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1065. Worms Dream and Butterflies Fear
🕑 Added 2025-09-09 08:10:59 +0000 UTCNothing pursued them anymore. The walk to the central spire was a tranquil one. A well-worn animal path followed a scenic route, navigating through the edges of small cliffs that overlooked the island’s shores.
The scenery was a much-needed moment of respite. Joy and the Judge’s Prides watched the light dance on the shimmering waters. They resembled a soft burning ember.
It was serene. The orange glow soon faded, and the temperature dropped to where Joy began shivering. Frost shared her oversized Coat of Prejudice with her, draping across her shoulder as they navigated through the animal path.
Eventually, the birds stopped chirping. Cicadas replaced them. The light of the moon crept over the horizon. It was a moon made of millions of giant ethereal strands, giving it the appearance of a glowing ball of yarn that was placed in the sky.
It thumped. What Frost heard was not her own heartbeat. Raoul and Res' ears flapped with each beat that came from the moon, and they could not help but wonder if it was alive.
“The purpose of an insect…” Orth trailed off as she began a monologue when they reached a staircase at the base of the central spire.
“… Is decided when the egg is laid.” Thras continued.
There were no trees blocking their view of the skies. The moon, the artificial star made of strings, and the faint blue glow of the Fate Mechanism were laid bare for all to witness. If Frost did not know any better, she would have believed the glow of the Fate Mechanism to be nebula.
The pale steps recessed an inch into the floor when weight was applied to it. Frost gave them a testing step before committing to leading the group forward. Her foresight did not reveal anything out of the ordinary.
But just in case, she let the others walk in front of her just in case this was another one of Act X’s traps. The twins became talkative suddenly in the presence of the false moon. Their gaze was affixed to place beyond the spire, and their strings were attached to that moon rather than the conglomeration of strings above.
< You are witnessing the manifestations of two separate Living Looms >
< The star belongs to Act X. All strings belonging to Act X in this very place converge to form this star >
< But I am not aware of who the Living Loom of the false moon belongs to. It contains preexisting threads containing countless instructions. Neither Michaela nor Lailah are familiar with this phenom >
< That is the Living Loom they have become attached to >
“Hence why they’re branded as traitors, huh.” Frost murmured to herself as she stared at the moon. “Orth. Thras. Do you feel anything towards that moon? Anything different?”
The twins shook their heads.
“None.” (Orth).
“Functions are normal.” (Thras).
Status didn’t work either. The moon was too far, as was the star. It pulsed in tune with their collective heartbeats. When they reached halfway through the staircase, blue dots flickered among the surrounding trees.
“Look at that. Blue Glowworms.” Res raised a brow. “Rare to see them outside of caves. Check out the silk.”
The lights blinked before solidifying. Teardrops, Frost thought. Glowing teardrops hung from beneath the short canopies, each dangling from a single thread. Some shivered, and some did not glow. The ones that didn’t glow possessed a large crack along the top, as though something had hatched free.
When Frost took a closer look, she saw caterpillars munching on a pale leaf, and another wrapping itself with its own silk. These were cocoons. Thousands upon thousands hung like giant dew on a thread, but there was no sign of what had hatched from the broken cocoons.
Frost took a small detour to investigate, grabbing a Blue Glowworm, a developing cocoon, and a broken cocoon.
[Appraise Object] was out of the question. However, Nav was able to relay Anna’s words, straight from Sheherazade who knew about these creatures.
Blue Glowworm
< A worm commonly found in subterranean environments. Rarely will they form Silken Colonies. Non-sapient basic ancestor and precursor of the Mothlinen race >
The Glowworm was about as large as a plump sausage. The bug undulated in her palm, and it secreted a bioluminescent slime that coated her hand.
“It dares contaminate your pure vessel–!”
“Shut up Acedia.” Frost snapped.
“If its slime you want–”
“I’m not talking to you either Jury. But since you’re here, can you off it for me?”
“You mean kill?” Jury tilted her head.
“I can’t say that word outright without being suppressed.” Frost was barely able to finish speaking before Jury lobbed its head off.
It didn’t explode as Frost had expected it to. It instead had a gummy-like consistency. Frost took a bite, and her eyes widened with surprise.
“Tastes as good as it looks!”
“In what way?” Res frowned.
“We had a type of candy on Earth called gummy worms. Think of flavored, chewy jelly in the shape of a bug or animal. Grab some more Jury. I wanna snack on them later.” Frost beamed and then gave the half-eaten bug to Joy. “Give it a taste.”
