Under False Pretenses

__NOTOC__ __NOEDITSECTION__
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
<tabber>
|-| Notes = 
A fanfiction by Revek set in Pantala, approximately thirty years after the Tree Wars.
This fanfiction does delve into the HiveWing oppression of SilkWings, and touches on kidnapping, death, and light depictions of gore. The presence of these topics does not exceed the precedent set by the canon series.
|-| Credits = 
*Writing and cover art done entirely by Revek.
*Coding for the sticky Table of Contents provided by Julian.
|-| Characters =
Characters listed in order of mention.
Personal
*Countess Ossarium (she/her)
*Psyche (they/them)
*Izula (she/her)
*Riodinidae (he/him)
*Palamedes (he/him)
*Sphex (xe/xem)
*Hyaliodes (he/him)
*Daedalus (he/him)
*Syrphid (she/her)
Others
*Geometric Figure (Seb, he/him)
*Figure Eight (Seb, they/them)
*Checkerspot (Icey, she/her)
*Lilac (Rain, she/her)
*Savannah (Akari, she/her)
*Dream (Chocolate, she/her)
*Pallida (Clover, they/them)
*Milionia (Skye, she/they)
*Black Widow (Angel, she/her)
*Camberwell (SnowFlakeDrake88, she/her)
</tabber>
==Prologue==
Countess Ossarium was not a noble by blood. She clawed her way into royalty, escaping a dragon she despised into marriage with one she hated. At least this one was rich. It was a cold comfort that morning, as early sunlight doused her garden in the Aerie with lazy gray light. The yellow glow of the flamesilk lamps felt chilly as she contemplated her options.
Ah. Her daughter. "I have a daughter. Her name is Izula." Lady Mantis watched her, patient as she formed the words. It felt odd. She had a son. She didn't like him much either. "I have not seen her in a decade."
Had she seen her much before? Ossarium had always been working. Did she even choose that name? Izula. She had a daughter named Izula.
Lady Mantis nodded, leaning forward. "I understand you are not currently in contact with her. However, I hope you understand why I reached out to you, countess." She sipped her tea, a blend she had brought herself. It felt like a taunt.
"You wish to send her a servant." Ossarium nodded. "She's a mosaic artist. What could she need one for?"
"She's quite popular among the Hives, yes." Her mouth pressed thin. "She works much too slow, however. I simply cannot continue funding her if she does not create. Giving her servants always seems to improve her speed."
"She's had them before?"
"Yes, two so far. They didn't last long." Lady Mantis said, her claws curling tighter around the teacup. "I'm sure you understand what has been happening in this Hive."
Incompetent. Ossarium shook away the thought. "I still don't understand why you need my assistance with this, milady. I do not keep many servants and they're all rather important to the maintenance of my home."
"I want someone competent assigned to her." The teacup left her talons, and she leaned forward on the table. "You have always proven yourself adept at judging quality."
"I'm sure Izula is quite capable on her own."
"She refuses. I'm sure as her mother you'll be able to convince her. You may not have seen her in years, but you never lose those instincts."
Her ex-husband had always been the childrearer. Yet Lady Mantis controlled the Hive and thus could cut away the strings that tethered Ossarium to this new life in seconds. She needed the lady's favor. "I see. I will send her a suitable servant."
Lady Mantis smiled. "Thank you, countess."
The morning faded into another busy day, then night and three days passed as Ossarium watched her servants bustle about, heads always tilted respectfully. It was a dull exercise. Yet, blessedly, it gave her a solution, a servant who had been here a while, their duties slowly absorbed by others. She could pluck them from the web without much issue.
Psyche, a SilkWing painted in red and pink, one who had been here for perhaps five years as their coworkers left. They were agreeable and efficient. They just weren't necessary anymore. She had always quite liked their work. It was a shame.
She framed it as an offer, but Psyche easily accepted it without question. Perhaps they knew it was a situation with only one outcome, like many of the political games between nobles.
It was a silly thought, that a SilkWing could understand it well enough to play.
Yet Psyche nodded and thanked her, before heading off on a last market trip to gather some supplies. By the fourth day, they were ready.
Ossarium was not prepared to visit the daughter she barely remembered. It was like a blank spot in her memory, a concept that something was there that she never explored further. She thought of that name and felt a cold indifference.
She was still mulling it over when they arrived at Izula's door and kept on thinking before Psyche politely edged their way into her vision. She took in a breath, noted the plainness of the entrance, and knocked.
A long pause.
"Madam, I believe there's a doorbell."
There was indeed, tucked along the edge of the doorframe. She pressed it, and mechanical whirring heralded the muffled ring of a bell. Moments later, the door creaked open.
Izula had changed. Ossarium wasn't sure what else she expected. The last she remembered of her was as a small dragonet, emerging from her egg. Sleeping soundly when Ossarium finally returned home. Not the barest of recognition in her face when she was awake. Yet there was recognition in this face now, framed with sharp cheekbones instead of the softness of youth.
"Mother." The word oozed, twisted with thin anger. "A delight to see you. How has nobility been treating you?"
She knew. Of course she knew, she was always so clever, so proud of it. "I am bringing you a servant," Ossarium said. "On the request of Lady Mantis."
Izula's eyes narrowed. "I specifically told her not to do that anymore."
"She specifically asked me to do so."
"You finally said hello." Izula shifted to lean against the door, the subject changing with that. "Thought you were checking on the daughter you abandoned after all these wonderful years. Turns out you're only here because the Lady demanded it, hm?"
"It's rather hard to believe that you would have preferred my presence earlier."
"Maybe during childhood." Izula scoffed. "Father wouldn't have gotten on such a high horse, now would he? Raising a child alone because his wife couldn't care less, oh how heroic of him."
"You do not speak of your father that way—"
"Like you loved him any more than I do?" Izula spat. "I cannot see a mother, looking at you. Just a greedy, broken dragon who could never have enough—"
"I was the only reason you survived!" Ossarium snapped, "He was a dirt poor dragon that never cared enough to work, I had to claw my way up through every promotion to support a family I didn't even like."
"Finally willing to admit it, aren't you? You left us the moment you could." Izula smirked.
Their spat lapsed into silence until red wings twitched at the edge of Ossarium's vision and she remembered what she was here for. "This is Psyche. They will handle your cleaning and errands. It looks like you need the help." She pointed her gaze towards the open room beyond the door, careful to avoid Izula's cold look.
Psyche bowed their head. "It's a pleasure to meet you." They said as if they didn't just witness that explosive argument. 
Izula regarded them, her face unreadable. "How much did you pay them?"
"Excuse me?"
"What was their weekly pay?"
"Izula, don't you understand that we—"
"How much do you pay your servants, countess?"
"We provide them food and shelter, we buy them supplies if they request it and we deem it necessary. They live in a mansion with us, Izula, there's no need to give them pocket change."
"So you don't."
"... No, I don't."
Izula leaned down towards Psyche conspiratorially. "What do you think would be reasonable? Seventy scales a week?"
Psyche who, up until now had been respectfully standing, stumbled before catching themself. "It is not my choice to make." They said, after a pause. Ossarium stared after that display of self control with envy. She herself clearly didn't have enough.
"What is the purpose of this?" She asked, "Trying to paint me as the villain to your new servant again?"
"You don't pay your staff, countess. What else is there to say?"
"It is perfectly legal—"
"Legal does not mean moral." Izula ushered Psyche into her house, and the SilkWing gave Ossarium a polite wave before they disappeared inside. "I thought you were aware of that, working in law as you are."
"Was that another pithy phrase your father taught you?"
"He certainly had better ideals than you do. Is that why you left him?"
Ossarium smirked. "What of you, my sweet daughter? He loved you more than anything, more than he loved me, certainly. He only ever wanted to help you. And what did you do, dear?"
Izula's face twisted, cold with disgust. "Do not contact me again." The door slammed suddenly in Ossarium's face. She smiled, turning away. Ah, she remembered how much she hated her daughter now.
A pale yellow HiveWing, if that pitiful shade could be called yellow, glanced over at her from where he was leaning against a window box, studying a piece of paper. He quickly scurried away at her glare.
Izula, Izula. What a horrible little child she was, in the few moments Ossarium was present to witness her. Her claws clattered against an unfamiliar texture, and she glanced down to study the paper. A missing poster for some SilkWing lost three years ago. Nothing important.
Nothing mattered down here, in these streets. Her home was up in the Aerie, up where things were perfect. Izula could keep on grumbling around here. She didn't care. She found herself wishing Psyche luck, much to her own surprise.
They probably needed it.
==Chapter 1==
Izula slammed the door, closing her eyes for a brief moment as her breathing evened out. Psyche could practically hear her counting to ten and opted to wait patiently by the door, examining the room.
It was a large space, much like Countess Ossarium's grand entrance, but far more primitive, as if it had been scraped out of the treestuff without much thought. Furniture was carved directly into the walls or haphazardly placed. Flamesilk lit the place brightly, coiled in glass shells, the shutters scattered across the room. Fresh, new strands.
Despite the questionable aesthetic taste of the room, Izula had to be fairly well off to afford that.
The HiveWing shifted, bringing Psyche's attention back to her. She was a curious combination of colors, deep reds scattered with yellow spots that almost seemed to glow. Pretty. "Well, keys are on the shelf there, so if you're going out on an errand be sure to get them. Supplies are in the closet, and your room — why don't I just show you around?"
Her home was like a system of tunnels, the rooms connected by winding hallways, all brightly lit. Izula stayed ahead of Psyche, guiding them through halls they knew they would get hopelessly lost in.
"That's the kitchen." Izula pointed. "I do the cooking there so you won't need to visit too often besides dusting some of the corners." A pause. "You may have to clean that up, actually, I haven't been keeping on top of it very well."
Psyche nodded, studying Izula's expression. She seemed bored, her eyes barely focused as she led Psyche around. Maybe tired too, even as her mouth pressed into a polite smile.
Rio always told them that eyes revealed the secrets of the soul, through the subtle ways they blinked and flexed. Mouths could whisper lies, but eyes could never hide. They realized they had stopped listening to Izula at some point, walking past multiple tunnels without processing her explanation. They could always explore and figure it out later.
Izula gestured towards the entrance of a tunnel, halfway up the wall along the side of one hall. Psyche would have to fly to reach it. "That goes towards your quarters. They're pretty dusty but it's not a bad place, let me know if you need anything." Before waiting for a response, she looked down the hall before glancing back, eyes suddenly bright. "Do you want to see the mosaic I'm working on?"
Psyche nodded quickly. It was almost automatic, agreeing to whatever a HiveWing wanted, but they couldn't say they weren't interested.
The hall opened up into a room even larger than the entrance, a skylight letting in a ray of morning sunlight. They glanced up, wondering how it managed to reach this far. Sunlight was rare this deep in the hives. Something sparkled in the corner of their eyes, and they turned, gasping in surprise.
Attached to a metal and leather frame, the mosaic was much smaller than the ones they had seen before but still managed to take up half of the room. Looping swirls of different blues tiled over the canvas, charcoal sketching a dragonfly above lily pads. Every tile glittered brightly, and they held a talon up to the tiles, entranced by how the sun refracted off both in the same brilliant way. How did Izula manage to create that sort of iridescence? "It's beautiful," They murmured, not quite realizing they were speaking out loud. "How long does this take?"
Izula laughed. "Oh, I have no idea how long it'll take. I don't like using the typical black dye others use on the tiles — it's way too matte for my tastes — and obsidian is impossible to get. An entire continent and we can only manage one volcano?" She sighed. "I'm still trying to figure out exactly what shades I want for the water, but I know I want it darker and those kinds of dyes are a pain to get." She muttered something about Queen Wasp, but Psyche couldn't see how that connected.
"I'm sure you'll find a way!" They stuttered to a stop, realizing they spoke out of turn. Izula didn't seem to notice. "Um, so, how did you make it so shiny?"
Izula flashed a grin. "Oh, that's a trade secret. I mix my own dyes and I'm not about to share the formula." She brought over a bowl of tiles, all the same light shade of blue. "It's such an annoying process though, so I'm just going through the ones I've already polished first."
Psyche nodded, happy enough to keep up the casual conversation. Their eyes landed on Izula's claws, sharp and curled, a dark brown stained with dark red. Red.
Their face must have changed because suddenly Izula was invading their space, gently supporting them with her wings as she peered down. Her palms felt warm and smooth against their scales, even as their stomach twisted, remembering the shade of her claws. She looked concerned. Worried, sharp features tangled and creased. Psyche squinted up at her. A flicker of confusion in her eyes. Annoyance.
Ah, the last one was expected.
They found their footing, carefully untangling themself from Izula's clutches. "Oh, sorry, I... just, your claws..." Of course their manners had to leave as soon as they messed up.
Izula glanced down, then her eyes widened. "Oh, that's just the red dye I use. It stains way easier than all the other ones and I've never been too good at getting rid of it. Why would that...?"
Psyche took a breath, their face reddening. "Ah, sorry, I'm just a little squeamish around blood." They tried to speak again, maybe start apologizing, but Izula gently cut them off.
"Oh, that's alright. If it helps, it's just made from snail shells. Powdered and processed. I get a little messy when working with dye but it's only ever the red that stays behind. I'm sorry for stressing you out like that."
Oh, she apologized. Psyche had never heard of dye being made that way, but it made enough sense. "I'm okay," They said, "Thank you."
Izula nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Let's go see the rest of the house then?"
Grateful for the distraction, Psyche quickly agreed. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. She apologized. For something that was barely her fault. Psyche... really appreciated that. Izula made lunch — Psyche was here to clean, not to cook. She cooked them some yam, along with an unidentified animal that they politely looked away from. Lunch was nice, a respite before they tackled cleaning.
It certainly wasn't as messy as the Countess insisted it was, but there was a fair bit of dust and dishevelment in the corners of the rooms. They got to work. Izula's house was surprisingly advanced despite the bareness of the look. She had proper plumbing installed, and they excitedly used a bit more water than was needed as they mopped down the walls. She was a little bare of proper supplies, which Psyche mourned, but they could work with that.
They wandered down the halls they missed Izula explaining. One ended in a large and foreboding door, edges darkened with rust and the lock prominently featured. The air smelled oddly coppery, although that might just be the rusting metal. They racked their head, trying to remember what Izula said about this place. They really needed to stop zoning out all the time.
"What are you doing?" Psyche flinched at the sharp voice, turning to see Izula glaring at them accusingly. They shrank back as she approached, her face twisted. "Three moons, I told you this area was off limits! What are you doing?" They started to mutter off a string of apologies, but she kept talking. "I have one boundary. One thing I explicitly ask you not to do, and you immediately go off to look. No one ever respects that! You'd think SilkWings of all dragons would, but of course not. Mother's just sent me another worm."
"I'm sorry!" Psyche quickly pushed in as Izula took a breath. "I just got a little lost and was looking around, I wasn't trying to get in or anything and I..." They kept speaking, but they couldn't hear their own babbling. They just didn't want to listen to the shouting, they didn't want to mess it up this early. Izula was so much kinder than the Countess and yet...
Their thoughts stilled as Izula pulled them into her talons, whispering her apologies. "I didn't mean to yell, I'm sorry for freaking you out. I assumed your intentions there when I shouldn't have." She kept repeating those words, gently guiding Psyche out of the hall until they finally calmed. She stepped off towards the kitchen, quickly returning with water.
"Sorry, it won't happen again," Izula said, as Psyche carefully drank. "I do all of the dye mixing and such in that room. A lot of dragons always ask about my process and that's a private thing, I don't want to share and they get very invasive about it. I didn't explain why I didn't want you going there and the layout of the house is definitely confusing so I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to get yelled at."
"I'm okay." Psyche murmured, still sipping at the water. It was refreshing on their tongue. "I should have remembered you didn't want me there and turned around earlier."
"You're new here. I was the one that should have given you time to adjust. You've been doing a fantastic job cleaning already. I can finally see the floor in some places." She chuckled. "Here, let me get you some dinner. Take a break for a bit."
