Chương 100: 98. Time to Think

I take a deep breath and hold it, pulling in mana from my ocean. The warm waters of my true self wash through me, calming and reassuring. I am more than what I seem to be, and this truth is unassailable. Regretfully, I return focus to my meat, specifically my hands as I move and shape the mana into intricate patterns. I open my eyes, let out my breath, and let the spell complete.

A dazzling blue copy of my eye appears in the air, tentacles writhing, and I smile as I watch Rowan's eyebrows raise in a mixture of pride and surprise.

"Nice work, Vita. It's pretty obviously an illusion, but a very complex one. Lots of moving parts. You're visualizing all of this at once?"

"I'm cheating a little," I admit.

"Well, I'd be quite the hypocrite to disapprove of cheating, but what do you mean, exactly?"

"This is me!" I tell him happily, pushing the core of my soul down my arm and overlapping it with the illusion so that he can see me move in real time.

"I'm visualizing it by watching myself move. This is my soul." It's been about a month since weird mask day, or 'The Skyhope Festival' as Penelope incorrectly insists that it is called, and during that time I have been very busy doing a lot of nothing. I spar with Lyn sometimes, and I have been learning kynamancy from Rowan, but frankly most of that has just been excuses to hang out with my family as much as possible. It's… honestly really weird doing so.

I actually know the names of all my siblings now, though that took quite a bit of effort to memorize. Having food, energy, and free time seems to have turned the kids into completely different people, but I suppose that's to be expected. We no longer have significant blocks of the day spent cowering or begging or stealing, so there are new things to do. Of course, that doesn't stop a lot of the kids from trying to go out and steal things anyway, which I understand.

It's the one skill many of them have, and it feels like we have nothing else to do with our time. Others are training to fight, watching Lyn and I spar and taking lessons. I can't say I'm a big fan of that, but it will be years before any of them actually get into danger unless one of them happens on a lucky talent, so it's a problem that I can kick down the road. Unfortunately, kicking problems down the road seems to continue being a habit. I am… really happy lately.

It's nice to not have anything I have to kill, it's nice to just be able to feel my family be happy, to soak in that satisfying joy that I accomplished. But in the back of my head, there's a constant tapping. A little reminder that won't stay quiet, telling me that I don't have much time left to become more powerful than Sky. That my deadline for betrayal is closing, that every moment I waste not getting more powerful is a moment I will regret when danger once more knocks on my door.

This joy is wonderful, but it is wrong. I shouldn't be sitting here feeling satisfied, because that complacency is exactly the flaw that caused so many of my problems up until this point. I'm not fulfilling my promise to myself. I'm not being proactive. I'm going with the flow, reacting with whatever feels right in the moment, and I know it's wrong no matter how much I love it. I should not be here. I am really, really happy I finally have this kynamancy spell down, though.

"That's what you look like?" Rowan asks.

"Well! It's nice to see you, I suppose." He makes an illusion of his own, a copy of himself, and pretends to shake one of my tentacles with it.

"Ooh!" Ronnie cheers, running up to us. He's one of the youngest ones, probably only five or six.

"What's my soul look like?" There was a minor token effort on behalf of Lyn, Rowan, and I to not let the kids know that I'm an animancer, since their ignorance is very literally for their own protection. Under Skyhope law, knowing about what I am and not reporting it is a serious crime, potentially even treason based on the circumstances, but frankly the kids are too smart and I am too shitty at keeping secrets for that façade to last very long. It's probably fine. Lyn and Rowan didn't raise snitches.

"Well, your soul is still growing and developing, but currently it looks like this," I say, shifting the illusion showing my tentacular beauty into a small, black sphere with hints of dark purples blooming around the outside.

"I look like a bruise," Ronnie whines.

"That just means you're tough," I answer, grinning at him. That earns me a grin back, and soon I have every kid currently in the house running up and asking me to show them souls. Most of them are similar to Ronnie's, mainly black with splashes of one other color growing out of it.

For a few of them, I can make educated guesses on what their talents might be based on the feel, but I don't voice that information out loud in fear of disappointing anyone if I'm wrong, or worse, having to tell some of the kids that I don't think they'll get talents at all. A knock on the door from Penelope spares most such worries, thankfully. She's a little early for the usual checkup, but not by much. The rest of the kids should be trickling in soon so they can receive their treatments.

"Good morning, everyone," Penelope says, nodding politely.

"Morning, Penelope," I respond, grinning her way. Emoting is annoying, but I'm relearning it. She smiles back, and it's always nice to see the rare occasions where her face matches her true emotions. Usually her feelings are squeezed, constrained, and regulated. She's always spending a background amount of effort ensuring whatever her body shows holds some advantage for her rather than just letting it react to how she really feels.

When she discards that, though, her emotions come through brighter, her song plays clearer. It's pleasantly soothing. She has a backpack today, though she just sets it down when she sits and grabs the first volunteer for treatments, smacking any hands that reach out to grab it. From there, the treatments proceed as normal. When it's my turn, Penelope spends a lot more time yanking around my eye than usual, making considering hums to herself.

