Chapter Text
Things were moving upstairs. They could hear and feel things physically, such as running, yelling, and impacts, but the psychic imprint of the moment was much more unsettling. Fear, panic even, permeated the space above them, but it was deeper than that. Previously they had perceived a vague sense of everyday resignation to uneasiness from the servants and guards, and even a slight tension in Rhea’s posture. It was like everyone had been on edge for months or years, maybe more, long before they arrived. It was kindling being added to a pile piece by piece. Sure, it spilled off the edges sometimes, but the systems under it were so stable that it wasn’t hard to just scoop everything together and pile it back on. Then there was a spark.
Was it their arrival? Unlikely. Rhea would have stayed or at the very least come back quickly to… well probably just kill them. The guards didn’t seem focused on that either. No, this wasn’t a surprise to them, and neither Xotchtil nor their little sylph had much to do with that. They were talking between themselves in low whispers. They were psychically resilient enough that they only caught flashes, more sensory information and emotion than higher level thought. Their ears weren’t good enough to–oh. Well obviously.
She could see its unease in its posture but was surprised by the amount that its emotions and even some of its thoughts bled off into her. She wondered if this was a general problem for it lately or if it was just her that could feel them. She remembered how its blurry thoughts bled out freely into the caverns. She felt its attention snap to her.
Can you hear what they’re saying?
“Not–” not through the door, no. The bars in the window maybe if she was a head taller or so. And that didn’t mean she’d understand it.
I should be able to understand them but I need to borrow your ears.
It went to the corner and almost touched the bucket with its hand but recoiled. It kicked it over, then upside down, its contents sloshing onto the corner of the wall. It pushed it to the base of the door with the tread of its worn work boot. She shrugged and hopped on top of it.
It took her a second to get used to knowingly letting it into her mind that deeply. She tried to listen and repeat back to it what she heard but it was gibberish and she couldn’t even tell which syllables were distinct from each other let alone make out any real words. She also suspected it didn’t like being that transparent to her moment-to-moment in return. It seemed to have to stop trying to figure things out before letting her know or she would miss or listen for the wrong things and not be able to listen continuously. Eventually something seemed to pop into place and their awarenesses… fell together somehow.
She felt a sudden jolt of intense fascination. They hadn’t realized she wasn’t just listening with her ears; her awareness of the air meant she was feeling it vibrate too! She hadn’t realized this was unusual. There was another intense but overall positive emotion under that one, but she struggled to place it and this wasn’t the time to dwell anyway.
The two guards were mostly debating whether or not to go upstairs, whether one or both of them should, and what they expected to find or be able to do anything about. One of the most pressing questions seemed to be ‘which house is it’ likely in the sense of who the attackers were. One left and returned to confirm there was definitely an attack happening, but they still weren’t able to identify the aggressors.
If you let us out, we’ll help. suggested Xotchtil. They knew almost immediately that this was out of the question. They tried once more just to see, but one of the guards came down to slam his fist into the door, hard. It actually knocked the sylph back a little, not enough that she fell over, but she had to step down to catch herself. The drow wandered off muttering about creepy telepaths. They probably could’ve forcibly compelled one of them, but not both. If these were another type of creature, one known for an excess of prosocial behavior, they might beg them not to leave them locked down here to starve, but that seemed useless here. And that was actually exactly what they did a few moments later. They left the door locked and… left.
“More great work from the genius who almost choked themselves to death once.”
This is why I don’t let you listen to my thoughts.
“Wish I had that option.”
Also I’m not done yet.
They reached out and sent out a vague but generalized suggestion of safe sanctuary, in the same way they’d felt distress from above. It’s quiet down here they said. No one is fighting. You could hide here until it’s over.
“Except the part where we starve to death.”
I’m not talking to you.
“Yes you are.”
No, I’m announcing it, to everyone. I’m trying to get someone to come back down here. Shut up and let me concentrate. I think I’ve got something.
It was small in stature and low to the ground, which was probably what made a safe hiding spot so appealing to it. It actually struggled with the stairs somewhat, but not by a lot. It had a fair amount of difficulty finding the keys at all, and when it did, they were on a hook out of reach. They kept having to shush the sylph both for their own focus, and to not startle their temporary thrall. With more than a little coaxing they were able to convince it to stand on a crate and reach the keys. From there it was relatively simple to get it to the door and unlock it, which was fortunate because they really were starting to get hungry. The door swung open and–
–damnit.