Psyche welcomed the invitation. "You're very good at cooking."
"My father taught me, originally. I'm better at it." They twitched at the contempt in her voice. "He kept on acting like he made me who I am just because he helped me learn when I was younger. I'm my own dragon, hard as it is to believe."
"I believe that." Psyche chirped before they could stop themself, and that earned them a smile.
"Glad to hear. What would you like for dinner?"
They tilted their head, pondering that question. "Well, what do you have? I wouldn't want to impose..."
Izula stood, mirth barely stifled. "You live here now. You get a say in things, just so you know. I'll go make some stew though, if you'd like that?" They gasped, almost instinctively. "Alright, stew it is."
They raised a talon in goodbye, but then she paused to look back. "Oh, and I'm sorry about the... comment about SilkWings. Wasn't right of me to say that." With that, she turned away.
Psyche found themself smiling at nothing as Izula disappeared into the kitchen. She apologized, again, for something that was entirely their own fault. She truly cared, didn't she? Even though it had been less than a day. Even though Psyche was a SilkWing.
That was a silly thought. They were the same. Rio knew that. Rio kept on sharing that, insisting on it, telling his story of a time when the Hives were just one, lush with greenery. The Hives are new. The servitude is new. Freedom was less than their own lifetime away in Pantala's memory. The Countess had said Izula was a couple moons younger than them, yet she seemed to understand. Did she understand?
Izula's voice called them to dinner. The stew warmed their palms and her eyes crinkled with unspoken contentment. It didn't matter if she understood, they decided. Even though Izula got angry, she realized it was her fault. She'd apologized. She said it wouldn't happen again. They felt comfortable.
That was enough.
==Chapter 2==
A week into their stay, Psyche sat spinning silk into yarn into fabric. Izula's blankets and bed were nice enough, but the cloth was rough in the way HiveWings preferred, and their claws yearned more for the give of a hammock. As Psyche knitted strands together, they wished they could have brought the one back home here. Their former home, they corrected mentally. This was home now, with its narrow hallways that burrowed through treestuff and connected impossibly large rooms. Psyche just needed more time to adjust.
"What are you up to?" The voice jolted them out of their thoughts. Izula sat casually in the open doorway, eyes tracing over the silvery mass of cloth strewn across the floor.
Psyche quickly stood up and tilted their head down in respect, laying the knitting to rest. Their silk needed time to replenish anyway. "Knitting a hammock."
"Don't you have a bed already?" Izula's voice was even, and against their own instincts, Psyche stole a glance up at her face. Her eyes glittered with amusement and a hint of confusion. 
Psyche took a careful breath. "I'm used to hammocks, so I generally find them more comfortable than beds, and I like making things." They risked a light laugh. "I was never too good at tapestries in class."
Izula nodded passively. She stepped around the half-finished hammock, picking up a corner. "Fantastic work." She murmured, almost to herself. There wasn't a trace of annoyance or frustration in her gaze, none of the anger that every Hivewing seemed to stew in when their charity was rejected.
Psyche almost cracked a smile. This was... nice. They pulled themself out of their thoughts to glance over at Izula. "Um, is there any reason you're here?"
Izula glanced up from the knitting, letting it finally fall from her claws. "Right! Right, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go up to the marketplace to explore a little, see what everyone has to offer. I'll pay for everything! You've been such a wonderful help around the house and I thought you'd like a little treat."
Psyche's eyes widened, "Oh that would be lovely! I've been meaning to stock up on some supplies anyway."
"You're so practical about everything," Izula said, but she was grinning. "Let's just have a good time looking around!" She stood and disappeared off into the hallway before Psyche could speak.
Psyche checked on the corner Izula had held. She'd been surprisingly careful with it, the yarn unharmed. Satisfied, they placed it down. Hm, maybe they could work on it for a little longer while Izula was getting ready?
"Psyche, you coming?"
"Yep!" Psyche called back, quickly cleaning up their quarters a little before dashing through the tunnels to join Izula, out into the world.
The marketplace sprawled across the upper layers of the Hive, dozens of shops tucked into hexagonal nooks across the walls and spread across the central level of the spiraling structure in the middle, tucked between the library and the fanciful homes of the upper class. With the morning still early, only a few dragons were wandering between the stalls. Psyche's eyes immediately fell upon the scattered billboards of missing dragons. At least a dozen SilkWings... where could they have all gone?
"Hm?" Izula questioned, and Psyche quickly realized they must have said that aloud.
"The missing SilkWings." They gestured towards the billboards, face creased in concern. "I always thought there'd be more outrage about that. Guess everyone got tired of looking."
Izula was frowning at the images. "Oh. I didn't realize..."
"Didn't realize?" Psyche prompted.
Izula shook her head with a sigh. "Sorry, I just didn't... well, my previous servant went missing in a similar way. Didn't realize I could report that." Psyche opened their mouth, but Izula continued. "I always thought they just ran off and found a better place."
No one else noticed they were missing? No one else thought to report that to Lady Mantis? "What do you mean?"
It took Izula too long of a pause to respond. "I..." She made a face. "I was not the... kindest to them." She laughed. "All of these dragons probably just ran off to the savannah, hm? Nature is far kinder to SilkWings than we are in the Hives." Her eyes glinted with an emotion Psyche couldn't parse, but the SilkWing nodded anyway.
"You seem kind enough." They offered.
Izula smiled. "I try to be. Now, let's look around."
With that, the mood broke as Izula pulled Psyche around. Psyche found more supplies. A sponge from Dragonfly Bay, soap that made them zone out as the shopkeeper started to explain the process of making it, wooden needles to replace the metal ones Psyche had been using.
"That stuff is going to rot," Izula told them. "Wasp's also really pushing for exterminating trees too. I'm sure this shop will close down within the year."
"I don't really like the metal needles. Knives too, those kinds of sharp things." Psyche confessed. "Feels too much like I'm going to stab myself on them if I'm not careful. I'd much prefer the Queen's wrath."
"Afraid? That doesn't suit you." Her eyes twinkled.
Psyche felt themself flush and barely restrained themself from lightly elbowing Izula. Wouldn't be a good look in public.
They explored the marketplace a bit more, sorting through a flurry of shops until Izula dragged Psyche to a small stall selling satchels. The SilkWing had smiled as Psyche unceremoniously dumped all their purchases into the bag.
As they left, Izula gently tapped Psyche. "You want to get some earrings?"
"Huh?"
"You're buying stuff with a lot of utility. That you can use for cleaning or are generally necessities, and that's great! However, I do think you deserve to be spoiled a little! I just think you'd look lovely in earrings." Izula clasped her talons together, her smile bright.
Psyche unconsciously fiddled with their earlobes. Of course Izula would notice the holes, something that Psyche had almost begged for as a dragonet. They had probably started closing up over time though...
"Sure?" Before Psyche had even finished that uncertain word, Izula dragged them off.
The jewelry shop was a pretty place, filled with a bright white light that Izula excitedly explained came from a complex tunnel of mirrors. "You know, I worked on that for my graduation project! They catch all the sunlight they can before. They would need to switch over to flamesilk at night, but they just close instead. Less expensive for them."
Psyche nodded along. That made a lot of sense, with flamesilk controlled by the few families of SilkWings that could produce it. They lived in incredible wealth, even compared to the noble HiveWings, something that seemed to annoy everyone. Their thoughts cut off as they stepped into the blinding light. Every direction they looked at another jewel reflected it into their face. Before their eyes could adjust, Izula's insistent claws brought them to the section with earrings.
"Look at this pair! I think they fit you!"
Psyche blinked rapidly until they finally managed to focus on the large twin suns dangling from Izula's claws, fashioned from a shining gold. They tried their best not to frown. "It feels a little... fancy?" They tried, glancing around as if an employee might sweep out of nowhere and kidnap them for daring to voice criticism.
Izula's face twisted. "Hm. Which one do you think would fit you then?" Her voice had an odd tone, but Psyche's attention quickly shifted away before they could register it, eyes rapt upon the dazzling array on the walls.
Gemstones of every color, polished and faceted, framed in metallic shades. Their eyes landed on two amethyst-eyed birds, an intricate cascade of gold, polished jade loops. It was dizzying, a room seemingly unsorted, the neatly placed earrings creating a brilliant rainbow that Psyche's eyes couldn't find a place to rest on, much less choose. Every option was too much, too large or too bright, a flashiness that Psyche felt at odds with. Then, as if answering their cry for help, the wall offered them two rubies, shaped like tears...
"...Or leaves." Rio smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkled with age, with decades of his steadfast smile. Psyche likes that about him. They hope that the same will happen to Palamedes one day. He doesn't smile enough. They don't mention that to Rio, though, as he sketches out the shape again.
It bores easily into the treestuff, his claws tracing over the teardrop shape until it's visible under the dying flamesilk light. It's from Cicada Hive. It represents all they have lost and all they are fighting for. A red tear, a drop of blood, a fallen leaf.
Rio's eyes always brighten at their poetry. "It is a symbol," he rumbles, "of the day we will once again spread our wings into freedom."
The memory tore away like paper left in rain. Psyche wondered briefly if the HiveWing owners of this shop knew, before Izula's talons gently clasped at their shoulder, her palm smooth. "Are you doing alright there, Psyche?"
They trembled under the contact but forced their face into a smile. "Apologies, I must have zoned out. I do think these earrings look nice." After a brief, panicked attempt to locate it again, they gestured towards the pair. "I like the... simplicity?"
Izula examines Psyche's choice, before frowning. "Are you sure? You deserve the extra decor." She lifted up the suns. "These are perfect for you! The intricacy reflects the wearer's soul, and gold complements your scales so well."
"My wings are also red, I think that would match fairly well?"
"Oh dear, no, that just won't do. Your wings have a distinct pink undertone, while the rubies lean more orange. The colors would clash too much. The gold will look much better."
Psyche started to say something, maybe that the orange undertones were just the yellowed hues of the treestuff showing through, but they relented. Better not to anger one's employer. "Alright, we can go with the suns, then."
Izula brightened immediately. "Oh, I knew you'd come around to them! Let's go!" She steered them back to the front of the store, paying the shopkeeper with sugary words and more scales than Psyche had ever seen in their life. She pressed the earrings into their talons as the two left the store, and Psyche hesitantly brought them to their ear.
Izula cheered like it was a personal victory for her, producing a small mirror from inside their bag. "Look at that! Isn't that beautiful?"
It looked awful and hung too heavily from Psyche's ears, but Izula seemed so gleeful that they simply nodded along. They glanced up at her, focusing on her eyes beyond her brilliant smile. She was happy? No, that wasn't quite right. There was something else there, but before Psyche could reach for the words, Izula was pulling them away once more, chattering about the sun and supper. They ate through a mounting headache and tucked into bed, practically ripping the suns out of their ears.
The tension finally dissipated. Psyche stared at the flamesilk lamp suspended above them as they curled until the half-finished hammock. The shuttered cover still allowed little slits of light to dance around the room. Izula's eyes flickered in the shadows, under Psyche's eyelids.
She looked smug.
==Chapter 3==
Perception waxed and waned through the skylight, and Izula's mosaic barely changed. Psyche didn't wander into the room often, only coming by weekly to sweep away the dust and check for termites, careful not to disturb the dozens of scattered tiles.
This time, however, Izula sat there, staring at the mosaic. Her claws held a translucent piece of paper over it, squinting, the lamp next to her shuttered. The evening sky filled the room, painting the mosaic with a purple wash, her scales glowing like so many fireflies. As Psyche entered, she looked up, weary. "Good to see you, Psyche. You're cleaning this late?" She set the paper down, jumbled charcoal marks barely visible in the gloom.
"It's a large house," Psyche shrugged, placing down their supplies, glad to feel their front talons fully on the ground again. "You're working on the mosaic?" They tilted their head too far and winced as the earrings' weight shifted. They'd never get used to that.
Izula patted the ground next to them, pulling the cap off the lamp to let yellow light spill across the floor. "Sit down." Her eyes turned back towards the mosaic, as she picked up the translucent paper. "I'm trying to see if I could shift the composition a bit. Black's a difficult color to get and I have a deadline. I don't think I could live with myself if this doesn't turn out perfectly." She chuckled dryly.
Psyche leaned over towards the piece of paper. "Why so many numbers?"
Izula glanced down. Straight lines scored the paper, marked with angles and numbers. "Art involves math." They waited for elaboration that didn't come.
The silence stretched on, shadows deepening in the corners. Psyche watched the flamesilk, coiled in the lamp. "It always looks so otherworldly." They said, half to themself. "I even grew up with a flamesilk SilkWing — and I just never get used to it."
"You knew a flamesilk?"
They glanced up at Izula. She had turned fully to them, expectant. They nodded, their claws dancing just close enough to the silk to feel its warmth. "I never understood how he could hate having so many riches when we were dragonets, until he grew up and just got so exhausted. Producing so much silk takes it out of you. I know it's necessary, there's only so few flamesilk dragons for so many Hives, but..."
"Queen Wasp's been publishing a lot about it." Izula laughed, sharp in the still air. "She's still trying to convince those families to hand their supplies over to her, but they both know the SilkWings have leverage here. A rare reversal of powers, isn't it?"
They shrugged. "I wish they used it for more. They just keep negotiating for more funds, more treasures, while the rest of us live in squalor."
"Dragons can be selfish." Izula shrugged. "I'm sure Queen Wasp will have her way eventually. She's wiping a tribe out for standing against her, she's not the kind to accept a loss."
"Making policies every day just to ruin lives." Psyche froze up for a moment. Izula wasn't Rio, she wasn't someone they could talk to about just anything. 
"The checkpoints, right?" Izula said, voice smooth as ever. "She keeps on placing more restrictions on SilkWings. I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to brand you like livestock." A pause. "Sorry. It must be frustrating when everyone just goes along with it, isn't it? No one is willing to fight her."
Psyche stared up into the skylight, watching as the edge of Imperial worked its way across that small slice of sky. "Do you think about this a lot?"
Izula shifted as she settled down more comfortably. "I am not a SilkWing, I don't think I could ever see the world the same way you do. I try to understand, though." Crickets chirped, somewhere. Perhaps inside the house. Psyche would have to chase them out, later. "Tell me more about your friend."
They had nearly forgotten that point of the conversation. "Yeah, he just kind of hates it. Once he turned out to have the gene that's all anyone ever cared about. He gets like a day off a week from it, just because pumping out silk as soon as it appears isn't feasible long term. He won't ever need to worry about having enough scales, but does that matter when he can never enjoy leisure?"
"Mm. Do you agree with him?"
"I don't think I'm as... pessimistic?" Psyche laughed. "I quite like it, working at this house. The busywork keeps me sane." Izula didn't speak, so they continued. "You know it's funny, I had a crush on him for a bit, back when I was really young. It faded by the time we became friends. I think I was lucky it did, because when his wings came in it was stunning."
"Ah, childhood crushes." Izula giggled. "I never had them, but it was fun messing around with my friends that did."
"I just like staring at his scales because they looked like a clear sky." Psyche confessed. "I didn't expect his wings to be so stark though. I always thought they'd be pink. Would complement his colors better." They added the last sentence as an afterthought. Maybe to hint that they actually understood the concept when Izula didn't.
If she picked up on it, she didn't say anything, her eyes wandering back towards the mosaic. "What color were his wings?"
"Oh, just this bright white contrasting with dark blue." Psyche started towards the bowls of tiles before deciding to be better "It was nearly black, kind of like your mosaic tiles. It was just so unusual, I don't think any of his parents had such a dark color on them."
Izula turned to look at them. "Do you think I could talk to him for a bit?" She noted Psyche's confusion. "Just the whole perspective thing, you know? Since he sounds like a friend."
They nodded after a moment. "I can ask him, yes. I was planning on visiting him tomorrow anyway. I haven't been able to talk to him in a while."
