Chương 1151: Day One Thousand One Hundred And Forty-Eight

Dear Diary, Yeah, after yesterday I'm a little wrung out, but not unhappy. I think that's something some folks don't understand about chronic depression, that you can be depressed, but not unhappy. I get it, it's hard to really understand if you've been told all your life that 'depression is the Big Sad'. And there are times when it's not really distinguishable from 'sadness' except in how negative things get.

Seriously, I've been sad and wanted to eat several tubs of ice cream, masturbate until my joy buzzer and fingers are both sore, then fall asleep. Not because those things bring joy, not really, but they release just enough dopamine that I'm not too tired to sleep. Yeah, I dunno if that's a depression exclusive thing, but it sure as shit is a me thing. I used to just lay there, sometimes for hours, with my mind racing in circles.

If I had some weed or booze I could beat my brain into submission, and when I was really tired I could stay asleep once I got to sleep, but without any kind of chemical assistance, sleep was not in the picture for me during insomniac episodes, which frequently coincided with my worst depressive crashes.

I guess if anything that's another big benefit of here and now; whether it's because I'm in great shape, I've got less real things for my depression to latch on to, or my fake Blended Human Adjacent body doesn't quite copy my old brain chemistry, when I'm depressed here I can almost always fall asleep. Mostly. Down in the depths of the M-Space Atlantic I didn't. But then I wasn't trying to fall asleep down there. I was trying to stay awake. I also wasn't trying to pretend to be Human Adjacent.

I'm gonna stop that line of thought right there, because thinking about the worst parts of depressive spirals is a sure way to turn what amounts to a sort of passively restful bout of depression into an absolute shitshow of a meltdown. At any rate, yesterday left me in one of those moods. I was tired, I was emotionally drained, I couldn't really feel much of anything, but it wasn't the awful self-hating lack of feeling. It was more of a calm, I dunno, acceptance.

I got home, helped Marie whip up some waffles, fed the kids, helped everybody get cleaned up, then took a nice long soak. My scars aren't nearly as bad as they once were, and I don't know if that's them healing, me getting used to it, or a lack of meaningful physical stressors making them flare up. Thing is, 'not as bad' as an ache that I had to actively ignore isn't 'gone'. They're still there. They still ache if I'm not distracted from them.

But lately if I'm focused on something else they kind of face into the background. Not sure if that's what the old heads used to talk about back in the day about 'aches and pains of age', but it sure as fuck better not be. I'm supposed to be functionally immortal, and if I keep racking up aches and pains over time, I'm gonna wind up crankier than Baba Yaga after one normal Mortal lifetime, just from chronic pain.

But whatever the reason they'd calmed down a little, a nice long soak in the Bath reduced them to nothing. Nothing I could feel even when I sort of mentally poked at them anyhow. I didn't have anybody else poke at them, because I wasn't feeling it. I just couldn't muster up the fucks, which is another aspect of the best kind of depressive episode. As a note, the best kind of depressive episode still sucks. But it's the kind of passive sucking that I could tell myself 'this too shall pass' and drift off to sleep.

Dreamt of my ladies watching the subset thereof who lived at the Homestead on the big screen, taking turns knocking one another out in the most pleasant way possible, at which point they showed up in my Maw. Where I yoinked them under at least once each. Later in the night they did some kind of choreography thing involving the West Tower. I wasn't caring enough to track well by that point, because they all still tasted kinda... Watered down. Washed out. Just not what they ought to be.

Woke up in the morning and, before Co-Locating for the day, gathered everybody at breakfast to announce, "remember, everybody. Tuesday starts at sunset. So..." So cute listening to my horde of kids chorusing, "be ready for anything!" One of me each guarding the bodies of my two favorite heads of state, one of me sitting in the Infirmary watching as Siobhan steadfastly refused to further alter her robes, or to take the slightest amount of shit from anyone about it.

Including Trease, who came in to discuss bookkeeping for the Infirmary. Then again, Trease is Trease. Now that Siobhan is Archmage Darling, Concubine of the Imperator, I'm guessing Trease's biggest complaint is that Siobhan's enhanced assets lifted the butt crack window enough she couldn't get her lips on the booty for appropriate ass kissing. I don't like the woman, I don't think I ever will, but she's at least consistent in her irrational annoying behavior, I guess.

Also, she does keep the books relatively well according to Vinny, who stopped by to check in on the Scribes working on the Infirmary records. Sadly, had too much going on to give in to some suggestive looks and comments. But I did bring up some food from the kitchens, and he got to eat lunch with Siobhan and I. She doesn't have anything against guys, after all. Just doesn't want one exploring her vajayjay. Unlike Sister Trease, who absolutely got a booger look when she came in and saw him sitting there after lunch.

She shut it down before he saw it though. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I guess that's a good thing about being depressed. Can't get fully disgusted if it's too much effort to do so. Left one of me at the Homestead with the kids, although I split that one into multiples as the kids broke into groups to do their own things. Asked for and received permission to follow Daya into her room when she went in there alone.

Blended to avoid disturbing her and watched as she spent the day working with her jewelry making kit. I'm not absolutely sure, but she might be kind of recreating Artificing from whole cloth. Not sure whether to get her some real training or let her cook, but either way, I'm so proud of that kid. Speaking of Artificing. Had an interesting conversation with Doc Roberts today. I closed the book I'd been reading, my finger between the pages holding my spot, and called out, "hey Doc?"

