...Teysa is trying to help.

Teysa had spent much of her life adjusting, and by now, she had the knack. The little girl had become a novice, the novice had become a paladin, the paladin had become an adventurer, the adventurer had become a broodmother. At last, through blood and pain and sorrow, the broodmother had become a drider.

Every new adjustment was just a step on the road that had started before the marble gates of St. Petronia. The steps became easier as time wore on, as change piled on change. Life had abraded away Teysa’s rough edges, worn her smooth, carved her like stone into a fitting shape. Each adjustment had been easier than the one before. She walked the path of her God, after all, and each trial was just him forging her into His holy weapon.

Until now. With each new transformation, Teysa felt a little more of the girl she’d been slip away. Sometimes it felt like a void inside her, a cavity where something precious had once been. What was it? Innocence? Humanity? Whatever it was, it had slipped away from her piece by piece, so completely that she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d lost. And now she woke up each day and felt the yawning pull of that void. It tugged at her with a gravity all its own, and in the quiet hours before sleep it spoke with a voice all its own. Sometimes that voice came from Aliara’s knife, which lived on a flat stone in Teysa’s cave. She barely dared to touch the thing anymore—just looking at it put her heart in her throat. At night, it whispered to her. The things it said… she shuddered. They were lies, she was sure, and lies were easy to ignore in the daytime. At night, alone, with fatigue nibbling at the edges of her brain, the lies dug their little claws into her soul.

She’d kept the knife, at first intending to return it once she could think of some reasonable excuse for why she’d taken the damn thing. But the opportunity never came up. Aliara had thrown herself into working with the drow refugees, and Teysa was trying to keep her distance. A few of the more curious driders snuck over to the refugee caves from time to time, just to catch a glimpse of the two-legs in their natural habitat, but the reaction they received sapped any motivation Teysa might have had to join them. She already felt enough like a monster. She didn’t need further reminders.

Was that why she was avoiding Aliara? Perhaps. It made sense. But there was another reason, one Teysa could barely bring herself to think about. It was hard to believe that their picnic by the underground pond had been only a week ago. At the time, it had been wonderful, a reminder of a happy time in Teysa’s life and a promise that they could come again. Now the memory was tinged with bittersweet. It had been a goodbye of sorts. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but it was true all the same. She and Aliara had been drifting steadily apart. Nothing had changed since the picnic, and yet everything had changed. The bond between them was fraying, and Teysa feared that the next time Aliara talked to her, it would only be to sever it entirely. She made her excuses and avoided the drow, finding ways to help them that didn’t involve her presence.

Much of the resettlement work was logistical, and the Matron had placed Teysa in charge of it. It was at once mind-numbingly dull and brain-breakingly complex, and more than once Teysa wondered if she’d been handed this duty as a penance for speaking out of turn. At least she had El’keth to assist her.

“Hyou will lead sssssssomeday,” the Matron had told her daughter. “Hyou mussssst learn to organize. To delegate. Take care of thessssssse two-legsssssss. Prove that hyou can handle the ressssssponsssssibility.” Teysa knew the Matron was being uncommonly generous in allowing them to stay, but the way she spoke about the drow still rankled—as though they were pets for an indulgent child to spoil. Perhaps that was how the Matron thought of them, but as long as she kept them fed and safe, Teysa supposed it didn’t matter.

El’keth proved an asset, in any case. She’d sold off a portion of the drider treasury to pay for grain and organized a weekly caravan route to the nearest trading post to keep the warren stocked with supplies. Lil’esh came to them a few days after the drow had arrived, bringing tribute: gold, jewelry, whatever treasure the drow had managed to bring with them in their flight.

“Thank you for this, Lil’esh,” Teysa said, bowing her head solemnly. “I know it must be hard to give up your treasures.”

Lil’esh shrugged. “When it’s that or your life, it’s not much of a decision, is it? You can’t take it with you.”

“How is Aliara?” The words spilled out before Teysa could stop them. She cut herself off, but the damage was done.

“She’s fine,” Lil’esh said. Her tone remained carefully neutral. “She’s been a real help.”

“Could you tell her from me…” Teysa stalled out. Tell her what? That you love her? That you miss her? That you’re proud of her?

That you’re afraid of her? Afraid of what she’ll say the next time you speak?

“Give her my best,” Teysa finished instead, and cleared her throat. “And if there is anything more we can do you for your people, let me know.”

Lil’esh held her gaze for a long moment. “I will. Thank you, Teysa.” She bowed and took her leave.

Fortunately, El’keth was not yet accustomed to parsing out subtext. “I miss Aliara,” she said as Lil’esh took her leave. “I hope she is doing well.”

“Me too,” Teysa said. “I’m sure she is fine. Come on, let’s review the contract that water merchant sent us one more time…”

And so the days went by. Stone-shaping driders worked to make the refugee caverns habitable, and bit by bit the warren transformed. Teysa still saw Aliara in the corridors of the warren, still greeted her with a warm smile, but she could feel the distance between them growing wider by the day. And then, one day, she didn’t see Aliara at all.