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Previously: Teri tested her limits…

“Gervyn! Gervyn!”

Teri felt herself waking up, which was a very weird sensation. Everything hurt, which she supposed meant she was, somehow, impossibly, alive. Not that she was doing much other than lying there and fighting a migraine. Everything was sluggish and light hurt her eyes, so she kept them closed, taking careful inventory.

Head—throbbing, but functional. Ribs—aching in that deep, structural way that meant bruising rather than breaks. Leg—the right one, the bad one, radiating the grinding misery she had come to think of as its default state. She had learned, over the past two weeks, to read her own pain like a weather report.

Two weeks.

She frowned without opening her eyes.

Something about that thought snagged on something else. She had been in Luttiron for two weeks. She had been trying to walk. Ota’s surprisingly strong grip, the brief exhilarating moment of being upright, and then…

Theo’s head appearing over the edge of the bed.

:You’re not going anywhere, though.:

She had hit her head on the bed frame. She remembered the surprising, catastrophic quality of that impact, the way pain had simply erased everything that came after it. She had thought, in the last coherent second before the lights went out, that she was finally dying for real.

Apparently not.

She wasn’t sure she was glad about that or not.

She took a careful breath and once again reached for the familiar sounds of a hospital, such as the low hum of monitors, the distant squeak of rubber-soled shoes on linoleum, the antiseptic silence of a place that smelled like bleach and bad news. She had spent plenty of time there, off and on over the years, with her mother. They were the sounds she had been waiting for since she first woke up in a coma-dream and decided that eventually, eventually, they would come.

“Gervyn! Stop! She’s resting! You can’t—”

“I just need to see if she’s okay!”

“Doctor Dourwin told you that she is recovering! Come on!”

Teri stopped breathing.

The voices were familiar, but not like the hospital sounds she expected to hear. Familiar like a bad dream that kept waking you up over and over at night (she’d had a few of those too, over the years; anxiety, said her therapist, but Teri knew it was mostly her job and her mother). But no, this was familiar in a way far worse than that.

The linens under her hands were heavy, embroidered, expensive. She knew their weight, and the unreal softness of the mattress beneath her, and the way the pillow sat slightly too high on the left side. Underneath everything was the now-familiar, faint smell of dried herbs that someone had tucked into the bedding to mask the medicinal smell underneath.

She knew this bed.

She also knew what came next. She knew it the way she knew the layout of her own house in the dark, after having done it so many times that the knowledge lived in her body rather than her brain. She knew the next line was supposed to be hers:

“You both need to shut up. I have a headache.”

It was the first thing she had said when she woke up before (again?), the first words out of her mouth in this body in this world and she remembered saying them, she remembered. She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

Teri sat up.

The pain was extraordinary. She had forgotten, in two weeks of careful management and medicated tea, and Doctor Dourwin’s grim physical therapy, what it had felt like at the very beginning. Her whole right side shrieked in protest and she fell back against the pillows, jaw clenched, breathing through her nose in short furious bursts until the worst of it subsided.

“What are you two reprobates doing here, bothering milady? She is grievously injured! Out!” Doctor Dourwin’s voice came from just outside the door.

Teri stared at the bed canopy. The gathered burgundy silk stared back at her.

She knew what he was going to say next and the exact phrasing of it, the grim professionalism he deployed when delivering bad news, the way he would tut at her for being a disagreeable patient. She knew because she had already had that exact conversation.

She had already spent two weeks here, fallen, cracked her head...died?

And then woken up here again.

The thought arrived with the quiet, terrible inevitability of a diagnosis she had already known was coming. She had never been a panicker, she was the person who stayed calm in emergencies and fell apart afterward in car behind a fast food restaurant, where no one could see. So she lay very still and let the information arrange itself in her mind with the methodical precision of someone who had spent most of her life being the only adult in the room.

She was pretty sure she had died...maybe on the table, during a surgery? And then been revived? The alternative was that this actually was her afterlife, and she was not going to humor that nonsense.

She had woken up at the beginning of her previous coma-dream, but that was not how coma dreams worked. Or any dream, really. This was not how anything was supposed to go.

The morning she had first arrived in Luttiron, Doctor Dourwin was outside the door, and the children were arguing in the hallway, and her leg was at its worst and her ribs were screaming and everything was new and bewildering and she had not known any of these people or this world except from the inside of a book series she had spent twenty years obsessing over.

Except now she knew all of it in a very different way, outside of ‘canon’ because she, personally, was living Lady Greyrage’s backstory (or AU? Undecided, she decided). She knew every conversation that was about to happen, every face that was about to walk through that door, every trap, alliance, and quietly dangerous moment that lay between this bed and the next two weeks. She knew it like a script. Like an audiobook she had listened to forty-five times and could recite word for word.

Like a fan who knew the source material better than the author.

A sound escaped her that was not quite a laugh.

:Oh good, you’re awake.: Theo’s voice arrived in her head from somewhere nearby, utterly matter-of-fact. :I was starting to get bored.:

She turned her head. He was on the bed, sitting next to her hip as he usually was…or had been? She had no idea anymore. He was watching her with his amber eyes and his a frankly unreasonable expression of calm, as if nothing unusual had happened. It infuriated her, just a little bit. Or a lot.

“Theo,” she said carefully through gritted teeth. “How long have I been here?”

:Since this morning.: He tilted his head. :You woke up and then went back to sleep. The doctor keeps checking on you, though!:

“This morning,” she repeated. “Which morning?”

He blinked at her. :The same morning!:

“Theo. What day is it?”

:The day you got here?: He offered, ever hopeful that he was getting the answer right.

Teri closed her eyes.

Two weeks of coma-dream-time nonsense, and now she was starting over from scratch?

“This is bullshit,” she said, to the ceiling.

:It’s not so bad,: Theo offered.

“I fell and hit my head on the bed frame and died,” she said conversationally.

:Yes.: He paused. :That was unfortunate.:

“It was extremely unfortunate.” She breathed out slowly. “I would like to not do that again.”

:Agreed. The bed frame is very solid wood. I checked.:

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He gazed back with that infuriating, familiar smooth-brained equanimity, the same expression he had always worn in the car when she was running late and furious and he simply could not see why any of that was relevant to the business of being a dog in a car.

Something about it settled her.

“Fuck this,” she said. “Why? Why starting over?”

If dream-Theo knew the answer, he wasn’t telling.

:NOT A DREAM DOG!:

“Fine! Oh my god, shut up about it!”

The door finally opened.

“Milady, you should not have moved so much. You are still healing. I am relieved that you have finally awoken.” Doctor Dourwin tutted familiarly at her as he strode over to her bed.

“I never liked you,” Teri growled.

“Ah, I’m, uhm, sure that is the pain talking! Can you tell me how you feel currently?”

“Annoyed.”

“Yes, I can believe that.” He cleared his throat. “I meant, are you in pain?”

“What do you think, you obnoxious quack?”

“Hm.” He smiled tightly as he took her hand as if checking her pulse. Had he done that last time? She wasn’t sure. They went through the whole rigamarole that Teri knew they had gone through before, but with less confusion on Teri’s part. She already knew the role she was supposed to play, and was frustrated enough to play “mean-spirited noble witch lady” well enough to pass. This time, at least, she had not stressed herself into a full migraine.

Eventually, Lady Elisander showed up weeping again over “milady’s miraculous recovery!” while side-eyeing Theo.

When Teri could not take their fawning anymore, she ordered them out; and, unlike her entire family back home, they actually did what she told them to do. Lying in bed, the pain filtering away after a nice cup of medicated tea (were they using opium? Should she be worried? Would it matter since it was still a coma-dream?), she tried to think through her next steps. The weeks ahead would be incredibly boring, but maybe she could better use the time to figure out what the hell was going on with her brain.

:Sleeeeeeeeep!: Theo yawned at her.

“Alright, alright—” She stopped when the door slowly creaked open.

A bright red mop of hair appeared around the edge of it, followed by a pair of very large, very green eyes scanning the room with elaborate casualness.

Teri looked at Gervyn Allisar—eight years old, future chosen one, eternal chaotic menace—and felt something that was almost fond. Almost.

“You know,” she said conversationally, “I was wondering when you’d show up.”

He froze in the doorway, caught entirely off guard, obviously expecting her to have been asleep already.

Good, she thought. That was new. That was better.

She was going to need every advantage she could get.

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Previously: Teri tried to convince everyone she’s totally normal...

