprive you of the time you need to reconcile with your friends.” Avvi says, lowering their hand to fold it behind their back. “And as Sundew plans on tempting them sorely when you three reach the artifact, it seems wise to me that you try to earn back their trust, and come clean about your history with Avvikerene. This world demands honesty, Whisper; the absence of candor is the absence of strength. Secrets will only weaken you here, and you have kept many of them from your friends.”

That stings more than a little, but I don’t fight it, because I know it’s true. “ ‘kay. Fair enough. We’ll head in that direction tomorrow.” I turn to look back down the path we took to get here. “I should probably head back now. I need every second of sleep I can get.”

“Indeed.” Avvi agrees, inclining their head to a spot just off to the side of the path. “Pass through that curtain of vines, and you will find yourself back in your camp. You may rest easy tonight; my sanction will last until dawn has broken the horizon.”

My shoulders loosen up a bit at that. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” I start to go, then pause and turn back to Avvi. “If I had not been taken away all those centuries ago… if I had remained here… you said that I might have become Kotetsidokoro?”

“It is dangerous to dwell on what-ifs, Whisper. Take it from someone whose family very frequently tempts mortals with such questions.” Avvi says, turning to face towards the overlook again. “Not even the gods are permitted to turn back the clock. Focus on what is, and what could be — not what could’ve been.”

I had wanted to ask what I might be like if things had gone differently three hundred years ago, but it’s clear that Avvi doesn’t want to entertain that hypothetical. Besides, Avvi makes a good point: I can’t go back in time. There’s no use in dwelling on what I might have been — only what I am now, and what I might become with time.

Tucking my hands in my pockets, I give Avvi a final nod. “Understood. Thank you for all you have done for me, Avvi.” With that, I make my way to the curtain of vines, ducking through it to find myself back in our camp, with Dare and Kwyn still slumbering peacefully. Wandering over to my flaming sword, I lay down beside it once more, doing my best to calm my mind so I can take advantage of the first full night of sleep I’ve had in days.

Just a little bit more, and the end of this trial will be in sight.

The Book of Avvi

Hymn of the Infinite Sin

Now night, her course begun, drapes the sky from horizon to horizon in her indigo cloak.

And the forest, she gleams and glimmers in the dark; an irregularity upon the ocean.

Those points of light are many; shimmering, reflected, in the still dark waters.

But one above all, on skyline’s edge

No reflection casts.

Not near so bright in the dark of the night,

Too high for water-captured visage,

Too low to reach the stars.

Twixt heaven and earth you find your hearth

Little bird, who cries,

“Avvi, avvi.”

Collector still, of all the lost;

The forgotten and forsaken.

A calling sacred, passed on down,

In honor of the one;

Whose gift to us, in goodwill given,

Gave grace and grief to all.

But this the price that we must pay

For free will so bestowed;

In the hands of others lies our fate:

Our joys, our pains, our sorrows.

Through misery we must pay our toll,

The price for happiness exacted;

For flickers of light in this our life,

An endless night protracted.

And is it even? No indeed;

This burden is lopsided.

Some have more, and some have less;

By chance this math decided.

No fairness in this broken ‘verse,

So always with free will;

At once our blessing and our curse,

The paradox fulfilled.

And your part in this, little bird,

Who some so dread and fear;

Is nothing more than novocaine,

To sooth the heart and wipe the tear.

To balance the books and square the math,

To grant the joy that is owed;

To those whom lent theirs unto others,

Who stole it while claiming ’twas borrowed’.

Say once more your name, little bird;

Say once more—

“Avvi, avvi.”

No more pain, no more sorrow;

No more suffering, no more hollow.

No more hurt, no more grief;

No more carry a broken belief.

For all forsaken, for misbegotten;

For those who feel they are forgotten:

Come shelter ‘neath the snowy wing,

And discover all you were seeking.

O lost, O longing, O lonely, come near;

Find purpose, find power, find peace, right here.

When the little bird calls, go with no shame;

And always remember your advocate’s name:

“Avvi, avvi—

Come to me, come to me.”

Event Log: Darrow Bennion

Avvikerene: The Decadent Forest

12/15/12764 10:52pm SGT

“Edges still look clear.” I say as I return from doing a circuit of the top of the pillar. Since it’s all rock up here, Whisper isn’t able to drive her sword into the ground, meaning that we’re camping without the protection of the fireline tonight. Instead, one of the surviving camping lanterns has been set up in a dip in the pillar that has formed due to years of rain erosion. Whisper is sitting near it, while Kwyn is curled up on her side with her back to it. “You sure it’s safe?”

“I’m not sure it’s safe, but it’s what we have to make do with tonight.” Whisper says, sheathing her sword and setting it aside. “It’s high up enough that the air’s clear, and we won’t be breathing all the stuff that’s drifting through the forest. And that means you get to be out of your armor for the first time in days.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I could really go for a shower. I just feel grimy all over.” I say, sitting down next the lantern. The Axiom suit is parked next to the lantern as well, acting as a windbreak for the lowest side of the dip that we’re in. I’m in my plugsuit, itching to take it off and jump in the nearest body of water I can find. It’s been a while since I went on an assignment that didn’t have hygiene facilities close at hand. “The moment we get back to the ship, I’m getting into a bathtub and I’m not coming out until I’ve soaked every last speck of grime off my body.”

“Amen to that.” Whisper agrees, folding her arms and resting them on her knees. “We’re getting close. At this point, I think we’re only looking at two, maybe three more days before we can get out of here. And after everything we’ve been through, CURSE will owe us a vacation when we get back to the HQ.”

I purse my lips at that. That brings something to mind that’s been bothering me, and I’m not sure I should bring it up — everyone’s nerves have been raw the last several days. But it’s something I want to know before we’re back on the ship. “Did the administration know? What they were getting us into?”

Whisper glances at me, then quickly looks back to the lantern, taking a deep breath as if to brace herself for the conversation. “Somewhat. Not really. I told them about Avvikerene’s dangers, but they didn’t really understand. There’s a difference between knowing a danger, and actually understanding it. And it’s hard to understand Avvikerene’s dangers if you haven’t experienced them yourself.”

“S’ppose that’s fair.” I sigh, holding my hands out so the pale yellow heat coming off the lantern can warm my fingers. “After we get the artifact and get out of here, there should never be a reason to come here again, right? So no one else will have to go through what we’ve gone through.”

“You’d figure. But I’d never thought CURSE would have a reason to send people here in the first place, and look at where we are now.” Whisper says, looking over her shoulder. “There’s a lot on Avvikerene. Valuable things that can only be acquired here. Things that have been lost. I figure there would never be a reason for CURSE to send anyone to Avvikerene after this, but who knows. Maybe in the future, they’ll stumble upon some other piece of intel about something valuable that’s been lost on Avvikerene. Send out a new batch of clueless fools to go retrieve it.”

“Well. Kwyn and I are clueless. You at least have some idea of what you’re doing here.” I point out.

“Yeah.” Whisper concedes softly.

