1.5
WhoAmEye
Bunker-Dwelling Cryptid
- Location
- Vault Birb
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Jingle Bells, Santa Smells, the Golden Order can suck an egg! ~Marika, Probably
Special thanks to prime beta Lucky38, Canon Overlord @Ganurath, @hellgodsrus for being my loveliest wife and co-author, and @SolarFlare for being our wonderful supportive girlfriend!
Enjoy and gib feedbacc!
Christmas was weird this year for several reasons.
Firstly, I finally knew the reason behind Dad's quiet sneer at golden christmas tree baubles. And behind his - her - mumbles about opiates of the masses on seeing mall Santas. And why she tended to burst into rants about the controlling nature of religion that only Mom had really been able to squash.
She'd always been more accepting, saying things like, "It makes them happy, and there seems to be no malignance behind their beliefs." I hadn't gotten why she'd say that, well, I learned that that was a possibility. I wasn't into Christmas for the religion angle either, I just liked all the pretty colours and decorations and the snow and gift giving and the amazing food.
This year, Dad was louder than ever about the problems with Christmas. Which led into the problems with 'humans in this realm', which was partly just ranting, and partly an excuse to try and find out more about what Emma had done, and whether I'd budged at all on killing her.
Congrats, Emma, the first Christmas present you're getting from me in years and it's me trying to keep Dad from murdering you. I hope you fucking appreciate it.
If I had budged, I'd have wanted to be the one to kill her, anyway. My suggestion of killing her in her dreams might not have been the best of ideas but it made Dad smile a little unpleasantly - a lot unpleasantly, honestly, people's mouths shouldn't stretch so wide - but at least she'd dropped the topic after that.
Then there was the food. Dad was insisting on giving me a taste of her former home which would've been nice but -
Well, it was obvious Dad had never cooked in her homeland, and had only learned to cook here. So despite her somehow tracking down boar cutlets, which I hadn't even known was a thing, and a variety of interesting spices she had spent hours agonising over the exact blend of, the result was something that tasted like hot - in every sense - charcoal, with only a hint of the succulent spiciness I maybe thought it should have.
Invigorating, though. She called it exalted flesh - it had been kinda envigorating, and I'd finally taken Dad up on her offer of trying to teach me some basics of close quarters combat. She'd thoroughly wiped the floor with me - but it had been fun. And I basically knew no matter how hard I tried I couldn't actually hurt her, so I didn't feel guilty about trying my best.
Then she had served some sort of weird cured fish, which had been quite nice - though Dad had complained that the raisins she'd used weren't really the same as rowa fruit, and you needed yelough to bring out the flavour.
I hoped Mom would wake up one day soon. Maybe she could help explain all these terms Dad used offhand, like she'd forgotten I wouldn't know this.
It was a great day. One I could retell to Mom, laying next to her in bed, my favourite doll in hand, trying out different outfits on her. I'd found a thrift shop with doll clothes while searching for something to get Dad and the thought of the little blue woman in a tiny metal band shirt - though it didn't have enough arm holes - was a fun one. A little bit of gel to give her a massive mohawk - though I could have sworn I saw Mom's fingers twitching when I told her about Dad tossing me through the coffee table. She'd apologised immediately, and fixed it, but still -
I'd always had it. The doll. As long as I could remember. I'd thought about bringing it into school once, but - no, it had been too risky. The comfort she provided me would have been nothing compared to the pain of losing her, or whatever else worse that Emma might have done to her.
Eventually I fell asleep next to her, doll held protectively against my chest where I could almost imagine her hugging me back as I drifted off.
I dreamed of a lake on the moon. Under the moon? Waves and waves of pale dark shimmering blue and white. Of Mom telling me how proud she was. A gentle hand in my hair. Little owl… I know you're not really here…
I thought lucid dreaming was when I was aware I was in a dream. What was it called when the dream was aware you were a dreamer? Spiders crawling in around the edges, and blue light…
It didn't really matter, in the end. I blinked my eyes open just a crack as Dad carried me up to my own bed. It was a bit embarrassing but - I could survive. This Christmas had been the best in years.
-.-.-
She rose, slowly, from slumber, rising through the still waters of her mind she'd been forced into since - well. She'd stirred slowly over the years, the shock of her making sending her into rich slumber, denying her purpose, until -
She cracked open her eye, and peered down at herself. Blinked.
"What the fuck did thou make me wear, dear sister?"
Ranni forced her additional arms through the poor seamwork of the sides of the garb and tilted her head to better observe the image adorning her torso. Which let her feel the odd weight of her hair and what had Taylor done to her body while she'd been sleeping?! Why was her hair stuck up like a cuckoo's helmet-plume?! Where was her hat?! Had Taylor - somehow mistaken her for an unoccupied doll? Forgotten the simple passphrase to awaken her if she had need? Mother would have remembered at least.
How long had it been since her greater self had visited? She had deliberately been split off without all the relevant memories in case her and her beloved's new target were to pursue her, but her forking would not have precluded her greater self visiting, surely?
Ranni - small, in this doll's body - grumbled and crawled up her sister's body to sit on her shoulder. She had grown, now, into full Numen flesh such as that their Father held, and was growing in height as well. Her slumbers were peaceful, and completely unilluminating as to why Ranni had been left to rest.
Thinking on it, Taylor looked… much older, and not just from the height and Numen flesh. There was a tenseness in her body, a crinkle in her expression even as she slept. Perhaps Ranni had dreamt too long - but it was difficult, this lone journey. She had - planned for something of similar design for years, but she had grown accustomed to having her consort beside her, to having her Mother - and yes, even her Father as odious as they were - to return to visit.