The tension in the chamber crackled like a storm barely contained, with Lady Greyrage at its tempestuous center. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, bore down on Gervyn, who met her glare with a defiant flicker of teenage insolence. “You’re a disgrace,” she spat, her voice as bitter as the accusations she hurled. Gervyn’s bravado faltered under her onslaught, but he refused to look away, silently taunting her with his indomitable spirit. Ota, ever the peacemaker, interjected with soothing words, attempting to temper the arc of her fury. “Come now, dear sister-in-law, surely we can find softer voices,” he pleaded, layering charm over his own unease. But Lady Greyrage dismissed him with a sneer, her wrath undiminished.

~ Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, Book 1: Embers of Destiny

The following days were the monotony that Teri had originally expected: sleepy, boring, and vaguely painful. “Vaguely” was because whatever was in the little paper packets the minions delivered at regular intervals made her feel both loopy and disconnected from the pain radiating up her leg.

When she was ten, she had broken her arm rollerskating into a ditch, but it had been more of a minor bone fracture than a complete break, and she had once nearly been hospitalized with strep throat, but neither experience came close to the level of pain she was fighting off. She figured the adrenaline high she had when she first woke up had covered a lot of sins, because she could not imagine scooting around the way she had that first day.

She had been told that the pain medicine would stifle her magic, which was fine with Teri, since she wasn’t sure what magic felt like or how to use it. There was a kind of golden energy running through her nerves sometimes, a pleasant, syrupy sensation that was more like the one time she had microdosed on psychedelic mushrooms and saw ghosts moving in the ceiling. Which, when she thought about it, was probably as good an analogy to “magic” as she could come up with.

The result was a week of sitting around, sleeping, being fed and watered like a delicate orchid, and otherwise being bored out of her mind. Theo mostly slept through it all, grumbling that she was being noisy whenever she cried out in pain.

:I am not above thwacking you with a rolled up newspaper.: She tried to mentally do it, imagining smacking him upside his head.

:Lies! Anyway you canceled the newspaper subscription when your mother started hoarding everything.: He yawned in her face, circled around, and fell back asleep with a loud snore.

The kids did not reappear, which was probably a wise political move on their part, so the only people she saw regularly were Lady Elisandar and a young woman who was presumably one of Lady Greyrage’s ladies-in-waiting, named Lady Sariat. Teri had no memory of a character by that name and wondered why she had made her up. It wasn’t as if Fuckin’ Chad had not stuffed his books with literally hundreds of named and mostly inconsequential characters along the way. But no, clearly that wasn’t enough for Teri, who had made up a new one out of whole cloth.

At least the girl was quiet, spending most of her time brewing tea and shepherding Lady Elisandar around.

Unfortunately, the other person she saw regularly was not ever the least bit quiet. Lord Ota had decided that his sister-in-law needed to know all the latest developments regarding both the spring festival ball he was planning and local gossip, neither of which Teri gave a damn about.

He pranced into the room, as always dressed to the nines under layers of heavily embroidered silk in enough colors to put a bird of paradise to shame. He fluttered a bit, looking over Lady Sariat’s shoulder as she laid out snacks and (un-medicated) tea for him, then touring around the room as if he had never seen it before. Which was what he did every single time he visited.

“The florist says blue tripwillows are out of season, and I cannot have them for the boughs over the doorways,” he said mournfully, flapping his fan as he gazed out one of the tall windows to the yard beyond. Teri had not even been mobile enough to get to a window yet, so had no clue what he was staring at.

“I don’t know what tripwillows are and I honestly don’t care,” Teri said with a heavy sigh. It was not the first time she had said something similar, from “I don’t know what the Deamark Clan would prefer as snacks and I honestly don’t care,” to “I don’t know who the Lord Master Jeweler’s third daughter is courting and I honestly don’t care.” Ota took it all in stride, but Theo kept vibrating with disappointment at her lack of participation.

“You should! Tripwillows symbolize fertility and strength!” He turned baleful eyes her way.

“Because they bloom in late winter, you spurious boy!” Lady Elisandar stomped her cane on the ground. “You should know by now when they bloom!” The “by now” was heavily accented, and made Ota shield his face with his fan. Teri wondered what that was about.

:Everyone is upset that he hasn’t found a good bitch yet.:

:Wife! Not bitch! Human women are not bitches!: Teri tried not to laugh, because it hurt her ribs too much.

:You called Nancy a bitch all the time.:

:That’s different. She’s my sister-in-law.:

:Humans make no sense,: Theo sighed and jumped off the bed, trotting out the door. Lady Sariat scuttled out of his way with a slightly anxious expression, and Ota kept himself pressed up against the window ledge until even the tippy-tappy of Theo’s claws on the wooden floors had petered off.

“I told you, Theo is harmless.”

“He ate a void howler,” Ota stressed, pointing his fan toward the doorway.

“You’re not a void howler, are you? No? Then you’re fine.” She grumbled and tried to straighten up a bit more. Lady Sariat was there in an instant, shoving pillows around like a professional nurse. Teri thought maybe she was a mental representation of an actual nurse tending to her in real life. It made sense, anyway.

Ota finally came over and collapsed dramatically into the upholstered chair next to Lady Elisandar. He paused and gave Teri the most intelligently curious look she had ever seen on him.

“You truly don’t remember anything about your life here in Luttiron, do you?”

It was less a genuine question than an actual statement of fact.

Teri rubbed her eyes. “Has this been an interrogation this whole time? Five days of quizzing me on random things?”

“Not intentionally.” He shrugged apologetically, his eyes gone wide and vacuous. “Why would I do that? I was just talking about things you used to know.”

Doubtful, because Teri could not imagine that Lady Greyrage herself cared about tripwillow flowers (whatever they were) or the jeweler’s third daughter. On the other hand, Ota was generally too useless to actually interrogate anyone other than florists and tailors. She refrained from rolling her eyes, but her response was cut off by Doctor Dourwin himself appearing in the doorway. Lady Elisandar looked up from her embroidery suspiciously.

He bowed to Ota, then to Teri.

“I believe it is time to start rehabilitation exercises.” He did not sound excited about it himself, which Teri took to mean that whatever he had in mind was going to be a world of pain for her. The rather minor physical therapy she got after her broken arm had been agonizing. She was not looking forward to whatever her brain had come up with to torture her.

Why couldn’t she have imagined taking a long tropical sabbatical at a Tahitian resort? She loved the Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, but they were hardly a great vacation spot. On the other hand, if she wanted to grab the kids and escape Luttiron completely in order to have some fun, she needed her leg to be working.

She gave the doctor a fierce glare worthy of Lady Greyrage herself, and was pleased to see that he almost flinched.

“I assume this will be painful.”

He nodded grimly. “It will not be painless, milady.” He glanced over at her ladies in waiting. “I feel that it would be best not to have an audience for it.”

Lady Elisandar opened her mouth to protest, but Teri slashed her hand through the air. “Acceptable,” she said imperiously, and pointed at the door. “Close it on your way out.”

“Gooddayseeyoutomorrow!” Ota did a speed run out of the room, his fan batting at his face.

“That boy has no stomach for violence,” Lady Elisandar muttered loudly with disapproval, but she gathered her things and handed them to Lady Sariat as they walked out and closed the door.

It was just as painful as expected, and by the end of it, she was sweating and gasping for breath. Her suspicion that the golden syrupy feeling was “magic” was confirmed when he pressed a glowing hand to her thigh and she actually felt her muscles strengthening through the warm sensation. Doctor Dourwin brewed the medical tea on the tea tray that Lady Sariat had left behind and when he handed the cup to Teri, she slugged it and passed out before he had left the room.

The next few days were a blur of pain as she worked her muscles again.

By the end of her second week in coma-dreamland-Luttiron Castle, she felt well enough to try to walk, despite the lingering pain in her right thigh. Doctor Dourwin refused to say anything directly, but Teri suspected that they were not going to get much more progress in her healing. It was not canon-compliant in any way, shape, or form but Lady Greyrage was going to have a limp for the rest of her life (or until Teri woke up from her coma). The Ladies Elisandar and Sariat were despondent over it, but Theo took it with equanimity and a possibly snide comment about “hopping bitches” that Teri just did not want to ask for clarification about.

When she asked Dr. Dourwin about trying to walk, though, he nixed the idea, saying she was not ready yet.

“The pain would be extraordinary, milady,” he said with a slight and possibly insincere bow.

“Yes, but can my leg hold it?”

He pursed his lips.