We lapse into silence with that, left with only the faint hum of the camping lantern and the gusting wind overhead to fill the quiet. I glance at Kwyn; she hasn’t moved in the last fifteen minutes or so, and I can’t tell if she’s asleep, or just laying quiet. It’s hard to tell with her back facing to us, but seeing her at rest reminds me I should probably be doing the same.

“I didn’t tell you two that I’d been here before because I didn’t want it to change the way you saw me.” Whisper says suddenly, and without prompting. I look at her, taken a bit off guard, to find she’s staring at the camping lantern. “It was something that happened a long time ago. Three centuries, roughly. I was a very different person back then. I was young, and still trying to figure things out. Figure myself out.”

I don’t know what to say to that admission. To me, it feels like it’s come out of nowhere; at every turn, Whisper has resisted our questions and prodding, refusing to shed any light on how she knows Avvikerene so well. I’ve been able to piece together some bits and pieces from how she navigates the forest, and the things that Sundew has said, but it’s still only a vague, partial picture. So this sudden reversal, this sudden honesty, is a bit surprising.

“I didn’t get along with my family. Didn’t agree with their worldview, their opinions, and I felt like I had to prove it by going out and being different. I felt like I had to prove to other people that I was not cut from the same mold as my family. Wanted to prove that my beliefs were just as legitimate as theirs.” Whisper goes on. “So I did that in a number of ways over the years, and at some point I had the brilliant idea to go to Avvikerene as a way of proving that. Proving that I was willing to take risks, and that we should not be afraid of dangerous things, and, and… I dunno. Probably something else stupid and misguided. I was young, and hotheaded, and did a lot of stupid things.”

There’s the sound of plating gritting over stone, and I look up to see Kwyn has rolled over slightly, so that she no longer has her back to us. She’s awake, and listening as Whisper comes clean with us.

“When I got here… there was a lot that happened.” Whisper puffs. “More than I can explain in one sitting. I won’t take you through all the sordid details. But I… ended up staying here for a long time, at least by the measure of most species. About two decades in total. And during that time, I met Sundew, and I was… very involved with her. I was one of her pets, one of her favorite playthings.” She pauses for a moment, taking a breath as if she was nerving up for her next words. “And I liked it. I enjoyed it. I was happy being her little kitten, and I gladly supported her with her other ambitions, because I believed in what Avvikerene could do for people. I believed in it because of what it did for me.”

“What did it do for you?” It’s the first words I’ve heard Kwyn say in the while, and her voice sounds rusty, as if from disuse — Kwyn seems to realize it, and quickly clears her throat afterwards.

Whisper rolls her bottom lip under her teeth, then opens one hand to vaguely motion to herself. “I am not… this was not the way I was born. I come from a family of tiger Calyri. I was a tiger Calyri. I was a striped redhead; I was also four or five inches taller than this. But I never really liked being that. I always envied the smaller Calyri. To me, that was the werecat ideal. Small. Cute. Sleek. And I never quite liked what I saw in the mirror, when I did look at them.”

“And that changed when you came to Avvikerene?” I guess.

“It changed when I met Sundew.” she says. “Sundew is a geneweaver. That’s why they call her Sundew Weaver. When I first came to Avvikerene, I found out she could rework people’s bodies. Shape them into the things they wanted to be. So I went looking for her, and once I’d found her and paid my dues, she helped turn me into what I am now. My vision of what an ideal Calyri was, what I thought a perfect form was. And I chose a black cat morph to reflect the way that I thought my family saw me: an outcast, a symbol of misfortune, an aberration.”

“Did it make you happy?” Kwyn asks, her tawny eyes fixed on Whisper.

Whisper looks at her hands. “…it did. It felt liberating. Exhilarating. I felt like I’d been given a second chance, a fresh start, an opportunity to remake myself. To decide who I would get to be, instead of letting the circumstances of my birth define that for me.” She pauses for a moment, then adds: “And I still do not regret it, three centuries later. I am glad that I made that choice, that I let Sundew shape me into what I am now. I am still happy with what I am, what I became. I still feel like an expression of the ideal Calyri; alluring and confident and capable.”

Gears are starting to click in my head as Whisper admits that Sundew shaped her into the version of Whisper that we’ve always known. “So if Sundew can reshape people, is that why…” I start to ask.

“Yes. That is why she was trying to figure out if you two were unhappy with what you were in the mindscape.” Whisper says, curling her hands shut. “It is the purpose of the Kotetsidokoro to help people find and discover themselves, to become the version of themselves that makes them feel whole and complete. That is why Sundew spent so much time getting to know each of you, trying to figure out what you desired, what you disliked about yourselves, what you would change if you had the chance. What she offered you, she fully intended to deliver on, to shape you into something that would make you feel more whole, more complete. She means well, even if it can seem a little overbearing.”

“And she would’ve changed us into the things that we told her we wanted to be, if we hadn’t escaped?” Kwyn asks as she starts to sit up. I’m noticing her questions are very focused and to the point, and the direction they’re leading in has me a little worried.

“She would’ve, yes. But you would’ve woken up with a flower in your hair as well.” Whisper says. “There is a price to pay for attaining your dreams, your ideal form. The Kotetsidokoro do not give their help freely; they expect something in return, and for Sundew, it is your submission. She is covetous; she collects people and keeps them under her control, to serve her and love her, so she never feels alone. She would’ve done the same thing with all of us if Dare had not managed to escape and rescue us.”

I rub my hands along my arms, remembering the talks I’d had with Sundew, and what she had offered me in the mindscape. “I won’t lie; when we were in the mindscape, she was… compelling. She made good points, and I was definitely tempted.”

Whisper looks at me. “Tempted to become something other than what you were. Anything other than what you were. Because all you are is human, with no powers, and you don’t feel special or unique.”

I grimace. “Guess I’m not the only one that remembers everything that we shared with each other in the mindscape.”

Whisper shakes her head. “I don’t blame you, Dare. I felt the same way once; there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be something more than what you were born as. Wishing to have a different hand than the one life dealt you.” She looks at Kwyn next, who averts her eyes, looking away. “And you’re really not too different from Dare, Kwyn. Frustrated with being human, wanting to be something just a little more than what you are. Wishing you had the things you envy the hybrid races for; wishing you had wings of your own and the courage to say all the things you feel but never express.”

Kwyn doesn’t reply to that, keeping her silence, and after a moment, Whisper gets up and walks around the lantern, crouching down in front of her. Kwyn keeps her gaze averted, but it isn’t deterring Whisper. “Look at me, Kwyn.”

Kwyn presses her lips together, shaking her head silently.

Whisper isn’t giving up, though. Reaching out, she gently takes Kwyn’s face in her hands, repeating her words. “Look at me, Kwyn.”

After a tense moment of biting her lip, Kwyn folds and looks at Whisper, tears gathering in her tawny eyes.

“There is nothing shameful about the things you feel, and the things you want.” Whisper says gently, using a thumb to wipe away some of those tears. “You’re mortal, just like the rest of us. You have physical needs and preferences, just like any other living creature. And we are not going to think of you as deviant for having some exotic or unusual desires. We are your friends, and besides, it would be hypocritical. You have seen our desires, just as we have seen yours. You are not the only one that is a little strange.”