"Sounds like a plan!" Izula clasped her talons together. "You know I'm always free. One of the perks of being self-employed!"
Psyche smiled. "You are, but you better not stress out about this all night."
"I'm paying you to clean the house, not to parent me." Izula retorted, but her eyes were bright and she was soon laughing. "Good night, Psyche."
"Night." They inclined their head, formally, and Izula started laughing again. They left with a bounce in their step, excited for the next morning.
Morning came with a damp air that itched their scales and glued the threads of their handmade hammock together stiffly. It must have rained in the night, and the Hive woke up humid and disgruntled. A quick glance around the house revealed that Izula wasn't around, but the skylight had been closed to keep out the rain. Of course she stayed up late.
Psyche considered waiting for breakfast, but the growl of their stomach felt like nothing, so they simply scrawled a note that they were going to see their friend. They were nearly out the door before they went back to add that they'd pick some food up from the marketplace, too.
Palamedes, despite the rain, was out where he always was, in the lush gardens on the top of the Hive. He looked up when he spotted their scales, giving them a halfhearted wave.
Psyche settled down next to him. They told him about their life, as he always welcomed them. His eyes were half brimmed and distanced, but his ears flicked and told them he was listening. It always started this way. Nothing happened to him, so they had to cover for both of them.
By the time they finished, he was studying them intently and gladly told them why. "What's up with the earrings?"
"Oh, Izula liked them." Psyche shrugged. "You know, there were some red droplet earrings there. You'd think it was on purpose if the place wasn't run but by the most pompous HiveWings you've ever seen." They actually didn't know that for sure, shrouded in that bright light. It was easy to assume.
"And you didn't get them?"
"Izula thought the suns looked better." 
"Why not both?"
"I didn't think of that."
He rubbed his eyes. "Alright, let's go get you some way better earrings." He was pulling them away before they could protest. "I'll pay."
"We can't just walk into a shop like that!—"
"I am rich and famous." He said flatly, but his mouth twitched with amusement. "Let me treat you just this once, Psyche. You deserve a little prize for hanging out with someone as insufferable as me."
"You're literally not—"
"Do you not want those earrings?" He grinned as they pressed their lips together thinly. "Which way is it?"
Palamedes practically dragged them through the entrance back into the flag, and they tumbled for a moment before righting themself. The store was far less easy to spot this time, its innards darkened by the cloudy sky. Inside, the air felt gray, but it was far easier on their eyes this time.
Psyche got lost. Palamedes found the earrings immediately. "Oh, this is definitely on purpose. Unless they noticed the theming the Cicada Hive was doing and thought it was some SilkWing aesthetic thing?"
"Keep your voice down!" Psyche snapped, a bit loudly. "It's a generic shape and color. That's the whole point."
Palamedes pressed a talon to his lips and smiled sweetly, melting away to navigate his way back to the shopkeeper without them.
By the time they found their way back out, he had them in his talons. "Want to try them on now? You'd look way better." He paused. "I did not mean it that way. The suns are... simply very ugly."
Psyche snatched the earrings and dropped it into their bag. "I'll show you another time." They agreed, but it felt... improper to admit that. "Oh! Speaking of Izula, she actually asked to talk to you."
Palamedes gave them a weird glance. Right, they hadn't actually brought her up yet. "I hope you put in a flattering word." He frowned. "What does she want with me?"
"Perspective apparently? She seems genuinely interested in how we view life and stuff. I think it's worth chatting with her about it."
"You... didn't mention the Chrysalis to her, did you?"
"Palamedes, I may be liking a HiveWing a lot more than I should but I'm not stupid."
"Of course not." He said lightly. "I'd be happy to go visit her now! You could even show me around your house."
"It really is her house, more than mine, and I need to go grab a couple more things from the marketplace." Psyches thought, "I'll just give you her address now, and we can meet up there later? Unless you have other dragons to hang out with?"
"Please, I'd love to never see my family again."
Psyches laughed, giving him the address before they swung down towards the marketplace. Just some food, another sponge— the last one had experienced a tragic death— Hm, the marketplace was really loud. It was late enough that a lot of dragons were milling around, the crowd so large it was suffocating, but it felt more like someone was yelling in their ear, an individual voice too loud to parse.
They tried to shut out the noise but it only grew shiller, and their vision felt like it was getting a little fuzzy. Their tail hurt. They felt tired, suddenly. Maybe a nap? In the middle of the marketplace? That was ridiculous, they had places to be.
They still sank into the darkness, and its warm claws welcomed them in.
==Chapter 4==
"I told you not to..."
"What else.."
"... four hours!"
The words faded in and out of Psyche's mind, and their consciousness reached out, barely able to hang onto the words around them. They managed to pry an eyelid open, even as their vision refused to focus.
"Oh hey little buddy! Sorry my partner here stabbed you, I didn't tell him to do that. I remember telling him not to do that."
"That wasn't stabbing!"
"I told you specifically not to! We're doing investigative journalism, not kidnapping! You don't just go around stabbing dragons out so you can kidnap them."
"It's not— I was calling out to them a bunch and they didn't— You're the one who tied them up anyway."
Wait, what.
Psyche jerked forward weakly only to confirm that they were, indeed, restrained with rope. They were helpfully provided with a spike of adrenaline, which did nothing to clear their head and only make them more nauseous. None of this was real. It was just a really surreal dream, wasn't it? It would explain a lot. They shut their eyes again.
Someone was talking. Someone pressed water to their mouth. It tasted sweet.
"...sorry about the whole tying you up thing. I just wanted to talk before you killed us or something." The voice was apologetic. Psyche appreciated that. They tried to nod but ended up almost falling over. "By Clearsight, how strong of a tranquilizer is your venom?"
"A normal amount!"
Psyche's eyes actually managed to focus this time. Two HiveWings. One a stark reddish orange, the other the most pathetic, halfhearted attempt at yellow they had ever seen. "Sorry um, what do you want?"
They both stared at them for a moment that lasted a beat too long.
"I'm going to make some tea!" The yellow one declared. He was the one that... stung them. Hm. "Good luck sorting this all out Sphex you got this you're so awesome, did you know xe's the best and would forgive me immedia…" his voice trailed off as he backed out of the room and ran. 
The other HiveWing gave Psyche the awkwardest of smiles. "So... my bad. Well, it's his fault but." Xe groaned suddenly. "Apologies, for both myself and Hyaliodes. We just wanted to ask you about Izula. You know, the lady you work for."
Psyche nodded, again. Their head felt wobbly. They had managed to get themself onto their feet, and that already made them feel a bit better about things. "She's… nice."
Sphex nodded, producing a notepad from seemingly nowhere. Xe looked up at them with the most awkward smile Psyche had ever seen, before glancing back down. "So well, you know about the SilkWings, right? Over thirty missing over the last seven years, a bit of a big deal." He laughed. "Anyway, a lot of them disappeared from the Aerie, so obviously a lot of those nobles are angry." Xe circled xyr claw in the air as if xe could draw the sprawling city of palaces in the air above xim. Psyche became dimly aware that xe was directly reading off the notepad, before realizing it might be in their best interest to keep listening. "... so if Izula does anything weird or generally is hiding anything please let us know because kidnapping dragons to do unknown things to them is really bad and — oh, Clearsight."
Sphex's head settled heavily into xyr hands. Psyche couldn't help but smile.
"I am so sorry about kidnapping you," Xe said, xyr face still hidden. "I didn't think Hyaliodes meant that when he said he was going to go get you and you're probably really scared and that is entirely our fault and I, well, we, both of us don't really like to hurt people? That's pretty bad and..."
Psyche managed to drag themself over to pat gently on xyr shoulder. Sphex jumped, but quickly calmed under their touch. They tried offering a kind, understanding smile, although it probably turned out a bit lopsided. The two of them sat there for a while until Psyche managed to work up the words. "What was that about Izula again? Sorry, I think I zoned out a bit."
Sphex reached for xyr notebook, scanning over the lines."Oh, right. Just given how localized this is to our Hive, it's probably someone here, and given how secretive Izula is she seems like a solid suspect? I don't think she's let anyone into her house before you in..." Xe hummed, thinking. "Maybe three years?"
"What do I do then?" Psyche asked. Izula didn't seem like the type to do anything harmful. Why would she want to make SilkWings disappear? She was actually really... understanding about the struggles SilkWings faced. Psyche nearly said that aloud, before realizing Sphex was a HiveWing. Right. Can't be trusted with that, not now.
Xe started to say something, but it was cut short by a loud crash from downstairs and Hyaliodes shouting "Hey um. Code red! Sphex! Help me out — OW. Ow ow owww—"
"SPHEX." Psyche unconsciously brightened at the familiar voice. "GET DOWN HERE."
Xe stared out the doorway. "I'm doomed."
Psyche laughed and pulled Sphex down after them, heart light even as they nearly fell down the stairs. Izula stood over a cowering Hyaliodes, glaring around before Psyche flung themself into her arms. "Izula! Sorry about disappearing on you I went on... a bit of a detour?" She pressed a rough talon to Psyche and they leaned into the touch. 
Sphex waved. "Hey Izula, how've you been? We've been missing you over at our art club y'know?" That plastered smile was back.
"You." Izula barely even glanced at Sphex, instead fixing her eyes upon Hyaliodes. "Kidnapped my servant in the middle of the marketplace. Your idiocy is truly astounding. I could press charges right now, and—"
Psyche gently disentangled themself from the hug, but gently curled their tail around Izula's. "It's alright, they didn't mean to harm me."
Izula's glare turned towards Psyche, but her eyes quickly softened. "I'm sorry for what they've done. They've never been known for acting rationally. Let's go." She heralded them out of the house, loudly slamming the door on what they assumed to be one last desperately shouted apology. 
The walk back home lapsed into a spell of silence, with Psyche leaning against Izula because, they insisted to themself, their legs were still too weak to fully support themself. As they passed by one of many water towers, they moved their jaw carefully, checking to make sure most of the movement returned.
"You know them?"
Izula glanced down at them. "Yeah, I was on the same debate team as Sphex, years ago. Xe was a mess to work with. We ended up in the same art club after the two of them started dating but I stopped going after a few weeks. They were getting too insistent asking for advice with mosaics." She stopped walking for a moment, studying Psyche. "Again, I'm so sorry they did that. Didn't think Hyaliodes had it in him."
They smiled, "Don't worry about it! I'm alright and I don't think he did it on purpose anyway." As the two started walking again, another question came to them. "How did you find me, anyway?"
"Well, Hyaliodes stung you in the middle of the marketplace. Didn't have to go far to find someone who saw the whole thing" Izula stated, but she couldn't hide the amusement in her voice. "I should have checked earlier, but after you left I started working on the new mosaic and I suppose I got too focused. Didn't realize you hadn't returned yet until my stomach started complaining."
They rounded the corner to Izula's front door, and Psyche gladly welcomed the familiar atmosphere as she pulled open the door. They really appreciated Izula sometimes. Her kindness, her thoughtful words. The way she always cared so much, willing to listen to and help not only Psyche, but their friends. They wondered what Palamedes had discussed with her.
Oh, hm.
"Did Palamedes not come by?"
Izula glanced up from the flamesilk she was replacing. The golden silk wobbled in its holder. "...Sorry, who?"
"My friend, the one you said would come by?" Psyche frowned. "I suppose I never told you his name. He said he'd visit you right away though, because—"
"Oh!" They nearly jumped at the volume of Izula's voice. She quickly quieted down again. "Right right, he did come by, I told him to come by another time. Since it had been hours since you've gone out I didn't want to wait around in case something happened to you. Didn't know that was his name, since we didn't have the time to introduce each other."
It took Palamedes hours to come by? It wasn't like him to be late. "Oh, I can go get him now, he should still be free, since this is one of his days off." 
"Oh no, please just get some rest, I'll just reach out to him again on my own time." Izula said. She ushered Psyche away from where they were still standing in the doorway, gently leading them down upon the pillows in the corner of the room. "I imagine you're hungry after all of that."
Psyche's stomach grumbled in response. They glanced down at it in surprise, laughing. "Oh, I didn't realize... I've really been out for four hours, haven't I?"
"Around five hours by now." Izula shrugged. "I'd go make some lunch, but it's getting late for that. Would a snack be enough for now? At least until supper?"
"Honey drops."
Izula grinned and complied, disappearing down into the tunnels to leave Psyche looking up at the flamesilk lamps. Hm, she must have replaced most of them while they were away. They welcomed the brightened light.
She soon returned, honey drops in hand as she deposited herself on the pillows next to Psyche. They graciously accepted the treats, quickly shoving one into their mouth before remembering their manners. They thought again how wonderful it was to meet a HiveWing that didn't mind.
"You said you were working on the mosaic?" Psyche asked, after the drop finally melted in their mouth. 
"Oh, not quite the mosaic proper! I just finally decided to start mixing the black dye again. Such a tedious process, but I shouldn't need to do it again for a while, which is a relief." She leaned back into the pillows, sighing with content. "Had enough time to get some blue together as well! I'll need to do a bit more work in that regard but I'll finally be able to work on putting everything together again. It'll be perfect."
"Must be a relief. Which client is this for again?" 
Izula's eyes seemed to dazzle. "Lady Bloodworm! Hoping to make her appreciate the arts a little more, she's so stubborn in that regard. It's a miracle she's letting me display it in her place at all."
"Is that why it's on the canvas?" Psyche hadn't actually thought about it before, why Izula was assembling it on the board instead of directly onto a wall.
She nodded. "She wanted it portable." Izula sighed. "Imagine that, wanting an artwork made of rocks to be small and light."
"You're doing wonderfully despite those constraints."
Psyche may have imagined it, but they thought they saw Izula blush. "I hope the Lady feels the same way." She handed them another honey drop and they quickly accepted. 
The sweetness bloomed in their mouth as they unconsciously leaned into Izula's warmth. It had been a hectic morning, but everything was much calmer now. They wished they could hold onto the pleasant comfort of the moment forever.
==Chapter 5==
The next morning roused Psyche to a world still damp from rain, even as fresh air chased away the stagnant smells. They lay wrapped in their hammock, basking in its warmth as they tried to pull themself out of the drowsiness of waking.
Familiar footsteps pulled them out of their stupor, and they pulled themself out of their pillows just in time to see Izula's face appear in the doorway. "Sorry for bothering you so early this morning!" She said, cheery even as she glanced out the door sheepishly. "We're out of food. Still enough for breakfast, but I thought I'd let you know now."
Psyche nodded, untangling themself from the hammock. "Right. I think I was going to bring this up yesterday but it must have slipped my mind. Sorry about that."
"I don't blame you, you did get kidnapped."
They laughed at that. "Yeah, that really messed with my mind for a bit. I'll go get some groceries right after breakfast."
She nodded brightly. "It's already set on the table! Just come down whenever you're ready. You still look a little tired."
As soon as she left, Psyche burrowed back under the pillows, closing their eyes. The hammock welcomed them with a comforting hug. It couldn't hurt to test a moment longer.
They must have fallen asleep again, because they blinked their eyes open to a loud slam. Stumbling out of the hammock, they made their way through the house with bleary eyes, just in time to see Izula turn away from the door with a huff.
"Who was that?"
She spun around, her posture relaxing as she saw Psyche. "Just the two from yesterday. They wanted to apologize, I suppose." She shrugged. "Let's just have breakfast before it gets cold."
"I still don't get why they did the whole kidnapping thing." They thought out loud. It didn't really feel like kidnapping, but what else could they call it.
Izula settled at one end of the kitchen table, motioning for Psyche to take a seat as well. "I'm not sure how much they said to you, but they've been poking around here a lot. Asking me for a tour of the house. It's very odd."
"Right..."
"Terrible invasion of privacy. I'm sure they have other motivations. Did they tell you anything?"
"It was just Sphex talking to me." They paused, swirling around the porridge in their bowl. "Xe did say something about... the basement." They looked down at their bowl, scooping up a spoonful. It tasted good, like always.