“I just want to know how far along I am!” She stabbed at the air in front of her with her pointer finger, as if jabbing him in the chest. He automatically backed up a step.

“The break has mended well, but your leg muscles and tendons are still recovering.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” she said piously, and waited for him to leave.

Once again, as soon as he left, Ota and her ladies in waiting swooped in.

“You would not believe what they’re saying about Duchess Oritan’s debut at the capital!” Ota said breathlessly, fanning himself. Lady Elisandar looked Teri over critically, then went and sat down with prejudice, pulling out her embroidery in order to better ignore everyone. Lady Sariat stood a little behind Ota and had her face scrunched up unhappily. Teri assumed whatever the gossip was about, it was sordid.

“I don’t care. Come here.” She waved at him imperiously.

He froze in a half-seated position over the chair he had claimed for himself. “Eh?”

“Come here, you useless fan flapper.”

Lady Sariat mouthed the words “fan flapper,” but then busied herself with fussing over Lady Elisandar.

He approached her cautiously, which Teri understood well. No one wanted to be within slapping distance of Lady Greyrage.

“I need your help. Get over here,” she said, pointing to a spot next to the bed.

He scooted over and stood there, still eyeing her warily. Theo raised his head, glanced between them, and went back to sleep.

“Okay, here we go.” She flipped the covers off and pivoted slowly to the edge of the bed, mentally pushing back the pain that flared up nearly everywhere.

“Milady!” Lady Elisandar said sharply, then smacked Lady Sariat. “Go help her!”

Teri hissed as she slowly shifted her bad leg off the bed, her leg muscles flexing around the still-healing bone. Ota reached out as if to brace her, but then pulled his hands back.

“Give me your hand!” She snapped at him, grabbing for it. He nodded and let her grab his hand. His expression was uncertain, but his grip was surprisingly strong.

“Milady, is this wise?” Lady Sariat said, hovering nearby, hands out as if to catch Teri if she tumbled off the bed.

“Definitely not, but I’m tired of sitting around in this damn bed like a lump.” Teri took a deep breath, planted her good foot on the floor, and pulled on Ota’s hand to leverage herself up. “Oh, okay, I think this is working!”

She did not have a plan, other than to try to hobble over to the window. Even that bit of freedom felt exhilarating.

Ota smiled nervously at her as she loosened her hold on him to swing her bad leg forward with a hop, and in the next moment both her strength and her balance gave out. She screamed in pain as she fell to the side, her head crashing into the solid wood of the bed. Pain enveloped her brain, and then everything started to fade. She just made out Lady Sarait screaming and Ota looking panicked.

Theo’s head appeared over the side of the bed just as her brain started shutting down. At least, she thought, she was finally dying for real.

:You’re not going anywhere, though.: Theo’s words, disappointed and soft, were the last thought she had.

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Previously: Teri got a surprise...

The grand dining hall was filled with the echoes of merriment and the clinking of goblets, but beneath the surface tension flowed like an undertow beneath a calm sea. At the head of the table, Lord Ferdiff Allisar commanded attention, his presence as imposing as his booming voice. Every word he uttered carried the weight of authority, punctuated by imperious, broad gestures. Across the table, Ota reclined with an insouciant grace, a witty counterpoint to his brother’s bombast. His laughter, light and airy, flitted through the room like a butterfly. Ota’s eyes sparkled with mischievous delight as he offered quips and compliments, deftly maneuvering the conversation away from serious matters. Ferdiff’s jaw tightened with every jest, his attempts at maintaining decorum cracking like imperfect armor. To their assembled guests, the brothers’ interaction seemed a well-rehearsed dance of words, but beneath the civility lay a discordant note of tensions best left unspoken in company.

~ Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, Book 1: Embers of Destiny

Finally, the crowd was back down to Doctor Dourwin, his minions, and Lady Elisandar. Teri sighed heavily and shifted to pull her bad leg up onto the bed. It did not hurt as much as she thought it should, and wondered if that was an affect of adrenaline or the pain meds her “real” body was surely being given. Lady Elisandar shuffled forward to help, which Teri both appreciated and found annoying. She had never made for a good patient, anyway.

“Lord Ota’s really got clouds for brains, doesn’t he?” She said, holding back a grimace as Lady Elisandar maneuvered her leg, with Doctor Dourwin watching closely.

Lady Elisandar made a noise that might have been a snort of laughter from anyone else. “That is one way to put it, milady.”

Teri laughed at that, which made everyone pause for a moment. It reminded her that she needed to at least try and stay in character until she figured out what she was going to do. Assuming she had created a fix-it scenario for herself, she wanted to get it right. There was no telling what would happen if she “died” in a coma dream, and she did not want to find out.

“That boy has been light as a feather since the accident,” Doctor Dourwin added, looking somewhat regretful. That pulled Teri up short.

“The accident?” She wracked her memory for that reference, but came up blank. When had Ota been in an accident?

“Aye, he was so strong as a boy. I thought for sure he would enter service to our honored Emperor as a Sorcerer, or perhaps even a Mystic!” Lady Elisandar tutted.

“Accident?” Teri asked again.

“When he was sixteen. It is likely you don’t even know about it, no one discusses it. Something attacked Count Ferdiff, and in his efforts to protect his brother, Otandiff was injured. His magic was nearly entirely stripped away and he barely recovered. He’s been like that—” Doctor Dourwin waved an arm at the door Ota had just waltzed out of, “Ever since.”

“What…what attacked him?” Teri squinted in pain as she settled.

“No one knows, not even Count Ferdiff. Assumption is that it was an assassination attempt by a Spectral Lige, but who would send one after Count Ferdiff? The Emperor would not approve it.”

The special league of magically-enhanced druids were terrifying, but their loyalty to the emperor absolute. Although they would work for anyone who could afford to hire them, they were either unwilling or unable to do anything that would counter the emperor’s own interests.

What an odd twist for the plot, she thought, and wondered if there were hints of that sown through the books that she unconsciously picked up on, or if she created the incident whole cloth. She was betting on the latter.

“You seemed uncommonly generous with the children, milady,” Lady Elisandar added, in what she probably thought was a casual manner.

Time to lay the trap, Teri thought as she shifted around against the pillows Lady Elisandar stuffed behind her back.

“A good observation. The question is, was I uncommonly generous, or was I uncommonly subtle?”

Lady Elisandar stood up as straight as she could and frowned, while Doctor Dourwin gave her a thoughtful look.

“Before we were so rudely interrupted, I was talking with the two of you about the similar attack I experienced as a girl, and how that seems to be the cutoff point for my active memories. Everything since then is…vague.” She tried her best to look confused and concerned.

:It is not. You read about it all in those books we had to listen to over and over.: Theo grumbled, opening one eye to glare at her.

“In fact, it’s almost like I read it all in a book!” She held back a whoop of triumph at the description.

:What? That’s not what I said!:

She put her hand on Theo’s head and scratched behind his ears. He shut up with a happy wiggle, his indignations immediately forgotten.

“I do not understand the significance of the date, other than a similar void howler attack,” Doctor Dourwin, clasping his hands behind his back. Lady Elisandar looked painfully lost in thought.

“Umbruus is an unstable aether. Could it be possible that I was, uh, infected by the first one? My period, uh, courses started then, right? Unexpectedly early?” She looked at Lady Elisandar, who nodded. It was a gamble, but after all, this was her imaginary fix-it AU. Lady Elisandar better play along.

“Indeed, your courses started and you became quite fierce. Despite your low ranking in magical abilities, you fought hard in every competition. Everyone noticed that you were different after that.” She looked like she was getting ready to cry. “We thought it was simply an outcome of The Change.” She said the phrase such that Teri could hear the capital letters.

Doctor Dourwin shook his head. “The doctors who treated you then would have noticed unusual levels of umbruus lodged in your heart or liver. Furthermore, a second attack would have worsened the effect, not improved it.”

She nodded, but tugged at Theo’s ear. “I assume you are correct, of course, since medicine is not my specialty. However, you have not factored in the appearance of a powerful familiar.”

:I am very powerful! I deserve a treat!:

She just kept smiling at the doctor while Theo scooted closer to her, snuffling around the bed covers for treats that did not exist. All the doctors and Lady Elisandar shifted uneasily, watching him with guarded eyes. Teri really wanted to know what they were so concerned about.

:Oh, I ate the void howler. It made everyone upset.:

“You did what?” She looked at Theo, aghast.

:It wasn’t very big! And it tasted like old leather! I was hungry. Dragging you around isn’t easy, and it took a lot of energy.:

“Milady?” Lady Elisandar asked softly.