“If it helps, I was surprised you two didn’t run off the moment you two saw what was in my head.” I add quietly.

Whisper sighs, rolling her eyes as she looks over her shoulder at me. “Dare, please. You’re tame compared to some of the shit I saw during my first stint on Avvikerene.”

I put my hands up. “Well jeez, now I’m offended. Am I not kinky enough for you, little miss shower sex enthusiast?”

That triggers a snort of laughter from Kwyn, who quickly covers her mouth. Whisper colors a little, but it doesn’t keep her from smirking. “All I’m saying is that you’re not nearly as spicy as you think you are. And trust me, I’ve seen some spice. Tasted a lot of it, too.”

“Cue the morbid curiosity.” I say, shaking my head. “But I agree with what Whisper said, Kwyn. We’re not going to judge you; we wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. You’ve seen into both of us; you know that we’re no better than you. It does change the way we look at each other, I have to admit that; it’d be impossible not to… but not in a way that would keep us from being friends. We still care about you. You’re still important to us; we still want you to have drinks with us at Gritter’s, to hang out with us when we’re watching holos, to come with us on work assignments. The things you secretly like aren’t going to change that.”

Kwyn swallows hard, wiping at one of her eyes. “Thanks.” she says, her voice thick and husky with emotion. “That… means a lot to me.”

Whisper brushes some of Kwyn’s hair out of her face. “We just need you to hang in there for a little longer. I know it’s been rough, but once we get the artifact and get back to the ship, we’ll have time to relax, and get ourselves together, and figure things out. You can handle that, right?”

Kwyn nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, you can count on me.”

“Good.” Whisper says, letting go of her and looking at me. “We should all start settling down to get some sleep. We’re going to need it, since we’ll be going into the final stretch soon.”

“I can take first watch.” I offer. “I slept pretty good last night, so I should be able to handle it without an issue. And you said as soon as the dawn comes tomorrow morning, you’ll know where we need to go, Whisper?”

“Yeah. I’ll take the second watch so I can be awake when dawn comes.” Whisper says, getting up and walking back to her original spot around the camp lantern. “You know the drill; wake us if there’s any trouble, or if you feel yourself getting drowsy.”

“I will.” I say, standing up as the two of them lay down. Scaling the side of the dip, I get up to the rim, taking a breath of the windy air at the peak. “Sleep well. I’ll come wake you when it’s time for your watch.”

Whisper gives me a nod as she lays down and starts getting comfortable, and Kwyn does the same. Turning my attention to the rocky peak roundabout, I run a hand through my hair, then start towards edge, so I can resume my circuit of the pillar’s top.

Just a little bit more, and we would be able to go back home.

Event Log: Ilyana Kemaim

Avvikerene: The Decadent Forest

12/17/12764 9:22am SGT

“Well.” Dare says, folding his arms. “I suppose that does explain a lot about how a Dragine artifact ended up here.”

I don’t say anything, though I do agree. Before us is what looks like a crashed interstellar cruiser, technically small by the standards of spaceships, but at least few hundred feet in length as it lies on the forest floor before us. It’s clearly been here for a while; the exterior coating has long since flaked off, allowing the elements to set into the hull and start rusting it. In places where rust has eaten holes in the exterior, flora has started to grow out of the interior, probably because of the accumulation of dust and dirt over the years. If there was once a clear area around the crash site, it’s long since been filled in by forest, which has closed up around the ship, hemming it in with trees and underbrush.

“It’s probably been here for decades, maybe centuries. I can’t even see any markings on its hull.” Kwyn says, shifting uneasily beside me. “Not that there’s much of it left. You can see some of the interior halls, even from here.”

“Are we still sticking to the plan?” Dare asks, reaching over his shoulder to grab the handle of his battleaxe, unlatching it from his back.

“Yes. Plan remains the same; I go for the artifact, you two deal with anything that comes our way.” I say, powering on my wrist pistols and turning to Kwyn, taking the back of her partial power armor and turning it towards myself. “We’ll need to activate the beacon now, because it’s going to take the gunship at least fifteen minutes to get down here, possibly more.”

“Wait, shouldn’t I take the beacon off first?” she asks as I twist the cylindrical module clamped to her backplate, breaking the seal and extending the top half of it upwards.

“No. I want to make sure the gunship’s at least able to locate you, if it’s not able to locate Dare or myself.” I reply, twisting the confirmation switches within the opening on the beacon. The interior starts oscillating a slow red glow, indicating that the beacon’s active. “The first signal burst will be strong enough to break through the ambient magical radiation and reach orbit, but after that it’ll only have enough power to continue broadcasting to a local area. The gunship won’t be able to pin down the beacon’s exact location until it’s within a mile or so.”

“That’s just a precaution though, right? We’re all planning on getting out of here, right?” she asks, looking concerned as I let her go.

“That’s the plan. But if things go wrong, we want to make sure they’re at least able to get you out.” Dare says, igniting the plasma blades of his battleaxe. “I’m ready to go if you guys are.”

“I’m not ready, but let’s do it anyway.” I say, drawing my shortsword and setting it afire with a word. “Kwyn?”

She takes a deep breath, a trio of spirit wolves splitting off of her and fanning out into the underbrush ahead of us. We follow behind them by several feet, only walking in the places they’ve walked as they clear the way ahead, skirting around traps as they come across them. We’re making good progress, almost halfway to the crashed ship, when a singsong humming starts to emanate from the forest around us.

“I’ll give you one last chance. Make you that offer one last time. Give me the girl and you can have the artifact. Refuse me, and I will take both.”

“Don’t stop.” I say to Kwyn, watching my side while Dare does the same on the other side. “She’s trying slow us down, stall for time. Keep moving forward.”

“Well, I tried to be nice about it. Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

There’s an immediate sound of rustling from deeper in the woods, and I turn to see something large charging through the underbrush, and picking up speed. It looks like a bison Halfie, but I’m not staying to find out. “Dare!”

“I gotchu.” he says, lowering the head of his axe so it’s almost flat, and near to the ground. I jump onto it and crouch down, and he gives a mighty heave, launching me towards the ship like I’m being flung out of a catapult. As I hurtle through the air, I notice arachne hybrids descending from the trees overhead — humanoids with extra arms and spinnerets on the tips of their fingers. They’re not close enough to grab me, but Dare and Kwyn will be dealing with them soon enough.

Putting my arms and legs forward, I land on an intact portion of the hull with a grunt, looking over my shoulder and shouting back to them. “Dare, Kwyn! Heads up! Eyes on the sky!” After that, I let myself slide down the hull until I can hook my boot on the rim of one of the rusted holes, and swing myself into the ship proper.

A shower of dust and rust follows me as I drop to the paneled floor, which creaks uncomfortably beneath my weight; now that I’m inside, the sounds of combat are muted through the decaying hull. Reaching in my jacket, I pull out the compass potion we’d gotten from Coco two weeks ago, pulling out the stopper with my teeth and tossing the vial back. It goes down hard, tasting thoroughly metallic, and I find myself wishing I had something to wash away the aftertaste. But I also feel an inexplicable sense of direction, leading me down the hallway that I’m currently in, to an adjoining corridor, and deeper into the ship.

