War of the Heart

Arcane

The moment the dream turned into a nightmare was probably when Emrys and Lilith's eyes turned emerald. They staggered erratically, hands outstretched towards her.

You left me no choice.

A thousand hands reached for her and the floor disintegrated below her as she fell. She screamed, her arms flailing as if she could swim through air. The hysteria remained, though she never landed. Gadeden kept her suspended mid-air, constantly approaching some non-existant ground that would shatter her bones upon impact.

With a yelp, she woke up. She gasped for air, drenched in sweat and her knuckles white from gripping her covers. A hand stroked her hair and she was reminded that she was safe, as twisted as this safety was. Whenever they could, Detruienn appeared to soothe her after her nightmares. They never asked what they were about, content to just provide comfort however they could. Arcane was glad. Her nightmares about Gadeden were embarrassing and her nightmares about Detruienn could not be shared.

'Things must be boring in the revolution camp,' mumbled Arcane when she'd returned to her senses. 'I don't think many people would choose to spend their free time like this.'

'We're not most people,' they murmured in her ear.

The more time Arcane spent with them, the less they outwardly resembled the boy she'd know. His face had grown rounder, more like that of a woman. Their nose was smaller, their mouth smaller with a larger cupid's bow. The freckles were still there and their hands were perpetually stained with ink. Sometimes she'd run a finger over it, amusing the spirit who offered theories of what Arcane saw there. A scar. Chocolate sauce. A birthmark shaped like a goat.

Initially, Arcane had hated herself for feeling safe with Detruienn. She'd told herself she should know better, but after a nightmare, all she wanted to see was the destruction spirit. In a short time, the guilt had subsided. It was other people's fault if Detruienn treated her with more generosity than anyone else. The hidden divide had disappeared now that their identity was out in the open. When they were together, they could just be themselves. Arcane could cry and bemoan the world, Detruienn could tell stories of her life with the spirits. It seemed Goece and Ellux were the only other decent ones, the others were too caught up in their own grandeur. No wonder Lypera was so messed up.

'I genuinely wonder if one day somebody's going to just ask me why I talk to someone at night.'

'Sleep-talking,' suggested Detruienn.

'Smartass.'

He smiled wearily. 'That's me.'

With his help, she sat up. It was strange how someone without a physical form felt so solid. How they could support her the way they did.

'You should return to your hide-out. Actually rest for once.'

They shook their head. 'This is my rest. My one chance to escape the endless planning.'

Arcane sucked in her lips. 'Will you strike soon...?'

'I'm afraid so.' He shifted away from her, head drooping. 'I understand if you want me to stop coming. I don't plan on hurting your friends yet-ideally I'll never have to-but the time will come when they'll have to pick between standing down as Eseterrians or facing justice for their misguided loyalty. The spirits are tyrants, but weak without worship.'

He'd told her this a thousand times before, but-she wondered whether the impending attack caused it-this time she continued the conversation differently. 'And what do you want? Worship in their place?'

Detruienn smiled darkly. 'I suppose my issue isn't as much worship. People can worship the spirits if they wish, provide they actually know what they're worshipping.' They actually bit their lip, clearly nervous. Arcane couldn't help but be proud of the fact she had that effect. 'Do you want to know what we really are? It... You might not view me the same afterwards.'