She would need to talk to Taylor in the morning. Right now she needed to clean this filth from her hair and return to her proper attire. Maybe talk to Father, if they were awake. Discover how long she'd slumbered and what assistance she could offer. Or speak with Mother. That would be far more welcome, and far less likely to result in a wrathful argument.
The descent from the bed was rapid and the carpet soft. She knew that should she be full-sized, a fall of proportional height would surely have shattered her shell - but she was of smaller frame now, and that had advantages. And many, many disadvantages. Such as her garb. She adjusted it, and the strange crest of hair her sister had granted her.
It felt like crossing the entire manor just to get to the doorway. Had the house grown larger in her slumbers? Or was it simply lack of familiarity with this frame? It felt like crossing the entirety of Liurnia to reach the bathroom, to clean herself, and begin the search for Mother. Her magic was still quiescent, her soul still in quavering shock years after its sundering, or else she would have a much easier time of this journey. Even with having to change the calculations to adjust for her reduced height on the fly - she could not recover her sorcery quickly enough in her opinion.
Father wasn't in the room where she found Mother sleeping. But Father was definitely sleeping themselves, weren't they? Why would they be separate -
Climbing up the bedside table was a simple task with her four arms, though it would have been simpler still with the aid of magic. There were plenty of handholds. Even if her new garb - especially that wrapped round her legs - restricted her movement.
Mother heard her shouts of frustration and remained asleep. It must have been a rich slumber indeed to impede her so. Her normal rest, ever since she had returned to herself, was exceptionally light, oft marred with nightmare.
But when Ranni finally reached the top…
"Mother?" Rennala drew slow, even breaths. But she was unresponsive when Ranni attempted to wake her with the gentlest ways she knew how to without magic. And even when she used the less gentle ways, still - "Mother? Please awaken." She was not prone to panic, but she could feel its touch on her, feather light, as she struck Mother's cheek - "Mother!"
Silence. Not even a sharp breath. Not even a twitch.
This - this couldn't be happening. Not again. She hadn't been here to protect her. Hadn't been here to curse the ignorant fool, even if that fool had become her beloved Consort, that dared to strike the Carian Queen of the Full Moon.
She didn't even have the power to check if - if -
Father. The monster had let something happen to her again. Ranni hissed breath between her teeth.
If Father had been the one - then she would require the assistance of her sister to confront them. No, she - didn't think Father had done this, she thought - neglect, lack of care, always Father's greatest sin, failing to see the world in favour of - bullshit. She hissed again, furious, soul straining to be whole enough to channel the sorcery she raged to wield.
Perhaps the skulls on her newly gifted garb were appropriate.
Back to the floor, sliding down the blanket like her Consort oft did ladders. Were she not so angry, it might have even been an enjoyable sensation.
Stomping didn't have much of an effect at this size, which didn't improve her mood. Where had Taylor left her damnable robes? No, firstly - firstly, Ranni would wake Taylor.
Then confronting Father.
-.-.-
Something was poking my cheek. And tugging at my ear. Had Dad dumped a puppy on my bed? But there was a voice demanding I wake up, harsh, but soft, and lilting.
"Sister. Sister."
…calling me sister? "Muh?" I lifted my head and the voice squeaked, the source tumbling down my neck and -
"Sister, cease thy motions and awaken," said my fucking doll except it had a weird blue shadow ghost trailing its face, and one eye was open -
"Am I dreaming?" I cupped the doll in my hand and sat up, rubbing at my eyes. "You… are a doll. Dolls don't normally talk, do they?"
She folded her four arms and sent me a supremely unimpressed frown. "Thou art being exceptionally slow-witted. I will do thee the favour of assuming it is due to thy recent waking. You dream not, dear sister."
It was my turn to frown, but more in confusion. "But - I did? Earlier?" I yawned. "That. Still doesn't really explain why I'm holding a talking doll that's calling me sister? Dad said all my siblings were… slain, I think. Um." I blinked slowly. She didn't have the mohawk I'd given her. "Is this another magic thing?" I remembered some dreams I'd had as a kid, of my doll being so much bigger than I was. I'd assumed that was because I'd been tiny, but - was this like the reverse?
"... Father has much explaining to do." My doll adjusted her seat on my hand with a sour expression, then nodded firmly. "Come, we must confront them and force them to speak the truth of - this, in addition to whatever has become of Mother."
"Oh, do you mean her coma?" I switched hands and climbed out of bed with another yawn. "Dad's been trying to wake her up ever since the accident but none of her incantations seem to work."
"What accident?" She attempted to stand up on my hand, overbalanced, hissed, then settled for perching on my palm, legs dangling off the side. It was adorable, in a concerning way. Maybe if I moved her up to my shoulder? "What happened to Mother?"
"There was a car accident - she was hit by a drunk driver and hasn't woken up since."
For a moment she sat there as I made my slow way out of my bedroom and towards Dad's. She had such a small, delicate face - it was odd seeing it in motion, shifting through expressions, that ghost behind it. I'd grown up with this doll, and seeing it moving was… I'd probably be screaming if I wasn't still groggy from waking up. She used to have such a serene expression, no ghost, just a calm and regal doll. Always strangely cool to the touch - I would have thought she'd be warm if she was alive, but she still had that slight chill as her face fell into a deep scowl.
"No," she said, finally. "No. It must have been Father's neglect, or the machination of some enemy or - "
"It was an accident. Dad's even showed me her incantations to try and help her." I sighed and opened the door to Dad's room. "I want her to wake up too, and Dad - Dad put aside everything in those first couple of weeks, even me, to try and wake her up."