I don’t hesitate to follow it, using my flaming sword to keep things illuminated as I delve into the vessel. Clues about its design and purpose start to pile up the deeper I go; some of the open doors lead to labs, and the holoarrays installed in the hallways could indicate ubiquitous computer access, or a ship AI that could establish its presence outside of designated rooms. The more I see, the more I’m inclined to believe this was once a science vessel, one probably owned by a Marshy corporation or institution.

The compass potion, though, does not lead me to any of the labs, or the ship’s bridge; instead, it directs me along towards the back of the vessel, where the engineering section seems to be located. I realize that I’m getting close to what would’ve been the drive rooms and the fusion core, and after squeezing through a half-opened bulwark door leading into the core room, I can see why: instead of the usual fusion reactor that powers the vast majority of interstellar ships, this one appears to have been replaced by a converter that was built around a spherical Dragine artifact, no larger than an orange and more or less identical to the one that Kwyn and I had found at the CURSE storage site months earlier. The ship’s crew were using this artifact as the ship’s primary power source, instead of a traditional fusion core.

Stepping into the control room, I can see that the reactor room looks like it’s been breached by plants in a way that seems intentional and concerted. Vines and roots have pried their way in from hallways, and weakened seams in the room; the control room is no exception, with vines winding over the defunct control screens. On top of that, the airlock door between the control room and the reactor room has been pried out of place and torn off its hinges by a set of roots that now hold the crumpled frame off to the side of the reactor room. All of this looks like it happened a long time ago, though; there is dust on the crumpled airlock door, and shards of broken glass look like they’ve mostly been subsumed by the dirt and vines on the floor.

I move straight for the breached airlock, stepping through into the reactor room; under different circumstances, it’d be smarter to check and see if there was any leftover radiation permeating the room. Right now, all that mattered was that I get the artifact and get back out to Kwyn and Dare, so I immediately start making my way through the reactor room to the converter at the center of it, jumping coolant pipes and magnet arrays that would normally help control a fusion core.

It’s as I’m clambering up the converter assembly itself that I feel something snag around my ankle, and yank. I slip down a couple feet, and have to drop my sword to use both hands and keep myself from bashing my face on one of the lower converter pipes. The fire goes out as the sword leaves my hand, clattering onto the ledge that the converter sits on, and before I can reach for it, I feel something snake around my stomach and yank me into the air. Flailing for balance as I’m pulled up towards the ceiling, I look down to see a fresh vine around my midsection, along with one winding around my ankle. Another one slips around my shoulder, then my wrist and my other leg, all winding around me as I’m pulled flat against the ceiling of the reactor room.

“You got here a lot faster than I thought you would.” The voice comes from the breached airlock, where Sundew is stepping through into the reactor room. Today her skirt is made of deep violet leaves, while her crop top is a rich red, and there’s a belt of blue spirit blooms hung around her waist. “No doubling back, no getting lost in the halls — it’s almost like you knew exactly where to go. Anything you’d like to tell me?”

I open my mouth and give her a Calyri hiss. “Do not test me today, Sundew. Let me go and I won’t tear you a new one.”

Sundew raises an eyebrow as she stares up at me. “You don’t look like you’re in a position to be doing anything right now. What’s the big deal with the artifact, anyhow? What do you want it for? I know you’re not the type to care about money, so you don’t want to sell it. And you’ve never been someone that cares about the spotlight, so it couldn’t be for the prestige. Do you have some insight into what this artifact is supposed to do?”

I scowl at her. “It’ll be going to better use than what you’re using it for.”

She smirks as she makes her way through the reactor room’s fixtures. “So you don’t actually know what it does. If you don’t want it for the money, you don’t want it for the fame, and you don’t know what it does, then you don’t actually want it. Which means that you’re here grabbing it on behalf of someone else. Your employer, isn’t it? You and your pets all work for the same organization. And what does your employer want it for?”

I don’t answer, because I don’t have an answer, and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of the truth. That I don’t know what CURSE wants it for, but also because CURSE doesn’t even know that the artifact does — that they only want it because it’s of Dragine provenance, and is valuable for that fact alone. Instead, I strain at vines, trying to find some give, but they’re only getting tighter the longer I’m up here.

“I know you well enough to know what dodging the question means, ‘Lyana.” Sundew says, working her way up the converter’s pipes and and cables. “You don’t have a good reason to go after this artifact, do you? You’re just doing it because you’ve been told to do it. That’s why you don’t want to trade the girl for the artifact — the artifact doesn’t mean anything to you, while the girl does.”

“I know what you’re planning to do with her.” I growl, baring my teeth at her. “And I will get her off this world long before you have a chance to get around to it.”

“Oh?” Sundew says, coming to stand on the ledge where I’d dropped my sword. “And what’s that?”

“You plan on taking her for yourself. I know that you envy the birthright that runs through Kwyn’s veins, and want it for yourself.” I glance to either side; my wrist pistols are still powered and active, I just can’t bring them to bear while I’m tied up in vines. “And I know about the fusion flowers.”

Sundew’s picked up my sword, but when she hears that last sentence, her fingers tighten around the hilt. The vines holding me to the ceiling suddenly put on some slack, lowering me to hang just above Sundew, and she tilts the blade to press the flat of it against my cheek. “You know a lot for someone who’s only been back a couple weeks, spicy little kitten. More than you would be able to find out on your own. Someone’s been helping you, haven’t they.”

While I’m tempted to have the satisfaction of telling her that her god wants to trim her wings a little, it doesn’t seem like a smart move to throw Avvi under the bus. “You didn’t just reveal Dare and Kwyn’s desires in the mindscape. You revealed yours, too.” I lie. “Took me a while to parse through what you wanted, but it became a bit clearer once I had a couple chats with your sycophants. And the offer you made to try and get Kwyn was all the confirmation I needed.”

Sundew slides the blade down until it tilts over my jaw, the edge resting against my neck. “Three centuries hasn’t dulled your wits, I see. Still sharp as ever.” She pulls the blade away to study the engraved letters along the fuller in the center. “It’s true; Kwyn is the only one among you three that I want… well, no, that I need. I need her; I want you; and that armored attack dog you two keep around, I could do without. Normally I’d try to break him, but it would take more effort than he’s worth, and he’s already killed me twice. What’s the saying out in the galaxy? I heard it makes the rounds in the Venusian breeder clubs… ‘some dogs are just too dangerous to be kept as pets’.”

“He’s not a dog.” I snarl at her.

“Oh?” Sundew says, flicking her eyes up at me. “Well, he didn’t seem entirely opposed to becoming a Dalayu. And you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t have to worry about outliving him by thousands of years.”

“That’s his choice to make, not mine.” I retort, quietly trying to get a feel for how much mobility I have while she’s got me hanging here like this.

