(Vol 2) Chapter 15: Hug Weaponization

Hope for the future tomorrow, light and understanding amidst the darkness, ties to the very makeup of what interacts with mirrors and illusion… again and again it called to me and feathered into my existence. Still does feather, considering I don’t have it yet. But on top of it all, I know it’ll be versatile and powerful…

And one day it will burn away the corruption. Or… something like that.

Those who had cognizance enough in their dreams to do so sent their approval and congratulations. Orswyth, Bast, Azure, Carlisle. Estara woke up in bubbly excitement about it and inevitably had to be given a sleep aid to get the rest Sammy insisted she get for the next day.

Gawd, I’m such a fucking mom, now… Mirror Mommy. Wait, no-

Tashome — a little later as though he’d been meditating on it — sent, “Somehow, after everything, this is especially comforting for me, but I’m not sure if that is just conceptually or has some tangible reason.”

He had been a bit different over the time since the battle. There was the dread of the curse hanging over him, the deepened confusion about the past, and then just the sheer weight of that past life. He hadn’t lost his cheer really, but the burden was obvious.

Sammy sent back, “We’ll see, my friend. Bit of a road to walk with what I have still, to get there. Anyway, how are you holding up? Feel the clock ticking I guess.”

“I’d almost rather it hurry up and get started than to wait for it to. I’ll manage though. Akaso says it’ll be good for me, toughen me up. The old bastard. He’s been talkative. Kind of annoying.”

“Who the hell is Akaso?”

“I never mentioned? The spirit invested in my armor. It’s almost a thousand years old. The armor, that is.”

“I… see. I thought you were joking when you said that to Wraevaus.”

“Well, I kind of was and I kind of wasn’t. The armor is very strong against cutting or chopping. He has a pet peeve about getting split. Seems like that attack got him agitated and woke him up. He's been animated.”

“Not literally, right? Animated?”

“What, hopping around on his own?” Tashome was amused. “No. Damn, that would be funny, though…”

“Yeah, it- Wait, did you just pun? It’s so subtle, I can’t tell.”

“You’ll never know.”

“Oaky-dokey, then. Hehe.”

“Cute. Really.”

“I do try!”

“Before the amusements, I was actually going to ask if you’re ok, too. Because I sense an echo of something significant still nagging you under the surface.”

“You’re a real empath, Tashome. I lost someone… only I was able to preserve their psyche still. It’s best I not say who yet, but yeah… It’s agonizing. It happened because I denied fate. Intuition. Not really understanding that I was at the time.”

“Growing pains, Goddess. But then, death is something most of us are just stuck with. Impressive that you’ve found a sidestep. Mind if I ask the details? Something with the mirrors, right? Like in the battle?”

Sammy related how her Mirror Maze ability could trap people for up to seven years, essentially separating their psyche from their body. She chose to relate the tale of Blum for an example, not getting detailed about Marjorie as yet.

“Terrifying except in a decent person’s hands like yourself,” Tashome sent after listening. “I know there are tales of another mirror entity that took people’s souls, long, long ago. Enough to believe it. I once read an account from a spirit that was written down in a collection, which said: ‘The terror of reflection offended the great wizard sorely, upon which suffering was reversed.’ Cryptic, unfortunately. As usual.”

“Currently my plan is to avoid great wizards. At any rate… In other news, I’m thinking about a more clothed, prepared, non-traumatizing version of the poolside meeting. Dream-based shenanigans, probably.”

“That would be great. Count me in. Clothed or otherwise. Quick-release robe, maybe, just like the old days.”

“Clothed! Well-clothed! We are not that kind of a cult!”

“Hey, I can be the sort of cult member I want to be with various other consenting adults.”

“Start your own cult for that!”

“Touche’, I suppose.”

Oh gods, I just thought of him as leading a cult of Stillwater, nooooo, I don’t need- I don’t need it in my head ahhh-

Sammy still had a few things she wanted to get done before the morning, and she had a little time. While it would have had a certain poetic quality to make her speech about light right at dawn, there was also the poetry that it hadn’t arrived yet technically. There was the element that they had to pray for it to see it truly arise.

She wanted some more guidance about a Mirror Line of Servitors, so she checked to see if Redberry was in a decent mood. At a slight ping, though, Redberry immediately reached out.

The imagery was suited to how she felt: an ancient wood in a swamp, covered in moss and bacterial bloom. Heavy, spooky, decaying. The hoot of owls, the slithers in the water of snakes — little breaks within the eerie calm. And then a random bat, just hanging out.

“Distract me from my misery, Moth,” Redberry sent with heavy weariness. “Be my beautiful idol of health and exuberance to dim the endless throbbing cadence in my head. Like a ringing lately.”

Sammy was exceptionally worried. “Your migraines are bad again? Is this normal?”

“The ringing? Newish. Something newish seems to blossom every few years to a decade or so. A festering growth slowly mutating.”

“Redberry… is it getting worse?”

There was no answer, and Sammy intuited it to be true. And then things snapped together like a puzzle.

Slowly but inexorably, it was worsening. The Dominion… perhaps they hadn’t truly failed after all. They were playing the long game — perhaps much longer than they would’ve supposed or liked — against a titanic will resisting in opposition… but it never stopped digging its way further in, never reduced in corruption, only increased.

A dark seed of agony and madness.

And if it were true, then Redberry retreated more and more not out of fear. Wanted to die not out of weakness. It was for self-sacrifice to preserve and protect what she loved the most: life. She may not have understood at first, thanks to the slowness. But she would’ve figured it out eventually, and then feared…

Sammy recalled that vision, that force of nature she’d felt from her, once upon a time. So powerful it had killed one of the Seven. It would be the opposite of life if unleashed on the world. It would be death.