"They neglected you? I am hardly surprised." But the words lacked bite. She'd slumped, arms limp in my hand.
"Yeah, it's been… hard. But then I woke up one day a couple weeks ago with silver in my eyes and, well. I learned the truth - turns out there's a lot of things about my family from when I was tiny that I'd forgotten -" I froze. "... those - dreams I remember of a bigger version of you - those aren't dreams, are they? That actually happened?"
My doll's face wrinkled. "Truly, thou dost not remember? Perhaps it is a quirk of my own nature that my memories of my life are so perfectly preserved."
"Even of when you were like five years old? The earliest things I can remember - that I definitely clearly remember - are tiny snippets. Meeting Emma, going to Aunt Zoe's…"
"Yes. I remember mine own birth. Though - as I said, that is likely due to mine own nature."
"I think that's called uh - photographic, or eidetic memory? At least around here. I'm sorry I forgot about you." And how rude would it be to ask your name?
Dad rolled over in bed, with a light grumble - he was looking like he had for most of my life right now, sleep shirt and all. "Hm? Child?"
"Hey, Dad, uh. My sister has some questions for you?"
"Taylor…" He blinked sleep rapidly from his eyes. "I have already told you but, your sister is - "
"Here. Hello, Daniel."
Dad blinked - and in a moment he was his true form again. She stared, eyes impossibly wide, at the doll who was now standing on my palm, arms folded, ghostly expression sour. "Ranni?"
"Yes, fool, tis I. Stand and explain thy - "
Dad moved so fast when she wanted to. She was out of bed in an instant and seizing the doll from my hand - it took me half a second to realise she was hugging it - her? - as tightly as she could given the differences in size, her body wracked with sobs - "You're alive, you're alive, you're alive - "
"Cease this!" the doll said, somewhat muffled. "I demand thou - stop it - "
I couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped me. She was smol, and she was the night, unhand her, foul ruffian! But it wasn't - Dad looked so happy and sad all at once, clinging to her so tightly, and I remembered what she'd said about thinking her children were all dead save for me -
"Ranni, it's okay, she's just - glad you're not dead like she thought you were." I worried at my lip and - "I'm pretty glad too." After having Emma as a friend-sister, and then losing her - I'd been so lonely that I was relishing this chance at another positive relationship, even if we were vertically challenged in regards to each other.
I had a sister! One that wasn't dead! And - god, this whole night was so odd, but things had been odd lately and it was good. I was getting people back. It was good.
Dad squeezed tighter for a moment - then released Ranni, lifted her up with careful hands. "I had not thought - can you not visit in person, my child?"
"Do not call me that when I wish to be angry with you," Ranni snapped. She hissed out a sigh and did her best to adjust the clothes I'd dressed her in. I was also curious, but I didn't want to alienate my only remaining sister. And - oh, wow, that was an awkward thought. Dressing my older sister. Oops?
"Ranni, is - is all well?"
"No! Mother has been injured, and you have failed to adequately care for her. Again! What was my promise to thee on the day you married once more?"
"Wait - you and Mom got divorced at some point?"
"It's more complicated than that." Dad grimaced, letting me take Ranni again, cupping her in my hands. "And I remember your - I deserve it, but not for this. I've done what I can to care for Rennala after an accident - "
"Do you think me so foolish as to believe your lies again?"
"Uh -" I coughed. "I did tell you she'd been trying to use - healing incantations and everything, yeah? Nothing's… working, and we don't know why." I swallowed. "She even - tried teaching me a few and I tried." Even my Patron had been confused by the lack of success. Nothing… worked.
"An accident would not leave her unable to be healed." Ranni stood on my cupped hands and sneered. "You held her hand and promised you would not abandon her again and yet here I find thee - "
"Do you think I do not know that?!" The room shook. "Do you think - I don't know why she won't wake up, Ranni. I don't know, and I don't know how to get back to her and it kills me. It's killed me for years, years I neglected Taylor to - to wallow in my own sorrow as you would, seemingly, have preferred me to do." Dad ran a hand through her hair, and fixed that black-gold gaze on her. "I am sorry, Ranni, but it was an accident. I looked, I looked so hard for an enemy we could fight, for a solution, but it was an accident."
Ranni wilted in my hand. "But…"
I wanted to hold her higher but also my arms were getting tired - if she was really here forever now, maybe I should look into a baby carrier or something. It was easy to think stupid thoughts like that, because I didn't want to - this was so painful. I knew how they felt, wishing there was someone, something, anything, they could blame and take their frustration out on.
Eventually, Ranni sighed. "So. My apologies, then, Marika the Eternal."
Dad winced. "Don't call me that."
"Tis thy name in this form, is it not?" It was incredibly odd watching a doll arch its eyebrows. "To answer your question of 'is all well', I do not know. I am not Ranni in full, I am - "
"She fragmented herself? When?"
"I forked myself shortly before Taylor's fifth birthday."
"Hey, that was when I got you!"
"Yes." Ranni rolled her eyes. "My greater self purged the memories of what she went to fight."
"And you couldn't tell me you - that some part of my daughter survived until now?" Dad was frowning at her now.
"I was asleep." A small pause. "I mayhap had assumed Mother would inform thee. And, mayhap, I was also… sulking." Dawww, my big little sister was adorable.