Izula frowned at that response. "Okay."
"Have you told them about what's down there?"
"Yeah," Izula said flatly, before leaning back with a bemused sigh. "Sphex was always so annoying and insistent whenever xe got an idea stuck in xyr head. Certainly lost us a few rounds." She glanced down at her food, claws drumming on the table. "Looks like xyr boyfriend is the same way."
Psyche nodded, thoughtfully. "Perhaps you could show them around anyway? To prove that nothing's going on?"
Izula's eyes landed upon theirs, and it took everything in them to hold the gaze. She didn't move, but her eyes were clearly agitated as her voice stumbled, strained, before it smoothed itself out. "Why would I do that? They know that's where I keep and refine my dyes, they know how many fumes are down there. They know how successful I've been because I create mosaics that they could never hope to achieve. They want to know my process, even after I've made it explicitly clear that I do not want to share it with them." She took a deep breath. "If I show them my system, they will steal the concept for their own gain. They're also artists, Psyche, and there's only so many opportunities for us."
Psyche frowned. That wasn't why Sphex and Hyaliodes wanted to know at all. Yet as they thought, it… made sense. Almost, if they interpreted the actions of the two as uncharitably as they could. Xe still seemed so genuine when talking to them, was xe really able to spin such a theory when xe didn't believe in it?
Suddenly realizing the lull they left in the conversation, they opened their mouth, grasping onto the first thread they could think of. "I didn't know they were artists."
"I think they have other jobs to waste their time." Izula waved a dismissive talon. "Hyaliodes certainly only has passion for art, though he isn't all that good. It's hard to get scales with freelance work, unless you're good enough." She smiled, "My talent got recognized, you know? By Lady Cicada herself!"
"Oh!" Psyche's eyes widened. "I used to live in Cicada Hive, for a while. Did you do one of the pieces in Mosaic Garden?" They searched their memory for the names. "I always found the Salvation Wall to be such an impressive piece, although —"
"Made by yours truly." Izula's words tumbled over each other, bright with excitement. "One of the most ambitious projects I've ever tackled, and it took years. I had to compromise my vision a little — but fighting the dragons paying you is never a good idea, now is it?"
Psyche had always been perturbed by the amount of corpses depicted on that mural, but they held back that thought. "I'll make sure I never fight you, then."
Izula laughed, "You know, I'd never guess you were from Cicada Hive. Everyone there is so… dull. Nothing interesting ever happens there."
"I hatched in Bloodworm Hive, actually, spent the early part of my childhood there."
She sucked in a sharp breath. "Ooo, that is not a fun place for anyone." Psyche nodded, chuckling dryly as she continued. "Lady Bloodworm's like my mother, in some ways. Always so high and mighty about herself. At least mother dragged herself into that position, though she did leave the rest of us behind."
"Countess Ossarium was fairly pleasant to work under." Psyche commented, but they were much more focused on Izula now. She never spoke about her parents much.
"She might be a good employer, but she's no mother." Izula laughed, raising a talon to examine her ruddy claws. "She's always certain she knows what's best, although when she says that she just means what's best for herself. Does any child deserve a mother who doesn't pay attention to them? Who turns away when they ask for help?" Her fist clenched in the air. "I turned out fine. I learned to be independent. I learned to work hard for myself."
A silence fell, and Psyche let it rest as they watched Izula's talons dance through the air. They looked more discolored than usual, but it was hard to tell when she held them so far away from the lamp.
"Are you alright?" They asked, surprised by the volume of their own voice.
"Hm?"
"Oh, your talons—"
Izula brought the palm of her talons closer to the light, where the scales darkened and twisted together. She looked up, sheepish. "Burned myself while making breakfast today. I was replacing the flamesilk and, well, it didn't go too well. I'm not too worried, it'll heal with time."
Psyche ran a careful talon over the burns. They were rough, but Izula didn't flinch at all at the contact. They settled back down in their seat, satisfied for the time being.
"What about you? Are you doing alright?" Izula asked, before quickly adding "In general, I mean. Growing up in Bloodworm Hive is rough for HiveWings, with how hard she makes them work. I'm surprised no one dares complain to the queen about it, we all know they're sick of her."
"It was a fairly miserable time." Psyche said, forcing a laugh into their voice. "I had to get good at construction very quickly."
"You weren't happy there." Psyche nodded. Izula dropped her talons, studying them with a sudden care in her gaze. 
"Are you… happy? Now?"
Psyche stared at her for a long moment, unsure of what expression rested on their own face. She opened her mouth to speak, but they cut in first, unsure of what she would say next, unsure of what words their own mouth would say. "I… I do like it here, a lot really. You're wonderful to work under and you're very kind and thoughtful with your words. It's like… you really care? About me, and about other SilkWings, and how everyone treats us. And that means a lot." A vision of their earrings, golden as the sun, flashed in their mind and they pushed it aside. "You're a little overprotective sometimes, but that's fine, really. The work is a little boring but that's just how cleaning is, and I don't mind it, and… I am happy here."
Izula's face remained impassive, without a glint of her thoughts in her eyes. "That's lovely to hear. I do like having you around." She smiled. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as interesting as you."
Psyche glanced down, surprised to see the porridge long gone. Izula kept talking, eyes bright. 
"You're just so different from any SilkWing I've ever talked to, Psyche. You're a fantastic employee too, I mean, you're so efficient and I don't think I've ever had a more comfortable home. Yet beyond that, you're so practical and so thoughtful with everything you do."
They felt like their ears were buzzing, a twinge of wrongness working its way down their spine, grasping at their heart with claws dragging them to a realization they were desperately crawling away from.
"None of my other servants were like this." Izula said, her eyes unfocused, remembering something else. "They didn't care in the same way you do. They just did their duties, they got everything done, but it was all so performative and shallow. They didn't have the sorts of interesting thoughts you do. I forget you're a SilkWing sometimes, you know? Talking to you feels like talking to an equal."
Oh. Psyche found themself gripping the side of their bowl tightly, as if hoping to crush it in their grasp. They were wrong about her. The next words they spoke were plucked carefully, stilted. "Why help... them, then? You've expressed an interest in learning more from a SilkWing's perspective before." The words hurt to say. It pained them to separate themself so cleanly from their tribe, but they needed to know, they needed to be sure. "Is there that much to learn, if they're as shallow as you say?"
"You know the cats, the rabbits, the pets that some HiveWings keep?" Izula asked. Psyche nodded, their throat dry. "They used to be prey animals, and they still can be. When we do kill an animal, we're fast with it, right? We make it painless, we make their lives as comfortable as we can. It's the same way with SilkWings. Even if they're unaware of their plight, that doesn't mean they should be left to suffer, right?"
Her eyes were so genuine, so honest. Psyche pushed themself away from the table suddenly, barely hearing the loud screech they made even as Izula jumped. "I should go get some food from the marketplace." They said, hastily, "Before it, ah, gets too crowded."
Izula nodded. "Oh, of course!" Her voice was bright, but Psyche could already see the concern knitting into her brow.
"I'll be back soon," They promised, before rushing out of the room, their heart pounding as they searched for a bag, for their pouch of scales, the volume increasing in their ears until they finally closed the front door behind themself.
They clutched the bag close, breathing deeply until they calmed.
Izula acted like she cared and understood. Maybe she even thought she did, but she was no different from all the other HiveWings. Why did they think she would be different?
==Chapter 6==
Psyche slipped out into the morning marketplace. The board of missing posters had grown wet, unprotected from the rain, and ink stretched in faded marks down the matted paper. Someone had forgotten to shelter it. Around it, scales of every shade overlapped each other, dragons on their own errands for lives Psyche would never be privy to.
They dipped down to the level below the board before starting to wander between the stalls, still working out the tension in their muscles as they walked. The hushed noise of the crowds was welcoming in their ears, even as they remembered the previous day. Perhaps the idea of getting kidnapped hadn't fully sunk in yet, because they brushed the concerns aside without a second thought.
Groceries weren't often sold on the lowest level of the marketplace, where SilkWing vendors attempted to make a living wage off their wares. The sector they now wandered was filled with tapestries and artwork, and they gave each stall an appraising look. Perhaps they could pick something up to decorate their room. Would Izula mind having another artist's work in the house? They didn't know much of the etiquette.
A small dragonet, covered in green and yellow scales, materialized out of seemingly nowhere, stopping Psyche in their tracks. Their horns were far too big for their head, with spiny branches sprouting out at random places. They didn't seem affected by it, though, as they excitedly declared, "Your scales are pretty! And I like your suns!"
Psyche stared at them for a moment, unconsciously reaching for their earrings. They didn't even realize they had decided to wear them today. Izula had always loved them so much...
"Oh, thank you," they said, blinking as they realized the dragonet was already gone.
Moments later, a SilkWing cloaked in dusty brown pushed his way through the crowd, his worried eyes, magnified through circular glasses, falling upon Psyche. "O-oh! Uh, have you seen my dragonet? Their name is Figure Eight but they go by Fig m-mostly— oh that's not helpful information is it? They have um, yellow scales, weird horns?"
Psyche nodded quickly, "I just saw them, but I'm not sure where they went. I'll help you look for them?"
The SilkWing nodded, relief written across his face. "Thank you so much." He paused, as if remembering his manners. "R-right, and my name is Geometric Figure, but, ah, Geo will do."
"Psyche. It's nice to meet you, Geo." They waved the other SilkWing along.
It wasn't too hard to follow Fig's trail, at first. They turned the corner only to see a stall of tapestries, the tent overhead nearly falling over as the owner desperately pushed it upright. Psyche ran over to help, and she looked up before quickly bowing her head respectfully. "Hello! I'm Checkerspot, I'd love to help you look around once I get this sorted out. I apologize for the inconvenience."
Psyche shook their head with a light laugh, "Don't worry about it, we can help get it back up." They restabilized the tent as Geo asked Checkerspot. She was a bronze orange, speckled with dark and light shades. One of her front talons was dark gray, as if it was dipped in paint. 
After getting the tent under control, Psyche rejoined Geo's side and waved as they left. "I'll be sure to check out your shop later! Just need to hunt for a dragonet right now."
Geo nodded. "Sorry about what Figgy did to your shop." He fidgeted, pausing before he closed his mouth, as if he wanted to add more.
Checkerspot laughed. "It's all good, they apologized, and you two did help me put it back up. Good luck finding them!"
They rushed along, asking dragons as they went, with nothing more than brief sightings to follow. Psyche breathed heavily as they paused at a crossroads, Geo still by their side. "How is that dragonet so fast? We must have run across the entire lower ring by now."
Geo shrugged helplessly. "They usually don't run off this much. I'm so sorry."
Psyche shook their head. "No, no, it's alright. I decided to help out and now I'm invested." They laughed, choking over their own breathlessness.
A purple dragon emerged from a nearby stall, fiddling with her own talons as she looked over at the two. "Um, the dragonet you're looking for, are they light green? About this tall?" She raised a talon to just below her shoulder, dropping it again awkwardly. "Had uh, unusual horns."
Psyche barely managed a nod, but Geo immediately perked up. "Did you see them?" He asked. "Are they still here? We've been looking all over for them, they must be getting tired soon."
The SilkWing shook her head. She had white streaks on her wings, delicate as lace. "I mean," She said quickly. "I have seen them, they just left a while ago. They liked my paintings and really liked the," She stuttered to a stop before trying again. "They complimented one of my still lifes of some fruit and mentioned they were hungry. Perhaps that can help you figure out where to look?"
Geo nodded rapidly, "Thank you so much for your help! It's really appreciated, uh, sorry, I didn't catch your name."
She blinked, as if it took her a moment to process what Geo meant. "Oh! It's Lilac."
"Thank you, Lilac." Geo bowed. "Again, thank you so much for your help."
"Good luck finding them!"
Psyche tried not to groan as they dragged themself back onto their talons, trying to ignore the exhaustion trying to dig into their scales. Where had all their stamina gone? "I know a nearby candy shop." They said, finally catching their breath. "We can check out that one first. Do they like candy?"
"Maybe?" Geo said, quickly averting his gaze when Psyche gave him a surprised look, "They do... wander off a lot." Silence. "I mean, uh— they come back, usually! They don't go that far and not usually for this long, and—"
Psyche awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll find them!" They glanced around. "We'll have to go a level up. The shop I'm thinking of is pretty close."
They flew up to the shop, a small, tent-shaped building carved from the treestuff named The Sugar Butterfly. Psyche hadn't actually visited it before, but Palamedes was always a fan.
The shop door opened with the tinkle of a hidden bell, and the owner looked up. She was recognizably a HiveWing, despite the blues on her wings and the hood pulled over her face, casting her expression into shade. An odd outfit to wear, indoors.
"Welcome to my shop, I'm Savannah." Her voice was crisp, friendly in a carefully distant way. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"
"We're looking for Geo's dragonet," Psyche spread a wing to beckon them forward. "Yellow and green scales, SilkWing dragonet that looks about two years old."
"Haven't seen anyone like that, sorry."
"They have unusual horns?" Geo offered, glancing around. "Long with multiple branches, not really something you see often. We think they might have come by here."
Savannah shook her head. "Sorry, I haven't seen them. Is there anything else you want?" Her voice was polite, but there was an edge that Psyche might have just imagined. They had a hard time seeing her eyes, but she seemed... oddly nervous. Was it just because there were two SilkWings in her shop? That wasn't a common attitude in this part of the marketplace.
Better not to stay too long, either way.
"I'll take a honey drop." Psyche offered, to justify the time they've already spent in the shop. "Just one."
Savannah nodded, getting busy behind the counter. She kept on pulling the hood of her cloak back over her head as she worked, and Psyche watched her with interest. There was something going on there, but they couldn't imagine what the reason could be. They'd likely never know. They didn't mind.
Savannah deposited the honey drop, wrapped in a little bag, in Psyche's palm as they slid a scale over. "Thank you." They murmured. Savannah offered them a smile and a nod before they left. She was friendly enough.
Geo was fidgeting again as they left, nervous. "I just can't imagine where they've gone." He said, "Maybe we should just go back to where I lost them and wait there. They usually go back; it wouldn't be different this time, right?"
Psyche glanced over at them. "Maybe we can split up, then? You can go back and wait for them and I'll keep looking, and—"
"Hi, I'm Dream!" A dragonet, caked in dirt, held a sudden platter of candy up to Psyche's face. "Would you like to buy a piece? I made them myself so I know they're super good!"
They gently pushed the platter a little further from their face, regarding the dragonet. Her scales looked yellow, or maybe orange, but it was hard to tell under the layers of brown and... oh, those were scars. They could practically feel their own heart breaking. She looked so young. "If you don't mind me asking, where are your parents?"
"Oh," Dream frowned, the arms holding her platter quickly dropping. "She's very sick and the doctors need a lot of scales to make her better. So I have to go find scales so they can make her better and then everything will be okay!"
Psyche started to say something, but Geo stepped in before they could start, gently crouching down to Dream's eye level. "I'm a professor. I know a healer who might be able to help, and if you tell her that I sent you she might be able to offer a discount."
"What's a discount?" Dream tilted her head.
Geo sighed. "Here, I'll just write the information down." He produced a small notepad, scribbling something down before passing the page over to Dream. "Show this to your mother, alright? Don't lose it. She'll help you figure it out."
Dream nodded, her head bobbing rapidly. "Thank you!"
Psyche had pulled a few scales out of their pouch, and now crouched down as well to pass it over to Dream. Izula wouldn't mind, right? They could do whatever they liked with the scales they were paid. "I'd like the best you have." They grinned.
Dream's entire posture seemed to brighten, and she gave Psyche a couple of oddly shaped chocolates. "Thank you! Mom's gonna be really happy."
Psyche nodded. "I hope she feels better soon." They thought for a moment, "Do you always sell your candy around here, by the way?"
"Yep!"
