Chapter Text
Imogen stared at the destruction they’d caused, at the dead Reilorans and Shrikes, at the absolute mayhem that had ensued, and they’d been on Ruidus for less than a day. She’d nearly decimated the village in an attempt to protect her friends, yet she hadn’t been trying to harm anyone. Not all Reilorans were part of the Ruby Vanguard, and not all were guilty. Most were simply farmers who worked alongside the Bormodos to harvest the red, rocky land and forage what they could to provide for Razora.
But destruction seemed to follow Imogen like a shadow—always at her heels, always appearing a split second after she moved.
Power’s very tempting .
She’d said the same thing to Laudna, but at this moment, she didn’t want a drop of it. After nearly being pulled in by Predathos last night, the power within her both frightened her and drew her in, which frightened her further. It was danger dressed in vermillion perfume.
Imogen ran the tips of her fingers along her lightning scars and hissed when the feather-light touch sent pain down her hand and up her shoulder. She pulled away and then shook out the affected hand, but that only threw pins and needles along the underside of her skin.
She huffed but winced at the throbbing pain in her abdomen. The bolt from a crossbow had managed to catch her in the midst of her fight with a Shrike. She’d shrugged it off at the time since the adrenaline from her power had overwhelmed her other senses, but now, after the dust had cleared, all postponed injuries yelled at her.
She’d barely managed to de-mist in time for Willmaster Edmuda and her lackeys to attack, and Imogen had taken the brunt of the force. She hadn’t wanted to retaliate initially because a part of her felt connected to these people. They were Ruidusborn as she was. Most were cult members, not soldiers, and the way Edmuda had controlled them told her as much.
They’d torn into her nonetheless.
As soon as Imogen had gone down from the first attack—along with possibly cracking a few ribs—Laudna had cast a fireball into the crowd of people outside Elder Barthie’s door.
The ensuing hits she’d taken after that were a blur.
There were several Ruby Vanguard, the young boy whom Laudna accidentally Exulted, the Shrikes, and the unseen ranger who’d shot her. All she remembered was grasping the bolt with both hands, yanking it free, and then sending a Witch Bolt screaming in the ranger’s direction. She had no idea if it hit or not because she’d already turned to fend off another attack. She couldn’t decipher much more because the battle had gone by in a whirlwind.
Near the end, Imogen had managed to overpower Edmuda and cast Command on the Willmaster. Bruises littering her skin, nose bleeding heavily, and head pounding, she’d stared at the humanoid shark-like creature and growled, “ Submit. ”
Controlled by the Command, Edmuda had collapsed to her knees and opened her arms, baring her front to Imogen, and with her compliant for a few seconds, Imogen had gone into Edmuda’s head and rendered her unconscious.
Imogen wiped at her nose, which boasted both fresh and dried blood coating her philtrum. She made a face; her mouth tasted of metal.
A wave of vertigo yanked Imogen from her thoughts and back to the present—back to the red landscape surrounding her. She stood only a few yards from Elder Barthie’s hut but couldn’t bring herself to move. Her bones ached and her skin throbbed along with her pulsing scars.
The voices of her companions’ thoughts filtered in as they neared the hut.
Balls , Chetney exclaimed as he nicked himself with his whittling tool. Why do the things I love most hurt me?
Fearne’s whimsical thoughts reached her next. The faun squatted on her hooves to look at the ground, and a light, Hi, little wormie shoved past Chetney’s following innuendo.
Orym’s arms were folded, and his thoughts generally consisted of relief and planning—already planning what to do with Edmuda. He rarely thought about himself, though Imogen tried not to peer into everyone’s thoughts if she could help it.
She shook her head. For some reason, at the moment, she couldn’t seem to pick her walls up. Imogen blinked a few times and took a breath. She tried again, imagining that wall which would cut off her access to everyone, but instead, Laudna’s thoughts floated in.
No words, just her dark, airy music which made its way to her. Its smooth, minor tone wrapped around Imogen’s mind like black silk. For a beat, that cool touch within her head soothed the persistent throb which became more noticeable.