“Theo ate the void howler?”

Doctor Dourwin grimaced. “Yes, that is what was reported to me.”

“They are indestructible!”

“Apparently not,” he offered uncomfortably. “The Beast Warden was quite shocked, and has locked himself in his office to rewrite sections of the Allisar Bestiary. It may simply be a heretofore unknown ability of powerful familiars.”

Everyone stared at Theo, who panted heavily. :Treat?:

“You do have a point about how a powerful familiar could have drawn out the stagnant umbruus. It would mean that from the time of the initial attack to this one, your soul and body have been compromised, without anyone knowing.” Doctor Dourwin glanced at Lady Elisandar. “Would it be possible to exchange letters with the doctors who treated milady when she was younger?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Lady Elisandar said, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Teri took that to mean they had all run afoul of Bonarae’s mother, the Crimson Viper, and been sacked, exiled, or even executed. Doctor Dourwin seemed to come to the same conclusion and sighed heavily. Teri fought to keep her own sigh in, although for her it was one of relief. She did not need Bonarae’s childhood doctors coming around to challenge her set up.

“Whatever the case might be, the result is that I am not quite the woman who went on that hunt a few days ago, even if everyone here knows that I’m me. Which brings us back around to the children, Lady Elisandar.”

“Milady?”

“Gervyn is the instigator, but Robern is their leader. I want them to behave, not start a personal vendetta that would throw the entire castle into an uproar. Having him whipped would result in the latter, not the former. This way, he’s genuinely suffering for his part in the whole ordeal, while Gervyn and the twins can stew in guilt about getting their precious older brother in trouble. I can always whip him if things get worse, of course.”

:NO HURTING THE PUPPIES!:

Teri put her hand on top of Theo’s head and shoved it back down on the bedspread. :I know that, but they don’t.:

:Oh. Okay.: He whuffed a little and then closed his eyes again.

“Of course, milady,” Lady Elisandar said, her voice tinged with wonder. “A brilliant plan.”

“Not brilliant, but simple and easy. Throwing a tantrum about it would just be too much work.”

Doctor Dourwin and Lady Elisandar exchanged glances which spoke of having to deal with plenty of the lady of house’s tantrums, but said nothing.

“Doctor, what is the prognosis for my leg?” She waved a hand over her right leg.

He sighed and shook his head. “It was a nasty femur fracture, and only by the grace of Doctor Hirlo,” he waved a hand at one of his minions, a young but stern looking woman, “Who was attending the hunt and got it set and healing with a judicious application of her own aether, has it healed as well as it has already.” He stopped there, obviously pondering his next words carefully. “But the wound was caused by void howler, and as you know, magical injuries tend to, ah,” he let the sentence drift off.

“They linger,” Teri nodded, remembering some lore from when Gervyn got injured later in the books.

“As you say, milady. Therefore, we’re not sure how long the injury will take to heal.”

She eyed him thoughtfully, then glanced at the young doctor, who looked guilty and mildly terrified but was trying to hide it by staring at the carpet.

“What you are trying not to admit is that it might never heal entirely.”

Doctor Dourwin winced, and Lady Elisandar looked close to tears again.

She leaned back against the pillows. It was likely, she thought, that in her real life her leg was severely damaged, possibly even amputated, and a painful injury was her coma-brain’s way of dealing with it. The accident had to have been horrendous.

The combination of a mysterious “infected with umbruus” ailment and a damaged leg might carry a personality change for a while. No one would counter any of her orders while Count Ferdiff was on the market circuit, anyway.

Things would get a lot more dicey once the lord of the manor returned, but Teri was not even worried about that because she was pretty sure she was going to grab the kids and run for it before he ever got back to the castle.

:ROAD TRIP!!!!:

Teri sighed. :You hate car travel.:

:Correction, I hate cars. I love traveling to new places and getting treats from strangers.:

She could not argue with that, since he was always wandering up to people on the street back when she used to take him for walks.

:I miss going for walksies,: he said mournfully.

She had stopped walking him regularly a few years ago, when her mother had gotten to the point of accusing Teri of stealing “her” dog whenever she put the leash on him. The vitriol was more than Teri needed in her life, so she had just let her mother have her own way. As in so many things in life.

:But she’s not here! We can go for walks and travel to new and exciting treats!:

Teri thought for a long moment about what her mother was likely going through…probably getting chucked into a nursing home, if her brothers even bothered to break the lockdown. If not, it would be an ignominious way for her to die, neglected to the point of starving, most likely.

But there was literally, figuratively, and actually nothing Teri could do about it. She sighed.

“Yeah, we’ll go for walksies soon,” she said instead, scratching behind his ears.

:YAY!: He barked and hopped around excitedly. :You can’t steal the puppies, though. That’s not canon.:

:What the fuck do you care about canon?: She asked wryly.

He glared at her. :You made me. Listen. To the books. ALL THE TIME.: He barked to accentuate his point.

“Shut up about the audiobooks already!!” She threw up her hands in exasperation, then gasped as her rib cage spiked in pain. It wasn’t an act to angrily shove the doctor and Lady Elisandar away from her. “I’m fine! Fine!” She hissed as she settled against the pillows. All the doctors looked skeptical, while Lady Elisandar looked weepy again.

“Okay, maybe I’m in a fuck ton of pain,” she snapped at them, one hand pressed against her rib cage. The words spurred everyone into action. Doctor Dourwin and his minions fled the room while Lady Elisandar went over to the tea cart and poured some tea. A minion hurried back in and all but threw a paper packet at Lady Elisandar before bowing quickly to Teri and fleeing again.

:You get snippy when you’re in pain.: Somehow, Theo raised a judgmental eyebrow at her from his entirely prone position.

“I know that! Damnit, dog, shut up.” She watched as Lady Elisandar poured the contents of the packet into a teacup, then brought it over to Teri. She hoped to hell it was some kind of opiate, because her leg was starting to throb angrily.

“Your bond with your familiar must be strong,” Lady Elisandar said, and Teri could not figure out if the tone was neutral or damning.

“I wouldn’t know since I have never had a familiar before,” Teri said before slugging the medicated tea down. It was, at least, an entirely true statement.

“Of course, milady.” The old woman took the teacup and maybe said something else, but Teri was already starting to drift away, along with her aches and pains. She sent out a prayer of thanks to the nurses loading up her I.V. lines with pain killers out in the real world.

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Previously: Teri tried to figure out who’s who...

From his hidden perch, Gervyn watched his uncle glide through the opulent banquet hall with a mixture of bemusement and disdain. Ota was a spectacle unto himself, draped in silks so fine they seemed to shimmer with their own light, the vibrant hues a stark contrast to the somber colors Gervyn preferred. Ota’s long hair, intricately braided into an ornate coiffure, framed his delicate features, the epitome of vanity. His uncle’s tall, graceful form moved with practiced ease, every step and gesture meant for the admiration of the lords and ladies gathered around him. He was charismatic and beautiful and stupid as a fish. Gervyn couldn’t help but admire what the flighty airhead had managed to pull off, despite his disdain for what he considered the man’s libertine pursuits.

~ Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, Book 1: Embers of Destiny

“What in heaven’s eye?” A voice said from the door.

Teri looked over to see Vycette throwing herself against a beautiful man. He was dressed in layers of gauzy, silky robes over a light green and intricately embroidered tunic, his long, black hair done up in fanciful braids with beads and elaborate gold pins. He was probably in his thirties, with a strong jaw and captivating looks that were handsome but understated, no one feature standing out but altogether making him arresting to look at. He possessed the same understated, cool, handsome confidence of men like Paul Newman and Hu Ge.

Teri just stared, dumbfounded.

“Uncle Ota!” Gervyn jumped over to the man, who stood inside the doorway, studying everyone while slowly waving a brightly painted and feathered fan in his free hand, his expression one of surprised curiosity. Gervyn was trying to drag him over to Teri, but he had, apparently, planted his feet.

The name rattled Teri out of her daze. “Uncle Ota” had to be Otandiff Allisar, Ferdiff’s younger brother, who was a dilettante and general lazeabout who spent his family’s money on food, wine, and courtesans. The only reason his brother had not cut him off was that he had been a useful tool in spying, since he was always invited to all the best parties of the nobility. After Ferdiff’s death, Ota had drifted around on the fringes of the plot, mostly as decoration and comedic relief, showing up at major confrontations to drunkenly trip over the carpet, until he just flat out disappeared from the narrative in book four.