“What? Oh. Huh.”
It wasn’t a toddler but it was definitely preadolescent. Not a meal by any means. Not even a snack, really. It didn’t even have the decency of being an academic prodigy or anything. From a brief review of its long term memory they were fairly certain it was the child of one of the household servants, so there wasn’t any bargaining value.
Go hide in one of the cells but don’t lock yourself in. Come out when it’s quiet.
They moved for the stairs and the sylph followed, up past what appeared to be storage areas and a kitchen. When they reached the top of the stairs they stepped into utter chaos. Furniture had been overturned into makeshift barricades or smashed apart entirely, the air thick with dust and the metallic scent of blood. A pair of drow lay motionless where they’d fallen, while another crawled weakly toward a wall, leaving a dark smear behind. Across the room Rhea was still standing. One opponent pressed her from the front with quick, disciplined strikes while another circled to her flank, forcing her to yield ground a step at a time despite the pile of bodies she’d already made around her.
She was handling herself well, although it was taking her some effort. Her strikes were still precise, each parry and counter chosen to keep either attacker from gaining a clean opening. Neither had managed to land a decisive blow, yet neither could afford to ignore the other long enough to finish the fight. She wasn’t losing, but she wasn’t going to keep winning forever either.
She saw Xotchtil at the top of the stairs and hesitated for a split second, long enough for the drow flanking her to cut her on the upper arm. She immediately became more aggressive, pressing for openings she would have ignored a moment earlier. Her breathing had picked up and the strain was beginning to show. She wasn’t showing it in her face, but their presence had added an urgency to her movements that wasn’t benefiting her, and now that she wasn’t focusing on keeping them out, they could feel her unease.
Rhea’s two opponents hadn’t acknowledged their presence, but they were aware of them. No one in the fight was able to focus on actively keeping them out of their mind, but most of the information was instinctual senses and movement. Everyone noticed them, but no one except Rhea had time to identify them. This was just as well because Xotchtil was still hungry. They approached the drow closest to them, and by the time he looked back, it was too late.
What Xotchtil lacked in physical strength and size they were able to make up for in surprise and psionics. The few seconds the drow was psychically immobilized were enough to pull it off balance and to the floor and once their tentacles started breaking skin it had nowhere near the mental resiliency it needed to resist. IIt started screaming; they had neither the time nor the patience to construct a fantasy to placate it. They found the fissures of its skull and broke them open between the pressure at the tips of their tentacles and the floor.
Well. The sylph knew it didn’t eat plants, but at least now it wouldn’t be sniffing at her head every time she walked by.
Rhea was able to finish off the other combatant, although it seemed to take her slightly longer due to her unwillingness to put her back to them. She watched Xotchtil bearing down on the drow’s head with a detached interest. She kept her sword at the ready and her hand on the handle of the snake whip at her side, but otherwise stood her ground. She waited for them to finish, and as they pulled their tentacles out from under its scalp and rose from the floor, she put the tip of her sword up to the two of them.
“I’d ask how you got out, but I don’t actually care. I do need to know if you’re going to fight with me or against me.” Her breathing hadn’t slowed yet, but her mind was fully closed to them again.
All I need is sanctuary, for both of us.
“Sanctuary?” Her eyes narrowed, then darted off to the side in thought. “I have questions, but none that change the immediate answer. You have it, let’s go.” She gestured to the next room, but didn’t move ahead of them.
Xotchtil bent down to pick up the sword of the drow they’d fed on. The sylph snorted.
“Put that down before you hurt yourself,” but she could sense a vague sensation of …familiarity? No, muscle memory.
It’ll only last a day or so. I won’t be as good with it as the original owner, but hopefully it’ll be enough.
She shook her head then turned away, distracted again. Xotchtil made the mistake of turning to Rhea.
What now?
“I need to find my brother but he’s probably on the other side of the manor. It’s through–”
As she was pointing the sylph had already taken off running.
What’s over there!? but really the answer should have been obvious.
“There’s a courtyard on the way through to where I’m going but it’s full of attackers! I was planning on going around it.”
When they reached out to beg the elemental to slow down all they got back was a frenzied ecstasy.
You won’t need to.