Imogen inhaled again as nausea began to swirl in her gut.
—okay?
She tilted her head as only part of a thought pierced Laudna’s song.
—kind of pale .
Imogen blinked at the presence she sensed next to her. Ashton was talking about her, she realized as they stopped a foot from her, their face drawn.
“Imogen,” he said, “are you okay?”
She forced her mind back and focused on his words.
Are you okay?
She heard the words, but it took effort to comprehend the meaning behind them. Ignoring a new wave of vertigo and resulting unsteadiness, she mumbled, “I’m fine. Just…strugglin’ to keep my mind shit to myself at the moment.”
Ashton lifted a brow. “Have you had any problem with that so far?”
Bits of Laudna’s song came through but muffled as though underwater. A cresting melody, beautiful and eerie—
Seems fine . Ashton tilted their head, rocky arms crossed. No, something’s…off—not focusing on anything I said. Bits and pieces came in and out of focus . What the fuck—that?
Imogen raised a hand. “No, no I heard you, Ashton.”
He chuckled. “Oh, so you heard that part?”
“I told you,” she said through gritted teeth, “I’m not tryin’ to.”
Several beats passed before Ashton said, a little softer, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine.”
“Nothing’s wrong?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes when her brain seemed to pulse with the movement. After another breath, she gave him an awkward thumbs up. “Peachy keen.”
Feelings of intense doubt and worry met her this time instead of Ashton’s words.
Imogen inhaled through her nose and met their suspicious gaze. Then he glanced behind him—toward Laudna, FCG, and Orym. “I’m sure Laudna would love to know that you were swaying on your feet just now.”
“NO,” Imogen hissed, grabbing for Ashton’s arm before they could walk away. “You dick. Don’t you dare. I’m fine.”
Ashton flashed her that grin they knew made her see red and winked before cupping their hands and calling, “Laudna!”
“Ashton!” Imogen practically leapt on them to try and get a hand over their mouth, but the damage was done.
Laudna straightened and looked in their direction. “Yes?”
Imogen glared daggers at Ashton, but he ignored her. “Imogen—”
Laudna’s eyes widened, and a note of her beautiful melody went sharp. “What’s wrong?”
Imogen clenched her jaw. I’m gonna murder you , she whispered, glancing once more at Ashton.
He shrugged. If you won’t take care of yourself, she will .
She’s gonna worry now. Ashton Greymoore, you—
But Ashton was walking away toward Elder Barthie’s hut.
—fuckin’ dick .
They waved her off, the words Just Don’t on the back of their jacket practically mocking her.
Imogen yelped both in pain and surprise when Fearne appeared at her side. She nearly folded when the faun poked at the hole in her abdomen.
“Fuckin’—balls, Fearne,” she gasped, a hand finding the wound as she bowed her head.
Fearne stared at her hand, the airy aura around her sobering.
She had just caught her breath when Laudna came up to them and placed a cool hand on Imogen’s shoulder. “Something wrong, darling? Are you alright?”
Fearne sniffed the blood—Imogen’s blood—on her hand, and then whispered, “Poison.”
As if the verbalization of the word awakened its effects, Imogen’s legs weakened. She searched for Laudna’s arm and met cool, smooth skin. Dread laced its fingers around her stomach.
A few notes clanked as Laudna’s music stumbled in response. “What?” she breathed.
Worry and rage bubbled to the exterior of Laudna’s immediate thoughts. Shit. Godsdamnit . Poison? I can’t—not poison. Can’t be poison. I can’t fucking neutralize poison .
Laudna’s surface thoughts were a torrent that Imogen couldn’t block. She couldn’t focus enough to keep that wall up.
What do we do? What do we do? What do we—
“What can we do?” Laudna said, her thoughts halting.
Fearne fiddled with her hands, eyes darting between them. “I—I don’t know,” she said softly. “I can cure wounds, but I don’t have the ability to neutralize poison.”