"Whatever for?" Dad frowned, reaching out hesitantly. My arms were getting really tired so I just - gently deposited her on the dresser. It was about eye-level and now my hands were by my sides again I was getting pins and needles - or, would be, if I was human. I was likely just imagining it, placebo-ing my way into expected discomfort.
"Because fragmenting one's consciousness deliberately is a painful process and because this miniature form is most distressingly weak."
"Does… magic care about physical strength?" Dad hadn't mentioned anything like that before. "I thought the point of it would be the whole mind over matter thing."
"This form was made deliberately to keep its emissions of magic minimal so it could not be detected. Additionally, with mine soul split, the levers by which one accesses magics are also reduced, and for the moment a little beyond my grasp while my soul adjusts."
"Ooohh." I was definitely going to get Ranni to teach me magic too. Maybe one day I'd be as powerful as Dad and presumably Mom.
Ranni settled carefully, folding her two sets of hands together. "I was left behind to assist Taylor should she ever call upon me for help. Something Mother would have informed her of once she was old enough to understand. Instead of by happenstance waking once my soul had recovered enough to wake on its own."
"It's a Christmas miracle?" I tried with a shrug.
Both of them groaned at me and I held my hands up in surrender.
"Regardless. Had thou truly not informed her of thy nature until recently?"
"We did not want to risk her suffering your fate."
"Suffering my fate - !?" Had she been full size, Ranni's indignance probably wouldn't have been as adorable as it was here and now.
"Or your sister's. Of becoming an Empyrean too young, and it shaping the rest of her life." Dad finished. "Malenia was born an Empyrean due to her being a child of - myself and myself alone, and it destroyed her utterly. You were chosen a mere decade after your birth, and while you did escape your fate, there is no denying that it was a collar round your throat from the moment the Fingers saw you. Miquella was the only one whose nature - well, it harmed him, but not so grievously, save in the covetousness of others. All these risks were unacceptable."
Ranni folded her arms in a huff as she sat on the edge of the dresser. But then she turned to look at me, squinting - "It is too late, is it not?"
"I uh. Guess so? It was a whole thing, realising there was silver in my eyes, Dad telling me something chose me, and then I had stone skin and something in the back of my head." I winced. I hadn't - Dad and Ranni both seemed so worried about my Patron but the worst it had done so far was push me to know things, and the weird vision fire in the kitchen. And in return I'd gotten Dad and apparently now a sister. I knew it wasn't really my Patron's doing, but it was hard not to think of those things as linked - "It's been cool so far."
"Silver. Tis not a colour associated with any Outer God I know of." Ranni drummed her foot against the side of the dreser, surprisingly loudly. "And it choosing to make thee more actively a child of Numen…"
"It likes learning new things." I shrugged a little. "I haven't… started yet, but it likes the idea of using math in some of them." A twinge of excitement from the back of my head - the math in question had been entirely beyond me when Dad had started sketching it out this morning, but my Patron had understood it, been only too willing to understand it. "Like the Fundamentalist group you mentioned, Dad. And it's not - it doesn't really connect to much of the incantation sources, I guess. Except the Golden Order Fundamentalist stuff."
Dad grimaced. "Which is a poor sign, that it favours casting so much about suborning one's will and the will of others."
"I dunno." To me it was more that - it could help cast them? In a way it couldn't with others. But - "Still. Magic is awesome."
"This much is true, sister." Ranni reached out as if to try and pat me on the shoulder, then realised she was tiny and couldn't make it, and scowled.
"Now that you're here, you can teach me too!"
"Be careful." Dad's voice was level. "She is much like Rykard."
"In that she hates the Erdtree?" Ranni's voice and expression had shifted to smugness, her ghostly face even sticking out its tongue.
"In that she will not listen to your warnings until something goes very wrong, and then will insist it was a favourable outcome."
She winced. "Ah… that was one of Rykard's less favourable traits."
"I'm not that bad!"
"True." Dad checked her nails. "You have not fed yourself to a giant serpent yet."
"Or perverted my revolution to become about eating warriors to grow in strength."
"Or done anything like that time with the cart, and Godwyn, and the women from - "
"The incident with the cart was hilarious."
"The incident with the cart was a mess."
"What on earth is wrong with this family." I put a hand to my forehead and muttered in awe at the shenanigans the people I was apparently related to got up to.
"Gods." They both answered.
Ranni shrugged - which was incredibly strange to look at with four arms - then settled back against the alarm clock, elbows somehow managing to avoid the buttons. "The cart is, in mine opinion, still - "
"Do you wish me to bring up your sixteenth birthday?"
Ranni made a face, and grumbled, "Twas thy fault," but was silent.
Oh, I so desperately wanted to ask more. But the second I opened my mouth another yawn came out. And judging by the digits I could see behind Ranni, it was about four in the morning. "Maybe we should go back to bed, since the crisis is…" Mom was still in a coma, so it wasn't over… "Is… y'know. Not really going anywhere. Ranni, do you - is there anything I can uh - do to make you comfortable?" Yeah, my brain was just starting to lag out now.
"Where did you put mine own clothes, instead of these garments?"
"Uh - I think they should be on the dresser in my room, I - I am really sorry about that, I didn't realise you were - um. Well. You."
Ranni grumbled something that sounded like 'more considerate than my consort' but I couldn't be sure. "Very well."
"It is - good to see you again, Ranni. Even if…"
"Thou still are not forgiven in entirety." Ranni scowled.
"Yes, that." Dad sighed, and was Danny-shaped again, slipping back into bed. "Rest well, Taylor."
I had a family again. I had a family again. And - even though Mom was clearly the glue keeping us all together, even if she was unconscious - I'd take what I could get.