“Then why don’t you let him make it?” Sundew counters just as quickly, lowering me a bit more so I’m eye to eye with her. “You came here and you got your dream. I granted your wish. I remade you into your vision of your perfect self. But you would withhold that same opportunity from the friends you claim to care so much about?”

“You don’t actually care about giving them what they want; all you want is Kwyn.” I growl at her. “It’s not enough for you. It’s never been enough for you; you always coveted what others had, even during the decades that I was here the first time. It’s not enough that you have your own little domain, that you have yourself a harem of thralls and that you can be whatever you want to be. You always want more.”

“I want to grow. That’s what sylvans do, that’s what all plants do, we grow.” Sundew says, tossing my sword off to the side, and it clatters to the ground somewhere on the floor of the reactor room. “We live for hundreds of years, always growing, always becoming more. It’s in our nature to want to grow, to be more than what we are. There’s nothing unnatural about that. And Kwyn will help me grow, become more than what I presently am; become a better version of what I am. She stands to benefit from it as well, since she’ll become more than she ever could’ve been on her own.”

“I don’t know what she wants to be, but I doubt she wants to be part of you.” I scoff.

“That’s because you’re jaded, and you lack imagination.” Sundew says as she reaches up, using her forefinger to move some of my hair back behind one of my ears. “You’ve lived so long, seen so much, that your mind is closed off to the possibilities that naïveté would’ve otherwise allowed you to consider. Kwyn is curious, like you were the first time you came here. She does not want to admit it, but she is. And I have much I would like to show her. To share with her.” Her finger traces down my cheek, and under my chin. “You could stay. Help me teach her, be part of that process.”

She leans in with that, giving me a kiss. Slow, quiet — and familiar. It’s been three centuries, but I still remember these kisses, how soft Sundew’s lips were, how her breath smelled like fresh-cut grass. I don’t lean into it — but I don’t resist it either, caught for a moment between my loyalty to my friends, and my suppressed desire to return to a more honest, simple way of living. To live without deception or restraint; to be myself, and to indulge my desires, instead of yearning for things held out of reach from me.

“What do you say, ‘Lyana?” Sundew murmurs as our kiss ends. “I’d be happy to have you back. And Avvikerene was always more home to you than anywhere else was. It was where you truly got to be yourself.”

“You’re not wrong.” I breathe, staring into her ocean eyes. “And it’s tempting. The longer I’m here, the most I think about it, the more appealing it becomes. I’m not sure I’ve got the strength to resist it… which is why I have to say… Arcadia.”

For Sundew, it doesn’t click until I burst into flame, a searing blaze that has her reeling back as it burns through the vines holding me. When I fall, I land on the ledge around the converter, and waste no time lunging further up onto it, squeezing into the center and snatching the matte-black sphere off the metal cradle where it was resting. As I shove it into my jacket’s internal pocket, I hear the creaking and groaning of metal around me, and I twist around to see roots wrapping around the converter assembly, constricting as they go.

“I didn’t want to do this, ‘Lyana, but you’re not leaving me a choice anymore.” Sundew seethes as the roots start to crush the converter inwards. In a matter of seconds, the gap that I’d come through is now too small for me to get back out. “I thought it was just your attack dog that had Phoenix’s blessing, but if it’s all three of you, the gloves are coming off.”

“For what it’s worth, none of us worship her.” I quip before morphing down into a black cat, and squeezing through one of the few remaining gaps in the converter assembly. As soon as I’m out, I jump off the convertor, falling through the air and landing back on the floor of the reactor room, morphing back into a person the moment my paws touch the floor. I start running back towards the control room, scooping up my sword on my way there; I’m still covered in flames, feeling the redeeming fire flowing through me and burning all the airborne agents out of my system. For the first time in days, I feel like I’ve got a clear head, and I’m not constantly being distracted by stray thoughts or impulses. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Sundew demands, stepping onto one of the roots as they turn and start to form a bridge across the room. Vines snake towards me, trying to catch around my limbs and trip me up; I slash at them as I run, and the ones that do manage to wrap about me only slow me down for a few seconds before cindering and burning away. “You have nowhere to run, ‘Lyana. Even if you escape this ship, you’ll step back out into my forest. My domain. And that fire cannot protect you forever. It will burn out eventually, as all fires do.”

“We’ll see about that. I’m pretty good at hide and seek.” Again, I’m tempted to tell Sundew that my escape ticket is on its way here, to rub it in her face, but that would be unwise. If she realizes that we’re minutes away from escaping her, she’ll pull out all the stops, and we might be screwed if she does. I want her to take it slow, to feel like she has all the time in the world to run us down.

“You think you can hide from me in my own forest?” The roots near the control room twist and start to move when Sundew realizes that the vines can’t stop me. The gnarled arms of wood release the crumpled airlock door, and start to grow towards the doorway itself. “You know better than that, ‘Lyana. I am the Decadent Forest; my roots permeate its ground and reach into every tree, shrub, and fern beneath its canopy. There is nowhere in this forest you can hide that I will not know it—”

“I dunno, that pillar we camped on a couple days ago didn’t have a ton of plants on it.” I jab, vaulting one of the magnet arrays before sprinting up the ramp ringing the side of the reactor room. The roots have reached the airlock doorway, and are starting to latch onto it and spread outwards. “And for what it’s worth, your ego seems like it’s gotten a lot bigger over the last three centuries.”

“What can I say. You weren’t here to keep it in check.” Sundew says as she nears the control room on her bridge of roots. “But you could always stay and help fix that.”

“Hard pass.” I say, sliding under the clot of gnarled branches starting to fill the airlock doorway. “I got a couple cute humans I wanna show the ropes; I’ll have my hands full trying to manage the two of them.” Popping back to my feet in the control room, I turn around and give Sundew a smarmy salute through the reinforced glass. “Besides, seems like you found another kitten to replace me. Wouldn’t want to horn in on that spotty yellow slut you keep sending to spy on us.”

With that, I skip backwards, squeezing through the jammed door to the core rooms. I know she’ll be after me soon enough, so I waste no time in loping back the way I came, following the influence of the compass potion as it leads me back through the ship and towards Kwyn and Dare. It isn’t long before I’m seeing glimpses of light through parts of the breached hull, and once I reach one of the rusted holes that’s low enough to climb through, I climb through it, sliding down the side of the crashed ship and back into the sea of ferns outside.

“Whisper! Did you get the artifact?” Dare’s voice is amplified by his suit as he uses the antigravity hammer on the end of his axe to send another arachne flying into the woods. The Axiom suit looks like it’s sustained some damage; it’s battered and sparking in some places, probably courtesy of dead bison Halfie lying not far from him. The scent of burnt fur and flesh wafts through the forest, strong and acrid.

“I’ve got it!” I shout back as I pelt towards him, leaving a trail of burning ferns in my wake. Kwyn is close to Dare, using her pack of spirit wolves to keep back another trio of arachne. I notice, on my way there, that the ground is strewn with arachne corpses, fallen and half-hidden beneath the ferns. “How you guys holding up?”

