CHAPTER FIVE
VAYEN
Iknew what was happening before I opened my eyes.
The faceless woman had been visiting my dreams more often than usual, whispering cryptic messages into my ear as if I were nothing more than a vessel for her mad ramblings.
I had no choice but to listen, bound by a spell of stillness that prohibited the slightest movement.
I could not see her. I could not smell her.
I could not comprehend anything beyond her voice.
The fog that enveloped us was thick as porridge; if I were breathing, I might have choked on it.
“Vayen…” My own name assaulted me from all sides, pooling inside of my mind. A whisper from the left, a scream from below, the peppering of her haunting cadence continuous as she tried to reach me. Perhaps she wasn’t sure I could hear her? “Vayen… she needs you…”
The onslaught was relentless, but each time I attempted to make out her form, the gloom rushed at me instead, sending a fresh silver shroud into my eyes.
“…as you need her…”
Without warning, the fog peeled back. Thick ironbark branches, naked of leaves, yawned into view.
They silhouetted my vision, framing a massive teal structure falling from the sky.
As it neared, slowing its descent, I could make out its outline against the backdrop of bright orange clouds: an ornately carved birdcage with delicate scrollwork designs, and a decorative creature—raised up on its hind legs, backdropped by sprawling wings—facing an arched gate, bolted shut.
But it wasn’t until the cage hovered just above the ground that its captive blinked into existence.
Naeno, the smaller moon. Distinguishable only by her faintly purple hue and the silver vortex swirling on her surface.
Her name poised on the tip of my tongue.
How could I help a moon? A moon that had turned her back on my people, no less.
Milo would have swatted me for the thought, but I had little control of the rage climbing through my awareness.
Even in her silence, we revered her. We called to her.
We sacrificed in her name, begging for our true nature to be freed.
Yet we were given nothing in return. Why should she be saved?
A soft cry from deeper within the cage drew my attention.
There was a person crouched behind Naeno, dwarfed by the moon’s mass.
A blanket of white-blonde hair cradled her face, melting into the blush pink of her silk nightgown.
I didn’t have to see her eyes to know what color they would be.
She was a stranger to me, and yet something stirred inside my chest when our gazes finally locked.
As a single tear trailed down her porcelain cheek, escaping from red-rimmed eyes that were so brightly glacial, I fractured.
I fell into those eyes, enveloped by the essence of this woman.
Her sadness and fear were almost as palpable as the truth she guarded in her heart—a thousand variations of the belief ‘I am worthless.’
I felt the growl deep in my throat before I heard it, and recognized the sensation of the faceless woman’s spell of stillness evaporating.
Why would this sad, pale moon-woman need me?
But the thought was short-lived. The rational part of my mind was slipping into a forgotten slumber, suddenly overwhelmed by raw, limitless emotion.
A prickling heat I was terrified of never feeling again simmered beneath my skin, as though it hadn’t been years since this sensation last overcame me.
When my bones began to thrum, the ever-present ache in my chest morphed into a gaping hole, because even though I desperately wanted to lose myself in the transformation, some sliver of my consciousness knew that none of this was real.
“Save her…” the faceless woman and her many voices chorused, “…free yourself.”
And in that moment, I was unmade.
“Vayen!”
I could not see them, but I could feel their restraint—hands on my arms and legs, pinning me to the forest floor.
“Vayen, wake up!” Milo screamed, his small voice echoing in the clearing. “It’s a nightmare, Vayen!”
“Is… she phasin’—?”
“—don’t be daft, Berig!”
“Not bein’ daft,” he grumbled.
“Of course—she’s not—” Winnie barely ground the words out.
I wondered why their voices were so strained, and why they held me so tightly, until I realized my limbs were thrashing.
Teeth bared, wide eyes, huffs of air escaping my mouth as I tried to catch my breath.
Slowly, the white-hot light from my vision faded away, and I was left staring up at the shadowed faces of my companions.
As my body relaxed, so too did their grip.
Milo’s mop of black hair popped into view, concern indenting his youthful features.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” he asked, chest heaving.
I slowly sat up, tonguing my teeth curiously. They were blunt as ever. I hated the disappointment that burrowed into my chest as I realized it hadn’t been real. But maybe it could be.
Save her… free yourself…
“I must go,” I said, ignoring Milo’s inquiry and pushing forward onto the balls of my feet.
“Where we headin’?” Berig asked, already stuffing his bedroll into a sack that looked more like a coin purse in his massive hands.
“Not we.” I avoided their gazes as I gathered my belongings from around our makeshift camp. “I must go. Alone.”
Winnie’s dark eyes narrowed, her fox-colored hair peeking from beneath her sleep cap in a state of dishevelment. Cloud cover obstructed the moonlight, but the fire’s dying glow illuminated her irritation all the same. “Where are you going, then?”
I paused, bracing myself for the inevitable uproar.
“Lunamor.” Before the final syllable left my mouth, I was under siege.
“You can’t be serious…”
“…it’s too dangerous!”
“You really think we’re gon’ let you—”
“Quiet,” I commanded, standing before them with an exasperated sigh. “Yes, it’s dangerous. Depths, it’s more than dangerous. The odds that I’ll make it back in one piece are…”
Milo’s quivering lip pummeled my heart, and my arms opened unthinkingly as he threw his body against me. I rested my hand on his head as I dropped to my knees.
“You can’t go alone,” Milo squeaked out. “If something were to happen to you…”
He would be the only remaining Videa, a burden that no child should have to carry. My shoulders slumped in defeat. I stared at the ground, still cradling Milo as I considered his request.
“Berig and Winnie will cross with me,” I said finally. When Milo’s mouth opened in would-be protest, I added, “You and I cannot cross at the same time, Milo. You know that.”
“Fine,” Milo forced out. “But you have to prune the hollow henbane for half a month to make it up to me.”
“On second thought,” I deadpanned, “dying might be preferable.”