Fuckin’ Chad had written him as very handsome, but he had clearly undersold it. The man was gorgeous. Although he was not part of the popular character pairings, which mostly focused on the younger generation, he was a fan favorite and people loved drawing him. Yet, not a single damn fanart Teri had ever seen did him any justice at all.

In fact, he looked so unlike the common images of him throughout both official art and fanart, which leaned into “lithe and delicate twink,” that she wondered where on earth her subconscious had found the inspiration for “tall, handsome, and solid.” She was impressed with herself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked instinctively, too flustered to be polite. It was why she had always failed so hard in the dating scene when she was younger. Good to know she still had that going for her in coma-dream-scape-land, she thought with chagrin.

He sauntered forward, Vycette still clinging to his arm and Gervyn still trying to drag him, although he seemed unbothered by their attempts.

“Hard to miss the ruckus, milady, I had to see what all the fun was about!” He came to a stop next to Lady Elisandar, who looked like she had bit into a lemon and was staring at the wall behind Teri. Ota, in turn, was looking at Teri blankly, as if he had already forgotten why he was there.

Robern bowed low to his uncle. “I am sorry, Uncle. I am trying to apologize to Lady Greyrage. Could you take the children out?”

Teri squinted at him, because he was sixteen if he was a day, but she figured that maybe he was trying to get his younger siblings out of her line of fire. Ota would be the only one with rank high enough to force them out of the room, not that he used that rank much outside of poetry halls and brothels.

Ota turned his pleasantly pretty smile on his nephew. “Of course! Let’s go, children!” He grabbed Gervyn’s shoulder hard enough for the boy to grimace, and steered around the twins like a sheep dog, herding them to the door.

“Stop right there!” Teri snapped at Ota, causing everyone to freeze, including Theo, who stalled with one paw in the air as if he was some kind of demented pointer.

“Where is your brother?”

“My brother? Lord Ferdiff?”

“Do you have any other brothers?” Teri asked, knowing that he didn’t.

“Yes?” He looked even more confused.

“Wait, what? You do? Who?” She reared back. The books had never mentioned a third brother. What the fuck was her brain doing?

Ota blinked at her like a meerkat.

“Young Lord, the lady has experienced some memory loss,” Doctor Dourwin said diffidently.

“Really? Do you remember me? Do you know who I am? Did you forget about me?” Gervyn asked, waving his free arm around, his expression insultingly hopeful.

“Gervyn, shush,” Ota said, shaking the boy once, hard enough for Gervyn’s teeth to clack as he shut his mouth. His siblings, at least, managed to keep their faces under control. The twins were as still as deer avoiding prey.

“You have a third brother?” Teri pressed.

Ota blinked several times, then nodded slowly. “General Laran.”

“General Laran is your brother?” Teri yelled, then slapped a hand over her face. Suddenly the subplot about General Laran and his doomed romance with Princess Nikodia made so much more sense. Even if it was some new on-the-spot headcanon she had thought up, it just worked. She was slightly pissed off about it.

“His given name is Larantadiff Allisar; he’s the youngest of the Allisar lords. The emperor in all his gracious glory bestowed an, uh, shorter name when he elevated him to High Commander General,” Robern said.

“We don’t see Uncle Laran very often,” Gervyn added, earning himself another hard shake.

“Fuckin’ Chad,” Teri hissed.

“No, Larantadiff,” Ota said, smiling at her genially. He had no right to look that beautiful and that vacant at the same time. She thought fandom was really missing out on his himbo potential, and vowed to fix that when she got back—or woke up, however that worked.

She let out a heavy sigh. “What about your older brother? He’s not around?”

Ota glanced uncertainly at Doctor Dourwin, who responded with a slight shrug.

“He’s out making the market circuit,” Ota said. “He departed five days ago and left me in charge.”

The market circuit was a once-a-year route through the Allisar holdings and vassal lands, which took anywhere from several weeks to two months, depending on the weather and the problems Lord Ferdiff encountered.

“He did not leave you in charge,” Teri countered, quite certain of it.

Ota flinched. “He left me in charge of the social calendar,” he corrected.

That tracked.

Teri took a moment to look around the crowded room. Doctor Dourwin and his minions had retreated to huddle next to the wall near the door, probably angling for a quick escape if “Lady Greyrage” lost her temper. Ota still held Gervyn by his shoulder, with the boy looking uncharacteristically contrite about it and staring at the floor. They were positioned in the middle of the room with the twins not-quite-huddling behind Ota, and looking anywhere but at Teri. Lady Elisandar was next to her chair, discretely holding herself up by leaning against the armrest, glaring at Ota and the children in turn. Meanwhile, Robern had shuffled forward to stand in front of all them, closest to Teri.

Ready for punishment.

She looked directly at Robern, who, surprisingly, looked directly back. He wasn’t a character known for his backbone, but then, his injuries were said to have altered his personality a lot. Teri was currently looking at Robern as canon!Gervyn remembered him: protective older brother and strong, healthy heir to the Allisar title. The boy before the whipping.

The other kids were clustered around Ota, which was actually more surprising. Ota had been portrayed as being very fond of his nieces and nephews, but not very involved with them. His hold on Gervyn, and the twins trusting him to stand between them and their step-mother, suggested something more.

:You’re going to bite the puppy’s nose?: Theo asked helpfully, scooting closer to her on the bed.

:That’s not how humans work.: She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples again.

Theo examined Robern closely, causing the boy to show his first hint of unease. :I don’t see why not, he hates smelly things. Mouths are smelly. Just give him a nip! It will shape him right up!:

“That doggy daycare taught you all the wrong things,” Teri said aloud, and shoved his face away from her. She focused back on Robern. “But on the other hand, you have a good idea.”

:I know! I’m very smart.:

She sighed. Robern looked very confused.

“You purposefully mislead your siblings, and lied to your tutors.”

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as she spoke.

“You are hereby banished to work in the stables as a low-ranking stable-hand for a week,” she said, watching as Robern’s face traveled through fear to disbelief to horror as she spoke. She gave him her best smirk. “Enjoy mucking out the stalls.”

:Horses are awesome. Why is this his punishment?: Theo cocked his head.

:Humans generally hate the smell of manure, and you said he hates stinky things. Unlike you, he’s not going to wallow around in shit for fun.:

:That was ONE TIME!: Theo barked at her in punctuation.

Robern seemed to be frozen in confusion, but rallied himself after a moment and bowed low. “Thank you for your graciousness and mercy, milady.”

She flapped a hand at him, and when he didn’t move, pointed toward the door. “Go on, then. I assume you don’t need an escort?”

He practically yelped, “No ma’am!” and fast-walked out of the room. His siblings looked longingly after him for a moment, then back at Teri.

“I know you three are supposed to be in lessons right now,” she said, not actually knowing any such thing but figuring that if she was wrong, no one would tell her.

“No, afternoon lessons were canceled.”

No one would tell her except Gervyn, the boy with no sense of self-preservation. Even Ota looked pained by his exclamation.

“But we should definitely do some studying!” Aurguth said loudly, grabbing both Vycette and Gervyn’s arms and dragging them along. “Off we go to the library! Where we will study diligently! Thank you, milady!”

Vycette nodded obligingly and Gervyn rolled his eyes, but the next moment saw them being towed out the door, followed by the pitter-patter of feet breaking into a run in the hallway.

“At least she has some common sense,” Ota said as if it was a genuine compliment. He had already re-opened his ridiculously ornate fan and was languidly fanning himself with it.

“If only that ran in the family,” Teri replied without thinking, but stopped short of apologizing, which would be out of character. Anyway, she wasn’t wrong. Neither of the Allisar brothers was what anyone would call “bright.”

Except that there was a smart one, she remembered sourly. Fuckin’ Chad was probably saving that for a big reveal in the final book, given that General Laran had been an important but mostly off-screen presence throughout book four. She wondered what, exactly, his role was going to be, if that was the case. Heretofore, he had been a loyal and aggravatingly competent minion to Emperor Nikodosis.

“Larantadiff got all the brains.” Ota smiled happily as he said it, which made Teri think he probably was happy about it, since that meant not much would ever be expected of him.

“So Laran’s the baby?”

Ota blinked at her while mouthing the word ‘baby,’ but then shook himself. “You don’t remember?”

“As the doctor already mentioned, Milady is still suffering from amnesia, milord,” Lady Elisandar said with the resigned air of someone who was very used to reminding Ota of things he was told five minutes earlier.