It wasn't like I had anything else.
Special thanks to prime beta Lucky38, Canon Overlord @Ganurath, @hellgodsrus for being my loveliest wife and co-author, and @SolarFlare for being our wonderful supportive girlfriend!
Enjoy and gib feedbacc!
1.5
Be Thou Mine Greatest Repentance
-.-.-
Be Thou Mine Greatest Repentance
-.-.-
Christmas was weird this year for several reasons.
Firstly, I finally knew the reason behind Dad's quiet sneer at golden christmas tree baubles. And behind his - her - mumbles about opiates of the masses on seeing mall Santas. And why she tended to burst into rants about the controlling nature of religion that only Mom had really been able to squash.
She'd always been more accepting, saying things like, "It makes them happy, and there seems to be no malignance behind their beliefs." I hadn't gotten why she'd say that, well, I learned that that was a possibility. I wasn't into Christmas for the religion angle either, I just liked all the pretty colours and decorations and the snow and gift giving and the amazing food.
This year, Dad was louder than ever about the problems with Christmas. Which led into the problems with 'humans in this realm', which was partly just ranting, and partly an excuse to try and find out more about what Emma had done, and whether I'd budged at all on killing her.
Congrats, Emma, the first Christmas present you're getting from me in years and it's me trying to keep Dad from murdering you. I hope you fucking appreciate it.
If I had budged, I'd have wanted to be the one to kill her, anyway. My suggestion of killing her in her dreams might not have been the best of ideas but it made Dad smile a little unpleasantly - a lot unpleasantly, honestly, people's mouths shouldn't stretch so wide - but at least she'd dropped the topic after that.
Then there was the food. Dad was insisting on giving me a taste of her former home which would've been nice but -
Well, it was obvious Dad had never cooked in her homeland, and had only learned to cook here. So despite her somehow tracking down boar cutlets, which I hadn't even known was a thing, and a variety of interesting spices she had spent hours agonising over the exact blend of, the result was something that tasted like hot - in every sense - charcoal, with only a hint of the succulent spiciness I maybe thought it should have.
Invigorating, though. She called it exalted flesh - it had been kinda envigorating, and I'd finally taken Dad up on her offer of trying to teach me some basics of close quarters combat. She'd thoroughly wiped the floor with me - but it had been fun. And I basically knew no matter how hard I tried I couldn't actually hurt her, so I didn't feel guilty about trying my best.
Then she had served some sort of weird cured fish, which had been quite nice - though Dad had complained that the raisins she'd used weren't really the same as rowa fruit, and you needed yelough to bring out the flavour.
I hoped Mom would wake up one day soon. Maybe she could help explain all these terms Dad used offhand, like she'd forgotten I wouldn't know this.
It was a great day. One I could retell to Mom, laying next to her in bed, my favourite doll in hand, trying out different outfits on her. I'd found a thrift shop with doll clothes while searching for something to get Dad and the thought of the little blue woman in a tiny metal band shirt - though it didn't have enough arm holes - was a fun one. A little bit of gel to give her a massive mohawk - though I could have sworn I saw Mom's fingers twitching when I told her about Dad tossing me through the coffee table. She'd apologised immediately, and fixed it, but still -
I'd always had it. The doll. As long as I could remember. I'd thought about bringing it into school once, but - no, it had been too risky. The comfort she provided me would have been nothing compared to the pain of losing her, or whatever else worse that Emma might have done to her.
Eventually I fell asleep next to her, doll held protectively against my chest where I could almost imagine her hugging me back as I drifted off.
I dreamed of a lake on the moon. Under the moon? Waves and waves of pale dark shimmering blue and white. Of Mom telling me how proud she was. A gentle hand in my hair. Little owl… I know you're not really here…
I thought lucid dreaming was when I was aware I was in a dream. What was it called when the dream was aware you were a dreamer? Spiders crawling in around the edges, and blue light…
It didn't really matter, in the end. I blinked my eyes open just a crack as Dad carried me up to my own bed. It was a bit embarrassing but - I could survive. This Christmas had been the best in years.
-.-.-
She rose, slowly, from slumber, rising through the still waters of her mind she'd been forced into since - well. She'd stirred slowly over the years, the shock of her making sending her into rich slumber, denying her purpose, until -
She cracked open her eye, and peered down at herself. Blinked.
"What the fuck did thou make me wear, dear sister?"
Ranni forced her additional arms through the poor seamwork of the sides of the garb and tilted her head to better observe the image adorning her torso. Which let her feel the odd weight of her hair and what had Taylor done to her body while she'd been sleeping?! Why was her hair stuck up like a cuckoo's helmet-plume?! Where was her hat?! Had Taylor - somehow mistaken her for an unoccupied doll? Forgotten the simple passphrase to awaken her if she had need? Mother would have remembered at least.
How long had it been since her greater self had visited? She had deliberately been split off without all the relevant memories in case her and her beloved's new target were to pursue her, but her forking would not have precluded her greater self visiting, surely?
Ranni - small, in this doll's body - grumbled and crawled up her sister's body to sit on her shoulder. She had grown, now, into full Numen flesh such as that their Father held, and was growing in height as well. Her slumbers were peaceful, and completely unilluminating as to why Ranni had been left to rest.
Thinking on it, Taylor looked… much older, and not just from the height and Numen flesh. There was a tenseness in her body, a crinkle in her expression even as she slept. Perhaps Ranni had dreamt too long - but it was difficult, this lone journey. She had - planned for something of similar design for years, but she had grown accustomed to having her consort beside her, to having her Mother - and yes, even her Father as odious as they were - to return to visit.