It’s fine. Don’t stress. We’re okay. We’re okay—everything’s gonna be okay .
It was probably the most Imogen had ever heard from Fearne’s mind. Usually, it was a ditzy melody that floated around her head like drunken faeries.
“FCG,” Imogen mumbled.
Her head ached at the flurry of noise which felt too loud, too sharp.
FCG.
FCG.
FCG.
Why had she mentioned him?
She shook her head and reaffirmed her grip on Laudna’s arm. “FCG. See if he…”
Her scars pulsed with heat and another wave of pressure crushed her head. Imogen winced and placed her thumb and middle finger on either temple.
Laudna’s music clanked again before returning to its slow melody, though her voice came out barely restrained. “See if he can neutralize poisons?”
See if he can—
See if he—
See—
Thoughts pushing their way into her mind slowed. Imogen gritted her teeth and forced herself to take a deep breath. Come on, Temult. Focus .
The only thing that made Imogen’s anxiety ease slightly was the fact that the scroll was still up so their minds were protected, which was a relief since her mind was currently a shit show.
“—Imogen.”
She blinked. Her name sounded muffled again.
“—listening, darling?”
The last of Laudna’s words broke through the surface of the water and her voice became clear. Imogen turned her head, hissing as a sharp ringing pierced her mind.
She thought she said something like, “Yes, I heard you,” but Imogen didn’t remember if she verbalized the words or not. Her scars were a blazing fire, and even the touch of the sheer dress on them was like embers grinding into her flesh.
Imogen didn’t realize Laudna reached forward until the warlock’s thin fingers made contact with her hand and pain erupted.
She bit her tongue to keep from hissing but pulled away. “Don’t,” she said, voice low and shoulders curled in on herself.
“Sorry, darling,” Laudna breathed, raising both hands in front of her. Her black-tipped fingers twitched. The melody went flat as her thoughts swam. Shit. Sorry. So sorry, darling. Didn’t mean—
Not your fault. Didn’t know .
Imogen knew Laudna wanted nothing more than to help, but physical contact sent electricity burning through her. Focus, Temult. Get inside. Move .
Sweat beaded along her back despite the cool wind blowing red dust around them.
Fearne moved a strand of lavender hair out of Imogen’s face. “—cold?”
Imogen blinked. It took further effort to pull her distant gaze from the ground. “Hmm?”
“You’re shivering. Are you cold?”
She shook her head, but it was true. Her limbs prickled with chills, and an icy finger ran up her spine.
Laudna’s face appeared close to hers, her cool hands cradling either side of Imogen’s face. “You’re quite warm, darling.”
It’s the poison, it’s the poison, it’s the poison .
Though Imogen just wanted to sink into Laudna’s touch, she made herself focus.
Orym .
After a beat, he replied, Where are you three? We’re waiting on you .
She couldn’t put her thoughts into coherent sentences but tried anyway. Comin’ in now. I—poison. I can’t— She tried to convey with as much feeling as she could what she meant. Poison. Unknown .
Oh boy .
Imogen pulled away from Laudna and stumbled forward. Her skin screamed, and the closer she got to everyone else, the louder and more painful their thoughts became. She almost lost her footing at the threshold of Elder Barthie’s hut but managed to catch herself on the siding.
Orym was there, small hands reaching up at her, and before she could warn him not to, he latched around her left arm which was out for counterbalance.
Fire prickled along her scars again. “Fuck—shit balls,” she hissed through clenched teeth.
“Sorry, Temult,” Orym whispered but didn’t relinquish his touch. She looks bad .
“Thanks,” she muttered.
Beautiful as always, but you’re clearly unwell , he replied. His small stature couldn’t catch Imogen from falling to her knees when a tidal wave of vertigo washed over her, nearly throwing her into blackness.
Her knees slammed into the hard dirt floor, but she managed to catch her upper body with her hands. She just needed a moment. Just need the world to fuckin’ stay still.
“The poison is affecting your powers?”
She lifted a weak hand. “Stop fuckin’ yellin’, Orym. For the gods’ sakes.”