“Oh! Right, right.”

“I don’t remember,” Teri confirmed. They stared at each other for a long moment before she broke. “So General Laran is your brother?”

Ota shook his head. “Yes, as I said, he’s the youngest. He went off to the army to find fortune and fame. I am, alas, the spare! Constrained by my position to stay close to Fer,” he said tragically, using the fan to hide half his face.

“Sure,” Teri said with a nod. It was nominally true, for all the Ota used his position to be a playboy, and was not directly in the line of succession given Count Ferdiff’s four children. “So, why are you here, again?” She gestured at the room in general.

He looked startled by the question, then glanced around, apparently forgetting that all the kids had already left. Lady Elisandar actually rolled her eyes at his antics, while Doctor Dourwin was visibly trying not to.

He rallied, though, turning a winsome smile her way.

“Of course I was concerned about my dear sister-in-law!” He flapped the fan a bit, then moved it to cover the lower half of his face again. “I’m so glad you are doing better! And with such a…unique…familiar now!”

:What is it with you?: Teri thought at Theo, who shrugged, yawned, and laid down to nap.

“Thank you,” she said as dryly as she could.

“We appreciate Lord Ota’s concern! So very kind of you to interrupt your important planning for the spring ball!” Lady Elisandar finally spoke up, and spoke very loudly, while rounding on Ota, who fluttered backwards and nearly ran into Doctor Dourwin.

“Of course! Of course! Well, ah, I suppose I should be going now! More planning to do! Goodbye!” He followed the kids’ escape, although if he broke into a run in the hallway, Teri didn’t hear it.

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Previously: Teri tried to convince everyone she’s legit…

Gervyn vaulted onto his horse with a fierce urgency, his determined gaze fixed on the horizon. The muscles in his arms flexed as he seized the reins, his dark blond hair whipping with the sudden movement. A shadow lingered in his eyes, a flicker of anger that had become familiar to all who knew him. The horse shifted, sensing the crackling energy that surrounded its rider, a blend of tension and restrained power. Gervyn’s jaw was set, his posture predatory, embodying the young warrior he had become—who had already seen too much and yet was driven by the forces of revenge that flowed through him like blood. As the horse snorted and pawed the ground, Gervyn leaned forward, urging it into motion, as though the very earth needed to be conquered to match the tumult within him. His sisters were in danger, and he had to save them.

~ Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, Book 3: Blazing Heart

“What is going on here?” Doctor Dourwin shouted over the mayhem, which had quickly grown to include his three minions, the castle guards, and even Lady Elisandar, who was tugging on a small child’s leg trying to drag them out of the mess. Everyone was too busy knocking into furniture to pay attention to him.

:PLAY TIME!: Theo stood up and then hurtled off the bed, landing on the back of one of the guards who screeched in terror. Then everyone was trying to extricate themselves, avoid getting kicked, and staying as far away from Theo as possible all at the same time.

Except the kids, who ignored everyone else and kept wrestling each other like their lives depended on it.

Teri watched them in fascination. These were not the Allisar children, at least not all of them, as they were the wrong ages. Maybe the eldest was Gervyn? But technically, he was the youngest of the four, so who were the other three?

Theo was bouncing around, barking and having the time of his life. One of the kids made a break to scramble for the door but got nabbed by a guard, who went down with a loud shriek when she kneed him in the balls.

A good, classic defensive move that Teri approved of on principle, but she figured the Keystone Cops routine had gone on long enough.

“STOP!” She hollered, sitting up in the bed as best she could.

Gratifyingly, everyone stopped immediately. Less gratifyingly, they all looked at her with undisguised terror.

Right. She was Lady Bonarae Greyrage, the Venomous Whip of Luttiron. A few of them (all of them?) probably thought they were going to be flogged to death at any second.

(It had happened a few times in the book series, before Lady Greyrage herself was murdered to loud fandom acclaim.)

She cleared her throat.

“Everyone please stand up like civilized people,” she said, trying to sound…haughty? Arrogant? Maybe like her old boss, the one who had been a micromanaging, self-righteous jackass. She kind of hated how easy it was.

They all sorted themselves out, and one of the kids at least helped Lady Elisandar back into her chair.

“Guards, step aside. Doctor Dourwin, make some room.” She flapped a hand at his minions, who quickly shuffled to stand by the wall.

She finally turned to the children, who had lined up, more or less, by height. Three boys and a girl, she reckoned by their clothes, with the eldest boy in his mid-teens, the middle boy and girl maybe ten or so, and the youngest probably around eight.

If she was at the start of the book series as she suspected, Gervyn was the fifteen-year-old and also a seething morass of rage. He was not one to believe that his evil stepmother suddenly got a personality improvement.

With a sigh, she looked at him, trying to keep her face blank. “What is going on?”

He bowed very low. “I am sorry, Milady, I take full responsibility—”

“It’s my fault!” The youngest boy yelled and leapt forward to bow down on his knees, forehead pressing into the floor. The other three grabbed for him, all talking over each other.

“Gervyn Allisar! Get up!” Lady Elisandar said, the words snapping with sharp displeasure as she wrestled herself back out of her upholstered chair.

The youngest glanced over at her. “Uhm.”

She hobbled over and grabbed the back of his coat, pulling him up. “I said, get up!” She shook him with more arm strength than Teri had expected, but the boy seemed unsurprised as he flopped a little in her hold.

But the eldest, the one whom Teri thought was Gervyn, did not respond.

Things clicked into place as she looked at the kids more carefully. The eldest boy had dark blond hair, was thin and lanky, and not fully grown into his height but promising to be very tall. The two middle kids were both curly-haired brunettes with dark brown eyes, and they looked alike. Too much alike. Despite their different outfits, and the one dressed like a boy wearing her hair braided back, it was clear they looked exactly alike. So that was Robern and the twins Vycette (in a dress) and Aurguth (in breeches). Which meant the youngest was…

“Gervyn Allisar! I’m talking to you!” Lady Elisandar shook him again.

He was too young. Too young. At the start of the series, he was a disgruntled teenager with too much power and not enough control, a great mage on the cusp of meeting his destiny or die trying.

Technically, he was not an adult when the series started, but he definitely wasn’t a tiny little child.

“Oh no,” Teri said with a gasp as the truth slammed into her. Her damn brain had thrown her into some kind of bizarre canon divergence, but all she knew was the actual canon. The only fanfics she had ever read that started with the kids that young also usually featured an extra-early, extra-grisly death for Bonarae Greyrage. Fans hated her that much.

Then she noticed that everyone had stopped again, and were staring at her with various ranges of fear.

Except for Gervyn, of course, who was looking around but not, surprisingly, trying to escape Lady Elisandar’s hold. He was a kid, but Lady Elisandar couldn’t have that much strength, Teri thought. Surely he could twist right out of her hands if he wanted to.

After a moment of everyone holding their breath, waiting for Lady Greyrage’s legendary temper, Gervyn stepped forward, which meant he dragged Lady Elisandar along because she was not letting go. Teri had to respect that.

But in another surprise, he was not making for the door.

“Lady Greyrage, it’s my fault! Don’t listen to Robern!”

Robern went pale but still managed to slap his brother’s shoulder. “Gervyn! Shut up!”

“Everyone shut up.” Teri spoke softly as she slowly twisted to sit on the edge of the bed. It was not a great idea for her right leg, which immediately began throbbing. Doctor Dourwin tutted at her but at least dragged over a heavy foot stool and helped her prop her leg up. Everyone watched with morbid fascination, although on the kids and the minions it was spiced up with wary apprehension. Teri realized that this was probably the first time anyone in Luttiron had ever seen Lady Greyrage injured.

When her leg was settled and pain dropped back down a bit, she rolled her shoulders and tried to sit up straight and proper like her parents had beat into her for church. It had some effect, as the minions all sorted themselves out by age and Lady Elisandar shifted into a submissive posture. Although she did not let go of Gervyn, Teri noticed.

“Why would I blame Robern for a void howler attack?” She asked, looking at Gervyn.

“Oh. Uhmmmm…you wouldn’t?” He said hopefully. She narrowed her eyes and everyone but Gervyn and Aurguth stepped back nervously.

“Do you not remember what happened?” Robern asked diffidently.

Doctor Dourwin opened his mouth but Teri spoke up quickly, and loudly. “No, I do not. It is not uncommon for people to not remember traumatic accidents if they were badly injured, as I was.”

She noticed the doctor studying her carefully as she spoke, and realized too late that she was acting way too smart for being Lady Greyrage.