"You're right next to a candy shop, so all the dragons might go there instead of going to you." They pointed a talon across the marketplace. "Maybe you could sell it closer to that end? No one really sells candy there so there'll be less competition."
Dream didn't seem to understand any of the words they said, but she nodded enthusiastically. "Okay!" She declared before bounding off.
Psyche stared after her as Geo spoke. "I hope everything turns out okay for her."
"Yeah."
They lapsed into silence, wandering onward without much purpose in their direction. Psyche didn't realize where they were unconsciously headed, until they stopped in front of the board of missing posters. Geo seemed to realize at the same time, stopping in his tracks. 
"They've just wandered off for a little bit." Psyche said, but they could feel how tentative their own voice was. They both knew how much time had passed. "We'll find them again, they can't get too far without wings."
Geo stared at the board without moving, his talons ripping furrows into the treestuff beneath him. He lurched forward suddenly, barely catching himself, his voice shaking as he spoke. "They wouldn't… this can't happen this can't I promised—" Sobs cracked through his voice.
"We'll find them." Psyche said, steeling their voice for Geo's sake and their own. They, inexplicably, envisioned pale yellow eyes, staring at them coldly. "We will find them."
==Chapter 7==
"Here." Psyche said, after another long stretch of silence. "Go back to where you initially lost Figgy, okay? Wait for them there, and I'll keep looking for them. I'll meet you there if I find them first."
Geo nodded, his posture very shaky even as he started to fly away. Psyche stared after him, before bringing their eyes back to the board of posters as they thought. There was a very simple way they could gather more information, but they still hesitated. Their gaze drifted up to the spiraling pedestal in the center of the marketplace.
The HiveWing perched on top was clad in Lady Mantis's regalia, intricate pale green designs overlaid on yellow and black scales. A sail crested their head, fading into black spines that trailed down to a tip of a carefully placed tail. Their eyes flicked over the crowd, passive behind a helmet that was more decorative than protective.
Psyche looked down before the piercing gaze could land upon them, working up their resolve as they tried to jog their memory. They knew the names of all the guards at some point, when Countess Ossarium oversaw the schedules. They stretched their wings and took off, their mind still running through what possibilities they could recall.
They landed awkwardly on the edge of the platform, trying to keep a respectful distance. The HiveWing twitched, pulling their tail a little further away.
"Excuse me," Psyche bowed their head, and in that brief moment the answer to their questions surfaced. "It's Pallida, yes?"
Golden eyes stared directly into them, and they would have stepped back, almost forgetting that a steep descent to the bottom of the marketplace was all that would greet them.
"Yes. I am."
Psyche nodded. "I'm searching for a dragonet. SilkWing, around two years old. Their father lost them in the crowd. Green and yellow scales, and they have branching horns. Have you seen them?"
Perhaps the question was too forward. Pallida blinked slowly, and Psyche suddenly realized how the HiveWing's talons clung tight to the treestuff, trying to suppress light tremors.
Pallida's voice carried none of the anxiety their body conveyed, with a tone that was matter-of-fact and almost bored. "There was one that looked like that." They pointed across the marketplace with a steady claw, towards one of the silk lattices. "Was playing on the silk. Tell their father to keep a better eye on them next time."
Psyche didn't respond right away, only realizing it was their cue to go when those yellow eyes pinned them under a passive stare once more. "Oh, of course, I will do that. Thank you."
Pallida responded with the slightest nod. "You may go now. I have a job to do."
Psyche nearly spread their wings, before remembering the tightness of the space. They opted instead to simply jump off the platform, relief rushing through when they managed to catch themself before hitting the floor of the marketplace.
They landed neatly near the silk, looking up at the lattices. Figure Eight clearly wasn't here anymore, if they were the dragonet Pallida saw, but perhaps there was a hint here, somewhere.
The lattices, much like the treestuff slopes that spiraled up the levels, were made specifically for SilkWing dragonets. Even now, a small blue dragonet climbed between the strands, clinging tight as she worked her way up. She suddenly let go, and Psyche nearly leapt forward before she caught herself on the silk and started giggling.
Right, it could also be used for play.
They briefly wished they could have had this sort of thing as a dragonet. It looked like a lot of fun, fun that they were far too old to enjoy anymore. It did make sense that Figgy would spend time here. Psyche would have too, if they could.
They were so lost in thought they didn't notice the SilkWing walking up to them. "Impressive, isn't it?"
Psyche nodded before they processed what she was saying.
"I helped design them, you know?" The SilkWing regarded them with soft green eyes, framed with blue and purple scales that seemed to glitter in the light. "Was a team effort to produce this much silk, but it did turn out well."
They nodded again, looking up at the interwoven strands. "Is it safe?"
She looked at the dragonet Psyche was watching, and chuckled. "Not if you misuse it. There are a lot of safeguards though. Hammocks and other platforms worked into it so there are things to catch dragonets if they fall. It's a bit hard to see from this angle."
"I see."
"It's Miliona, by the way," They stretched their wings, revealing patterns of green and red. "I work at the infirmary most of the time, but I do design and work on these sorts of silk projects a lot. I'm glad at least someone appreciates them."
"It doesn't usually garner the kind of attention that tapestries do," Psyche agreed. "It's still impressive, though," They paused. "Where does this lattice lead up to?"
"Oh, all the way up to the Aerie!" She laughed, "So many HiveWings were upset about it. Complained about SilkWing dragonets showing up in their gardens for moons." 
They knew where to check next.
"Oh, thank you! I should be going, but it was a pleasure to meet you." Psyche started, "I never did introduce myself, did I? It's Psyche."
Miliona smiled. "It was nice to meet you too, Psyche."
The trip up the Aerie was short, and they found themself in a stone clearing, light from the high windows of the Hives nourishing blossoming beds of plants. A gray HiveWing, flecked with gold and red, was huddled at the far end, crouched over paints before a half finished mural.
"It's looking lovely so far." Psyche commented.
She jumped at their voice. "Thanks," she said, before looking up. Something in her face shifted. "Who are you?"
"I'm Psyche."
"Well, Psyche. I'm Widow. Thanks for the compliment. Do you need something?"
"No, I just thought—" They took a breath. "Your mural does look wonderful. However, I would like to know if you saw a SilkWing dragonet here earlier? They're green and—"
"No one's bothered me all morning except you."
"Are you sure?"
"Look, I don't have all day to chat with you. I didn't see a dragonet, you'll have to look elsewhere." She swirled a paintbrush between her claws, looking up at Psyche as if daring them to keep pressing.
They quickly backed away. "I see. Thank you anyway, Widow."
The HiveWing had already turned her back to them.
They returned back to the marketplace with a sigh. Where else could Figgy have gone?
As if Clearsight herself had decided to bless them, the answer provided itself in the form of a panicking HiveWing as they rounded a corner. His eyes immediately landed upon them. "There's a monster in my shop!" He cried out. "SilkWing! You have to help me!"
Psyche stepped into his shop to survey the scene, only to see a crate of figs bubbling with movement. A moment later, a pair of long branches emerged from the crate before disappearing again. They looked a little like... horns.
Psyche reached into the figs, their talons closing around something wriggling and alive before they pulled out Figgy, face wet with juices and figs clasped tight in their talons.
"Hi!" They loudly declared at the dumbfounded HiveWing.
Psyche looked between him and the crate. "I guess I'll pay...? For the damage?"
They left the shop with a small collection of half eaten figs, Figgy still patiently working through them by their side. "Now, Figgy, don't ever run away from Geo again, okay? He was really worried about you."
"I got fig." 
"I suppose you did." They laughed.
A SilkWing near the shop looked over at the two of them. "No, don't tell me you bought from him. Please, Psyche, you're better than this."
Psyche looked up at the turquoise dragon, her once brilliant purple wings now muted with age. Recognition immediately sparked in their eyes. "Camberwell! I haven't seen you in so long!"
Psyche dropped their bag and rushed over. She immediately wrapped them in a warm hug, and Psyche gladly reciprocated. "How have you been, Camberwell?"
"I was better when I didn't know you shopped there." She snorted, but there was a twinkle in her eye.
"Do you have better advice then?" Psyche grinned. "You've only led me astray once."
She laughed. "That's only because you didn't listen to the part about shaking the fruit! There are far better figs all over this marketplace. Far better food, too. Here, let me find a piece of paper, I can put together a quick list for you..."
By the time they finished, Psyche had a sheet of paper full of names, half of them stories they recognized and half they had never heard of. They never knew where Camberwell managed to find these sorts of places. She knew her way around far better than they did, despite the number of years they had spent here.
They suddenly remembered the dragonet they had been tasked with finding. 
Figgy was still seated exactly where they had been left, still snacking on the last of figs. Psyche crouched down, disentangling them from the bag. It looked like Figgy managed to find the honey drop. "Are you ready to go find your dad?"
"Yes! I'm gonna catch him first!"
"I believe you." They laughed.
The trek down to the ground level of the marketplace was a long one, but Psyche made sure to keep a careful eye on Figgy as they pranced along. They still had little specks of fig splattered on their scales that they refused to let Psyche clean.
Geo spotted them before Psyche did, and seemed to appear from nowhere to sweep Figgy up into his arms. "Oh Figure Eight my sweet little kid please never do that again. You gave your father such a scare!" He hugged them close, even as bits of fruit transferred onto the fluff along his shoulders.
He looked up at Psyche halfway through the hug to mouth a silent thank you, and they gave him a reassuring smile in response before turning to leave. They felt unusually accomplished, as if their search for Figgy had been some heroic journey that they had completed against all odds.
They glanced down at the list Camberwell had left them. There were so many names here, the various things the stories sold scrawled in even smaller text. They squinted at it. Izula had wanted food, right?
Psyche stopped in their tracks. They looked down at their bag with a dawning, awkward realization. Despite the internal clock that all SilkWings had, they had lost track of time. They'd spent three hours in the marketplace, and had pitiful little to show for it. They paused in their tracks, considering. They should get more supplies before heading back, but they didn't want to concern Izula again.
Their thoughts were cut through when wings of dark gray, striped with an all too familiar green, swooped down to bring the most pretentious SilkWing Mantis Hive had to offer before Psyche.
"Daedalus." They said, tilting their head respectfully even as they gritted their teeth.
He didn't seem up for pleasantries this time, bringing his face close to theirs until they could smell the rotted fruit on his breath. His eyes flashed with an anger they had only seen once before.
They could feel their stomach dropping before he even uttered the words, a polite question dripping with venom.
"Where is my son?" 
==Chapter 8==
Psyche stepped back, instinctively, as they took in a slow breath. Calm. When they spoke, their voice was even, masking the trembling anxiety that was starting to build. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since—"
"Where is he!?" Daedalus snapped, all pretense of decorum immediately lost, "I know he's run off again, that good for nothing worm. Tell me where he is."
"I don't know," Psyche repeated, their voice firmer. "I have not seen him since the morning of his break yesterday."
"He didn't come back last night. We have a quota to meet, and he didn't show. We need him back here, now, or we'll lose everything we worked for in this sick place. You will tell me where he is." Daedalus raised a talon and clenched it shut in the air, the scales under his wrist pulsing with a glowing light.
Another deep breath. Psyche could feel the buzz of crowds stilling around them. It was all blurring around them, their eyes only able to focus on the cold green gaze before them. "I don't know, Daedalus. I can't help you."
"Then find him!" He pounced forward, and Psyche nearly stumbled on their step back. "I'm not letting this happen again. He has a duty to fulfill and you will not separate him from that again. Find him, or I will see that you receive proper consequences."
"For what?" The words came out without thinking, and Psyche laughed dryly. "For losing your son? Your adult son that you no longer have guardianship over, that you still force into a life he hates? You spend all this time lounging in riches you cannot spend, appealing to HiveWings that don't care for you beyond your silk, beyond the ability you gained through luck."
Daedalus was about to speak, but Psyche plunged forth, their voice growing louder, fueled by an anger they had long forgotten was brewing. "You don't care for him beyond the fact that he's an asset. I don't know where he is, but if he ran away again, I'm not helping you find him. He deserves a better life, and he doesn't need to include you in it."
"You—" Daedalus sputtered, his tail lashing. "You insolent little worm. You deserve the life you have, groveling in the dirt. I worked to be where I am, and you— why, you ran away from your problems again and again, didn't you?"
Their own tiny claws clinging tight to the webbing, holding on even as they shivered in the night. Only a little further, only a little further and they could leave it all behind. Just one more step...
Psyche wished, for a brief moment, that they had the strength and the will to claw the sneer off his snout, to let the bubbling rage in their stomach boil over. Oh they needed to calm down. 
Deep breaths.
"I will not help you."
"Because you're helping him again." Daedalus hissed. "I can tell. Tell him he needs to get himself back inside my house by tomorrow or I will ensure—"
"Why, pray tell, is a SilkWing trying to threaten my servant?" A voice, familiar but unplaceable, interrupted. Pale yellow scales, spotted with black, slid into Psyche's vision. What was a HiveWing doing in the lower levels of the marketplace? "What standing could you possibly have, to think you have the right to go about harassing dragons on the street?"
Daedalus' face shifted between too many expressions for Psyche to catch, but his next words were plastered with pleasantries. "Step aside, sir. This is a personal matter."
"It appears I would like my servant to return with me to my residence now. We have many matters to discuss." The Hivewing scoffed. They knew that voice, and it itched at the back of their head.
"I am a flamesilk." Daedalus growled. "I have the right. Let me finish speaking to them."
"Oh, a flamesilk!" The HiveWing gasped, pressing a talon to his mouth in mocking surprise. "Oh, how could I disrespect someone of such a high standing?" Daedalus was starting to smirk, and Psyche forced themself to focus on their own breathing. "Unless..." There was a smile on Hyaliodes' voice. "Say, I bet I know who you are. Daedalus, is it?"
An imperceptible nod.
"Hm, I seem to recall that you're not off duty until tomorrow." Black edged claws tapped against the treestuff, and Psyche could practically feel the smugness radiating off him. "Would be a shame if the queen heard her flamesilks were misbehaving, wouldn't it? She truly hates having to accommodate them so much; I'm sure she would adore a reason to stop spending the Hives' funds on SilkWings friviolites." He stepped forward, and Daedalus instinctively retreated. "Why don't you scurry back along to your fancy little home, before Queen Wasp hears about this little incident?"
Daedalus glared for a long moment, his eyes flicking towards Psyche as he spread his wings. "This doesn't end here," He spat. With a flap of his wings, he was gone.
The HiveWing spread his four wings, emitting a low buzz as he fanned the air. "Now shoo, the rest of you. You've had your show."
The SilkWings around them started to disperse, and he finally turned his attention back to Psyche. They blinked, suddenly feeling much more aware of all the eyes that were on them a moment prior.
"You doing alright?" He asked. They finally got a good look at him, and recognition finally sparked. Hyaliodes, the one who... tranquilized them in the middle of a marketplace.
Realizing he was asking something. They still felt a little dazed, their heart jumpy with anxiety. They ended up nodding, and he immediately continued to talk. "Wow, I haven't talked like that in years. Always happy to help out someone in need though!"
"You really didn't need to interrupt there, I had it—"
"Anyway!" Hyaliodes continued, as if he didn't hear them. "Izula kind of interrupted our last talk so would you be willing to finish our conversation now? Return the favor since I saved you from that guy and everything?"
Psyche found themself frowning. "I really didn't need your help," but Palamedes is missing. They sighed. "But sure, we can finish talking."
He jumped an impressive distance in the air. "Yes! See Sphex, I still got it." He continued talking to the air for a few minutes before suddenly stopping. He blinked a couple of times before looking at Psyche. "Well, let's go back to my place?"
They shrugged.
He strutted ahead, leaning his head back to suck in a dramatic breath of air. "Those flamesilks, huh? So full of themselves all the time. They think they're so amazing all the time. Ha! They just got lucky that the queen cares about their silk so much. I bet we could find a better light source in a year if she actually funded that research. I mean, someone needs to put them in their place."
