67:37, Day 578, Year 58133

  Lustsong Woods, Shashvat Ananda (?????? ?????), the Realm of Eternal Bliss

  Two massive violet bees - each the size of a fox - hovered nervously to the side, clutching what appeared to be a dress woven from living plants. Their wings hummed a low, anxious note that vibrated through the clearing.

  A third bee drifted forward, its movements slow and deliberate as it balanced a crystalline bowl brimming with sparkling water. Steam rose from the liquid's surface in delicate wisps as the creature approached Lorna, focused entirely on its task of ablution.

  Lorna lunged. The bee's compound eyes widened, its wings freezing mid-beat. A high-pitched whine escaped its mandibles as Lorna's left arm snaked around its thorax, clutching it against her bare chest. The bowl slipped from its grasp, shattering against the ground. Liquid stardust splashed across the violet creep as Lorna's right hand formed a finger-gun against the creature's head.

  "Tell me how to get off this world," Lorna demanded, her voice raw. The Weaver trembled against her chest, its fuzzy body radiating a warmth she hadn't expected. "Tell me! Or I swear I'll —"

  "If you must unleash your wrath, direct it at me," Kathrin interjected, her tentacles lowering in a gesture of submission. "The Weavers are beings of peace. They have done naught to earn your ire, nor shall they ever!"

  The Weaver in Lorna's grip released a soft, plaintive sound - more whimper than buzz. Its complex eyes turned up to meet hers, facets gleaming with what could only be fear. The creature's fur tickled against Lorna's skin, soft as dandelion fluff, and she felt its rapid heartbeat flutter against her forearm like a trapped butterfly.

  Something in Lorna's chest tightened. The finger-gun wavered, then lowered as she stared into those golden compound eyes. She'd seen that same look before - in the faces of civilians caught in crossfire, in children separated from parents during evacuations.

  Slowly, her grip loosened. The Weaver darted free, wings blurring as it sought refuge behind Kathrin.

  "There now, little one," The serpentine woman gathered the trembling creature into her arms, pale fingers stroking its violet fur with maternal gentleness.

  Lorna crossed her arms over her bare chest, suddenly acutely aware of her nakedness. The adrenaline that had fueled her assault was fading, leaving her limbs heavy and her head light. Silver patches of translucent skin flickered across her shoulders as a parched sensation took place in her throat - telling signs of her depleted Aether as the Nucleus Virus surged with her emotions.

  "You shouldn't expend such energy after the Tasting," a male voice observed from the edge of the clearing. "The ritual leaves one's Aether reserves quite diminished."

  A tall figure emerged from between the violet trees, horns arching skyward from his dark hair. His bare torso rippled with lean muscle, skin bearing an otherworldly purple undertone. A skirt of living foliage swayed around powerful legs as he approached, holding a familiar crystalline vial filled with iridescent blue liquid.

  Lorna shifted her weight, muscles coiled despite her exhaustion. Her eyes fixed on the vial. "Indra-Sprite? You use it too?"

  "Vyomendri," he offered with a slight bow, his tenor voice carrying hints of Devavā?ī melody. "And yes - though our variety is somewhat more potent than what you'd find in the ancient city of Mumbai." His violet eyes studied her with unsettling intensity. "The water our Weaver carried would have served as well. Its properties are unique to Shashan."

  "I don't want your charity," Lorna spat, though her voice lacked conviction. Silver patches spread further across her skin as her depleted Aether reserves made her flesh increasingly translucent.

  "It's not charity to prevent a warrior from collapsing in our midst," Vyomendri countered, taking another step forward. He gestured at her translucent patches. "Your body betrays your need. Be kind to it."

  "My teammates," Lorna demanded, her voice steadier now. "Where are they?"

  "Being tasted, as you were," Kathrin replied, still cradling the frightened Weaver. "Emmanuel has taken quite well to it. Your friend Xin..." A slight smile curved her lips. "He proves more reluctant."

  "If they're harmed—" Lorna started.

  "They are treated as guests," Vyomendri interrupted, "albeit guests who must prove themselves free of corruption or ill intent." He held out the vial of Indra-Sprite. "The same as you."

