Chapter Text
Lyfrassir cried. They cried, and cried, and cried, and no one paid attention because they said they weren't crying. But that didn't seem possible. To them they collapsed on the deck, sobbing until their very bones hurt. Wails would echo down the metal halls.
Their mind was never still. Or rather, it was never allowed to be still. Colors would flash just behind their eyes, not visible but Lyfrassir knew they were there. Scenes would move in and out of their train of thought at varying speeds, but never the right pace for them to properly understand it. They were either too fast or too slow.
And then the whispers. Oh, the whispers. They were so incredibly, unbelievably, painfully tempting. Lyfrassir knew that the secrets of the entire universe were being told to them, if only they could understand it. But their mere presence disoriented them, and if they spent much time actively listening, they could lose track of time, space, memories… Things had to be sacrificed to listen.
Of course, there were days where it would stop all at once. The colors, the foreign thoughts, the whispers would silence all at the same time and that was just as bad. It was a special kind of sensory deprivation. Once, it lasted for a whole week. Lyfrassir could barely get out of bed to give the Aurora her routine inspection because of the weight of the silence in their head. It all felt slow as molasses, that as soon as they formed their next point they had forgotten what the first one was.
Then on the ninth day, salvation appeared.
Out of the monochrome haze came a spark of color. They choked on a dry sob of relief as it approached, star bright and beautiful. The weight of silence melted like ice in the summer sun. Its touch was soft, motherly, and Lyfrassir melted into it.
We have not seen you in so long it said.
They didn't know who this was, but they knew it was right so they nodded in agreement.
They told it how close they were to falling apart after having to hold everything together for so long.
Are you tired? It asked lovingly. It loved them. Do you want to rest?
Yes. They responded. Yes, I'm so tired.
You are so close to me, you just need to let go.
I can't. Tears came to their eyes because it hurts so much to be away from it, away from the soft and muted hues and tenderness, but they can't let go.
Oh, don't cry, don't cry… You'll be with me soon enough. Won't that be nice?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. They repeated it until the word lost meaning. There was a deep ache in their chest, a special kind of torture unique to them, to this. Please help me, please make the pain stop.
All at once the comforting touch was ripped away, tearing a short, agonized sound from their throat. Standing in front of them was the archivist. The archivist. The archivist. Their own mind wouldn't even form the syllables of her name, as though they'd forgotten but they knew they hadn't.
They've been standing in the engine room for a long time, she told them. She asked where they got the long metal rod hanging loosely from their fingers. They can't tell her. They didn't know.
This was met by a long pause, then she said that their hair was no longer tied up. She took them by the hand, led them back to her room rather than their own. They both sat down on the bed, and she started working on running her fingers through their hair to detangle it.
They were silent as she parted their hair to one side, wove a few braids and pulled it all back. They knew that this was usually how they styled it themself, but there was something alien about it tonight. She asked them whether they wanted it tied back with purple or blue ribbon, that she had noticed that was their cue to others for which name to use.
They didn't know. They started crying because they were losing themself and they knew it. If she saw any tears, she said nothing. Simply used both ribbons to tie their hair.
It's okay, she told them. She has forgotten important things too. She said she's sorry they have to go through it too.
They slept on the floor of her room that night. She promised tomorrow that they could spend the whole day in the archives with her, if they wanted. They agreed, not entirely sure what they felt. They… wanted to want it. Didn’t that count for something?
Lyfrassir gasped as a splitting agony struck their head. They pressed their back against the wall to keep themself upright, lips moving in a silent prayer to the dead gods of the Yggdrasil system. They weren’t going to give in today. Today was the day they resisted.
“Grant me wisdom, grant me strength, grant me wisdom, grant me strength...” They whispered, squeezing their eyes shut. “Gods, shut the fuck up!”
The whispers have transformed into singing. They’re sure, certain that if they could just hear some other music than this lilting song then it’ll be okay, but their head hurt so much they could barely move. They lived on a ship with a band of musical pirates, it should not be this fucking difficult to find music.
Then a feeling like a shot to the heart or a rush of adrenaline hit them. They blinked rapidly as everything fragmented into a billion different directions, their thoughts suddenly sharp and clear like shards of glass that cut into their very soul. The song made sense now.
Lyfrassir idly hummed along, the tension melting out of their shoulders now that the melody was no longer torture. Their spine is no longer being crushed against the wall now, though what feels like slimy tendrils winds around it and in between their ribs. They felt lightheaded as they pushed away from the wall to the window across the way, filled with endless stars.
They don’t look at the points of lights, though. They looked at the image superimposed to the glass. Lyfrassir reached out and touched the unfamiliar reflection.
They started laughing but they couldn’t control it. Why couldn’t they even control their own body anymore? Why couldn’t they even control their own THOUGHTS-, a grin spreading across their face as they watched veins of rainbow light just like on that man they had caused to go insane, but they hadn’t meant to and now they were racing just under their skin. It was so disgustingly beautiful, a brand marking them as Odin’s, as Yog-Sothoth’s but that doesn’t matter because their consciousness is already being dragged down again and it's just a pretty mark etched into them.
They were laughing so hard now that there’s tears and it’s echoing through the hallways louder than their sobs ever had. Lyfrassir couldn’t even remember why they were here anymore. Everything’s burning, burning, burning, and they don’t know why there’s such a strong part of them saying it’s so great right now. It’s all so funny, like when Jonny shot them.
“Lyfrassir?” They whipped around at the sound of Tim’s voice. He was looking at them like something was wrong, and that was killing them. They wanted him to stop looking at them like they were a monster, THEY DIDN’T WANT TO BE A MONSTER STOP PRETENDING THAT everything was okay, though. Nothing could be wrong when it was all so bright and colorful!
“Tim!” Lyfrassir could barely get the word out even though it was one syllable, one fucking syllable, through all their giggles.
“What are you doing out here?” He sounded cautious.
“Help!” Lyfrassir wanted to scream. “I’m trapped in my own fucking head!”
“Admiring the view! The stars are just so beautiful from this side of the ship.” They take both of his hands in theirs, holding it between them as though they were standing at the sacrificial altar to speak vows to the great old ones. “Don’t you think?”
Energy surged through their fingers. Then, filling them with dread light, a grin mirroring their own grew on Tim's face. This wasn't supposed to happen, he was supposed to help them so why is so much of them saying that this is good. Another friend, another one who could hear the singing.
Lyfrassir could feel Tim’s panic, trapped in the same way they were currently but it’s not like they could do anything about it anyways.
Something suddenly snapped inside of them. Lyfrassir gasped as white hot pain struck their entire body like lightning, like they were hit by a train. Their hands slipped out of Tim’s and he came to his senses all at once. Go, go, go, save yourself.
They gathered all the strength they had that was quickly dwindling to say one thing, one word: “Help."
The entire room exploded in a mess of colors and sound.