He wrapped up with the Cadet he'd been helping and came over.

"Yes, Tabitha?"

"Just reading up on Global Spells. Had a thought." He nodded.

"So, I think I've heard, read, figured out that Global Spells are just, like, Artificing on a massive scale, right?" He pursed his lips, but nodded.

"That's one school of thought." I raised an eyebrow, and he explained, smiling.

"I don't want to influence you unduly, as I'm not an Archmage, nor am I likely to become one any time soon, but it is the theory I'm most in agreement with."

"What are the other ones?"

"Oh, probably as many as there are potential Archmagi, but they can be summarized into a few broad categories. The most popular, at least among Clergy and the Devout, is that Global Spells are given to and managed by Deities. Another similar theory, although most Clergy would find it heretical, is that Global Spells create Deities, or possibly alter existing ones." I whistled.

"Yeah, i can see where they might get pissy about that." He just smirked at me.

"I must say, I find it amusing that I can speak what is generally considered blasphemy with you sitting right there and not fear for my Soul." I wrinkled up my nose and grinned at him.

"Hey, Doc, I may be a Goddess, but I'm still, y'know, Tabitha. I'd rather hear truth I don't like than have someone blow smoke up my ass." That reminded me. Kitten? Yes, Goof? Before I forget yet again, at some point I wanna try having smoke blown up my ass. Everybody who loves it can't be totally wrong, right? That got me an absolute hysterical snort followed by some unhinged laughter.

Hell, in the Grand Council chamber she paused, looked over at me, and went back to work, but with the kind of stiffness that told me she was absolutely holding in guffaws. You'd be surprised, but... Did you want to be? Want to be what? Surprised by smoke up your ass? Eh. Sure. Love you, Kitten. Love you too, Goof. Meanwhile Doc had gotten over me snarking at him and continued.

"Some practitioners feel that Global Spells are just larger versions of ordinary Shapes."

"Uh..."

"I think the group that believes that are idiots, but you didn't hear me say that." I chuckled a little, but said, "and the Clergy aren't?" He shrugged.

"Deities exist. If someone created one via a Global Spell, that would lend credence to that theory. But the idea that Global Spells are somehow universally accessible Boons just seems... Off." I had carefully shut my mouth when he talked about 'creating a Goddess', what with my cheek resting against Tallulah's thigh as she did her think in the Overlord's Court, but he didn't seem to catch it.

"So... Any others?" He nodded.

"There's the final category, wherein it's theorized that Shaping Global Spells is just Artificing on the grandest scale possible." That kinda led into the question I'd been wanting to ask.

"Okay, yeah, but how... Okay, you saw what happened when I tried Artificing, right?" He chuckled even as he cringed.

"Yes. I remember that vividly."

"Yeah, well. I've since created at least one thing I'm told is Artifice." When he looked surprised and curious in equal measure, I explained, "Slayer. Larry Lancaster's sword. A Valkyrie shattered the blade, so I Enchanted the hilt to extend a Mana Blade." His eyes lit up.

"I would dearly love to see that."

"Yeah, well, I'll let him know next time I see him. Don't go taking it apart, because I'm not sure how I did it."

"How so?" I shook my head and explained the core of what I'd been stumped on.

"It's a sword hilt. Not even a whole sword. So how's it holding the shape when the wood dowel caught fire, the copper rod melted, and the glass one shattered?" Brilliant guy Doc is, he got it and gave me an answer immediately. Oddly, one I understood.

"What do you know about Auras?"

"Uh... Extension of the Soul? Except sometimes not, like the Academy?" He rocked his head back and forth.

"Even then they are just that. Extensions of the Soul, only extensions of more than one person, usually over long periods of time."

"So... Did Larry's sword have an Aura, or did I Enchant part of his?" Doc just shrugged at that.

"Likely part of both. I'm told swordsmen often consider their weapons part of themselves, and those who inherit heirloom weapons often speak of feeling the Souls of their predecessors in those weapons." I pondered that for a minute, Doc just patiently waiting. Eventually a question leaked out of me.

"Does the planet itself have an Aura?"

"The planet?"

"Earth?" He blinked.

"I... Are you among those who believe the Earth itself wanders through the heavens like the planets?"

"Uh... Shit, I don't want to get off track, but remind me to explain that to you at some point, k?" He nodded.

"Fair. To answer your question, that is the core quandary of Artificers who feel that Shaping Global Spells is Artificing."

"What is?" He paused, and I could practically see him reviewing and discarding metaphors. Finally he nodded and said, "this example might explain your own difficulties with Shaping as well. With seeing Shapes, that is." When I nodded, he continued.

"Imagine that you were tiny, small enough to balance on the wick of a candle, to be encapsulated entirely within its flame, and utterly immune to its heat." I nodded.

"Okay. Angels dancing on the heads of pins and shit." He opened his mouth, and I barked out a laugh and said, "never mind my bullshit, I track what you're saying. Go on." He smiled, nodded, and finished with, "how could you see any other light, or perhaps any other dimmer light, when you stood within the source of light itself." Yeah, that shit definitely hit me. Not just the bit about Earth having an Aura, but nobody being able to see it because it was just too big.

But also the idea of me not seeing anything shy of Earth's Aura, because my own was too bright to let me see anything smaller. But I could still see Ley Lines. Kinda.