185 Let Thy Love Turn A Cruel Man Into A Sain

Nothing had changed in the last four months since they had arrived. They were at an impasse. 

The royal lifeweavers had tried everything at their disposal, but nothing had worked. Some of them blamed the limitations they were beholden to, while others blamed only themselves for not anticipating the possibility and preparing for it. 

An unstable spheroid of darkness hovered in a dark place beneath the island of Citlai. 

It was a flesh without form. If anything, it'd be safer to say that flux was its form. A hundred sleeping eyes not yet opened. Dreaming of nothing. It was the herald of a terrifying future. 

It was Reed.

Over the course of the last four months, the number of seals the royal lifeweavers had placed upon him had increased tenfold. What'd once been a sterile room had turned into a fully-fledged conceptual prison — a construct similar to the one that'd been used to contain the Infested Pupa in Xibalba. 

A mile beneath Citlai's Heart, a dreaming cocoon slept in limbo for his own safety and... everyone else's peace of mind. 

"He's not responded to any of our probes since the thirty-sixth attempt, my lady. Psycho-wave analysis has determined he is still in a state of deep sleep. No major developments have been detected thus far," reported the chief of staff, Dafte Pati. 

The eminent Mother of the Moon made no sign of her displeasure or concern, but as someone who had known her for far too many lifetimes, Dafte understood her subtle mannerisms. A mother's anxiety was easy enough to recognize without his personal insight, though.

"I promise on the honor of my name, Shaali. I will see this problem through to its end and give you your son back." 

"Of that, I have no doubt, cousin. There is no one better qualified than you for this task. I know you will not fail me," said Shaali quietly as she gazed at her would-be son-turned-monster. "Has she been here as of late?" 

"The girl? Yes, every day without fail since they arrived, though she has not been permitted to pass through the barrier as per your order. Her assistance has greatly accelerated our progress," said Dafte. 

Spacetime around Reed had grown unstable in the wake of his... metamorphosis. A cocoon of unfettered surreality guarded the infant gestating from any enemies that might try to take advantage of him. It was a corrosive type of defense that harmed all who dared trespass into its domain. 

Step inside and you would be unmade down to the simplest elements possible in a matter of seconds. For beings based on Structure, this was a hazardous environment, but for a creature that was not dependent on it...

Purge the rot and then fill in the gaps with Inserted Cognition Therapy (I.C.T) — that was they wished to do. 

If D.I.I.P was an eraser to remove mistakes, then I.C.T was the pencil that allowed one to redraw something in that newly expunged space. 

Lu'um's role was that of a painter, filling in the gaps of memory that had been removed.

The royal lifeweavers deleted corrupted sectors in his mind and then Lu'um would recreate what had been destroyed from her own memory. There was no better, or rather, other candidate than her for this task.

For wherever Reed was, she had been beside him. This was not a coincidence; it was protocol for this very possibility. A cruel thing, but one meant with the best intentions...

As close as humanely possible, down to the smallest detail — every stray breeze, wrinkle on his shirt, the sound of their cafe's grandfather clock. There could be no mistakes in this task, for even the slightest deviation could lead Reed to suspect that something had been done to him.

Though it was not his place to say it, Dafte couldn't help but feel pity for the girl and said, "...You shouldn't be so hard on her, Shaali. What happened was not—" 

All it took was a simple look from her to silence Dafte mid-sentence. He was no fool. The instant he saw the tepid expression on the woman's face, he felt his blood freeze. 

Here was a woman who had the smile of a saintess... and the eyes of a demon. Her amber eyes shimmered with a cold flame of fury, not unlike the fires of Hell. 

Shaali would not easily forgive her daughter for this failure. Not by a long shot. She had disappointed her beyond description this time around. Made her look like a fool in front of the entire family.

For when the child failed, it was not their fault. The blame fell on the parents...

Far above, a meeting amongst sisters had commenced in the security of a certain room. One embellished with an inordinate amount of books, artifacts, and other shelved mysteries. 

On any other occasion, it would have been a simple gathering between family. Unfortunately, that would not the case this time, thought Lu'um. Today's meeting was more akin to an interrogation session or war council than a social gathering. 