:She was not that dumb.:

:How do you know?: She asked Theo while Robern and his siblings all carried on a silent conversation via eyebrows and shoulder shrugs.

:You listened to the audiobooks all the time in the car,: Theo said with a resigned and slightly judgmental air.

:I can’t believe my dog is judging my commuting cope. Get back on the bed, you are making the minions nervous.:

He barked, making everyone even more nervous, before jumping up on the bed, spinning around three times, and flopping down next to her, radiating annoyance.

Well, everyone except Gervyn and Aurguth, of course. She sighed and waved her hand around.

“I will never remember what happened, so someone needs to speak up.”

Gervyn opened his mouth but Robern not-so-subtly kicked him in the ankle, making the younger boy yelp and stumble, although Lady Elisandar still refused to let go of his tunic. Teri was impressed.

Robern stepped forward, and Teri noticed that he strategically placed himself between her and his siblings. It was the bravest thing she could ever remember him doing before his tragic life was cut short at the start of book one.

“It’s all my fault, Lady Greyrage,” he said, bowing low.

“Is it, now?” She glanced at Gervyn, who at least was smart enough to keep his face turned down, eyes focused on the carpet. Vycette and Aurguth mirrored his pose, hands clasped demurely in front of them. They all looked humble and contrite, and Teri wasn’t buying that on BOGO.

“I promised them a picnic, and made excuses to their tutors to get out of classes. I lied to them, claiming I had received your permission to do so. My siblings are blameless!”

The grumbling from Gervyn and Vycette was telling Teri otherwise, but she let Robern keep digging the hole deeper.

“I led them out into the woods. I didn’t know a void howler had been reported by the river, I swear it!”

Teri thought back to what she knew of void howler lore. They drank umbruus, the spiritual force closely associated with children because of how close they were to the line between birth and death. Not Robern, who was well into puberty, but the younger ones who had not crossed the adolescent line yet and were filled with umbruus would be a strong lure.

“You attracted the void howler, and I was tracking it. The fight did not go well,” she added with a sharp punctuation, motioning towards her leg. The twins and Robern all paled, which reminded Teri that the kids had been there to see their stepmother nearly die.

Or actually die, and get replaced with Teri.

If any of it was real, which it wasn’t, she reminded herself.

:No, it really happened! I was there!:

“Theo, please stop talking,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. When she looked up everyone was bowing low. “What?”

Robern cleared his throat. “The Most Honorable Familiar saved your life. We are indebted to you, Most Honorable Familiar.”

:Aaaiiii the puppies are so cute!: Theo got up and bounced on his feet, causing the bed to shake.

“Ow. Fine, get down, you’re hurting my leg!” She pointed at the floor. He jumped to the floor and pranced up to Robern, who looked awed to have a dog slobbering on him.

:Good boy! You are a good boy!: Theo said while yipping at Robern.

“He’s saying that you are a good boy, and you should scratch behind his ears,” Teri said with a sigh.

“Oh!” Robern smiled brightly and started petting Theo, who wiggled with excitement. That got a reaction from the other kids, but one of jealousy as they looked at Theo with their older brother.

Lady Elisandar tutted loudly. “You planned to sneak back and hope no one asked too many questions, didn’t you?” She said to no one in particular, but all the kids, including Robern, flinched. She rolled her eyes. “Your father will flog you for the harm your prank caused milady.”

“It was my idea!” Gervyn yelled, spooking Theo, who scuttled backwards. The flock of doctors kept to the side but also kept their eyes nervously on Theo. Gervyn looked a little wild-eyed himself as Robern told him to shut up and tried pushing him back behind their sisters.

Clearly, it had been Gervyn’s idea, and Robern was trying to protect his younger brother from a severe corporal punishment at the hands of their brutal father.

:It’s The Incident,: Teri thought with a flair of panic.

:The what?: Theo hopped back up on the bed.

:It’s part of Gervyn’ backstory! It’s when everything changed for Gervyn, because Robern was nearly killed during a punishment, and his health never recovered. It lead to his death in the first book. Something about a hunt going wrong…she was not severely injured, though. I could not stand up right now much less whip someone. So already I’ve changed things—:

“Your father will flog you until you can’t even walk!” Lady Elisandar shrilled.

:Or maybe not,: she added.

Fuckin’ Chad had never explained exactly what happened or what Robern was punished for, outside of the meager details that Teri had explained to Theo: a severe punishment gone awry due to Lady Greyrage’s cruelty and fury. Robern’s later ill health was blamed on the injuries he sustained, which had also shattered his magical abilities. The shining, beloved heir to Allisar was broken beyond repair and died horribly because he was not able to protect himself when the siblings went on the run.

More importantly, it was a turning point in young Gervyn’s life, the moment when his youthful innocence was crushed and he vowed revenge on his father and step-mother. It was a time he rarely talked about, even with his sisters. Fandom speculation was that Fuckin’ Chad kept the details about Robern’s punishment a bit mysterious on purpose, but Teri would lay money on the fact he just forgot about it as the story progressed.

The situation she was in might not be The Incident, but it lined up.

According to the plot, then, Teri would have to get up and whip a kid nearly to death. Or ask the vicious and cruel Lord Ferdiff Allisar to do it for her.

:NO!: Theo barked. :NO HURTING THE PUPPIES!: He growled, and Teri absently reached out to rub his head and calm him down while the doctor and Lady Elisandar took two careful steps back from her bedside.

:No,: she agreed. :No hurting the puppies.:

Her brain had concocted a perfect “fix-it” scenario, maybe as a way to keep her mentally engaged while comatose. That made as much sense as anything else, she thought, as she spun out ways to actually fix things without getting her character accused of being possessed by a demon or something.

Sometimes she hated her brain.

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Transmigrated Teri is an ongoing isekai/portal fantasy series about Teri Graves, an embittered middle-age GenX office lady who gets into a massive car accident and wakes up in the world of the fantasy series she loves to hate, The Allisar Fireborn Chronicles. She knows the characters, she knows the plot, and she knows that its all a massive coma dream…except for how nothing is as it should be. Worse? She woke up in the body of the doomed evil stepmother! She escaped a pandemic for this?

Table of Contents

Previously: “Reborn as the evil stepmother doomed to die!!!!”…

Lady Arnee Elisandar shuffled into the chamber, her hunched frame stooped beneath the weight of years that bent her back but never bowed her spirit. Her wizened face, withered and etched like an ancient relic, once cherubic, now sagged beneath cascades of wrinkles and nearly transparent skin. Her beady, watery eyes gleamed with the curiosity of the perpetually meddlesome, darting around the room with practiced vigilance. Short in stature and plump in the way of the well-fed elder nobility, she scuttled next to Lady Greyrage, clucking softly, her voice a faint rasp. To others, she was a nuisance; to Greyrage, strangely irreplaceable.

~ Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, Book 1: Embers of Destiny

While her thoughts tumbled through her head and Lady Elisandar continued fussing over her, Teri tried to grab onto a plan of action. Any plan of action would do. She stared up at the bed’s ostentatious canopy, which was thick, gathered burgundy silk. It seemed like such an odd detail for a coma-dream to have. Not to mention the talking dog.

:I am not a dream dog!:

“You mentioned that already,” Teri mumbled.

Theo finally turned around, then padded across the bed to flop down next to her.

:Then stop thinking it. I’m your familiar!:

She paused, then tried thinking at him instead of talking. :You’re Mom’s dog.:

:Which mom?: He sounded confused.

:Mom. You know, the deranged person living in my house who hates me?: She frowned. :How many mothers do you think I have?:

:The one there, and the one here!:

:Wait, you know about Lady Greyrage’s mother?:

He nodded his head.

:How?:

:Because I live here!:

That could only make sense in a coma-dream, Teri decided, and dropped the subject. Theo looked at her in confusion for a moment, before his shallow mind cleared and he flopped down again completely.

Which was fine with her.

She had watched enough isekai anime to know that playing the “amnesia trope” card was her best short-term solution, but losing “her” memory would not entirely explain a complete change in personality. She needed a better excuse, and she needed it to be one that she could play out for the long-term if necessary. Who knew how long she’d be in a coma, or what her subconscious would do if she didn’t play along? She’d seen Inception too, after all.

She lay still and closed her eyes, drifting back through pages and pages of the book series and everything she knew about Lady Greyrage, who was not a character she had ever put much thought into before. Like most fans, she hated her, but not to the point of obsessiveness. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much for her to remember, because Fuckin’ Chad had simply never brought up much of her back story. Either he didn’t care or was holding out on purpose. With him, it was always a crapshoot.