She would need to talk to Taylor in the morning. Right now she needed to clean this filth from her hair and return to her proper attire. Maybe talk to Father, if they were awake. Discover how long she'd slumbered and what assistance she could offer. Or speak with Mother. That would be far more welcome, and far less likely to result in a wrathful argument.
The descent from the bed was rapid and the carpet soft. She knew that should she be full-sized, a fall of proportional height would surely have shattered her shell - but she was of smaller frame now, and that had advantages. And many, many disadvantages. Such as her garb. She adjusted it, and the strange crest of hair her sister had granted her.
It felt like crossing the entire manor just to get to the doorway. Had the house grown larger in her slumbers? Or was it simply lack of familiarity with this frame? It felt like crossing the entirety of Liurnia to reach the bathroom, to clean herself, and begin the search for Mother. Her magic was still quiescent, her soul still in quavering shock years after its sundering, or else she would have a much easier time of this journey. Even with having to change the calculations to adjust for her reduced height on the fly - she could not recover her sorcery quickly enough in her opinion.
Father wasn't in the room where she found Mother sleeping. But Father was definitely sleeping themselves, weren't they? Why would they be separate -
Climbing up the bedside table was a simple task with her four arms, though it would have been simpler still with the aid of magic. There were plenty of handholds. Even if her new garb - especially that wrapped round her legs - restricted her movement.
Mother heard her shouts of frustration and remained asleep. It must have been a rich slumber indeed to impede her so. Her normal rest, ever since she had returned to herself, was exceptionally light, oft marred with nightmare.
But when Ranni finally reached the top…
"Mother?" Rennala drew slow, even breaths. But she was unresponsive when Ranni attempted to wake her with the gentlest ways she knew how to without magic. And even when she used the less gentle ways, still - "Mother? Please awaken." She was not prone to panic, but she could feel its touch on her, feather light, as she struck Mother's cheek - "Mother!"
Silence. Not even a sharp breath. Not even a twitch.
This - this couldn't be happening. Not again. She hadn't been here to protect her. Hadn't been here to curse the ignorant fool, even if that fool had become her beloved Consort, that dared to strike the Carian Queen of the Full Moon.
She didn't even have the power to check if - if -
Father. The monster had let something happen to her again. Ranni hissed breath between her teeth.
If Father had been the one - then she would require the assistance of her sister to confront them. No, she - didn't think Father had done this, she thought - neglect, lack of care, always Father's greatest sin, failing to see the world in favour of - bullshit. She hissed again, furious, soul straining to be whole enough to channel the sorcery she raged to wield.
Perhaps the skulls on her newly gifted garb were appropriate.
Back to the floor, sliding down the blanket like her Consort oft did ladders. Were she not so angry, it might have even been an enjoyable sensation.
Stomping didn't have much of an effect at this size, which didn't improve her mood. Where had Taylor left her damnable robes? No, firstly - firstly, Ranni would wake Taylor.
Then confronting Father.
-.-.-
Something was poking my cheek. And tugging at my ear. Had Dad dumped a puppy on my bed? But there was a voice demanding I wake up, harsh, but soft, and lilting.
"Sister. Sister."
…calling me sister? "Muh?" I lifted my head and the voice squeaked, the source tumbling down my neck and -
"Sister, cease thy motions and awaken," said my fucking doll except it had a weird blue shadow ghost trailing its face, and one eye was open -
"Am I dreaming?" I cupped the doll in my hand and sat up, rubbing at my eyes. "You… are a doll. Dolls don't normally talk, do they?"
She folded her four arms and sent me a supremely unimpressed frown. "Thou art being exceptionally slow-witted. I will do thee the favour of assuming it is due to thy recent waking. You dream not, dear sister."
It was my turn to frown, but more in confusion. "But - I did? Earlier?" I yawned. "That. Still doesn't really explain why I'm holding a talking doll that's calling me sister? Dad said all my siblings were… slain, I think. Um." I blinked slowly. She didn't have the mohawk I'd given her. "Is this another magic thing?" I remembered some dreams I'd had as a kid, of my doll being so much bigger than I was. I'd assumed that was because I'd been tiny, but - was this like the reverse?
"... Father has much explaining to do." My doll adjusted her seat on my hand with a sour expression, then nodded firmly. "Come, we must confront them and force them to speak the truth of - this, in addition to whatever has become of Mother."
"Oh, do you mean her coma?" I switched hands and climbed out of bed with another yawn. "Dad's been trying to wake her up ever since the accident but none of her incantations seem to work."
"What accident?" She attempted to stand up on my hand, overbalanced, hissed, then settled for perching on my palm, legs dangling off the side. It was adorable, in a concerning way. Maybe if I moved her up to my shoulder? "What happened to Mother?"
"There was a car accident - she was hit by a drunk driver and hasn't woken up since."
For a moment she sat there as I made my slow way out of my bedroom and towards Dad's. She had such a small, delicate face - it was odd seeing it in motion, shifting through expressions, that ghost behind it. I'd grown up with this doll, and seeing it moving was… I'd probably be screaming if I wasn't still groggy from waking up. She used to have such a serene expression, no ghost, just a calm and regal doll. Always strangely cool to the touch - I would have thought she'd be warm if she was alive, but she still had that slight chill as her face fell into a deep scowl.
"No," she said, finally. "No. It must have been Father's neglect, or the machination of some enemy or - "
"It was an accident. Dad's even showed me her incantations to try and help her." I sighed and opened the door to Dad's room. "I want her to wake up too, and Dad - Dad put aside everything in those first couple of weeks, even me, to try and wake her up."