“Gam?” Joy took a bite.
Her face collapsed into itself, and her eyes stung. Tears quickly formed in the corners of her eyes as she swallowed a mouthful of the bug.
“Tasty, huh? How is it?” Frost said with a hopeful tone.
How could Joy possibly tell her it was awful? With that smile?
“G-Gam.” Joy forced a smile.
“Mother punishes her favorites too? How ruthlessly effective.” Acedia folded her arms with approval, right before a bug landed in her arms.
“A palette cleanser. My treat.” Frost was genuinely unaware of how foul the Glowworms tasted. She believed they were delicious and had given one to Acedia as a reward.
Acedia froze entirely after she took a reluctant bite. Frost didn’t know if she swallowed it, since she didn’t move an inch for the next several minutes as though her soul had left her body.
“Now for the cocoons.”
Mothlinen Cocoon
< A cocoon containing a Glowworm in metamorphosis >
Hatched Mothlinen Cocoon
< A basic vessel capable of weaving and consuming Strings. Scissors of Act X coated with a thin layer of Mothlinen Birthling Dust. Invisible to the naked eye >
< Note: The Missionary Moth you encountered earlier was likely a Mothlinen. They still fall under the Insectid blanket race >
The cocoons themselves didn’t possess any special property, aside from their ethereal strings which matched the ones belonging to the moon and the twins. Frost could only speculate as to what it meant. Then again, Act X’s motif has always revolved around that blue glow.
She had always associated it with the Fate Mechanism. Never with these.
To be fair, this was also her first time hearing about the Mothlinen.
“Raoul. What are the Mothlinen?”
Raoul lowered her head slightly. She spoke, having anticipated Frost’s question.
“An old race that used to live in the Anid Region before the Anids took over. Not much to say about them other than I’ve never seen a Mothlinen in Act X. I suspect they’re in the upper hierarchy of Act X if they’re still around. I do remember them being mentioned in a footnote when Act X was starting to make a name for themselves.”
“Thirty years ago?” Frost asked for this specific number because Act X had existed for roughly the same number of years.
“I don’t remember the year. But it was around that period. The Anids are just as attuned to the Advent of Purpose. Well, it depends on the Nest and its Living Loom. Point is, Act X’s wake saw major Anid Nests and Living Looms in Emvita disappear. Killing a Living Loom isn’t simple. Nothing can cut down their strings. HP drops to nil, and they’ll come back. But Act X obviously found a method.”
“Are you aware that the Mothlinen are that method? Their dust lets them cut through the Strings.”
“That’s news to me. Moths eat cloth. Tear strings apart. Makes sense. But you don’t expect these critters to be capable of that. Not as they are anyway.” It surprised Raoul. She didn’t know about the existence of the Mothlinen in Act X, let alone their capabilities.
No one questioned why, because they seemed to all know the answer.
Lethe must have erased them. How many races have been erased by Lethe’s power?
“Impossible to tell.” Nav’s cold attitude contrasted with the somber atmosphere. Nav was far from concerned about what was forgotten.
In her mind, it was for the best.
And perhaps it was. There was so little information about the Mothlinen that they may as well not exist.
But Anna’s Bookkeepers knew. In the distant past, during the peak of Atlas, they were known to inhabit the Eternal Library as pest.
They climbed the remaining stairs in mournful silence, punctuated by the soft steps of their shoes. Along the way the twins gazed up at the broken cocoon still clasped in Frost’s hands, and they recited what sounded like a holy verse.
“When the egg is laid, and the clutch hatches–” (Orth).
“The brood enters the world, in predetermined batches.” (Thras).
“People dream of a better them, of a Healer hailing where few come–” (Orth).
“Healers fear and tug on hems, of the person they have become.” (Thras).
The two flanked Frost and each took a hand. One held onto her with a warm hand. The other held onto with a cold prosthetic. Color returned to their eyes whenever they looked at the moon. A faint blue ocean roared in their hollow irises when they then turned to Raoul.
It faded to nothing when they gazed at the Looking Glass.
“Amalgam.” (Orth).
“Amalgam.” (Thras).
“Did you dream of becoming the Amalgam when you were human?” (Orth).
“Do you fear because you are the Amalgam right now?” (Thras).
“Marionette told us that no worm ever looks forward to becoming a butterfly.” (Orth).
“They do it because it is their purpose.” (Thras).