Kwyn glances towards me, then swings her plasma pistol up to fire into the air above me. There’s the sizzling splash-hiss of a plasma bolt slamming into a body, and a couple seconds later, an arachne falls to the ground a few feet from me, squirming from the scorch crater on its side. “There’s so goddamn many, and they just keep coming—”

She’s cut off as one of the arachne vaults over her wolves, landing on her back; with its extra limbs, it’s able to grab her arms, use another set of hands to cover her helm, and the last pair of arms starts feeling up her armor to find a weak point where it can bite and inject paralytic venom. Staggered and thrown off balance, with her arms pinned to her side, she’s unable to dislodge the human spider, and I can’t get a clear shot on it with how it’s latched to her.

“Dare!” I shout. He shoves away another arachne, turning towards me, then sees Kwyn, and instantly moves towards her. One armored hand shoots out, seizing the arachne by the neck, and I see the plates along his arm all contract as the servos kick into overdrive. There’s a grisly, wet crunch, and the arachne goes limp as its neck is snapped. Yanking it off Kwyn, he throws it to the ground, raising a leg and slamming the suit’s boot down on its head out of view.

I fire a couple plasma bolts at the other two arachne as I reach Kwyn, steadying her as she pants and gets her breath back, her wolves flickering from the break in her focus. She flinches when she realizes I’m on fire, and starts to pull back on reflex, but relaxes when she sees it isn’t burning her. “You alright, Junior?” I ask, keeping an eye on our surroundings out of my peripheral vision. I can see more arachne converging on our location, some scampering through the underbrush, while others skitter along in the trees from branch to branch.

“Yeah, I— I think.” she pants, her attention going to the remaining two arachne. Her wolves regain definition, sinking their teeth into them and pulling them down, whipping their heads from side to side as they try to tear the attackers limb from limb. And being as they’re young arachne, it does work — arms come off as easily as you’d pick legs off a spider, bones snap like brittle twigs and skin tears like paper. There’s a rare fury in Kwyn’s eyes, something born of fear and adrenaline. “Why are there so many of them? Where are they coming from?”

“There’s an arachne grove nearby.” comes a voice from above. We both look up to see Miari slouched on a branch in a tree a little ways from us, about twenty or thirty feet up, lazily swinging a leg back and forth as she watches us with an amused expression. “Sunny Dee allowed them to establish a grove nearby on the condition that the matriarchs would send their young to defend the area if she demanded it.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” I snarl at her. “Just sitting up there all smug, letting the spiders do your work for you.”

“Oh, it’s not just her.” Mosha swings around the other side of the tree, stepping onto an adjacent branch and crouching down. “We took a bet on how many arachne would die before you three fell. And besides, we didn’t want to get in their way when they were told they could eat something other than each other and whatever wanders into their grove. They get real excited when they’re allowed to go hunt adventurers that haven’t been lured into their territory.”

“A piece of work, times two. You two are just awful.” I spit, stabbing my blade down into the ground. A fireline blazes to life around us, and the arachne on the forest floor pull up just short of the hovering ring of flames. The ones in the trees keep coming, finding good branches where they can tie a line of silk and descend towards us — Kwyn and I are staying on top of that, shooting them out of the air, while Dare is cleaning up any of the ones that make it to the ground alive. “I guess Sundew doesn’t bother with quality control for her thralls anymore.”

Miari smirks. “And here I was thinking that we were the new and upgraded models of…” She makes a little flicking motion towards me. “…whatever you used to be. I imagine Sunny Dee’s learned a lot in the last three centuries; if you swallow your pride and come back to her, she could probably give you a few genetic tweaks, tune-up of sorts.”

“Maybe she could wipe away some of those scars you’ve probably picked up over the last three hundred years.” Mosha adds, holding out his arms to show off his physique. “She does good cosmetic work. Me and Miari can attest to that — the body is a canvas, and we are some of her masterpieces, but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind revisiting an old project. Give it a few polishing touches.”

That spikes my temper, and I swing one of the wrist pistols up to aim a shot at him — only to get a dry click. “Shit.” I hiss, realizing that they’re finally starting to run dry after two weeks of traipsing through this green hell. “Dare, Kwyn, heads up, I’m down to one wrist pistol.”

“Not sure how long mine will last ei—” Kwyn starts to reply, then suddenly folds to one knee as if she’d been yanked down. “Roots coming through the ground! She’s here!”

It’s not just the ground; the trees around us are starting to groan and move, while the earth around us is starting to churn as roots and vines move through it. The arachne chitter and start to back off, running away or climbing back up their silk lines. Casting about, I try to track down Sundew among the writhing foliage— if we don’t stay ahead of this, she’s going to root us all, and we’ll end up captured just like we were last time.

“Sunnnnny! Can you keep the big one alive?” Miari chirps from her perch in the tree. I take note of the direction she’s shouting in, and follow it to find that Sundew’s sauntering through the ferns towards us. “I still want to play with him, even though he decked me in the stomach!”

“Only if he yields. He’s caused me enough trouble already.” Sundew says, a motion of her hand sending roots erupting from the ground within the fireline.

“Dare!” I shout, pelting towards him and snatching my sword out of the ground as I go. “Throw me!”

He pivots towards me, holding his free arm out, and I jump towards it, twisting as I do so. Catching me by the back, he swings around, heaving me through the air towards Sundew. While his aim isn’t perfect, I’m still going to be able to take a swing at her when I land, and I wind up my sword arm for flaming slash.

Only to find a snaptrap plant bursting through the ferns, the massive leaves closing around me and snatching me out of the air right before I reach Sundew.

“Oh C’MON!” I shout as the leaves constrict around me, leaving me with almost no room to move. Snaptraps are carnivorous plants, and Sundew uses them to guard parts of the forest that are supposed to be off-limits. Normally it’d be dark when one eats you, but I’m still lit up with Phoenix’s fire, which is beginning to char the inside of the snaptrap. I twist and writhe, but I still don’t have a lot of room to move, and my sword’s stuck at an awkward angle where I can’t bring it to bear. The sounds of fighting outside are muffled through the thick leaves, and while I’m certain that the divine fire will eventually burn through them, it’s not doing it fast enough for my liking.

“Dammit dammit dammit dammit DAMMIT!” I seethe as the interior of the snaptrap starts to cinder and fray. Reaffirming my grip on my sword, I start to will all the fire enfolding me to flow onto the blade instead, and it starts moving in that direction, beginning to concentrate into a white-hot blaze. In seconds, it begins eating away at the leaves it’s pressing against, until it pokes through the outside of the snaptrap — and the hole only burns larger from there as fresh air starts to rush in. Though my arm is still pinned to my side, I’m able to tilt the blade and keep it against the edge of the hole, which continues cindering outwards. The leaves start to loosen as the snaptrap starts to lose structure and support, and I begin to wriggle and twist my way free, searing an ugly, flaming gash across the plant as I do so.