"They neglected you? I am hardly surprised." But the words lacked bite. She'd slumped, arms limp in my hand.
"Yeah, it's been… hard. But then I woke up one day a couple weeks ago with silver in my eyes and, well. I learned the truth - turns out there's a lot of things about my family from when I was tiny that I'd forgotten -" I froze. "... those - dreams I remember of a bigger version of you - those aren't dreams, are they? That actually happened?"
My doll's face wrinkled. "Truly, thou dost not remember? Perhaps it is a quirk of my own nature that my memories of my life are so perfectly preserved."
"Even of when you were like five years old? The earliest things I can remember - that I definitely clearly remember - are tiny snippets. Meeting Emma, going to Aunt Zoe's…"
"Yes. I remember mine own birth. Though - as I said, that is likely due to mine own nature."
"I think that's called uh - photographic, or eidetic memory? At least around here. I'm sorry I forgot about you." And how rude would it be to ask your name?
Dad rolled over in bed, with a light grumble - he was looking like he had for most of my life right now, sleep shirt and all. "Hm? Child?"
"Hey, Dad, uh. My sister has some questions for you?"
"Taylor…" He blinked sleep rapidly from his eyes. "I have already told you but, your sister is - "
"Here. Hello, Daniel."
Dad blinked - and in a moment he was his true form again. She stared, eyes impossibly wide, at the doll who was now standing on my palm, arms folded, ghostly expression sour. "Ranni?"
"Yes, fool, tis I. Stand and explain thy - "
Dad moved so fast when she wanted to. She was out of bed in an instant and seizing the doll from my hand - it took me half a second to realise she was hugging it - her? - as tightly as she could given the differences in size, her body wracked with sobs - "You're alive, you're alive, you're alive - "
"Cease this!" the doll said, somewhat muffled. "I demand thou - stop it - "
I couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped me. She was smol, and she was the night, unhand her, foul ruffian! But it wasn't - Dad looked so happy and sad all at once, clinging to her so tightly, and I remembered what she'd said about thinking her children were all dead save for me -
"Ranni, it's okay, she's just - glad you're not dead like she thought you were." I worried at my lip and - "I'm pretty glad too." After having Emma as a friend-sister, and then losing her - I'd been so lonely that I was relishing this chance at another positive relationship, even if we were vertically challenged in regards to each other.
I had a sister! One that wasn't dead! And - god, this whole night was so odd, but things had been odd lately and it was good. I was getting people back. It was good.
Dad squeezed tighter for a moment - then released Ranni, lifted her up with careful hands. "I had not thought - can you not visit in person, my child?"
"Do not call me that when I wish to be angry with you," Ranni snapped. She hissed out a sigh and did her best to adjust the clothes I'd dressed her in. I was also curious, but I didn't want to alienate my only remaining sister. And - oh, wow, that was an awkward thought. Dressing my older sister. Oops?
"Ranni, is - is all well?"
"No! Mother has been injured, and you have failed to adequately care for her. Again! What was my promise to thee on the day you married once more?"
"Wait - you and Mom got divorced at some point?"
"It's more complicated than that." Dad grimaced, letting me take Ranni again, cupping her in my hands. "And I remember your - I deserve it, but not for this. I've done what I can to care for Rennala after an accident - "
"Do you think me so foolish as to believe your lies again?"
"Uh -" I coughed. "I did tell you she'd been trying to use - healing incantations and everything, yeah? Nothing's… working, and we don't know why." I swallowed. "She even - tried teaching me a few and I tried." Even my Patron had been confused by the lack of success. Nothing… worked.
"An accident would not leave her unable to be healed." Ranni stood on my cupped hands and sneered. "You held her hand and promised you would not abandon her again and yet here I find thee - "
"Do you think I do not know that?!" The room shook. "Do you think - I don't know why she won't wake up, Ranni. I don't know, and I don't know how to get back to her and it kills me. It's killed me for years, years I neglected Taylor to - to wallow in my own sorrow as you would, seemingly, have preferred me to do." Dad ran a hand through her hair, and fixed that black-gold gaze on her. "I am sorry, Ranni, but it was an accident. I looked, I looked so hard for an enemy we could fight, for a solution, but it was an accident."
Ranni wilted in my hand. "But…"
I wanted to hold her higher but also my arms were getting tired - if she was really here forever now, maybe I should look into a baby carrier or something. It was easy to think stupid thoughts like that, because I didn't want to - this was so painful. I knew how they felt, wishing there was someone, something, anything, they could blame and take their frustration out on.
Eventually, Ranni sighed. "So. My apologies, then, Marika the Eternal."
Dad winced. "Don't call me that."
"Tis thy name in this form, is it not?" It was incredibly odd watching a doll arch its eyebrows. "To answer your question of 'is all well', I do not know. I am not Ranni in full, I am - "
"She fragmented herself? When?"
"I forked myself shortly before Taylor's fifth birthday."
"Hey, that was when I got you!"
"Yes." Ranni rolled her eyes. "My greater self purged the memories of what she went to fight."
"And you couldn't tell me you - that some part of my daughter survived until now?" Dad was frowning at her now.
"I was asleep." A small pause. "I mayhap had assumed Mother would inform thee. And, mayhap, I was also… sulking." Dawww, my big little sister was adorable.
"Whatever for?" Dad frowned, reaching out hesitantly. My arms were getting really tired so I just - gently deposited her on the dresser. It was about eye-level and now my hands were by my sides again I was getting pins and needles - or, would be, if I was human. I was likely just imagining it, placebo-ing my way into expected discomfort.