  "All is well," Kathrin soothed as she released the Weaver in her arms. The gentle creature hovered at shoulder height with renewed focus as she continued. "Fetch another bowl. Our guest still needs tending."

  Lorna's eyes narrowed. "You call what just happened being treated as a guest?"

  "The Tasting is sacred to us," Kathrin said. Her tentacles swayed like seaweed in a gentle current. "Through it, we know you carry no diseases that might harm our hive. We know your body harbors the dormant Nucleus Virus, yet your mind remains your own. We know you can be trusted."

  The two Weavers still hovered nearby, the botanical dress held between them like an offering.

  The third returned, clutching a fresh bowl of sparkling water, though it maintained a cautious distance.

  A bead of sweat rolled down Lorna's temple. The silver patches on her skin had spread to her stomach, and her hands trembled slightly. The Weavers' wings hummed a soft, almost musical note as they drifted closer with the dress.

  "And if I hadn't passed your test?" Lorna asked.

  Vyomendri's expression darkened. "Then we would be having a very different conversation." He stepped forward, still offering the Indra-Sprite. "But you did. Now, will you continue to stand naked and depleted, or shall we proceed with proper introductions?"

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  The Weaver with the water bowl ventured forward again, its movements cautious but determined. This time, Lorna didn't move to stop it. The creature's compound eyes held no fear now, only patient purpose as it hovered near her shoulder.

  "The waters of Shashan cleanse more than mere flesh," Kathrin explained. "They restore what the Tasting takes."

  Lorna's jaw clenched, pride warring with necessity. Finally, she extended her hand toward Vyomendri. "The Indra-Sprite first."

  He passed her the vial, his violet eyes crinkling with approval. The familiar blue liquid burned down her throat, but the aftertaste carried notes she'd never encountered in the ones manufactured by the Alliance – something almost musical, like tasting starlight.

  The silver patches across her skin began to fade as her Aether reserves replenished, the Nucleus Virus subsiding as she calmed down. The Weaver seized this moment to upend its bowl over her head. The sparkling water cascaded down her hair, face, and body, instantly vaporizing into a cloud of iridescent steam that smelled of morning dew and distant thunder.

  The last drop of water from the Weaver's bowl splashed against Lorna's shoulder. The liquid hissed into steam on contact, leaving her skin tingling with unexpected warmth. She inhaled sharply at the sensation.

  “Thank you,” Lorna said cautiously as she eyed the Weaver, her nod barely perceptible.

  With a bob of its head and a light chirping noise, the Weaver hovered up and down, still carrying the emptied bowl with diligence.

  "But Radi-Mons like you murdered millions on Earth," Lorna said through the steam, her voice stronger now. "Why should I trust any of this?"

  "The Rakshasa are nothing like Skarn's mindless horde," Vyomendri replied. His expression hardened at the Fenris leader's name. "We broke from the Hivemind's control just a century ago. Some of us..." He gestured to himself, then to Kathrin, "...chose this form willingly, seeking enlightenment beyond human limitation."

  The first Weaver approached again, mandibles working with delicate precision as it began to clean Lorna's skin. Its touch was gentle, almost reverential, its fur releasing enzymes that dissolved every trace of sweat and grime. Despite herself, Lorna felt her muscles relaxing under its ministrations.

  "You mentioned the Moondust Crystal earlier," Kathrin said, her tentacles coiling thoughtfully. "Perhaps our goals align more closely than you imagine."

  Lorna stiffened. "So, how did you know about—"

  "But the Imperial Legion has already breached the Vault of Primal Urges," Kathrin interjected. "Their troops moved with remarkable efficiency. The Emperor’s subject are sure to reach the stone before you do."

  "You've been watching us?" Lorna's hand tightened around the empty Indra-Sprite vial. The Weaver hovering near her shoulder backed away slightly at her tension.

  Vyomendri nodded. "The Rakshasa have eyes in the Sol System. We saw your forces engage the Imperium. It was our wormhole which took you in as you fell through Door Valkyris."

  "The Alliance troops," Lorna's voice caught. "Did any—"

  "Most fell," Vyomendri's tone softened. "Though one survived - a man with arms of silver and manes of gold, like yours. The Imperium took him alive."