I’m—not .
“What the fuck , Ashton?” When had Laudna come in?
Ashton’s voice floated to her among the others’ thoughts. “She said she was fine—”
“And you believed her?”
“No, not really, but I fucking trust her.”
“But you also know her. She’ll deny anything’s wrong as persistently as the day is long.” As Laudna’s voice rose, so did the volume of her melody. Except now, it clanked and crashed as if a pianist had palmed a dozen different keys.
Imogen clenched her eyes shut as she knelt there, back curved in on herself, and tried to make it stop.
Poison? Chetney thought. Cool, cool, cool. Fuck that .
Shut up, Chet , Imogen growled.
He yelped out loud from across the room.
Imogen burrowed into herself, into her power, and tried once more to pick up her walls. When she reached for them, those adamantium walls misted in her hands and swirled like tendrils of shadow around her lightning-marked fingers.
She couldn’t grasp them. Couldn’t tune out the world.
Even though it was only her six friends plus Elder Barthie and Dono, it was too much. Whatever the poison was doing, it seemed to multiply her symptoms without allowing Imogen to cure the disease.
“Well, what do you propose, Laudna?”
“FCG—”
“I can’t—”
“What do you mean, you can’t ?”
“We haven’t had time to rest—”
“Fearne?”
“I’m sorry, Laudna. We’ve been running ourselves ragged. I’m scooping from an empty well of magic as it is.”
Imogen didn’t have the energy to open her eyes or shut out their voices or lock out their thoughts, so everything inundated her. That tornado of noise raged through her mind, bombarding her senses like one of those nightmarish red storms. She pressed her palms over her ears and tucked her chin to her chest, though she knew the effort was futile.
A cool, gentle hand traced along Imogen’s spine, sending tingles down her scars. Darling? Laudna’s voice was quiet and cool against the raging headache threatening to split her mind open. We’ll figure this out. Until then, perhaps you should put on the circlet.
No. No, she couldn’t.
Knowing was her power. Knowing was her strength.
She couldn’t give that up—couldn’t risk leaving herself in the dark.
Ashton had almost died—
She had to know—had to protect them—
Imogen.
She shook her head and inhaled sharply through her teeth when another wave of damaging, throbbing pain pulsed through her head.
Elder Barthie stepped forward. “The Imperium have created a poison which specifically affects psychic powers. With so many Reilorans and children of the Sleeping One, the Weave Mind saw it advantageous to engineer something which would keep those people in check.”
Laudna’s body shifted against Imogen’s and her voice carried up and away as though she turned to face the group. “This isn’t crowd control; this is torture.”
The Elder’s tone fell flat. “Sometimes, they are one and the same.”
“So that ranger knew Imogen was Ruidusborn?” Chetney asked.
Fearne’s lighter tone was like a blade against glass. Imogen flinched away, curled fingers nearly tearing at her hair. “I mean, up here, it’s visible. Though hers is more prominent, there’s clearly an energy around us. It’s not difficult to detect.”
“Do you know how exactly the poison affects people like Imogen?” Orym asked, “You know, apart from making her fucking miserable?”
Elder Barthie shrugged. “I’ve heard tell from Zesh that the poison can also double as an enhancer if given the appropriate amount. It elevates psychic activity and strengthens a Ruidusborn’s connection with the Sleeping One. However, only in very, very small doses.”
He paused as though the Elder glanced at Imogen, but she merely drew farther into herself, failing over and over again to haul up her walls.
Laudna’s wavering voice spoke up. “And if given too much?”
Too much—
Too much—
Too much hurts—
Too much—
Gods, she’s in so much pain—
I can’t stop it—
Darling, I’m so sorry—
Too much—
My heart can’t take this—
Imogen wanted to sob at the guilt and sorrow Laudna felt, but before she could voice anything, that whirlwind swept up Laudna’s words and carried them away into the maelstrom.