"Because fragmenting one's consciousness deliberately is a painful process and because this miniature form is most distressingly weak."
"Does… magic care about physical strength?" Dad hadn't mentioned anything like that before. "I thought the point of it would be the whole mind over matter thing."
"This form was made deliberately to keep its emissions of magic minimal so it could not be detected. Additionally, with mine soul split, the levers by which one accesses magics are also reduced, and for the moment a little beyond my grasp while my soul adjusts."
"Ooohh." I was definitely going to get Ranni to teach me magic too. Maybe one day I'd be as powerful as Dad and presumably Mom.
Ranni settled carefully, folding her two sets of hands together. "I was left behind to assist Taylor should she ever call upon me for help. Something Mother would have informed her of once she was old enough to understand. Instead of by happenstance waking once my soul had recovered enough to wake on its own."
"It's a Christmas miracle?" I tried with a shrug.
Both of them groaned at me and I held my hands up in surrender.
"Regardless. Had thou truly not informed her of thy nature until recently?"
"We did not want to risk her suffering your fate."
"Suffering my fate - !?" Had she been full size, Ranni's indignance probably wouldn't have been as adorable as it was here and now.
"Or your sister's. Of becoming an Empyrean too young, and it shaping the rest of her life." Dad finished. "Malenia was born an Empyrean due to her being a child of - myself and myself alone, and it destroyed her utterly. You were chosen a mere decade after your birth, and while you did escape your fate, there is no denying that it was a collar round your throat from the moment the Fingers saw you. Miquella was the only one whose nature - well, it harmed him, but not so grievously, save in the covetousness of others. All these risks were unacceptable."
Ranni folded her arms in a huff as she sat on the edge of the dresser. But then she turned to look at me, squinting - "It is too late, is it not?"
"I uh. Guess so? It was a whole thing, realising there was silver in my eyes, Dad telling me something chose me, and then I had stone skin and something in the back of my head." I winced. I hadn't - Dad and Ranni both seemed so worried about my Patron but the worst it had done so far was push me to know things, and the weird vision fire in the kitchen. And in return I'd gotten Dad and apparently now a sister. I knew it wasn't really my Patron's doing, but it was hard not to think of those things as linked - "It's been cool so far."
"Silver. Tis not a colour associated with any Outer God I know of." Ranni drummed her foot against the side of the dreser, surprisingly loudly. "And it choosing to make thee more actively a child of Numen…"
"It likes learning new things." I shrugged a little. "I haven't… started yet, but it likes the idea of using math in some of them." A twinge of excitement from the back of my head - the math in question had been entirely beyond me when Dad had started sketching it out this morning, but my Patron had understood it, been only too willing to understand it. "Like the Fundamentalist group you mentioned, Dad. And it's not - it doesn't really connect to much of the incantation sources, I guess. Except the Golden Order Fundamentalist stuff."
Dad grimaced. "Which is a poor sign, that it favours casting so much about suborning one's will and the will of others."
"I dunno." To me it was more that - it could help cast them? In a way it couldn't with others. But - "Still. Magic is awesome."
"This much is true, sister." Ranni reached out as if to try and pat me on the shoulder, then realised she was tiny and couldn't make it, and scowled.
"Now that you're here, you can teach me too!"
"Be careful." Dad's voice was level. "She is much like Rykard."
"In that she hates the Erdtree?" Ranni's voice and expression had shifted to smugness, her ghostly face even sticking out its tongue.
"In that she will not listen to your warnings until something goes very wrong, and then will insist it was a favourable outcome."
She winced. "Ah… that was one of Rykard's less favourable traits."
"I'm not that bad!"
"True." Dad checked her nails. "You have not fed yourself to a giant serpent yet."
"Or perverted my revolution to become about eating warriors to grow in strength."
"Or done anything like that time with the cart, and Godwyn, and the women from - "
"The incident with the cart was hilarious."
"The incident with the cart was a mess."
"What on earth is wrong with this family." I put a hand to my forehead and muttered in awe at the shenanigans the people I was apparently related to got up to.
"Gods." They both answered.
Ranni shrugged - which was incredibly strange to look at with four arms - then settled back against the alarm clock, elbows somehow managing to avoid the buttons. "The cart is, in mine opinion, still - "
"Do you wish me to bring up your sixteenth birthday?"
Ranni made a face, and grumbled, "Twas thy fault," but was silent.
Oh, I so desperately wanted to ask more. But the second I opened my mouth another yawn came out. And judging by the digits I could see behind Ranni, it was about four in the morning. "Maybe we should go back to bed, since the crisis is…" Mom was still in a coma, so it wasn't over… "Is… y'know. Not really going anywhere. Ranni, do you - is there anything I can uh - do to make you comfortable?" Yeah, my brain was just starting to lag out now.
"Where did you put mine own clothes, instead of these garments?"
"Uh - I think they should be on the dresser in my room, I - I am really sorry about that, I didn't realise you were - um. Well. You."
Ranni grumbled something that sounded like 'more considerate than my consort' but I couldn't be sure. "Very well."
"It is - good to see you again, Ranni. Even if…"
"Thou still are not forgiven in entirety." Ranni scowled.
"Yes, that." Dad sighed, and was Danny-shaped again, slipping back into bed. "Rest well, Taylor."
I had a family again. I had a family again. And - even though Mom was clearly the glue keeping us all together, even if she was unconscious - I'd take what I could get.
It wasn't like I had anything else.
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