I’m eventually able to slice my way out of the snaptrap, which sags as I fall out of it and back to the forest floor. Scrambling to get back upright, I almost immediately find myself embroiled in a tangle of churning flora, my sword yanked out of my grasp by roots as vines wrap around my limbs and neck, drawing me up into the air towards the branches they’re draped on. From up here, I can see that Dare’s likewise been separated from his axe and immobilized in a cage of thick, knotted roots, while Miari and Mosha have descended from their tree, and are restraining Kwyn. Miari’s looped her arms under Kwyn’s, with her hands clamped on the back of her head, keeping her from moving, while Mosha is standing a few feet from them, both hands up and maintaining a pale blue circle of light around Kwyn. I’m not entirely sure what it is, since I’m no magical expert, but it seems like it’s preventing Kwyn from splitting off any spirit wolves.

And as for Sundew, it seemed like she was waiting for me to break free, because she’s watching me as the vines tangle me up and haul me into the air. With Dare trapped, and Miari and Mosha restraining Kwyn, all that was left was for her to capture me (again). My sword’s still blazing with the divine fire, but it’s lying on the floor of the forest, and I’m no longer protected by its heat.

“Did you all really think you would be able to defeat me?” Sundew says, giving me a perplexed look. “I sincerely want to know. I am really struggling to understand how you thought you might be able to win or escape.”

“Don’t count us out yet.” I growl at her. “It ain’t over til they ring the bell, and I haven’t heard no bell.”

“And you still think you can win?” Sundew says, her brow furrowing. “I want to understand, I do, but I just can’t fathom what chance you think you have. Have you forgotten what the Kotetsidokoro are? What we are capable of? You are in my forest, where I can find and monitor you with ease. Those that live within this forest answer to me, and yield when I command. I have the gift of absolute mutability, a fragment of Avvi’s very own divinity; I can be whatever I wish, though I choose to manifest as this. And this forest, my domain, practically oozes and throbs with raw magic, more power than any of you could comprehend — and I am using only a fraction of it, as a matter of giving you a sporting chance. You come here with almost no magic to your name, with guns and fire, of which you have a limited supply, and your own meager mortal strength — and you thought you could defy the Decadent Forest in all its wild, untamed glory?” Sundew looks genuinely confused as she stares up at me. “I thought you knew better than that, ‘Lyana.”

“To my credit, you weren’t this strong three hundred years ago.” I say through gritted teeth. At this point, I’m stalling for time so that the gunship can get down here, and if indulging Sundew’s monologues is what it takes, I’ll play along. “But you’re just as hungry as you ever were. All this power, a forest oozing with magic and sycophants, and it’s still not enough for you. You’re always looking for more. Where does it end? Are you going to start eyeing up the turf of the other Kotetsidokoro? Overthrowing Avvi and taking their place?”

Sundew tilts her head to the side. “Oh, now that is a tempting idea. Taking Avvi’s place, ruling over Avvikerene… I think I would like that. But there’s some steps I would have to take before I get there…” She turns, looking at Kwyn. “…and your friend is one of them.”

I renew my struggling in the cocoon of vines, trying to wriggle my way free. “SUNDEW! Don’t you dare, I swear to Sylak if you so much as touch her—”

“It’s not good form to swear to the gods you’ve spent your life thumbing your nose at, ‘Lyana.” Sundew says, reaching up to the back of her neck. It’s hidden from view, but I know she’s prying a siren seed out of one of the spots where they germinate from her neck. “Honestly, I’m surprised that Phoenix answered your call. I can only assume she did so because someone with greater faith than yours was vouching for you.”

Kwyn sees Sundew moving towards her, and tries to break free, but Miari isn’t having it; her hold on Kwyn remains steadfast, keeping her on her knees and in place while Mosha keeps her spirit wolves suppressed. Finding I can’t thrash my way free, I turn my attention to Dare. “Dare! C’mon, do something! Can’t you use your Spark?”

Dare looks at me, but that’s about all he can do — the roots wrapped around him have him pinned flat against the ground, and there several layers of them, to the point where he’s almost hidden from view. After a moment, he turns his helm towards Kwyn, and surprisingly, it folds back and retracts into the collar of his power armor, so we can actually see his face. “Kwyn.” he calls, and I can hear the fatigue in his voice. He’s tired, and this journey has worn him down, not just physically, but mentally as well.

Kwyn turns her head towards Dare, at least a much as she can while she’s restrained. I can see the growing fear and anxiety in her tense posture, but for a second it seems pause when she locks eyes with Dare. There’s a calmness to the way he’s lying there, as if he’s accepted that he’s reached the end of what he can do.

Then he gives her a wistful smile. “I’m proud of you.” Gentle, and simple.

Kwyn doesn’t move for a moment. Eventually, she closes her eyes and lets her head hang down; Sundew reaches her, hooking her fingers in Kwyn’s shattered visor and pulling her helm off. As her white hair spills loose and Sundew lazily drops the helm on the ground, Kwyn opens her eyes again — and this time, her tawny irises are lit with a golden fire.

“Let me go.” she rasps, glaring up at Sundew as best she can when Miari’s keeping her head pushed forward.

“Not for the world.” Sundew refuses, reaching down to take her head and hold it still.

“Then I’ll burn your world to the ground.” Kwyn seethes. “Arcadia.”

Even though I know what’s coming next, I didn’t expect it to be so violent. I don’t know what it looked like when Dare triggered Phoenix’s blessing, because I was unconscious at the time; and when I did it, I know I burst into flames. But Kwyn doesn’t just burst into flames.

She explodes.

It starts with her suit glowing for a second, immediately followed by a blast of fire that shatters the barrier that Mosha put up. Miari catches the worst of the blaze; she screeches, instantly letting go of Kwyn as her entire front is scorched, clothes reduced to ash as her skin burns and sears. The same thing happens to the hand that Sundew was using to hold Kwyn’s head still; all three of them scramble to put some distance between them and Kwyn, with Miari outright fleeing, screaming as she tries to put out the full-frontal scorching she just got. Kwyn immediately gets to her feet, with the white-hot blaze around her quickly expanding as something takes shape behind it. In a matter of seconds, it’s blossomed into Kwyn’s singular, fifteen-foot tall spirit wolf — except this time it’s coated in divine fire that’s torching every inch of foliage near it.

“Sunny…!” Mosha shouts, staggering back as he keeps his arms up to shield himself from the heat.

“Leave. I will handle—” Sundew starts to order, then finds herself cut off when the blazing wolf lunges at her, jaws gaping. The only reason she’s not bitten in half is because a tangle of roots plow through the ground on either side of her, keeping the jaws from snapping shut around her. Even so, the roots cinder and char beneath the ghostly teeth, which grind and gnash at the wooden barrier while Sundew keeps pulling up new roots to reinforce it.

That leaves me struggling again to get free, while Mosha flees the growing conflagration. It unfortunately hasn’t gotten any easier — the vines are still tight, and hanging from the branches like I am, I’ve got no leverage to work with. I can see Kwyn making her way towards Dare, setting her blazing hands to the roots binding him to the ground; they char and burn away on contact, and in seconds, he’s able to wrest his way free. As he gets back to his feet, he nods to her, and starts charging in my direction, picking up his axe as he goes.