What was definitively canon was that Lady Greyrage had been born weak in magic and subsequently developed a major, psychotic chip on her shoulder about it. Collectively, the fandom assumed it was the reason she hated the Allisar children in her care, since they were all fairly powerful in their own ways—especially, of course, Gervyn. Her hatred of familiars was just an offshoot of it. Or so everyone assumed.

While she eventually became powerful enough to be dangerous, when she was a girl she had never been expected to amount to anything more than a moderately powerful witch, with some control over the external magic she connected with. There were a few obscure references in the series to a disastrous shadow hunt in her youth that somehow resulted in her powers being damaged by a void howler, although naturally Fuckin’ Chad never actually explained it... Teri’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.

One of her favorite fanfics had speculated about that event and mixed up some other lore to suggest that Lady Greyrage’s still nascent powers had somehow been made discordant by the foul magic that had commanded the void howler demon she had been hunting. The fanfic writer’s premise was that the discordance had never been properly balanced, leading to her becoming a warped and cruel adult. Teri realized it might just be her way out of her current predicament... at least in regards to tricking her own brain.

“Lady Elisandar,” she said, looking thoughtfully at the canopy again while she tried to pull her ideas together into a coherent plan. “I find that the doctor is right, there are some lapses in my memory. You said it was a void howler we were hunting?”

“Yes, so I was told.”

“And it grabbed ahold of me. By my leg, I presume?” She flexed her right foot, feeling the pain radiate up her leg harshly enough to make her wince.

“Yes, Milady. Until your familiar appeared to fight it off, the demon had the upper hand.” She shuddered dramatically. “Ser Brorwyn said that if your familiar had not joined the fray, you would have likely lost your leg, if not your life.” Her voice trembled a little.

“I doubt it. Void howlers are not blood-eaters, for all that they are related to wolverines.” She squinted, trying to recall anything she had read in the bestiary section of Robern’s Library, a.k.a. the long-running fan wiki. She had been part of the ad hoc emergency team to move it to wikia when geocities was being shut down in 2009, and her obsessive meticulousness about it had earned her no friends, but it meant that she spent months in her happy place: neck deep in AFC lore.

“That is true,” Lady Elisandar said, looking perplexed.

Her plan started to take shape.

:Oh! A game?: Theo lifted his head.

:What?:

:We are going to play tricksies! Like when Mother pretends to throw the ball but doesn’t!:

:Don’t you hate that?: Teri looked over at him.

:I do! I HATE it! Argh!: He barked in annoyance. :But it makes her laugh. That! Makes me happy!:

:Yeah, sounds like Mom.: Teri nodded, turning her mind back to her just-maybe-possible plan. As the idea of what she would need to do started to form in her head, the door swung open and Doctor Dourwin entered, trailing three other bearded men in ostentatious burgundy and pink robes. It looked like an ad hoc meeting of Pretentious-Dudes-R-Us.

“Ah. Milady. Lady Greyrage.” The doctor bowed shallowly and then popped back up, giving Theo a subtle side-eye. “I have brought my colleagues.” He held out an arm, and Teri got the impression that he was getting ready to list off names, ranks, and credentials. She had been to one too many university conferences in life to have to deal with that bullshit in death...or coma, whatever, didn’t matter.

“No,” she said loudly and held up her hand in a “stop now” motion. His mouth clacked shut.

Lady Elisandar was no longer able to hold back her excitement and plucked at the doctor’s sleeve. “Milady remembers!”

He gave the elderly woman a tight smile and gestured to one of his minions to lead her back to the overly-upholstered chair.

“Is that so, Milady?”

Teri reached down to find her most annoying white-lady-speaking-to-the-manager attitude, which wasn’t very far down given the circumstances.

“I remember who I am. I remember where I come from. I remember experiences of my youth, and I remember Lady Elisandar.”

There was a pleased murmuring from her audience.

“But I do not know where I am, who you are, or what year of our emperor’s reign it is.” Which, after all, was true enough. She could tell that the body she currently had was younger than she was, but that was about all. Were they at the start of the book series? Later? Earlier? Not that it would make much difference in the long run, but she wanted to know.

She waved a hand at Lady Elisandar, who had started crying loudly again.

“She looks much older than I expected, which is why I did not recognize her at first.”

This time, the murmuring was dismayed.

Doctor Dourwin, though, was not one of the ones murmuring. He studied her with a critical eye before folding his hands in front of himself.

:This is exciting! What if he doesn’t believe you?:

:Theo, please just lay down and shut up for a minute.:

:Rude!: He spun in place for a moment and flopped back down in a huff. Everyone by the bed flinched, but continued to ignore him.

“And before you ask, no, I do not remember how I got into this situation at all. Lady Elisandar mentioned that I was on a shadow hunt for a void howler?”

Doctor Dourwin’s face turned sour like curdled milk. “Indeed.” He rolled his shoulders.

She just stared back at him, hoping she looked imperious and demanding, and not constipated.

“What imperial year do you last remember?” he asked.

Well, she knew she had forgotten something. She gnawed at her cheek for a moment, trying to do math and figure out when Lady Greyrage was actually about thirteen. There was a reason she wasn’t in the accounting or financial aid departments.

The first novel started in the 250th year of Nikodosis’s reign, when Gervyn was fifteen, and Lady Greyrage was assumed to be thirty-five. She was killed by Rustad two years later when she was about thirty-seven? Or thereabouts. She subtracted thirty-seven from 252, but that was confusing, so she thought about subtracting thirty-five from 250, no, twenty-five from fifty was twenty-five, plus ten? Minus ten?

:228! You were thirteen in 228!: Theo grumbled at her.

“Two hundred and twenty eight? Nine?” She did not have any problem looking confused and just hoped her dog--who was a dog--was good at math.

Lady Elisandar paused in her crying jag long enough to gasp loudly.

“That is a while ago. You would have been about...a girl.” Doctor Dourwin apparently was as good at math as Teri was.

“Thirteen! She was thirteen! It was when!” Lady Elisandar cut herself off and covered her mouth with a handkerchief, eyes wide.

“When, what?” He glanced over at her.

“When her courses started,” Lady Elisandar said through the material. “They started early due to her fight with a void howler!”

Everyone looked shocked by the revelation.

Bingo, Teri thought with triumph. Her plan was coming together.

:It’s not a plan, it’s a badly thrown ball.:

:Close enough!: She glared at Theo. :I have to tell them something or they will think I’m possessed!: She was not looking to get burned at the stake, even in a coma dream.

“You are not behaving like a thirteen-year-old maiden,” Doctor Dourwin said critically.

“When I woke up, I somehow knew that I was not that same girl. I’m just saying that is where my memories get cut off.” She huffed and resettled the bedcovers around her. “It’s like being in two places at once,” she offered, which was not a lie, at least.

“Hmm,” he said cryptically, eyeing her.

:He’s not catching the ball.:

:I know that!: She pointed at him. :Stop distracting me.:

The damn dog actually rolled his eyes at her.

Doctor Dourwin and his minions watched the byplay with interest, so she straightened up and focused back on the matter at hand: making headcanon her reality.

“Do you remember anything about your current life?” Dourwin finally asked.

It was a valid question, but she debated what to say. She did not remember anything about Lady Greyrage being injured on a shadow hunt while mistress of Luttiron Castle, but it hardly mattered to the inciting incident of Robern finally dying, which provoked Gervyn’s rebellion against his father.

So many terrible fathers in the Allisar Fireborn Chronicles, she mused. Not that mother figures got off much better.

No, ignorance was her best bet.

“Things look familiar, but I don’t know why. I know I am not actually thirteen years old. I can tell we are not in my rooms back in Zyphyrehon, but I am not expecting my mother to visit me.”

Everyone, including Theo and Lady Elisandar, cringed.

“Indeed,” Doctor Dourwin said after clearing his throat.

“But I’m also sure I have never borne a child.” She put a hand over her abdomen like a delicate Victorian heroine insisting she wasn’t with child. Which she knew full well Lady Greyrage had not, since her infertility was yet another contributing factor to her hatred of her stepchildren. “Yet, you mentioned children earlier.”

He opened his mouth to respond, at which point the large, heavy door to the room burst open as several of the aforementioned children tumbled in, yelling loudly and tangled up together like a ball of knotted rope, with two castle guards trying to yank them apart.

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