“Oh, Red…” Sammy sent, her heart aching. “I’m so sorry…”

Sadness bubbled up in response from Red, then mixed quickly with wan exasperation. But she sent, “You are such a bright girl, Samantha. You have no idea how tempted I am to hope for you. That you have a love and a heart for my creations, that you could be their steward one day when I am gone… there’s nothing I’d love more. Don’t worry about me — I will endure. I will fight it for as long as necessary. Now. Tell me what you need, dear.”

Contact. Someone to be there for her, with her. Someone who gives a shit. That’s what she needs right now for strength.

“I’m coming over. Do you have a place with furnishing and stuff? A couch?”

“Yes. But really, it’s not-”

“I’m coming over! Invite me. Your house. A treehouse, I bet.”

There was one of Red’s great sighs. “I know an emotional juggernaut when I see one. Just know you’ll have the rumor mill aswirl with us being alone in my private domicile realm. And they’ll know.”

Sammy laughed as she took the invitation sent. “They probably could use some juicy gossip, so whatever.”

“Just remember you asked for it.”

It looked like the inside of a gigantic tree, lit by will-o'-the-wisps and all the furniture composed of living roots growing out of the floor. A spiral staircase of sorts climbed upward. There were prominent balconies showing they were above a tree line, sunlight shining down. Nothing gloomy at all.

She had a partner. It was just… somehow obvious. Someone else had half carved their identity into the place. Subtle non-Red things around with an aura of being left untouched for lifetimes.

The living room sort of area had lots of fluffy cushions as seating and backing, draped upon sturdy frames of living wood. Multiple chairs, a loveseat, a couch. A colorful rug with a fireplace.

Redberry was just sitting up from laying on the couch, her state of dress as one might expect for being in her private space: very not dressed at all. It was the same as when Sammy first met her, a dryad queen with her nakedness barely covered by vines and leaves.

To in some way match the casualness, Sammy opted for a simple blouse, shorts, and sandals, sprinkled with crystalline jewelry, including a representation of her crown, as a smaller tiara.

“Sorry about the mess,” Redberry said with a vague wave. It wasn’t really a mess, it was just what everyone said when things weren’t perfectly tidied up.

All too human.

Being a hopeless hugger, Sammy rushed over so as to not waste another moment not having hugged Redberry. She leaned down and threw her arms around a rather wide-eyed and surprised nature goddess, then Sammy plopped down next to her on the cushions, awash in the scents of many wildflowers.

“I’m not dying tomorrow, you fool girl,” Redberry admonished in exasperation. “You’ll be sick of me by the timing of such a thing, I promise. You’ll be asking me to bloody get on with it.” Despite her words, Red’s arms slowly went around Sammy too, as though from a weakening resistance.

“I will not,” was all Sammy replied. Then they were both quiet for a while. In fact, time stretched in the warmth of the embrace, Red inevitably melting into it with some powerful need she could not push away or deny. Several times she thought she felt Red’s mouth open as if she might say something, but no words came.

Redberry was like a reactor of life, and so she radiated heat like one, which made it all too easy to relax within, as if in a sauna. She was also surprised to hear a powerful heartbeat thrumming loudly and rhythmically.

Because Sammy wasn’t going to be the one to, it was Red who broke finally, though keeping in physical contact.

The nature goddess was much more relaxed than before, almost languid as if she’d been made drowsy. She also seemed a bit sheepish as she glanced at Sammy with clear pools of still waters for eyes. “Weaponizing a hug like that. How dare you.”

Sammy smiled triumphantly at Red’s pouting. “You feel better, now. Don’t you?”

Redberry stared without expression into Sammy’s eyes and studied her face for a long moment. “Yes. I can hardly deny my nature, my origin. Dryads crave human contact of all kinds. Once upon a time, they kidnapped humans.”

Sammy had a brief, nervous chuckle despite herself. “Hehe… right…” Though she knew she was perfectly safe, Red’s aura of power still made one feel a certain way. She could hardly forget the bat and moth analogy. Or the moth to a flame analogy. Sammy cleared her throat. “But you are the Goddess of Freedom now, so did that change?”

“Naturally. I bullied it out of them. I was… inspired by a certain person. I can’t say the same for fae in general, especially these days, but most dryads and nymphs focus more on subtler persuasions. The reputation this eventually engendered proved beneficial and made for better relations and end results.”

“I suddenly feel bad for your companions here, for the lack of contact.”

“Better longing than death. The choice they made, and it's too late now.” With clear reluctance and enforced willpower, Red’s eyes and arms pulled away. “Regardless… this… cannot become a habit.” She stood and walked a short distance to a cushioned chair and took a seat with a grand sigh.

Sammy was suddenly very awkward. “Is it because you-... are you just-... i-is it not possible if we’re not-...” She trailed off, unable to directly say it.

Redberry smirked at her. “What, sexual attraction? That I might fall in love with you? Unable to resist?”

Sammy froze up at her calling it out so bluntly. Her head just shook slightly.

Redberry crossed one bare leg over the other while maintaining a knowing grin. “I think what you see as transparent is actually a mirror, dear. It is you that has difficulty controlling herself, even in your boundless self-deception.”

“I-I don’t know what you-”

“It’s simple, Moth. I’ll be blunt since you’ve already surmised enough. You cannot get close to me. Not in any fashion. Such bonds are potentially catastrophic because of what afflicts me, and I will not end up hurting anyone I love due to it. My aggregate failures have done enough damage.”

The beautiful green goddess took a weary breath. “I do not love you in any way, and I will not love you in any way. I will help you, I will admire your beauty from afar… and damn me but that I hope for your survival, but that is all. So. Tell me how I can help and then you must go.”

Her eyes grew harder. Commanding. “And… you caught me in a moment of weakness a hundred years in the making, but holding me on my couch must never happen again.”

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