{
  "$type": "site.standard.document",
  "canonicalUrl": "https://serpentsquiggles.neocities.org//posts/black-nerve/eifre-quest/10",
  "path": "/posts/black-nerve/eifre-quest/10",
  "publishedAt": "2020-09-07T00:00:00.000Z",
  "site": "at://did:plc:ivoe7cntxuy6at7uzmxzs2ft/site.standard.publication/3mfk6cpprzt2t",
  "textContent": "\"I can't say yes,\" you tell her. But you can't deny you feel a secret\nshiver at the prospect of actually learning something, anything --- not\nthat you could ever, ever, tell any living being that, not even a roach.\nIllegally becoming a vesperbane? Tutored by a renegade? Even if no one\nwould ever figure it out...\n\nMaune makes some low cluck of amusement. \"Of course, kid. Saying yes\nright now would be the act of a damn fool, one I know Tlista wouldn't\nraise --- and one I certainly wouldn't teach. I was expecting you to\nsay you'll consider it and sleep on it,\" she says, rising to a stand.\n\"You should know, I have my ways into the village. Seen that small\nlittle valley, hidden behind the copse of thick ferns? I'll wait there,\nevery night for... let's say five nights. Come there when you decide\nyou want me to teach you. And if you're too scared, well, leave a note\nsaying as much. If you're feeling merciful.\"\n\nYou can't help but nod your head. Your antennae are slumped, and it's\nnot just indecision informing your words. It's late, and you won't\nmake monumental decisions about your future while this low on sleep. \"I\ncan't say no right here, right now?\" You can't help but ask. The witch\njust --- assumed you wouldn't. Why?\n\n\"You could, but you know my offer is too good to be dismissed\nimmediately. You're openminded enough, and you know I'm giving you\nmore respect than the stewartry has or will. Than your mother, even.\"\n\nYou don't grant her any confirmation. You lift a tarsus to tap your\nlabium in a thoughtful gesture, and you say, \"I just have one question.\nWhy is the Kindling Dream a nightmare?\"\n\nThe ambrosia witch gives a grand sigh. Not one particularly beleagered,\nbut seeming almost anticipatory, like a deep breath taken in anxious\npreparation. Her antennae curl up into spirals, and she looks down into\nyour eyes.\n\n\"Nothing is a coincidence. Nothing in this world is meaningless or\nmistaken. All the injustices that persist, all the suffering that imbues\nthis land? There's always someone who had the power to put things on\nanother path, but preferred this one. For every death and every\natrocity, there's someone at fault.\" There's an energy to her speaking\nthat wasn't here before.\n\nYou twist your antennae, mandibles working. You aren't sure how this\ntracks or where she's going.\n\nShe continues with, \"But I digress. You know the story of how the first\narthropod alliance fell? The constant tumult and war of the sundered\nstates period?\" You don't have a chance to begin a languid nod before\nthe witch takes your tired sluggishness for a negative. \"You haven't\nheard it before? That --- supposedly --- hundreds of years ago, a\nwingless maiden laid a secret ootheca in the north, and annointed it\nwith the blood of the white dragon? That it hatched the six nymphs of\nthe dream, and they traveled the heartlands for years healing the broken\nand the cursed?\"\n\n\"Well...\" you start. \"We aren't really religious. It's not a story my\nfather ever told, but I've heard people mention the nymphs. They...\nseem important, but no one ever gives a consistent answer. They saved\nus? Or they would have saved us, but they failed? Or they wouldn't have\nfailed if it weren't for the welkinists?\"\n\n\"The exact story doesn't matter, it's all nonsense. I don't even know\nif the nymphs really existed. I don't care. The point is what's\nattributed to them, the Kindling Dream. After some years of ascetic\nwandering and seeing the state of the heartlands, the story goes, the\nnymphs --- several instars old at this point --- began to believe the\nheartlands needed something more, and preached as much. They gathered a\ncabal of prophets and haruspices, and they all claimed they spoke for\nthe vespers. Claimed that by the vespers, all shall align. The Kindling\nDream was supposed to be a final unraveling of the oppressions of the\nSecond Dominion. Equality among all races, liberty unfaltering, and a\npeace that would last.\"\n\nYou nod. It all sounded familiar, even presented in that tone of\nhumorless derision. She spoke with the cynicism you might expect out of\nthe dour ladies at the tavern, hunched over some foul smelling drink.\nMaune clasps her raptorial forelegs, and continues:\n\n\"That's the story they'll tell you. They'll say the Pantheca is a\nmemorial for the nymphs of the dream, bodies were sundered with\nlightning before they reached teneral. They'll say that every day\nthey're --- we're --- striving to bring forth the Kindling Dream.\"\nMaune lets her words settle with a measured pause here. Then she opens\nher raptorials.\n\n\"It's 'pedeshit. This is the Dream. It never went astray, it was\nnever thwarted.\"\n\nYou clench your mandible. \"But who would want this? Who would want all\nthe villages destroyed by renegades, all of the world-scars and\nexclusions --- nobody could prefer that?\" Who possibly could?\n\nAll she deigns to say is, \"When it comes to plans, simply look at who\nbenefits and assume it was the intended result.