  "Thomas." The name escaped her lips like a prayer. She took an unsteady step backward, then another, until her legs brushed against the botanical bed she'd fled minutes earlier. She sank onto its edge, the living mattress yielding gently beneath her weight.

  The Weaver with the water bowl followed, hovering uncertainly nearby. Lorna glanced at it, then at Kathrin. "Weavers, right? They’re yours? They won't harm me?"

  "They exist to nurture, to create," Kathrin replied. "Violence is foreign to their nature." She gestured to the Weaver. "Let them tend to you. We have much to discuss."

  Lorna hesitated, then gave a slight nod. The Weaver resumed its work, placing the bowl on a table nearby before approaching her once more. Its touch was impossibly gentle as it began grooming her tangled blonde hair. The sensation was oddly comforting, despite everything.

  Vyomendri settled onto a nearby root that curved like a bench, his movements fluid and deliberate. "The Imperium of Dragons doesn't understand what they're pursuing. Then again, perhaps your Alliance doesn’t, either." he said, breaking off a piece of the pink fruit he picked off an adjacent bush. "The Crystal isn't merely a weapon to be seized. Its power comes with complications."

  "What kind of complications?" Lorna asked. The two Weavers carrying the dress approached again, waiting for her permission. After a moment's consideration, she extended her arms, allowing them to begin draping the living garment over her form.

  As Lorna slipped into the garment, the petal-like structures hugged her bosom with suggestive intimacy, its deep purple hue complementing her snowy chest. The bareness of her strong midriff contrasted the lush foliage that comprised the skirt. The vine around her waist tightened snugly but gently, molding to her curves as if it had a mind of its own.

  A gentle, almost ticklish sensation spread through Lorna's body as delicate tendrils emerged from the inner lining of the dress. She lifted a leaf on her skirt to see the tendrils extended towards her intimate areas, forming a pad reminiscent of a silk panty to cradle her womanhood. The fabric pulsed, at first moist to the touch but quickly warmed and dried like a layer of flesh guarding her femininity.

  "That's not a simple answer," Kathrin said. She slithered closer, her tentacles swaying in what Lorna was beginning to recognize as agitation. "But we'll share what we know - over the Rasa Tandava."

  "Rasa Tandava?" Lorna asked as the botanical dress’s living fabric pulsed gently, adjusting to her contours. Behind her, the Weaver's deft appendages began separating her hair into sections for braiding.

  "A sacred gathering," Kathrin explained, coiling herself around a crystalline formation that jutted from the violet ground like a throne. "Dance, feast, and discourse - where barriers between species fall away."

  "You want me to dance?" Lorna's tone sharpened. "After what just happened?"

  "The Tasting reveals the truth of flesh," Vyomendri said, rising from his root-bench. "The Tandava reveals the truth of spirit." He took a step toward the treeline, then paused. "Your companions will be there. Emmanuel has already accepted our invitation."

  "Manny agreed to this?" The Weaver's gentle tugging at her scalp was oddly hypnotic, making it harder to maintain her edge of suspicion.

  "Enthusiastically," Kathrin's lips curved. "Especially after meeting Tanha."

  "And Xin?"

  "Still undergoing his Tasting," Vyomendri said. "Though I suspect he'll find his own path to acceptance, given time." He gestured toward a gap in the violet trees where a faint path seemed to wind deeper. "The gathering begins at moonrise. We can take you to your friends now, if you wish."

  Lorna felt the last intricate braid fall into place, tiny sapphire beads catching the light. The dress had fully bonded with her skin now, feeling more like armor than clothing. She stood, testing her balance in this new attire.

  "Before we go anywhere," she said, "tell me - why help us? What's your stake in this?"

  Kathrin uncurled from her crystal perch, her tentacles writhing with sudden intensity. "Because some of us know that Radi-Mons and humans need not be enemies."

  The implications of those words hung in the air like smoke, but before Lorna could respond, a distant sound echoed through the forest - something between a roar and a song, haunting and fierce. The Weavers' wings hummed in harmonic response.

  "Ah," Vyomendri smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "The moons of Chandrak align. Shall we proceed?"

  April 6 (Sunday) in the next chapter!