Elder Barthie sighed, and the sadness of his thoughts hit Imogen like Ashton’s hammer. “Too much of anything is no longer a good thing. It pushes one’s mental capacities, one’s growing psychic and telepathic abilities until they can no longer be contained.” He said softly, “It’s madness in a vial.”
For a split second, Imogen faltered, and the barrage of thoughts beat down on her, voices whispering like phantom cries swirling around her head. They pulled in and out of focus, drawing between audibility and nonsense like the storm which haunted her.
Stop, stop, stop—
Imogen.
Swirling echoes gusted through Imogen as her scars pulsed and her hot skin throbbed. She pressed her hands over her ears and a whimpering sob broke from her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t focus. She just needed it to stop .
A slash of red-hot pain lanced through Imogen’s head and she gasped, eyes flashing open.
Darling, please—
Please listen—
Please—
“Darling,” Laudna whispered, “put on the circlet.”
A shuddering breath escaped Imogen. “But what if I can’t sense—what if something happens—” She took a labored breath. “Someone almost died the last time I had it on. Ashton could have—”
“This isn’t about Ashton, darling. This is about you.” Laudna’s voice was a balm against the ravaging chaos. Her calm, sweet tone shoved all the other voices down. “You can’t keep your walls up and that’s—”
Imogen hissed as she inhaled, claw-like fingers clutching at her head.
“—hurting you.”
Hot tears pricked at Imogen, but she merely clenched her teeth harder even as her vision swam. She shook her head. “No. No, no, no, no, no. I can’t—”
Cool hands cupped her face and Imogen sank into the touch. Gods, she just wanted everything to stop .
The world titled, and Imogen almost careened head-first into the floor, but Laudna caught her. She cradled Imogen’s head against her chest, carding spindly fingers through sweat-damp lavender hair.
The tide threatened to pull her under, but with every last bit of strength, Imogen fought through the next wave of chaos and pain. Pulling to the surface, she gasped for air as her lungs caught and Laudna’s scent filled her nose.
It pains me to see you like this, darling. Please. Put on the circlet.
Black edged Imogen’s wavering vision.
Please put on the circlet.
Please put on...
Please put...
Please...
...
Laudna couldn’t believe just how quickly the poison had sapped the life out of Imogen. Her usually tanned skin had turned sickly, her scars dulled, and a sheen of sweat covered her body. Even her beautiful amethyst eyes, typically glowing with life and power, were sunken and muted.
Please put on the circlet , she whispered, fingers cradling Imogen’s feverish face.
Imogen was hurting herself and Laudna just wanted to make her put the circlet on, but that wouldn’t be fair. She knew better than most how not having agency felt, and she would never take that choice away from Imogen.
No one gets to control you anymore.
Imogen’s eyes fluttered shut and her chin lowered to her chest.
“Darling,” Laudna gasped, the word taut with worry. She stroked Imogen’s cheek and the latter jerked up, purple eyes clouded and dazed.
Imogen’s mouth moved like she tried to speak, but the words that came out were a mumbled amalgamation of gibberish. Even the telepathic bond between them didn’t seem to quite be connecting because all Laudna picked up was the sound of screaming wind and an ever-present static.
Elder Barthie approached, giant hands cradling a small cup of steaming liquid. “Drink this, dear.”
Laudna kissed Imogen’s damp forehead and rubbed a hand up and down her arm, urging her awake.
For a moment, Imogen merely stared ahead, eyes focused on nothing.
Imogen, darling? Laudna breathed, Can you hear me? Another kiss against her lavender hair. Darling?
Then, Imogen blinked, lashes grazing softly against Laudna’s sternum. A low, faint groan sounded in the back of Imogen’s throat, and that chaos between their minds—the storm ravaging Imogen’s—faltered for just a moment as if she fought through it.
Two weak words broke through and trickled down the bond. I’m—fightin’.
I know you are, dear. I know you are. I’m sorry I can’t help. Laudna pointed at Elder Barthie now that Imogen seemed to be somewhat coherent. Elder Barthie might have something to help .