\"\n\nYou flare your spiracles, but the witch is speaking still.\n\n\"There are answers I could give that would shatter your world. But if\nyou still intend to become a stewartry vesperbane, if you really want to\ngo down that road, it's better if you don't know. I'll leave you with\na piece of advice. When you're climbing your way up the ranks, you'll\nlearn about a thing called pharmakon, and you'll get curious. You'll\nwant to get to the bottom of it. Don't. You might end up like me, heh.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" you say, not really meaning it, \"but another question, what ---\"\n\nShe startles, and jerks up one of her wet red limbs that might be\ntentacles, and points behind you. \"Your mom is coming. We should drop\nall this deep, traitorous talk.\" Her voice gets cautiously lower. \"I\nshouldn't have to tell you it's better if Tlista doesn't know our\nplans, right? Her head's always been clearer than most of her peers,\nbut you can only be so heterodox if you go on to to be promoted as\nfiend.\"\n\nAnd just as she said, your mother returns with forceful, definite\nstrides that crush plants in her wake. She comes to stand in front of\nthe ambrosia witch, regarding her. Her maxilae are working, and her\nabdomen is still, as if holding a breath, like the words to come are a\nbroken toy she needs to fix before she can say them.\n\nMaune watches all of this, and her antennae curl back into tight,\ndefensive spirals. She sees something in your mother's stride as\nconfirmation.\n\nMaune preempts whatever she'd have opened with. \"You always were my\nsecond in being damnably curious.\" Her posture shifts, drawing in on\nherself minutely. \"But it's not the curiosity that's the problem, is\nit? It's what you do after.\" While you have to look up to meet eye with\nher, she has to look up to meet eye with your mother.\n\nTlista looks away, and it seems rhetorical, rather than in weakness. She\nsays, \"They call it the path of erosion for a reason, Maune. You can't\nhave forgotten that lesson. Are you really so attached to the vespers?\nDo you really think they're worth clinging to so tightly, at this\ncost?\"\n\n\"I have oaths sworn and projects I have to see through. I need the\nvespers with me for them. I can't give up like you did.\" She pauses on\nthat, and then, \"You can't have forgotten the lesson on ethics. Any\nmeans for the greatest end, remember? I do what I have to, in the best\nway I can.\"\n\n\"Projects?\" Tlista spits the word. \"How long have you been out here, six\nyears? Eight? It took the flourishing scourge less than three. You act\nlike you'll be the next, and yet---\"\n\nMaune stabs two tentacles in the ground on either side of her. They lift\nher up high enough that she can stare down at your mother's\nstatue-esque visage. She speaks quickly, and she only says, \"Get out.\nNow.\"\n\nBut this isn't just anger or indignation --- you note the faintest\ntremble behind her words, a shake in her legs. And you remember her\nurging you not to look around. Whatever she didn't want you to find ---\nfinding it revealed a crack in her confidence. The acknowledgement has\nher recoil, like one with dark-adjusted eyes exposed to too bright a\nlight.\n\nTlista sighs and turns to you. \"Eifre, we're leaving.\"\n\nYou're startled enough that it's a second before you react. Getting to\nyour feet, you wave at the ambrosia witch as you turn towards your\nmother.\n\n\"Don't wave.\"\n\nMaune isn't looking at either of you as you leave. Her gaze is\nsomewhere distant in the sky. She strokes the sleeping form of her raven\nbeside her.\n\nYou're lagging behind Tlista as she stalks out of the vale, toward the\npool you entered through. It's not a minute like this before she stops\nand picks you up, letting you ride on her back.\n\nWhen you've dived through the water and arrived back in the forest\nproper, you finally feel it's time to ask question on the top of your\nmind. Even as tired as you are, the warring drives of curiosity and\ntrepidation combine to give you more energy in putting off asking\nquestions than you had had while walking. But eventually, you manage:\n\n\"What did you find in Maune's basement?\" After a silent moment, you\nadd, \"C'mon, I asked you to promise to tell me.\"\n\n\"And I refused. Please, don't worry about it, dear.\"\n\nThe path turns into tight incline here, and your mother holds you tight\nas she climbs up.\n\nYou say, \"It's clear that it wasn't nothing or you wouldn't be\nacting like this. I feel like I should know! I was in her cabin, I\nwas alone with her. What was it? Was it bad?\"\n\n\"I'll... I'll tell you when you're older, Eifre.\"\n\n\"...Fine. I'll remember that!\"\n\n\"I know you will,\" she replies with something almost like a laugh in her\ntone.\n\n\"Fine,\" you repeat. \"If you won't tell me your secrets,\" ---\nthen you don't have to tell her yours --- \"then you have to answer my\nother questions! It's only fair.\"\n\nHere, the reaching branches of trees encroach on the path. At first,\nTlista pushes them out of the way, only for them to snap back,\nscratching her or you. Eventually, she pulls out out a small knife that\ndoes not shine in the torchlight, and cuts down the offending branches\nas th",
  "title": ""
}