Alysyra froze under Nyxalraith’s expectant glare. She wished the other girl had found any of her reflections rather than teleporting directly to her home. At least then, she could ‘pop’ herself and vanish. Not for long, but twenty seconds of reprieve would have felt very nice right now.
Instead, she had no escape from Nyxalraith’s judgemental eyes.
Those eyes, unhidden by that vexing concealer. Eyes that spoke of an entity beyond herself, that swirled with power against the inky blacks of her whites. Those galaxies that, if it wouldn’t disturb Nyxalraith, Alysyra would freely lose herself to. She was obsessed with seeing their radiance out on display and unsuppressed.
But for those eyes to judge her in any way that wasn’t approving… Alysyra didn’t want that weight.
“Alͦy͚sy͚rã… you did make sure Ari reached safety, right?” More than a few echoes made it into Nyxalraith’s voice. That wouldn’t happen if she was nearly as calm as her tone pretended to be.
What was she supposed to say? Alysyra had hoped this conversation would never come up, and after two months of it not… well, she had been starting to think she was in the clear. Now? There was no way for her to squirm away from Nyxalraith’s focus. If only she’d seen this coming; her new Feat would have helped her avoid this mess.
Alysyra wanted to lie. To assure Nyxalraith that she’d seen Ari to the foot of some bunker then left her there protected. Whatever might have come after? Well, that was on Ari. But that wasn’t what happened, and staring into Nyxalraith’s eyes now, she knew this wasn’t the time for any of her little white lies that slipped past the Invow. She would accept nothing but the truth, and Alysyra was obliged to answer. Even if it painted herself in a bad light.
“I…” she hesitated, swallowing the lump of nervousness lodged in her throat. “Ari never went to the bunkers. She tried to find her own place in the upper levels, and I found no reason to stop her.”
Nyxalraith was quiet for a moment. “And yet you told me she was safe.”
“I did.” This was the part Alysyra dreaded most. “At the time, I thought it was for the best. She is obsessed with the Omen Artisans and given the opportunity, she would sell you out for a place.”
She didn’t want to keep speaking, to unveil her intent knowing how Nyxalraith considered Ari a friend, but there was no finagling herself into a lie. Not when truth was demanded. She wouldn’t even go so far as to soften her own stance… as much as she really wanted to.
“I didn’t touch her, but I felt it would be better if she was left to the cruelty of Coral. I had hoped for her death. That way, she could never stab us in the back as her obsession was so clearly leading to. Ari wasn’t like Dan. She wasn’t hesitant to join a cult. There was nothing there that you could latch onto to convince her away from the Omen Artisans as you have done for Dan.”
“You… lied to me?” The hurt on Nyxalraith’s face made Alysyra physically ill, but she couldn’t stop herself from continuing.
“I didn’t want you to know.” Alysyra wanted to escape through her reflections, but couldn’t. No, her soul was forced to focus upon Nyxalraith. “Ari was a distraction. An obstacle in your desire to eradicate the cults. If you knew she wasn’t safe, you would go looking for her — even though it was against your better interest — and the chances of her death would plummet.”
Nyxalraith stood slack-jawed. The tendrils at the side of her head were curled back defensively and her wings had slipped out into the open, half unfurled and ready to fly.
“After a few days… I changed my mind,” Alysyra said quietly. This was where she had some reparation, but as the words began to leave her mouth, they felt hollow. It felt like an excuse. An attempt to weasel out of Nyxalraith’s betrayed look. She still spoke them, but it was with quiet shame. “I realised that you would give her a chance — so long as she hadn’t yet taken that step into occultism — and I went looking for her. She was nowhere to be found. Even with all of my reflections, I haven’t been able to find her. I’ve not stopped looking, but…”
“And even then, you didn’t tell me.” Nyxalraith’s voice was hard. It struck Alysyra like a battering ram.
“You couldn’t know. I was ashamed. I was hoping I’d find her, then sweep it all under the rug and hope you never learned that I wanted one of your friends dead. But I failed.”
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Nyxalraith stood over Alysyra. She held an intimidating figure despite her stature. Alysyra hugged her knees as she pushed herself deeper into her corner. Never had she felt so unsettled. The next words to come from the other girl could crush her entire resolve to live. If Nyxalraith didn’t need her…
Maybe there was once a time where she didn’t care. Maybe in a world where things had gone differently, she still wouldn’t. But Alysyra did. She’d Invowed Nyxalraith’s name into her own and for better or worse — she had the wherewithal to realise she was inherently biased — Alysyra couldn’t imagine being without her.
After a long minute of silence that ground away at Alysyra like sandpaper, Nyxalraith let out a long-suffering sigh. The loud breath was full of irritation and frustration. Compared to hate-filled screams or a fury-fuelled silence, she almost broke down in relief. Nyxalraith’s hard glare stopped that short.