Psyche's claws dug into the ground. The treestuff was stiffer and stronger here, and their marks were left frustratingly shallow. 
He turned around, studying them as he walked backwards, until he stumbled over another dragon and sheepishly turned back around. "Really takes a long time to figure out how to talk to them. The trick is to realize that even though they live in the same place as the nobles they really don't have that much control. Did you see how quickly I chased him off? That was pretty awesome."
"Did you have to call me your servant as a part of that?"
"Yeah," Hyaliodes said immediately, but then stopped for a long moment before continuing. "Makes it more personal, y'know? If he thinks I have a personal stake in getting you out of there he's more likely to listen. Like, Izula? Everyone knows Izula for being a celebrity and being nice to everyone." He laughed. "They like her so much, when she doesn't even know their names. I don't get it."
Maybe it was because she was nice to them. Psyche didn't bother saying that.
"Say, what was that guy saying?" Hyaliodes said suddenly. "Something about his son?"
"Yeah, Palamedes." Psyche shrugged. "Daedalus thinks he ran off again."
Hyaliodes was suddenly way too close to their face, his eyes bright. "Oh! Do you know if he did? Or where he went? If you know who was helping him too, that would be awesome!"
Psyche took a step back, careful not to touch him. "I don't know anything. He didn't mention any plans when I last saw him."
"Hm... right. Were you two close?"
"... Childhood friends, yes."
"Ah, guess not, if he wouldn't tell you." Hyaliodes chuckled, as if it was a joke. "I mean, that's a huge thing! That's a violation of law that would get you put in front of the queen. You'd want all the help you can get to get away." He frowned. "Right, that makes sense honestly. Most SilkWings are law abiding citizens, of course you would have reported it."
"I don't think he ran away." He wouldn't. Not without telling them at least, right?
Hyaliodes glanced at them. "That is true. You know, as detectives, you've got to think about every possibility. Seems like you got a smart head on your shoulders. That's special."
They arrived at the door, and Hyaliodes leaned against the frame instead of opening the door. "Can you do me a favor and tell Sphex you didn't mind the whole tranquilizing thing? Xe was so mad at me for so long," he shuddered. "You just were not paying attention to me. I've never been ignored that hard before and I didn't really know how else to get your attention, you know? Sphex is still upset about it but I think it was fair and, I mean, you turned out fine right?"
They could barely remember that day, but maybe they did just confuse his voice with the background noise. "Yeah, I think I'm fine."
"Awesome!" Hyaliodes cheered. "We can finish talking about Izula and her weird house, then."
"Actually, I wanted to ask." Psyche said, taking a breath to calm their nerves. "Do you have ah... any other leads? Who else might be behind all the different disappearances?"
That question gave him pause. "We were thinking about the flamesilks, honestly, but now one of them's missing and they're mad at you about it. So, it's probably not them." He shrugged, "Sphex is more knowledgeable about everything. Xe always wants to do the talking, because xe's better at negotiating or whatever. Xe's right, I've seen xem in action and it's pretty crazy too see what xe can do. Even though I'm pretty awesome too."
They sighed. "To be clear, your main suspect is Izula?"
Hyaliodes nodded. "Oh, she definitely hates us. Scared we'll find out her secret. I bet she's worried we'll be more popular than her, when we figure out what she's up to." A pause. "Unless it's not her and she just hates us for some reason. We always have to keep the possibilities in mind! We're pretty sure it's her, though. Sphex understands it more than I do, xe's just that clever." He sighed wistfully, a faraway smile slipping onto his face for a moment. He looked back at the door. "Well, speaking of which, we've made xem wait long enough. Let's go solve this mystery!"
Psyche grabbed onto his wrist before he could open it, surprised by their own forwardness. "Wait." They carefully measured out their own breathing. "You'll need to start looking at other suspects."
"What does that mean?" He frowned, his eyes darkened with a distaste that left them unsurprised. He tugged his wrist away from them.
"I know Izula's not responsible for the missing SilkWings."
==Chapter 9==
The door flung open with a suddenness that made Hyaliodes pitch backward, nearly falling into Sphex as he caught himself on the frame. Xe's eyes immediately fixed upon Psyche. "What? She's our biggest lead I— we know she's behind this."
Hyaliodes righted himself, grinning. "Oh hey, Sphex! Well, uh, how much did you hear?"
Sphex eyed him suspiciously, "Is there something you didn't want me to hear?"
"Haha, no! Not at all. I would never." Xe stared at him until he awkwardly looked away, eyes landing on Psyche. "So, Psyche, please, please, come inside. We have so much to talk about!" 
He ushered them inside, Sphex's eyes still fixed on him. They could see the slightest quirk of amusement in xyr gaze, and found themself smiling as they slipped into the house for a second time.
It was a lot more orderly than the rounded corners of Izula's home, walls set in hexagonal angles, identical to every other home on these levels of the Hive. Sphex muttered something to Hyaliodes about tea before pulling Psyche into a small alcove sectioned off from the main room. They froze in the doorframe, unsure if they were in awe of the sight or deeply afraid.
The walls were covered with various papers, pinned into the treestuff. Dyed silk stretched between different points, little notes attached to the length. The dimming flamesilk lamp cast everything in brown shadows.
"All of the missing SilkWings," Sphex said, pointing to a long scroll covered with colored sketches and messy annotations. "Spans back seven years, twenty-nine total disappearances. Izula has lived in this Hive for all nineteen years of her life, meaning she would have been twelve when they first started. She was already well regarded at this point in time."
Psyche nodded, but Sphex didn't seem to notice, the words spilling out of them as they pointed to various spots on the wall. "We've asked Lady Mantis for the records of those living in the Hives, but she rejected... all of our appeals, so we've just taken to asking dragons. With the flamesilk negotiations five years ago, a lot of dragons transferred to different Hives so there's not too many that have lived here that long.
"Now, all of these dragons have completely disappeared, mind you. No trace of a body and they often leave all their belongings behind. Fifteen were servants of various nobles in the Aerie, four dragonets, one elderly storeowner, and eight were fairly average citizens." Xe paused for a moment, as if trying to say the next part delicately. "There was also one that served Izula. We stopped seeing him around four years ago, although nothing was reported. We counted him among the missing."
"Izula has another servant that went missing too," Psyche said, "She just mentioned them, said that she didn't realize reporting disappearances were an option."
Sphex nodded, frowning, "She should know that by now. Lady Mantis doesn't care much but the nobles did make a big enough fuss to get that missing board put up." They snapped their claws together. "Anyway, Izula can travel a lot. She often goes on vacations, as she calls them, at least four or five times a year. Who knows what she gets up to, away from the Hive? She's well known for being sympathetic towards the causes of SilkWing rebellions as a dragonet— she wrote articles about it! Of course she's walked back that position over the past several years but that doesn't mean she's changed. She doesn't let us check her house, either, and won't even let us in, after we tried to get into the basement the first time. Why would anyone do that, if they didn't have something to hide?"
The amount of information xe knew unnerved them, but they needed to know. "What do you think she's doing with them?"
"Hyaliodes is convinced she's moving them out of the Hive." Sphex said, "Like the ringleader of that strike six years back? Went missing before they could even be detained. We think they escaped the Hive while they still could."
"Were any of these other dragons similarly... rebellious?"
"No," Sphex sighed, "And I don't trust that whatever she's doing is good. I care about what's happening! There's a chance that she's putting the SilkWings in danger! Even if they are willingly leaving the Hive, that's still against— oh, so many laws. However, we do know that SilkWings that want to leave exist, so it does seem to be the most likely possibility. Perhaps they're operating on some sort of hidden network that Izula is a part of?"
Psyche suddenly found Sphex clinging to their shoulders, shaking them as if it would clatter the words into their brain as xe intended. "If we find that, if we discover what's going on, it would mean everything. We need to figure out what's going on."
"Do you have any other suspects?" They asked, lightly, waiting for xe to release them from xyr hold.
Sphex did so immediately, whirling around to stare back at the wall. "No... barely. I suppose there's one." Xyr claws landed on a sketch of a HiveWing, decorated with jewels and orange yellow scales. "Syrphid. Doesn't let us check her home either, she's been seen speaking to SilkWing all the time— Hyaliodes thinks they're plotting something, but..."
Psyche waited for them to continue.
Hyaliodes appeared in the room, placing down the platter of tea on the table in the center. He took a glance at Sphex and immediately started speaking, as if he could read xyr thoughts from xyr hesitance. "You should tell them about our big break, you know? No point in hiding it, even if you don't think it's true." He took a long sip, bumping xyr shoulder affectionately.
Sphex nodded quickly, pulling on a smile. "Syrphid told us that she had stumbled upon dragons meeting at night, when she was going on a midnight trip through the marketplace, and that they were planning an escape. She recognized one of the voices as a servant of one of the nobles in the Aerie."
Hyaliodes offered xem tea, before taking over the story. "Anyway, she led us to where the escape was going to take place, and caught this SilkWing trying to sneak out of the Hive. He avoided the checkpoints,but not us! Obviously, we gave him a through interrogation."
"He said he didn't know who helped him," Sphex murmured. "Just that he sent out a coded message for help, and someone answered. The appearance he mentioned— dark scales, pale yellow dots— matches Izula. It only matches Izula."
"And her dad!" Hyaliodes added with a laugh, "But no, the SilkWing said their voice was 'distinctly feminine,' so it's just Izula! We solved this a year ago but we just can't prove it, since the SilkWing just up and left afterwards and we couldn't get him to testify."
"Couldn't even find him to follow up on it." Sphex said. "Transferred out to Yellowjacket Hive, apparently. It's a very convincing story, but it just feels too good to be true, you know? Syrphid just happened to hear of it the night before, didn't report it, and then brought us to someone that directly implicated Izula. It feels too convenient."
"We put in the work to solve the mystery and we're nearly there," Hyaliodes said, his voice suddenly gentle. "Of course you're doubting after a year of no progress. We just need to keep going."
"You're right. Thanks," Sphex started, before xe froze, xyr eyes quickly snapping to meet Psyche's. "Wait. You said you knew she wasn't responsible. How?"
They took a deep breath, attempting to still their heart as it hammered in their chest. They were right, they guessed correctly from their walk with Hyaliodes. The two of them believed that Izula was aiding SilkWing escapes— and Psyche believed it, too. 
You find friends in unexpected places, sometimes. Riodinidae had told them that, an eon ago.
They needed to protect Izula, protect the lifeline for an uncountably many SilkWings. Even if Izula didn't view them as equals. Even if the fact she never shared this stung their heart with an odd pain. She wasn't a perfect ally, but being one at all was rare enough and Psyche had to trust her. They had to protect that secret.
"She's let me into the basement," they started. "There's nothing special in there. Just materials for tiles and dyes. We have a skylight in the mural room, but it's not big enough for a dragon to fit through. She's not hiding an escape hatch in her basement. She just values her own privacy and likes keeping her art techniques to herself."
"She let you in?" Sphex asked.
"She trusts me," Psyche said firmly, as if to convince themself. "She's been very open and honest with me. I am a SilkWing, I do think she would tell me if she was helping SilkWings escape this Hive."
"This... this changes everything." Sphex started past Psyche, unfocused. "Was Syrphid lying, then? Maybe the SilkWing saw someone else—"
Hyaliodes brushed his wings against xyrs, comfortingly. "It's alright, dear. We know this is a dead end now, so we can focus on everything else. We're close to figuring out where the SilkWings have to go, right? There's only a few places left on the continent they can be. We're still making progress."
Sphex gave a mumbled response, muffled by xyr talons.
Hyaliodes looked up, "Please have some tea, Psyche." He paused, "Unless you want to leave, we're also okay with that. Unless you have any other information?"
They shook their head, forcing a smile onto their face. "I should be going, then. I don't have anything on Syrphid or other suspects, if that's what you're asking. Good luck with your investigations."
"Thanks."
Psyche left the house, slipping out the door and allowing themself to catch their breath. It felt as if they were shivering, despite the warm air, and their lungs squeezed harshly for air. All they did was lie, so why did it feel like they were dying?
The echoes of Daedalus's words repeated in their ears. They didn't run away from this problem. They faced it, they lied, and now the two would leave them alone, or so they hoped. Yet it still felt wrong. Something felt mismatched, a loose end that didn't tie up in the narrative that they had started to form. 
"Psyche!" They looked up to see Izula barreling towards them, barely skidding to a halt from her flight before wrapping them in her wings. "Did they try to kidnap you again? I'll show them—"
"No, it's okay." Psyche said, gently pushing her off of them. "They just wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday." Izula made a face, and they hurriedly added. "They also showed me around! House tour, how these homes were built and everything. Wasted a bit more time than we wanted to."
It was a silly lie, one that they weren't even sure why they concocted. It felt like an easier explanation than chasing a dragonet across the Hive for hours.
"Since when did you have an interest in architecture?"
"You've only known me for a moon," Psyche laughed, "I have so many secret interests you haven't even heard about!"
"Well, you simply have to tell me now!"
"Why?"
"Because we're friends, Psyche. Friends tell each other everything!"
The words hit them with a spark of surprise and a gush of nostalgia for a memory they couldn't yet parse, tinged with sorrow that twisted into something unreadable in their heart. They found themself giggling, and leaned into the sound, pushing away the turmoil of emotions. "Let's just get home, Izula."
Her eyes lit up, "Yes! Fantastic idea. Don't go running off again, now!"
They smiled some more, smoothing out their thoughts and chasing away half baked memories. Friends. Yeah, that sounded good.
==Chapter 10==
The next several days passed with an unusual calm. Psyche cleaned the home and chased out crickets, listening to Izula hum as she worked on the mosaic. No one stopped by. Both Sphex and Hyaliodes seemed like they had abandoned their investigation, at least for now.
Psyche appreciated the quiet after the hectic two days, but it also set them on edge in an unexpected way. They were back into the routine of their first month, but the doubt they hadn't quite managed to crush swirling and stewing in the back of their mind. They could see Daedalus snarling at them when they tried to sleep.
It was a cobweb in the corner that always returned no matter how much they brushed it away. He... ran away. Without them, without at least telling them. Perhaps he was right to do that, after last time, but it still hurt, an emptiness in their chest that felt like it could cave in at any moment.
Izula... she had to have helped him, right? Sphex and Hyaliodes had all the evidence that she was at least involved. Yet she didn't bring it up at all, smiling at them blankly whenever they tried to broach the topic of Palamedes. She barely even seemed to recognize his name. Why didn't he trust them? Why didn't she trust them?
They clung onto the hope that he didn't abandon them, but at the same time it was a stressful thought. If he didn't run away, then where could he be? Other possibilities often occurred to them, but they were afraid to give a voice to the more pessimistic thoughts.
They just needed to wait. He'd show up soon. He'd be up there in his garden in the Aerie, like he always was.
They woke up one bright morning, where even the air seemed alive, and they immediately recognized why nervous excitement was buzzing under their scales. It was Palamedes's day off. If he had returned, he should be out in the garden by midmorning. They could confirm he was safe and all was well.
If he wasn't... they didn't dwell on that possibility too well. They hoped, briefly, that the savannah wasn't treating him too cruelly.
They wandered down to the kitchen, to find Izula just about to place down breakfast. She had made herself some sort of unidentified meat glazed in honey, while she had prepared an assortment of root vegetables in a similar fashion. There was also a little plate of slightly bruised figs. They briefly wondered how she had managed to become such a good cook, while they still struggled so intensely despite wanting to be self-sufficient.
It was because Rio always did it for them, and they had refused every offer to learn. Another small regret to tuck amongst many others.
She welcomed them to breakfast gladly, and they enjoyed the meal. They barely paid attention to the small talk she was making, their mind always swirling back to Palamedes. After a while, she took notice.
"Are you all right, Psyche?" She asked, "You seem a little distracted today."
