ProfetessaOscura

Had the queen forgotten which one of them had been the girl, back when they were children, Vespyr and Rain? Although, behind the scars, it was difficult to distinguish anything of the person Vespyr had once been. It wouldn't have surprised Vespyr if the queen had forgotten which one had been spared and which one had been slain.

Vespyr ignored the prodding for a moment. But... what if the Queen could find them through Vespyr? The creature tuned into the voice hesitantly.

Vespyr grew still. “I have not been without Nectar in at least thirteen years,” it explained. “The delayed strain of my abilities will strike the instant I run out of Nectar, regardless of if I am able to ration myself off of the addictive substances within.” It truly was a dire situation. Vespyr doubted even a skilled healer would be able to keep them stable. Even if the body survived the agony, the mind likely would not. What state of life would Vespyr even be able to entertain should it survive? Perhaps... to cut the drugged nectar with common street supply could prolong the addiction... but even fighting that battle had a grim outcome. Vespyr wasn’t opposed to survival. It just wasn’t likely, with the addictive nature of the drugs. It was especially unlikely if Vespyr was going to be expected to be off of Nectar entirely.

Vespyr swayed backward, as if the words were creating a physical gale. In actuality, Vespyr was simply surprised at the level of passion and assumptions that this man was making. “I’m dead when I run out of my supply of Nectar,” Vespyr clarified, “It is spiked with an assortment of highly addictive drugs in a formula unknown to me.” Vespyr spoke casually, as if it wasn’t afraid. It tapped the top of Janice’s head. “Do you want a child? You seem to know about them.” Maybe children couldn’t survive torture? That was strange. Vespyr and the other children had survived tortures far worse than Janice had endured for the time she’d been captive. Maybe that wasn’t normal.

“This is normal,” Vespyr said. “I will not need medical care. In a few days, I will be dead. Sleep would be an annoyance.” Vespyr pointed a gloved finger at Janice. “This one just needs a meal and to walk a little. There is nothing physically damaged with her.”

“We are unharmed,” Vespyr explained, sitting solidly on some cargo. What? Janice had just suffered a little mild torture. It wasn’t like she was bleeding or dying or needed medical care.

“We flew,” Vespyr said, still dazed. What... what exactly had it done? Where did it go now? The kid was alive. So... what now? “Where are we going?” Vespyr took a bottle from their pack and took a drink.

“I...” Vespyr stopped. The Queen... wouldn’t remember this name from over ten years ago. Vespyr needed an alias if the Queen was searching for “Siren.” “My name is Vespyr,” it said, unusually slowly, as if hearing the word for the first time.

Vespyr woke in a rocking boat, the semblance of an island in the far distance of their range of sense. Confusion worried in the creature's face, below its new mask. It had sworn... hadn't it landed on a rock in the ocean? It hadn't been so exhausted that it had confused a boat for a rock, had it? Vespyr sat up shortly. No... it didn't know where it was. The thought was strange to Vespyr, who had always had control of what little control it had.

Vespyr was a stone, snoring softly, taking up too much space, not curled up neatly and politely. Vespyr sprawled, still as a corpse, except for the snoring.

Vespyr sprawled in the bottom of the boat, dead to the world.

Vespyr was curled up quite contentedly, soaked to the bone. They'd often needed to sleep exposed to all sorts of weather. Nectar in conjunction with their veil had warded off most ailments, and discomfort was a luxury afforded to those who knew comfort.

Vespyr snored. The creature was OUT. Janice would have to step up.

Vespyr fell from the sky hours later. Exhausted, stiff, numb. The rain was pelting down. The rain was the only thing keeping Vespyr in the air, currently, absorbing the vibration of the water droplets and using that in conjunction with Nectar to survive the storm. The creature had started with a stockpile of ten bottles; enough to last weeks. Travelling burned through two of those. Travelling in a storm, blind to all environment? They'd wandered. Vespyr drooped at the first sight of a pitiful rock. It could scarcely be called an island. The creature lowered itself onto mossy, damp rock, then sank down, heedless of surroundings, collapsing into a heap of unconscious flesh.

@Negative_Null

Vespyr went cold. There was no escape, true. After this, the flow of the drugged nectar would be no more. After these few, precious bottles, Vespyr would suffer from years of constant influence. Vespyr would die a painful, excruciating death as years of the influence caught up to the creature in one great, terrible rush. To die to the Queen would be a mercy. It wasn't a mercy Vespyr would allow itself, not with Janice on its back, not when it had thrown away its life for one small, moronic, insignificant child. The least it could do would be to die having done one shred of worthiness... no, that wasn't the right word. Good. One shred of good in its life. Vespyr soared. Nothing could match it for speed, nothing could match it for height. Nothing could match it. Vespyr took to the clouds, vanishing in the storm, lightning shrieking around them. One bolt nearly killed both, but it arced around the creature entirely, flashing blindingly in a ring around Vespyr and Janice before shooting down to the ocean below. Vespyr danced with lightning, rain, and darkness, a masterful flight.