Imogen, complexion wane, eyes sunken and barely open, reached trembling hands forward. Her voice was gravel as she breathed, “What is it?”
He smiled, though it was sad. “It will hopefully help delay the poison’s effects until your little friend can regain their spells.”
Imogen blinked slowly. After a moment, she nodded even slower and lifted the mug to her lips.
Laudna continued to rub her back as she gazed around the group. She did her best to limit her panicked thoughts—tried not to let them through, allow them to hurt Imogen.
Your thoughts are never painful, Laudna, Imogen whispered as she downed the rest of the drink. They’re...musical.
Laudna wrapped her arm around Imogen and carefully pulled her closer. Though Imogen winced, she did not balk from her touch. She touched two fingers to Imogen’s chin and tugged her face toward her. Please put on the circlet, darling. You’re suffering when there’s no need. We’re all here. Nothing is going to happen.
Imogen’s throat bobbed, but through half-closed eyes, she shook her head.
We went through Nana Morri’s trials for a reason; to learn to trust each other. Ashton wouldn’t do something like that again. Nobody would.
I can’t—
Laudna pressed a kiss to Imogen’s lips which halted any bubbling protests. It was soft, gentle, and slow. There were no sparks of sensuality; it was an intimate reminder of her presence, of her love.
Imogen made a small sound in the back of her throat and her hot, scar-inflamed hand cradled Laudna’s cheek.
She brushed gentle circles over Imogen’s cheeks with her thumbs and then pulled away before Imogen would be left gasping for air in her dilapidated state. If you don’t trust them, then trust me, darling.
Imogen nodded, eyes closed. I do. She nodded again. I do. She placed the cup to the side and leaned her head on Laudna’s shoulder. I trust you with my life.
Laudna retrieved the circlet from Imogen’s bag and presented it between two fingers. Put on the circlet, darling.
Imogen’s lids flickered but remained closed. Alright, she exhaled. Her cheek moved against Laudna’s shoulder in a nod. Alright...Laudna.
Very slowly, very carefully, Laudna encircled Imogen’s body with her long arms and placed the thin band of metal on her brow as if she were crowning her.
All tension in Imogen’s body melted, and a little sigh escaped her cracked lips.
Laudna carded some stray lavender strands out of Imogen’s face. Better, darling?
A moment of silence stretched longer than the immaterial tether between them. Then, she breathed, The poison still fuckin’...sucks, but no more...thoughts.
The gaps between words grew as Imogen’s sentences slowed.
Laudna cradled Imogen’s head with a hand. I know you’re worried, darling, but you needn’t be.
Imogen’s breathing slacked.
Laudna glanced down when Imogen’s weight increased and the human sorceress collapsed into her, scar-flecked hand falling to the wayside.
Panic snapped at her. “Imogen?” Laudna clutched at Imogen, but that bridge between their minds—the one previously filled with a tempest—had been snuffed out. “Imogen!” she cried when she couldn’t keep the upper half of Imogen’s body from sinking into her lap.
Ashton snapped to attention. “What the fuck?” they hissed as their hard gaze fell on Elder Barthie.
Fearne’s brows pinched together. “Imogen?”
Ignoring Ashton, Elder Barthie placed a large hand on Laudna’s knee. “Do not worry, my dear. She is simply sleeping.”
“You drugged her?”
“The poison attacks psychic movement, and her mind was too chaotic. Sleeping will subdue further psychic connections, which will help limit the poison’s spread until your little metal friend can heal her.”
No matter how hard Laudna tried to connect to Imogen’s mind, that tether between them had been severed.
Exhaling a shaky breath, Laudna clutched Imogen’s feverish body to her chest, cradling her carefully as though she were made of that pretty Ruidian glass.
Imogen, head nestled in the crook of Laudna’s elbow and throat bared to the ceiling, did not stir. Sleep evened out the pained and panicked grooves of her face, and for this moment, peace seemed to have found her.
Laudna pressed a gentle kiss to her head and whispered against her hair, “I’m right here, darling. Hold on.”