One of them, the High Priestess, and the other one, the Daughter of the Sea, she who would inherit her mother's position as firstborn. But it was unquestionably obvious that they had not come to her wearing these costumes. 

Though the youngest of the three, Itotia was no fool. After she had been barred from Reed's prison a month ago, she found herself in bitter conflict against her aunt.

She thought it absolutely unacceptable that she, of all people, had been denied passage. The audacity of a mere surrogate telling her that she could not see her own blood was infuriating. 

"That woman has grown too comfortable in her appointed seat," said Itotia. "Not only has she barred me from entering, but she also will not even permit you to directly establish contact." 

Lu'um's older sister, Yalya, chuckled and whispered, "You've not the spine to utter such thing before her, dear cousin. A mouse cannot challenge a hawk in an open field. We are unfit to challenge her." 

Itotia snorted in disdain and said, "You were raised into the mindset of mice, cousin. Our family does not produce mice. She is but an old hag from a bygone era. The day you realize this she will have lost her grip on you." 

That very fear is why you were not chosen, my dear cousin. A coward is unfit to stand beside my brother. But you already know that... don't you? Poor Yalya, firstborn and yet not the one who inherited the role of Daughter of the Moon. Pitiful Yalya, forever jealous of her younger sister...

This was not to say that Itotia completely approved of Lu'um. In an ideal world, she would have had no one other than herself beside her older brother. It wasn't anything personal; she just thought herself superior both of them.

Even so, the rites of succession were absolute. The dye had been cast. No one could defy what had been written in stone. 

The feeling of unease was beginning to grow. She could not change the script. 

Lu'um had heard enough and said, "We cannot afford any infighting, both of you know this. Let her do as she pleases — nothing good will come of challenging her. Mind you, she still controls a third of our fleets as commander of the Old Guard. Patience, sisters, will be our saving grace." 

She was not going to let her mother have her way forever. Her frustration with her mother had already reached a boiling point long, long ago. There would be no reconciliation between them.

They were of different mindsets and were incompatible with one another. Lu'um was no mouse; she was an eagle ready to strike. And she had sharpened her talons for long enough...

"I will not have a failure dictate to me how to handle affairs she was never chosen for," snarled Lu'um. "I am not, nor will I ever be, a proxy for her deluded fantasies. She'll get what's coming to her... in due time." 

A declaration dripping with poison.

The words that came out of her mouth could not be changed. Railroaded on a set path. Her heart began to beat faster upon the realization of that cold fact. 

Each of them ambitious, cunning, and hopelessly cold-hearted in their own ways. 

The mouse,the eagle, and the owl would one day give the old hawk what she deserved. This pact between the three of them was their source of friendship. A miserable thing — to see familial ties strengthed through resentment of one's own blood. 

"You still have not told us what the old crone told you. What wisdom does she have to offer on this problem of ours? Does she know a method to reserve the process?" whispered Itotia via mental thought. 

The question frightened Lu'um. It was about to happen and there was nothing she could do.

What she had asked about was not something even she dared speak out loud. Mentioning the old crone even in passing was a taboo in Citlai, even for someone such as herself. Her name had been expunged from everything that possessed a record, be it man or machine not part of the royal family. 

She felt that the gears had turned as predicted.

The heretical crone still eked out a living in the Shadowlands by herself. She was someone who had dipped her hands in the black for the sake of the greater good, fully aware that it'd cost her everything. 

The foreknowledge passed onto her only reinforced the all too oppressive sensation of a force greater than all of them. 

She was the only other person whom the Ancient Mulians had successfully obtained Outer Sight, if only for a brief period of time. Her insight into Reed's affliction was crucial to his recovery, thus Lu'um had set out into the Shadowlands for her guidance. 

But...

There is nothing you can do, little girl. It is already too late. Too late. When the words leave your mouth, he will awaken and bring with him a deviation in His plan.

Such is the price He will pay for meddling with a thing outside his domain of control.

Though blind and deaf to everything around her, the old crone had gained insight into workings not accessible to beings from a limited perspective. 

"What will he become? Will he still be himself? Please! How do we save him?!" 

The crone laughed at the terror in Lu'um's voice and said...

I don't know.

"I don't know." 

And then, as foretold by a deafblind specter of a forgotten person in the middle of a dead planet.

He awoke.