Frost was not ready to answer. Their question had come from nowhere. She stumbled on it. She never dreamed or ever anticipated becoming the Amalgam. Fear on the other hand…
I am afraid of myself. I know that much. Not like I had a choice. Then again, do worms even have a choice when they transform?
The question introduced additional uneasy introspective questions. Each one branched into another five until her mind became a maze of unsolvable questions. In the end, she could only come up with the simplest, most honest answer she could muster.
“It’s scary, being something you never expected to become because you often don’t have a choice. But I can’t say I regret it either. If I truly hated what I am, then I’d do everything in my power to change. Or at least make it bearable. Did you two want to become Healers?”
“Hard to say.” Orth wore a rare expression of confusion.
“Neither of us expected it. Or when we became Wandering Healers. It was a dream. But becoming a Healer brought a lot of pain we never expected to experience.” Thras spoke mournfully.
“Misery follows change.” Raoul agreed with their sentiment; how becoming what one aspired to become can become the source of one’s misery. “Change, the metamorphosis… it’s prolonging the inevitable. You’ll find me plunging a blade into my chest before you find me considering it.”
“Raoul? You would rather destroy yourself than to change?” Orth tilted her head.
“To fight against changing your nature?” Thras followed suit.
“If I was a contradiction, and if I had not been left to live as a Repenter, then yes. It’d be less agonizing than what I’ve already lost. Suppress it, because it’s less painful.” Raoul dragged a long breath.
She didn’t speak with her old indifference, and her eyes were not glued to the ground anymore.
Rather, they were held high and placed far away, joining wherever the twins stared off to.
“Corruption isn’t different?” Frost hummed and led them to the top of the staircase.
“… Corruption preserves.” Raoul did not sound entirely convinced.
“Not always. One of my loved ones had a father that burned himself out. A candle can only live for so long when it is set alight.”
The intense memories of Frost’s first Corrupted Persona encounter caused a veil of light to form around her. Her steps became airy once she finally set foot at the top. Then, a small spark of light appeared overhead, resembling a piece of a halo.
“Be careful with what you wish for.”
That halo was infinitely times more radiant than Jury’s.
*
Atop the staircase was the base of the obsidian spire. Beautiful blue orchids surrounded it, and few animals used this place as a resting ground. Herds of stags and buffalos slept beside the spire.
The ground was made of a single slab of stone. It was shaped like a disk, and it carried numerical inscriptions from one to a hundred. Light refracted from the spire, shining a spotlight on number IX (nine), whilst a heavy shadow was cast over X (ten) and the numbers immediately following it.
Moss covered most of the stone, creating a pliable soft sponge that made for a good cushion. Frost did not allow them to rest yet since they were now in the presence of the spire, and she kept them prepared for whatever was about to occur.
But nothing happened for the next thirty minutes. They were left to stand by the spire, wondering if they were waiting for daylight to return, or if they had to fulfil a special Condition to progress.
Curious, Frost gave the spire a touch. Nothing happened. The material was cold to the touch, and a dark shadow formed directly where her hand made contact with the obsidian. When she peered deeper, she saw a faint light in her own reflection.
“A Looking Glass this big should have an instantaneous effect.” Frost knocked on it.
“Harder!” Jury smashed her fist against it, but the spire did not budge. “Awww.”
“So what are we waiting for?” Raoul asked.
“For Act X, I guess.” Frost stretched, and winded her hand back like she was about to throw a devastating punch.
But then, she plopped onto a mossy cushion and patted her lap.
“Joy~ Wanna sleep? I see you yawning over there.”
“Malgam.” Joy sleepily shuffled over. Her foot was caught on a deeply cut inscription, and she tumbled onto Frost’s lap. “Gam!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. My girl needs to sleep.” Frost assailed her with motherly headpats. “You should sleep too Raoul. Orth, Thras. Come. Lots of room beside me.”
“May I claim that back of yours, Mother?” Acedia dropped her guard entirely. As the second strongest person here, she was expected to keep watch. But her indulgence knew no bounds.
Though given that there didn’t seem to be any threats the Judge’s Prides could pick up, Frost allowed Acedia to rest her body against her back.
“Res?” Frost offered a hand.
It was quickly swallowed by the fluff of her tail as she stood around, arms folded.
“Don’t need to ask me twice.”
Jury had already claimed Frost’s other hand. Veins popped along her forehead, a sign that she wished she could monopolize Frost for herself. But alas, she resigned and believed this was a sign that Frost was indeed an absolute good.
Otherwise, why would so many people nestle around her?
Comments
BobpleTheGreat
Thanks for the chapter!