“I will NOT be undone by some inexperienced child.” Sundew hisses as she starts to run out of roots to protect her from the flaming jaws. “I am Kotetsidokoro, one of the children of Avvi, an angel of the Infinite Sin. I have NOT come this far to be put to shame by mortals!”

With that, she twists and morphs into a massive green snake, whose scales are shaped like overlapping leaves. Coiling up on the spot, she strikes at Kwyn’s wolf, sparks flying as the impact knocks it to the side, while the flames scorch Sundew’s scales. And I don’t see much more past that, because Dare is jumping up towards me, boosted by the jets on his power armor as he gets an arm around me. With the other, he uses his battleaxe to slash through the vines holding me up, the jets flaring to soften our arrival back to the ground.

“Thanks.” I say as he gingerly uses the plasma-bladed edge of his axe to torch the vines tangled around me. “Are you okay?”

“Not until we get out of here with everyone alive.” he says as I yank the singed vines off. “How much longer until our extraction gets here, do you think?”

“I don’t know. However long it is, I hope Kwyn can keep it up for that long.” I say, scrambling back to my feet. “We’ve gotta buy her as much time as possible.”

“I can do that.” He doesn’t hesitate, his helm reengaging over his head as he turns and charges towards Sundew with his battleaxe in both hands. As for myself, I start searching the forest floor for my sword — only to find that when I finally locate it, the divine fire on the blade is starting to dwindle and fade.

A loud hissing and thrashing grabs my attention; I whip around to see that Dare has taken his battleaxe to one of Sundew’s coils like a lumberjack going to town on a fallen tree, drawing sappy blood. The subsequent thrashing of the scaly coils catches him hard enough to throw him across the clearing, slamming into one of the trees; I see electricity arc over the plates of his suit as one of his power relays pops. While Sundew’s distracted, Kwyn’s wolf lunges forward again, its jaws snapping shut around the Sundew’s neck, and it immediately begins whipping its head back and forth like canines usually do when they catch prey. It’s a technique used to break the prey’s neck, and that seems like what Kwyn is going for here.

I sprint over to Dare while that struggle is happening, and now it’s my turn to help him up. His motions seem a bit stiffer, which is a sign that his suit’s sustained some servomotor damage. “You good?”

“Still in it to win it.” he grunts, lumbering right back towards Sundew and Kwyn.

I keep pace with him, both of us closing on the pair; it seems like Kwyn’s got it in the bag, until giant snake swirls and shrinks, disappearing from the wolf’s jaws as Sundew morphs back into her sylvan self. Despite the change of form, the damage hasn’t gone away; the scorched bite marks are still visible on her neck, as well as on her arms and legs. Kwyn’s wolf doesn’t hesitate to lunge at her, but Sundew jerks a hand up, clenching it into a fist over her head — and a labyrinth of green vines lash out of the ground, wrapping around its neck, legs, and muzzle, yanking it to the ground with an earth-shaking slam. These vines aren’t like the other vines — they glitter and glow, as if they were made of raw magic, and they spark when they come in contact with the divine fire, instead of burning away.

And with that, Sundew jerks her upraised hand down, a spike of green light punching through the ground and spearing into the wolf’s chest.

It goes clear through, tearing through the transparent energy that composes the wolf. It jerks once, then starts disintegrating from the center outwards; Kwyn, who was standing near its shoulder, clutches her hands to her chestplate as if the spike had gone through her. She collapses to her knees, gasping as she braces a hand against the ground, with the other one still clutched to her chest, and I can see flecks of blood come up as she coughs.

“Dare!” I shout, starting to cut around to one side of Sundew. He sees what I’m doing and mirrors my movement to the other side as she whirls on us; I dive in for a thrust, while he swings at her neck. She spins on the spot, the motion bringing more vines lashing out of the ground around her, and blocking both attacks with showers of magical sparks.

But we don’t let up.

I’m back at her within a second, my blade seeking a gap in the vines, while Dare defaults to brute force and mighty, cleaving swings. Sundew ducks and weaves among the attacks, guiding the vines to block our blades, or to wrap around our limbs and yank us off balance just enough to miss her. There’s no words here, no smarmy dialogue; just cold focus and reactions, split-second decisions and unspoken agreements.

So when Sundew lashes a vine around my arm, hurling me over her head at Dare, he braces the haft of his axe across both hands, holding up so I can land on it and launch back off it. After I’ve done so, he swings his axe up, cutting through the vine that was binding me to Sundew, before boosting himself forward with his jets and shoulder-checking her. As she staggers backwards, I start to fall through the air, bringing my sword around to grip the hilt with both hands, holding it downwards. By the time she looks up, it’s too late; I slam into her, driving my sword down through her chest and out her back. With my boots planted on her shoulders, I kickflip off her, leaving my sword in her chest as I land back on Dare, crouching on his broad shoulder.

Sundew staggers back a few paces, touching a hand to the sword hilted in her chest. Though the flames on it are dwindling, they’re still charring the area around where she’s been impaled. It looks like she’s trying to catch her breath and process what just happened; after a moment, she looks up at us. A rustle and crunch in the burning foliage behind her grabs her attention; she turns around to find Kwyn standing behind her. She’s still got one hand clutched to her chest, but the other one comes up to grab the hilt sticking out of Sundew’s chest, holding her still.

Sundew gasps, grabbing Kwyn’s wrist. “I can give you everything you ever wanted, Kwyn.” she coughs. “I can make you into everything you always wanted to be… everything you wish you were.”

Kwyn hesitates for a moment. The temptation is palpable, and both Dare and I can sense how badly she wants that. Dare disengages his helm, and the sound of it retracting into his suit gets her attention — Kwyn’s golden irises shift, looking over Sundew’s shoulder at us. We stare back at her without a word — even if either of us could say anything, I’m not sure what we would say.

But perhaps the looks on our faces tell her everything she needs to know, because her glowing eyes shift back to Sundew, and her grip on the sword’s hilt tightens.

“I want to be someone my friends can be proud of.” she rasps. “And I’m the only one that can make myself into that.”

With that, Kwyn twists the blade, the fire around the pair of them swirling up into the likeness of a wolf’s head, the jaws stretched wide. After building to a searing heat, the maw slams shut on Sundew, her outline turning blurry as she’s incinerated on the spot. She becomes into an ashen shadow within the blaze, and when the wolven conflagration collapses and disintegrates, Kwyn is left holding my sword, with only a scattered pile of ash where Sundew once stood.

I slide down from Dare’s shoulder, and he holds out an arm to give me something to step down from on the way to the ground. Once I land, I run towards Kwyn as she folds to her knees again, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her close as she slumps against me. Dare follows over behind me, standing watch as I cradle her, and after a moment, he places an armored hand on my shoulder.

I glance up to him, and see that he’s looking up towards the sky, where the burning canopy is rippling as the underbelly of a gunship passes over it. Parking over our location, the hatch in the bottom slides back, and a cabled platform starts descending through the canopy towards us.

We did what we were sent here to do, and now it’s time to go home.