They shrugged and gave her a weak smile, "Oh, I'm okay! I've just been thinking about— well— we're running a little low on food right? I was just thinking that I should probably stop by the market soon— and since the rug in the mosaic room is getting worn out, it could be a good chance to get a replacement."
She nodded thoughtfully, "That's true. We did only get figs on the last market trip." She giggled as their face flushed.
"I got a little sidetracked," They admitted. "I'll make sure I don't miss anything this time, though! I've been thinking of looking through the SilkWing vendors for a new rug, honestly. They tend to be higher quality and lower prices." Perhaps they could afford a new tapestry as well? They really did feel bad about Figgy knocking over Checkerspot's shop.
"Oh!" Izula said, as if she just realized something, "Would you mind showing me around? I don't visit the lower layer of the marketplace nearly enough, I sometimes forget it's even there."
"Weren't you planning on working on the mosaic today?"
"Even artists deserve a break sometimes, Psyche, give me a tour! Seriously, I don't think I've visited it more than a couple times and I've lived here for my entire life." She grinned.
Psyche tried to suppress their apprehension. "Okay."
They took a short flight over the Aerie, awkwardly explaining it as a way to stretch their wings and exercise before getting into the crowds of the marketplace. It was an awkward lie, one they weren't even sure why they needed to tell, but by the time they thought that though it was already too late.
Izula seemed amused as they tried their best not to act tired, but it was hard to multitask. Palamedes wasn't there. He was truly gone, wasn't he?
They already felt exhausted, physically and mentally, but they pressed on. They let Izula do most of the talking as they navigated through the marketplace off of muscle memory, trying to think. Was there a way to track him down?
They showed her around the SilkWing marketplace and tried to ignore the way her snout crinkled in a polite display of disgust.
HiveWing authorities were out of the question. Daedalus was too, any brief thought of confronting him squashed by the tremble that quickly manifested in their talons, something that even Izula noticed. Who else was there to ask? They couldn't just go running around asking everyone they came across about him.
Syrphid. The HiveWing Sphex had mentioned, or perhaps the SilkWing she had allegedly spied upon. If they could track her down, they could—
Psyche's thoughts stuttered to a stop, realizing that Izula was still with them. "Oh, are you not going back? We've been through the entire lower level and I can wrap up the rest of the errands on my own."
Izula shook her head, "Like I said, I'm taking a break! I'm kind of curious what you get up to out here, so many exciting things happen when I'm not around." She was smiling, but there was a noticeable edge to her voice.
"I can handle myself," Psyche said.
"I think I'll stay right here."
They stared at her for a moment, before looking away. It didn't seem like she would budge on that.
As they continued, transitioning from active purchasing to more passive browsing, Izula spoke again. "You do seem very out of it today, Psyche, everything alright?"
This time, they gave themself the chance to think before throwing out a directionless lie. "I'm just... worried, I guess."
"About what?"
"Palamedes."
Izula was silent, as if beckoning for them to continue. 
"I haven't seen him anywhere since last week, and his father said he had gone missing." They started to continue walking, before looking back to see Izula frozen in her tracks, her expression undecipherable. 
She blinked rapidly before focusing back on Psyche, and her face stretched into a gentle smile, "I'm sure you don't need to be too concerned. He did say he wasn't on the best terms with his father. Perhaps he is simply not allowed out today? To catch up on flamesilk production, or whatever it is. I'm not familiar with the specifics."
They started to nod, "That makes sense." There was something wrong, something that made apprehension crawl under their scales, but they couldn't parse the reason and brushed the thoughts aside.
"See? No need to worry. I'm sure everything's okay."
"I do—" They paused, "Well, I do want to check. You could bring all of our stuff back, while I ask about Palamedes?"
Her expression flickered. "I'd rather stick with you, honestly. You've gotten yourself in trouble twice the last couple times you went out, Psyche. I just want to make sure nothing happens to you!"
"I only got kidnapped once," They felt silly as soon as they said that.
Izula snorted, a surprisingly loud noise, "I've lived in this Hive nineteen years and I haven't been kidnapped at all. Then you go straight back to the kidnappers the next day? I just want you to be safe. Is that too hard to understand?"
"Sphex and Hyaliodes aren't bad dragons, Izula. They just... had a lapse in judgment— and I'm stopping by Daedalus's house, it'll only take a few minutes."
"You've talked to them, what, twice? I've known them for a decade." She sighed, "Listen, Psyche. You've gotten yourself into trouble going out alone in the marketplace already, okay? I don't want to risk it."
"Izula," Psyche started, "I want to talk to Daedalus alone. Palamedes is my friend, and as much as I like having you around that's something I want to do alone."
"Then don't go," Izula's voice was surprisingly sharp, and she quickly quieted down, her voice growing gentle. "I'm sure you've heard about the missing SilkWings, Psyche. They all disappear like this, going out alone and vanishing. I don't want to lose you. You can't blame me for that, right?"
They couldn't meet her gaze.
"He's a flamesilk," Izula pointed out. "He could fend for himself. I'm sure nothing bad happened to him. He had a lot of issues, but he was strong. Try not to stress out too much about him, okay?"
Psyche nodded, finally. "Okay."
She smiled again. "We should probably head back then, yes?" She was already tugging along before they could form a response.
They could swear they kept seeing sky blue scales as they followed her, none of them belonging to the dragon that they wanted to see. They barely registered they had arrived back on their doorstep when a question worked its way out.
"Palamedes told you about Daedalus— his dad— right?"
Izula looked down at them, surprised, before nodding. "Yes, is there something wrong?"
They shook their head, "He's just usually not very open with that kind of information."
She shrugged, "We had a long talk." Before they could continue pressing, she opened the door. "Can you put everything away?" They nodded instinctively before she vanished into the home, leaving Psyche to sort through everything they had bought. They shelved everything away in the kitchen, put away the bag, and brought the new rug to the mosaic room.
As they rolled up the old rug, they looked up at the mosaic. It seemed almost larger than life, nearly complete. Under the light of the sun it glimmered as bright as the sky itself, the dark blues and greens of the water clearly highlighted. The colors danced in their eyes, and they found themself inexplicably thinking of Palamedes again.
Shaking the thoughts away, they threw out the rug and started to clean. Izula had started to make lunch by now, and the fragrances made their stomach growl.
They swept near the door to the basement last. Dark splatters of different dyes often appeared there, and were nearly impossible to get out. Izula shrugged when they brought it up the first time. She was fine with the little specks of ink staining the hall, but Psyche scrubbed away at them anyway.
They glanced up at the door, heavyset and always closed. I know Izula's not responsible for the missing SilkWings. They had said those words themself, bright in the conviction, or maybe just the hope, that she was doing the right thing. She talked to Palamedes, and she helped him escape. She had just... lied to Psyche about it. She was just being safe. She was just protecting that truth, even though they lived with her and Palamedes was their best friend.
They could come up with justification after justification, reasons why Izula acted like this, why Palamedes would leave without telling them why. Yet, despite everything they could come up with, the desperate need to know was growing. They needed to know what exactly was behind that door.
Just in case.
==Chapter 11==
It was easy enough to get Izula to leave the house. She had always done the trips for mosaic supplies alone, returning with a bag full of items she didn't give Psyche the chance to see. They brought it up a couple times, disguised as a newfound curiosity that still got them a few curious looks from her.
She had to be running out of supplies though, right? She usually needed to go out every three weeks, and wasn't the last time three weeks ago?
It was only two and a half, and they stopped pressing. All they needed to do was wait an agonizing few days until she was gone.
It was a clear morning, one empty and hollow in its vagueness. It felt like a world that had yet to decide if it wanted to rain, or if it was a day better treated with bright sunshine.
Izula left them a small breakfast and a note, and they found themself almost cheering at the victory of patience.
The home was always oddly empty without her, and they found themself cleaning to fill up the space even as their mind buzzed. They'd have enough time, they assured themself, and it was better not to arouse suspicion.
Izula likely kept the keys up in her room, a place they had scarcely gone. They would simply sweep the floors and scurry off, not wanting to invade her space too much despite living with her.
The room was messy, dustier than most, a cobweb strung across a corner Psyche failed to check. Furniture was covered with various pieces of paper, doodles of mosaics yet to be constructed. The sheet they glanced at had little watercolored thumbnail drawings, a fish dancing in the ripples of a sunset colored pond.
They tried not to disturb too much as they began their silent search, digging through draws with a care to note where things were previously placed. Dust kicked up and settled on surfaces they had never cleaned, and they briefly wondered how Izula could sleep in these conditions. Why didn't she bother to remind them to be more thorough with this room?
Their search came up empty.
Psyche returned to the main area with a breath of disappointment, before turning towards the next suspect. The kitchen, a place that Izula mostly handled.
As soon as they got there, the thought seemed silly. They spent a lot of time here even though they didn't cook, having to scrub out the oil stains she was far too comfortable leaving. Yet she checked around anyway, even in the ice box lined with seal blubber. The smell had always bothered them, and sifting through the ice irritated their talons.
Psyche didn't spend long rifling about before deciding their time was better spent elsewhere.
It was already nearly midday when they turned their attention towards the mosaic room. She said she kept dyes in the basement, so of course it was related to a mosaic. They felt like a young dragonet learning how to do word association.
Yet they entered the room anyway. The mosaic itself was almost complete, the dragonfly above the lilypads that Izula had started so long ago. The murk of the water truly glimmered, the sky the same shade as Palamedes' scales. They shook the reminiscing from their head.
All they found were the typical bowls of tiles, scattered around the shells. A small spider scurried away from one when they stirred up the contents with a claw. They glanced around the room after they finished the search, when their eyes landed on the skylight.
Could it...?
They flew up, careful to hover in the air as they heaved it open and checked around the rim. There was a little nook here, and they stuck their claws in a moment of excitement, only to be met by the familiar sensation of a spider's web.
They almost laughed. Why would Izula hide a key up here?
Why…
Why hide a key at all?
They found their way back to the main room in a moment, to the bowl of keys that sat by the door. Izula had taken the ones Psyche usually brought with them, leaving behind the larger ring of them. There were plenty of keys strung together, of various colors. Psyche recognized a couple— the bronze one for the front door, the thin key that opened the skylight, the silvery one that led to her room. They had barely paid attention to the keys, since Izula left most of the rooms unlocked. 
Yet, that still left two more, each pressed in bronze and so similar they seemed like part of a set. Psyche picked up the entire ring before returning to the metal door.
The first one almost seemed like it fit, before it abruptly got stuck and Psyche had to yank it out. It left a fine scratch on the surface, one that they prayed to Clearsight wouldn't be noticed. They tried the second.
It entered the lock smoothly and turned with a small click. They giggled, an unexpected burst of sound that surprised themself. The simplicity of it all was almost silly, the key in a spot they certainly didn't have to spend hours looking for.
The door opened to a narrow stairwell, disappearing into darkness like they were about to descend into the maw of a great beast. After a brief thought, they picked up the lamp in the corridor before stepping down, allowing the warm orange light to spill down the steps ahead of them.
It had to be an ancient part of the house, they realized. The treestuff had softened in some spots, spongy under their talons. It was a familiar sensation, one that permeated the forgotten tunnels in Bloodworm Hive. They shuddered at the memory, but pressed on.
The walk could have been short, but it felt like it stretched on indeterminably, with a silence that only amplified the quiet thump of their own heart. It was almost peaceful, foraging into the darkness, guided only by the tireless pull of curiosity. It was an odd compulsion, they reflected. They liked Izula, they liked working for her. They were comfortable in this place. They just truly, truly hated the unknown that the basement presented. The unease wouldn't go away until they knew for certain what was down there.
She would just have to forgive them for breaching that boundary, if she ever found out. They hoped she wouldn't mind.
Eventually, their claws touched on flat ground, and the spiraling stairs opened into a room filled with lamps. The silk was dead or dying, leaving parts of the room in shadow. There were piles upon piles of tiles, some still white and unpolished. There were cauldrons as well, their insides caked with the residual of countless dyes. Layered bowls of completed tiles. A checklist pinned to the wall. A screen stood near the back of the room, hiding half of it from view. Various fruits strung up on the walls, a small collection of snail shells, a rotten smell that seemed to permeate it all.
They almost laughed— they did laugh, a small bubble of mirth they didn't expect escaped them. The room was exactly what she always said it was, a place for her to prepare dyes in secret.
They could have left then, they might have, if the scent didn't itch at their nose. It wasn't the acrid, artificial smell of the dyes they knew. It was rotten and decaying, the smell of something dying.
Of something already long dead.
The floor was splattered with color, but there was one that was most prominent. Dark red that snaked over the ground, blackening where it had sunk in, a trail that disappeared behind the screen. They placed the lamp down with trembling talons, and slowly walked towards the screen. They didn't need to look— they already knew what they'd find— but they did anyway.
A corpse— one they didn't even need to see for longer than a second to recognize, despite the missing scales— and they tore their gaze away as their stomach heaved. Their head was spinning, their vision shaking, suddenly aware of just how much blood surrounded them, how much death had sunk its claws into the room.
Palamedes wasn't the only one behind that screen.
There were other objects scattered around the basement, Psyche noticed with an unusual clarity. Daggers, the little diagram of SilkWing anatomy next to the checklist, the cleaver still halfway through cutting scales into neat little squares. There were scorch marks where unrestrained flamesilk had carved into the treestuff.
She already had so many dyes. She already spent so much time preparing them. Why did she go through the trouble to... They blinked. It felt like they were walking through a haze. There was a small stack of paper next on the desk. Sketches, of faces this time. She kept a record, of all of them? They idly counted the sheets. There were twenty-seven of them. Sphex had cited a higher number— what was it xe had said? Thirty, was it?
Where were the other three then? Perhaps they were free. Perhaps Syrphid had gotten to the rest of them.
That was an awful rude thing to assume of a stranger, wasn't it? They could stand to be a little kinder to her, even if she had foiled a SilkWing's escape plans. Then again, they had held that strike against Daedalus for their entire life. Perhaps they were allowed to hate a little bit.
Their mind kept running in distracted circles. Izula wasn't actually lying about the snail shells, although they were crushed up into purple instead of red. Did it actually stain that permanently? It was an odd sort of lucidity that possessed them. They observed without really thinking, still processing something they were yet to unravel.
Psyche's eyes fell back upon the blood trail on the ground, and it snapped them out of the comfort of their thoughts. They had to leave— they had to go before it was too late, before—
...Where could they possibly go?
They couldn't just pretend nothing happened. They couldn't just walk away. They needed to stop her, but who would believe a SilkWing? The Lady Mantis? Sphex and Hyaliodes? They had already thrown that chance away. Which friend could they turn to? Camberwell lived too far away, Geo was only a recent friend they made, Daedalus...
Oh, Palamedes.
They already knew, even as their mind ran through the possibilities. They couldn't pull others into this. They couldn't get them hurt, when Izula was already unfathomably dangerous. When she had already gotten away with this for... how long was it? Seven years? What of Palamedes? They had brought him into this. They had, in a moment of stupidity, ki— they caused—
Psyche closed their eyes forcibly as if that could shut out the thought. They couldn't let that happen to anyone else. They had to face this alone.
They picked up their lamp again, stopping to wait before the stairs with movements they barely felt. The flamesilk felt too warm against their talons. They pushed it away, sitting in a relative darkness they didn't want to bother. They felt untethered from their own body, as if their very soul did not belong in these scales. It was just a little past midday. They wouldn't have to wait long.
They stared up into the abyss. Soon enough, countless yellow eyes stared back.
==Chapter 12==
"Aww Psyche..." She drew out the word as if chastising a child, "I told you not to come down here." She tossed her bag to the side, unflinching even as it crashed with the sound of breaking glass.
They stared at her, their throat suddenly dry. 
She didn't seem to mind their silence, letting out a long suffering sigh. "What do I do with you, Psyche? You know, I still care about you." She said, her smile all but reassuring. "You're by far the most interesting servant I've ever had the privilege of spending time with. And, I think, you care about me, don't you? Why else wouldn't you leave when you got the chance? You're still... wearing those earrings. After all this time."