Janice shook and shivered on the table. Her sobs were like of a child's; there were no more painful screams to be heard. Great, pulsing sobs. "Please no..." she cried. "Please. Stop it... please stop it... Siren... help..." Siren. Screams became a song for Vespyr. It had always been a way to survive the slaughter, survive the way it could break someone. Drown the screams out with music. Let them hear a lullaby as they made their peace with the eternal sleep. Vespyr had killed children before. There were usually children acting as servants or apprentices to various crewmembers. Janice’s death shouldn’t bother them this much. If... If only the girl wasn’t quite so much like Rain. If only the Queen would just run her through and be done with it. Something quick and sensible, like before. Vespyr could survive that much more easily. Vespyr took a deep breath and stepped outside, gathering the winds in an undulating ring around them. Foolishness. To protest was to invite torture. To act was to die. It had survived Rain’s loss, it would survive Janice’s. Vespyr prepared to leap into the sky, but felt something change within its ring of perception. It heard Janice break. A whimpering, simpering sob of hopelessness. Helplessness. Pain. It could feel the despair that made her breathe more shallowly, frantically. It was... just like Rain. Rain, bloody on the floor, alive and dead at the same time, heaving in despair and betrayal and agony, trying not to die. Futile. Damnation. Vespyr whipped around and sent the wind lashing through the Queen’s chamber. A desk ripped from the bolts holding it to the floor, contents scattering, and slammed into the Queen, pinning her to the wall. It stayed there under the force of a whirlwind. Hopefully, that would be enough to hold her. It was too much to hope that it would knock her out. Vespyr shot into the room and touched each of the locks in turn. The metal began to vibrate wildly. The locks clicked open, and Vespyr scooped the child onto its back. She could die somewhere else, on its own terms. Vespyr just wouldn’t let the stupid little thing die now, not on the monster’s fragment of a conscience.((If you want to save the rock that is Trace, grab it in your next post. Vespyr knows nothing of it.)) Vespyr’s winds spoke, and Vespyr didn’t even think about what they were whispering on repeat, a mantra of the soul. “I am a voice, not a tool.” Vespyr shot out of the room through the balcony doors on a gale of wind, not touching the doors, ground, or railing. Thunder struck in a sea of clouds. It began to rain.

"Is this all worth it for you?" _______________________________ Damn it. They were back there again. A screaming girl, red hair flailing. Vespyr's wardmate. They had both known that the day would come. Every year, a selection of the chosen were culled. She had been... someone that had been terrifying to compete with. They thought of her as a girl, even now, even when back then, no identity had been allowed. She'd been terrible at following that tenant, ripping her clothes and styling herself as femininely as possible. Perhaps that had been why she'd been culled, in the end, despite her skill. "Is this all worth it for you?!" She's called herself Rain. She was the one who had named Vespyr, after their silent prayers through childhood. It had been profane. It had been secret. It had been foolishness. That name was the most precious thing to Vespyr. "Raising us to be slaughtered?! Is this the future you wanted?! We would have been loyal! You could have used us!" Someone threatened her with a gag, but the Queen raised a hand and stopped the action. "Is it?!" Rain continued. She had kicked, shouting defiantly as she'd been dragged to her death. Vespyr had known her for fourteen years. It was the final culling. They'd seen so many children die, so many be deemed inadequate for service. Vespyr had never truly believed that Rain would be one of those. She'd been powerful. She'd been good. Nearly as good as Vespyr had been. "Vespyr!" Rain had shouted to them, "make it stop! You could stop them all! Kill them all! Save me! Save us!" "Vespyr?" The Queen had asked, so many, many years ago. She'd turned to them then, accusation in her eyes. "What is the meaning of this?" Rain looked to Vespyr from the Queen's side, standing stalwartly, not even trembling, despite her lack of nectar, despite death's hand on her throat. Rain had trust in her eyes, those eyes that burned gold like two suns. Rain expected Vespyr to defend her, to explode into light, action, destruction, and salvation. Vespyr was her prayer. "I am a tool," Vespyr had whispered, "Not a voice." Shame billowed within, but Vespyr hid it expertly. To fight would have been death. Betrayal flashed in Rain's eyes, paralleled by the knife that painted a scarlet ribbon over her throat. She pawed at her throat, but was kicked into the pile of the other culled. She spasmed, and Vespyr stood, relaxed and seemingly at ease. The Queen had turned away. There was nothing more to fear. Not from this day. "How... disappointing," she finally said. They came for Vespyr, next. They came for Vespyr's eyes. _______________________________ Vespyr stopped at the door of the balcony, hand centimeters from the handle, fingers trembling. The memories poured forth unbidden, unwanted. But they were there, and Vespyr could not shut them out.

Vespyr heard none of this, happily changing into some clean clothes and upping their dosage of the nectar cocktail. They were down a little bit, refreshing their supplies. It was with a lighter, less exhausted step that Vespyr trotted back up towards the top of the tower, pack slung over one shoulder. It hesitated apprehensively at the door, still cracked open, then pushed its way into the entrance. Vespyr took a knee respectfully to the Queen, then paced toward the balcony.