“Where did you last see her?”
“In the upper levels. Only a few down from where the accretion storm has cut through the safe zone.” Alysyra considered the place she’d found a couple of that girl’s black drawings stashed. “A pantry corrupted away from the kitchen it was connected to. I think they made a new one rather than trying to find and reconnect it.”
“Get up,” Nyxalraith said. “You’re coming with me.”
“What?” Alysyra startled. She glanced off to the side, where one of her reflections stood as an invisible guard beyond the door. “But…”
“You are going to help me find Ari. In person. Hopefully, she’s still alive, but if she isn’t, well…” Nyxalraith faced her head on, and she couldn’t hide from the dismay in her eyes. “Alͦy͚sy͚rã, you were supposed to be the one I could trust completely.”
‘You can!’ she wanted to scream, but she knew she’d fucked up. Her own perspective of Ari had painted the girl in a light divergent of Nyxalraith’s, and it had caused Alysyra to act against her intentions.
Gathering her feet under her, she rose. As much as she hated the idea of leaving her safe little abode, she didn’t oppose Nyxalraith. She didn’t mention how her reflections could do everything she could. This wasn’t about that. This was about Nyxalraith knowing she could trust Alysyra, and Alysyra doing everything she could to prove she wasn’t some rogue element working against Nyxalraith’s interests.
She was terrified, but that was nothing to push through for the betrayal Nyxalraith felt she’d been given. That was all because of Alysyra.
“Okay,” she said quietly. Any other words on her lips were lost as that Pink portal opened up and Nyxalraith swallowed her.
The journey was short, but the deep, soul-clutching hold of Pink had a way of making even a few seconds feel like hours. As she crumbled out on scuff-smoothed flooring panels, Alysyra tried to brush off the lingering effects.
They had landed only one tunnel away from a fairly well populated section of cultless. The ones that were able to make at least somewhat of a stable life for themselves, if not exactly living in abundance. She knew this alley. It took her a moment to orient herself with her own internal map, but as soon as she did, she leapt into motion.
Alysyra was determined to prove her reliance, even if she knew the likelihood of Ari still being amongst the living were… slim.
She waited a moment for Nyxalraith to reengage her concealer — smothering her instinctual disappointment at the loss of being able to witness those mutations — and led the other girl into the throng. Alysyra had a task. She ignored the cluster of homeless making a mess of the former residence of someone she knew had his own market stall of self-made ritual trinkets.
She ignored the same man’s dried husk lying not two metres from his front door.
If the place where she’d found Ari’s artwork was any further, she might have asked Nyxalraith to teleport them. Instead, they just needed to push past the crowd that parted for them. Ignore the corruption-sick bodies around them.
The Ill and hale alike kept their distance. It was a learned intuition by the many to steer clear of anyone who held themselves with the confidence that Nyxalraith did. Alysyra was a fourth evo in her own right, but with how uncomfortable she was with being outside, she was sure she’d get more attention than normal. At least, assuming she was alone. Good thing Nyxalraith glided along like she was ready stab the first person to get in her way. The intent almost visibly flowed off her.
Alysyra’s breathing grew easier once they left the populated tunnels and reached one of the tight service tunnels they needed to pass to reach Ari’s pantry. Despite all the mutations Nyxalraith hid, she seemingly had no problem squeezing through the tighter spaces. Once again, Alysyra wished she didn’t keep the concealer on as a default. She wanted to know how Nyxalraith was able to fit through that narrow gap that even Alysyra’s boring human shape barely could.
Eventually, they reached their destination. “This is the last place I know she was. I have no idea where to turn from here.” Alysyra opened what was once a vegetable drawer to reveal the pile of drawings.
Nyxalraith hummed as she approached Ari’s art. “There are a lot more than I remember. Just how many…” Her gaze cast across the room. “I don’t think she would have left them here if she was moving somewhere else. She seemed intent on hiding them away last time I saw them. She likely considers them too important to leave behind.”
What she didn’t say was clear: if Ari hadn’t come back to collect them, then nothing good had happened to her.
“I don’t know how effective they’ll be beyond my own network, but we could ask the Cultless?” Alysyra proposed.
“No. Well, not yet. It will take too long,” Nyxalraith huffed. “I’m already annoyed, so I might as well bleed some of it off with something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. Maybe he’ll have a way to hunt her down.”
Alysyra remembered the last time Nyxalraith summoned ‘someone’. She’d almost gone insane from proximity. “Who?”
“Euphoria.” She spat the name.
Oh great.
“This time,” Nyxalraith snarled. “He’s going to pay ten times over for the claw he stole.”