They were on their feet before they realized, jumping back with a hiss. "I— I don't—"
"Shhh it's okay, Psyche." She whispered gently. She stepped forwards. "We can talk this through if you'd like, just you and me. We have all the time in the world. I'm not hiding anything else from you."
They were far too aware of the glittering suns dangling from their ears now, as heavy as their heart as they finally found their words. "You're a murderer."
"Oh, Psyche." She smiled faintly, "It's… it's not like that. I thought you'd understand, more than anyone. We've spoken about it before. I'm not a SilkWing. Much as I wish I could see the world through your lens, I simply never will. I do try though, I really do."
"What does that have to do with anything?" They started, but they already knew. They shrank back, as if it could stop the confirmation of the swirling suspicions they refused to address.
"You are ill," Izula tilted her head, "Sick, with the plague within our Hives. You know it as well as I do— you know better than I do— the subjugation that your kind faces. You live out lives oppressed and restrained. Is it wrong to end that? Is it wrong to prevent such suffering?"
"You could have done anything else!" They almost shout the words, surprised by their own volume. "You're— you're a HiveWing, Izula, you have connections, you could push for change, you could—"
"I tried, they don't listen." She flicked her claws dismissively, "You think HiveWings are happy to so radically change their lives? I am doing my part, Psyche. I am righting a wrong in this world, in the best way I can. Some dragons keep pets — cats, rabbits, whatever. What do you do when they're hurt? When they're too ill to live happy, healthy lives?"
"Is that all SilkWings are to you? Pets?"
That seemed to genuinely give her pause, her face falling into an expression perhaps meant to be comforting. She moved towards them, holding a claw out almost like an offering. "You should know I don't see you that way."
"I'm not asking about myself. I'm asking about Palamedes, about your other servants, about all the innocent dragons that you've killed—"
"I am doing the best I can." Izula hissed, her tone twisting into something harsher, "These dragons were suffering. My other servants— they weren't living good lives. I gave what I could and when that wasn't enough, I gave them a way out. What else was I meant to do?"
"Why did you kill Palamedes then? I knew him, I know he wouldn't have wanted—"
"Maybe he didn't know what he wanted. The need to survive is a core one, Psyche. It's hard to look past that when it's your own life. Or, maybe you don't know him as well as you thought you did."
The words caused a flash of pain they weren't ready to process. Psyche gritted their teeth, focusing on their anger, letting it push them forwards. "So you get to be judge, jury, and executioner for each one of these SilkWings? You get to choose if their lives are sad enough to be culled?"
Izula sighed. "I'm careful about who I choose, Psyche. There are some that have found… peace, in the conditions you live under. Like you. You've found a balance in this life. Not everyone has that, Psyche. I'm giving them an escape, is that so hard to understand?"
"You keep on insisting that's the only reason."
"Of course." Izula said, looking almost offended, "I've tried other avenues to help, trust me. I've tried to push for a fairer society, Psyche. I was ridiculed for it! There's no changing the way things are, there's no dismantling the system— at least nothing I can do alone. So this, this is something I can do. A way for me to help."
"You pretend you're being so righteous." Psyche snapped, tumbling onwards when she flinched, "Are you that blind to your own selfish reasons? Is the glimmer of SilkWing scales just that appealing to you? I know you're using them in your murals. It's just so much easier than going through the effort to get rarer materials, isn't it?"
"I don't—" She paused midway through the denial. They both knew it would be a like. "It was… a convenience I discovered after the fact. It wasn't why I started." She admitted, "Just… a way to let them be a part of something beautiful, a memorial. My mosaics are mostly of nature, you know? Quiet moments to appreciate. It's a fitting way to remember them, I feel."
"... And you've never killed a SilkWing because their scale colors just happened to fit whatever you were working on, then? It's only because you decided they deserved to die."
"I don't like your terminology." She said, with a smile that sent a bolt of such intense anger through Psyche they struggled to stay still. "And of course not. I want the best for every SilkWing, Psyche. If my intervention isn't helping them, of course I wouldn't act."
The conversation was getting nowhere. They always returned to that same wall, to Izula's inane insistence that murder was helping, that ending lives was beneficial. "Why do you think this is the only way to help?"
"I've already tried others, Psyche. What else am I able to do on my own?"
"Help them escape the Hives, then? Give them the freedom that's beyond these walls? You have social standing, you have the kind of trust others would kill for. You could do so much with that and you choose to—"
"What do you think would happen if I tried that, Psyche?" She was so loud that they quailed back almost instinctively. Their wing brushed against the wall. "If I were caught. Do you know how that would ruin me? I only have trust if I behave."
"What, is murder more socially acceptable than freeing SilkWings now?"
"I—" She sputtered to a stop, her gaze dropped towards the floor. "It's difficult." She said, finally. "And every success will just make the next attempt harder, and then what? I can't help SilkWings stranded outside the Hive? Where would they go, with no support network, with every HiveWing under the sun hunting them? Where would they live? What would they eat? There's nowhere to go." 
What was the point of fighting her on this? She'd been doing this for so many years now, there was no convincing her otherwise. Psyche should have known it was far too late for words. In their silence, Izula sighed, looking towards Psyche as if seeing them for the first time.
"It pains me to say it but… I don't know what to do with you, Psyche." Her voice fell, quiet and defeated. "You're so special, you're so unlike everyone else. I… I know I shouldn't expect you to understand why but… I don't want things to end here."
The underlying threat was all too clear.
Psyche's wing slid up against the hanging objects on the wall, sending one tumbling down near their tail as they bit back a hiss of pain, scrambling for a topic of conversation before Izula's attention could flicker away. "I… can try to understand all I want, Izula, but I still can't— I just— why did you kill Palamedes?"
"It was the best for him! He was trapped in a life he didn't want— you were the one that told me that! The physical exhaustion, to have so little energy that you can't even enjoy your limited free time, is that a life worth living?"
"Is that all?" Psyche pressed, "The only reason why? You decided that was enough justification and went through with it in half a day? Not because his scales were blue and you were running out of tiles for your mural?"
Izula blinked, and looked away. "Perhaps… I was wrong about him. I moved too soon. He fought back in a way the others never did—" She spread her palms, the ugly burns still present, scarring her scales. "I'm… sorry. I make it as gentle as I can, for them. My venom was always good for numbing pain. If that's… any reassurance."
Her response was so… unexpected. Psyche took a moment, trying to string together the right words. Trying to pretend that this was about a dragon they didn't know, not their best friend, their— "If you were wrong about him, then couldn't you have been wrong about others?"
"It's… improbable."
"Yet it's still possible, isn't it?" Psyche urged, even as their stomach roiled. Why were they pushing this argument? Why pretend Izula had any ground to stand on, at all? "Even if you were right to… kill most of them, is that risk of a mistake worth it?"
She didn't even pause. "It's a net positive, Psyche. There will always be errors, but a net positive is still positive! It's still better than if I was doing nothing at all. Can you… understand that?"
Psyche sighed, taking in a breath as they steeled their nerves, reaching up towards the earrings. A weight they had, bitterly, grown used to. Their tail swished slowly against the ground, brushing up against the that had fallen. They unclasped both earrings, holding them up to study the distracting radiance of the twin suns.
"You were right, about what you said earlier." They said, "I do still care about you, Izula… and as hard as it is for me, I think I can understand. Why you would do this." They look away from the suns, at her, and almost immediately regretted it. Her eyes were so bright, so expectant, waiting for the only answer they could possibly give. "... You're still the same Izula I've always known, so maybe we can… go back upstairs?"
"Pretend everything is normal?" She asked, a wry smile already tugging on the edges of her mouth.
"A new normal, but still normal. It's still you and me." Psyche affirmed, pushing away the sour taste in their mouth. They lowered the earrings, letting them clatter against the ground as they looked towards Izula. Their claws tightened on the hilt.
"Then let's go," She said, brightly, stepping towards them with an offered talon. "It won't be the same but—"
They clasped her talon, using it to propel themself forward before they could question their own choices again, before they could fully process the decision they finally committed to. They raised their arm and the dagger plunged forward, hitting its mark.
Yet Izula was moving too, and a slight flick where they held her talons distracted them. Her wrist stinger was extended, and buried deep in their claws.
Her other talon met theirs on the hilt of the dagger, and they yanked it back instinctively. It pulled clean from her chest as her claws fell gingerly across the wound, red quickly coating her scales. Their other talon was still stuck in her grasp, their tugging fruitless as they looked towards her with desperate eyes.
Her gaze met Psyche's, bright with amusement that made their stomach twist. "After all of that, I was still right not to trust you." She giggled, finally letting go of their claws.
The venom had long done its work, numbing their arm as they stumbled back, head buzzing with vertigo.
Their eyes landed upon gilded yellow suns splattered in blood, before it all faded to black.
==Epilogue==
Two years later...
The steam lifted from the stew, slender tendrils coiling through the air as Riodinidae stirred the pot. The kitchen around him was stocked with various vegetables and meats, heavy with the scent of spices. He pulled a small spoonful of soup to his mouth to take an experimental sip, before picking up the pot and bringing it to the one clean table in the room.
It was just in time. Dinner would be soon. He was unclear on if Termite would be present this time, so he made enough portions just in case. There had been some sort of spat going on between his HiveWing employers that he hadn't paid much mind to.
Claws tapped against the doorframe, and he glanced up to see Brimstone. She had gray brown scales layered over pale green, a look that Rio had often thought resembled a fox. "Hey, Brimstone."
She wrinkled her nose, fanning the air around her even as she waved a hello. "Rio, you've got to ventilate this place. The smell's going to rot your brain."
"I'll bring it up with Velvet." He laughed as she shuddered.
"Okay yeah, fair point." She leaned against the door, a sudden mischievous flash in her eyes. "You want to know what's been up with the countess and her husband lately?"
"Oh Brimstone, you know I don't like gossip."
She waved a talon dismissively, "Hey there now. This one's a fun one. You know Festoon?"
"The flamesilk?" Rio looked up suddenly, his face furrowed in concern. "Did he tell you what's going on at Wasp Hive? Is she actually imprisoning them?"
"The queen herself came in here to tell me he would be my assigned mate." Brimstone noted. "Yeah, she's definitely gotten sick of negotiating for flamesilk. That's not the point though!" She was grinning suddenly, animated. "You know how his room is constantly guarded by HiveWings? They told me how much she's been visiting him, demanding that no one join her in the room. I bet she's in love."
"Hey! Shh— you can't just go around saying stuff like that!"
Brimstone shrugged, but there was a smug smile on her face. "There's an egg, and Termite doesn't think it's his. Not a speck of orange on that shell." She yawned, before quickly snapping her jaw shut with a strangled breath. "You seriously need to vent this place out. Anyway, their marriage is doomed, Velvet will be doomed if the queen finds out, and then we'll be out of a job."
Rio sighed, but before he could say anything, Brimstone suddenly jumped. "Oh! You got a visitor from Mantis Hive, by the way! I just let them in because I am absolutely not speaking to Velvet until she gets that divorce with Termite sorted."
She quickly ushered a dragon in, their pink scales still visible under the brown cloak that hid most of their form. They pushed the hood off of their face, revealing familiar sharp features, decorated with nothing more than a pair of red earrings.
"...Psyche?"
"Rio!" They cried out, rushing forward. They held him out at an arm's length for a moment, as if taking in his faded scales and the food stains he had yet to clean off. They embraced him anyway, in a tight hug that he quickly returned. "I missed you so much..." They murmured, their voice muffled.
"I've missed you too, Psyche," He whispered, giving Brimstone a little wave as she rolled her eyes and left. "I'm glad to see you're still doing okay." They responded with a choked laugh. Rio frowned at the noise. 
He gently untangled them from the hug, taking a moment to regard them. They were much taller than the last time he had seen them, a true butterfly instead of the caterpillar balancing on new wings he remembered. There was still that strength in their eyes, perhaps mixed with a little more wisdom, a little more grief. "Are you okay?" He asked, "Is there a reason why you're visiting me now?"
They shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. "I thought—" They stopped, their voice cracking. "I guess I don't have anywhere else to go."
Their words caught Rio by surprise, and he quickly moved to find a place for the two of them to sit down among the foodstuffs. After they settled, he nodded to himself as he considered their words. "You can stay here, at least temporarily. We have spare rooms in the servant quarters and I'm sure Countess Velvet wouldn't mind your presence."
"Thank you," Psyche said, their voice so quiet they strained to hear it. "Thank you, Rio."
"Of course."
Psyche looked around the room, their posture still a little tense. "How have you been doing? You used to say you always wanted a kitchen like this, didn't you?"
He accepted the change of conversation easily. "It's a lot of work, cooking for everyone living in this mansion," He laughed. "Hard work, but satisfying nonetheless. It's nice to settle down, much as I wish I still had the energy to keep pursuing, well, more ambitious goals."
Psyche smiled at that, picking up the clues. "I'm glad to hear. I have actually met SilkWings in Mantis Hive with... similar goals." They smiled, "Your influence has spread."
"Not far enough," He sighed. "Wasp Hive is as impenetrable as ever, and she's planning things again." Brimstone certainly didn't seem to mind, although perhaps she just hadn't realized the implications for her eggs yet. Did she even want to have dragonets? He wasn't sure.
Psyche's gaze landed on him, waiting for him to continue.
"She's... imprisoning flamesilks. The family living in Wasp Hive at least, although I heard that something was going on at Yellowjacket last week. She assigned a flamesilk, Festoon, a mate here a few months ago." Psyche was already starting to look ill, so he tried to go through the rest a little quicker. "We think she's trying to take over the flamesilk production, in a very... extreme way."
"That's horrific."
"We still have time." Rio said, gently, "She's moving forward slowly with the changes, and Mantis Hive will be among the last. We can warn them, we can get them out of there before it's too late. You have connections there, you can help them. My nephew—"
He stopped, suddenly, as Psyche shuddered, nearly falling before barely catching themself with their talons. Their breath came out in shaky heaves, and Rio found himself embracing them before they fell limp in his arms, burying their head in his shoulders.
He waited until their breathing seemed to calm, waited until their voice finally emerged, small and strained, words interrupted with choked sobs. "He's not— Palamedes. He—"
Rio pulled them in closer, cooing gently even as he felt his own voice catch in his throat. "You don't have to say it. I understand, I'm sorry."
Their claws clutched him so tightly that he could feel pinpricks of pain. "You don't. I let— I let it happen. I was why she— I should have known I— the signs, I should have seen that she— he's dead!" It came out as a hoarse shout, before their voice collapsed back into whispers. "He's dead, Rio. I lead a murderer right to him. He got killed and it's my fault."
"Shh, shh." He murmured. "It's okay." The words felt fake, a chasm opening in his heart as he spoke. "You tried your best, right? You did what you could. I'm sure you couldn't have known what would happen." He scrambled for reassurances, for ways to calm them. What could he say? What was there to say, when the thought of Palamedes's death was already digging claws into his heart? He rejected that thought as quickly as it came, as if he wasn't yet willing to accept it as fact. "You can't change anything now. You just have to accept that. It's okay."
Psyche didn't respond until their sobs had quieted, and their form had stopped shaking so much. They carefully pushed themself back up, their claws loosening as they looked up at Rio. Their eyes, still glossy with tears, searched his face before reaching up as if they could capture the essence of his soul in their talons.
Their gaze held steady until they looked back down, voice subdued but now controlled. "It's not okay, Rio. You don't have to pretend that you're stronger than it. You don't have to pretend it's fine. It's allowed to hurt."
The tears spilled down his face on their own as Psyche curled back into his embrace. "It's allowed to hurt." They repeated, even as their voice started to crack again. "You're allowed to grieve."
Category:Fanfictions
Category:Fanfictions (Completed)
Category:Fanfictions (Fanon)
Category:Content (Mezepheles)
Category:Genre (Mystery)