"Looks like your eyes are more or less done," she says.

"It's all blue now. Have you been getting any odd looks?"

"A few more than usual, I guess," I answer with a shrug.

"Does it really look that weird?"

"It's rather striking, yes. In a good way, I think, but you're certainly hard to forget. I wouldn't be surprised if you have somewhat of a reputation." I nod glumly. I'm out of the house a lot, doing things like buying food or picking up my wages from the Hunter's Guild, earned from the solo missions I do around town nowadays. They're all pathetically easy, but no one else seems to want to do them since about ninety percent of the monsters in the city are in the sewers.

Our team is more or less gone forever, and I've yet to be placed on a new one. Teams that lose their scout tend to not come back at all, so it's difficult to slot me into a damaged group and I've made it clear that I'm not currently looking for a new one anyway. Penelope keeps to the medical ward, Orville has joined a different team, and I haven't seen Bently since he quit. I kind of want to track him down, but what would I say? Thanks for not outing me to the Templars?

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Anyway, Penelope is right. Between my eyes and the fact that everyone with the danger sense nearly shits themselves when I walk by, I am quickly becoming a known quantity. The reactions I get are becoming less "what the fuck is that" and more "oh no, it's her again." I don't really know what to do about it, though, so I just do nothing. Seems to be working out so far.

Penelope's treatments have been lasting longer and longer, but I don't really mind. I have no idea what all she's doing to me, but I trust her. I like that I can trust her. She pokes me and prods me all over, but I never feel like I'm in danger like I do with anyone else. It's kind of nice, especially since she rarely lapses into bursts of uncomfortable emotions while working, staying primly professional or at least distracted throughout our procedures. It's comfortable, and we have plenty of time to talk.

"You've done a few procedures on Sky now, right?" I ask.

"How has that been going?"

"Infuriatingly annoying," Penelope grumbles.

"He insists on keeping two other biomancers in the room with us, and he wants me to teach them everything I do to him. They are barely competent enough to prevent me from just lying about it."

"So you regretfully admit he's not stupid enough to just let you walk in and kill him?" I snort.

"I regretfully admit he's not stupid enough to just let me walk in and kill him," Penelope sighs.

"Which I expected, but it's still somewhat disappointing. No slowly weakening his heart until he passes out from normal exertion while I'm on the other side of the city. I could still kill him with a disease, and it's hilarious to me that he thinks his pathetic excuses for biomancers could do anything about it, but it's the same sort of situation as the one you described to me shortly after we first met."

"He would die, but not fast enough," I recall.

"And when he realizes he's dying, it's mutually assured destruction."

"Exactly," Penelope confirms.

"I've ensured that you and I are going to be an absolute mess for anyone to try and kill; a lot of these procedures will improve your capacity to survive even if I'm not there to heal you. Still, if anyone could manage it, Sky could. His talent is one of the strongest I've ever seen."

"Oh, you can do stuff that makes people harder to kill?" I ask.

"Would you mind doing that for the kids?" Penelope gives a very slight chuckle, soft and quick, as some worry in her soul gets a little lighter.

"Why Vita, I would love to."

"Thanks!" I say.

"That takes a load off my mind. But are you still doing the thing with Sky?"

"Yes. I didn't actually expect to be able to cleanly assassinate him this way, so it's no real loss. Though at the same time, I didn't expect him to agree either. I figured Capita would try to convince him to work with me and just... fail miserably. Yet she persisted for damn near a month, and now I spend nearly an hour of every other day getting berated by a petite two-bit hoodlum. Turns out he's lying to you about not having many funds, however. Either that or I'm draining his operation dry."

"Well, I trust that you'll be able to get some information out of it," I say.

"Thanks for doing it. Are you sure you're going to be safe without me there?"

"You don't need to worry about me, Vita," Penelope scoffs.

"I'm not stupid enough to let him take me anywhere he could attack without consequences. Besides, mutually assured destruction goes both ways." I give her a considering look.

"If someone actually does manage to kill you, what will happen?" I ask. She just laughs, and though the rest of the house gives her worried glances at the sound of it, I'm just happy she's looking forward to it.

"If someone is that dumb, I'll do my best to make sure you get to watch the aftermath," I promise.

"Much appreciated, Vita," she chuckles.

"So, I was wondering. Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" I frown. She knows that I don't, but I tell her so anyway because that's a social thing people do.

"In that case," Penelope says slowly, "I was wondering if you wanted to go out?" I freeze. Did I hear that right? No. Oh no. She's actually doing it. What do I say? I want to say no. It's not personal, I care about Penelope. She's amazing. She literally changed my life. But I'm not attracted to women, I'm attracted to men against my will, and I don't want to date anybody! Certainly not a noble!

I don't want to go to fancy dinners or plays, I don't want to hobnob with the upper-class, I don't want to have to be a part of some clandestine plot to hide from and/or murder her current fiancé. But I don't want to tell her no either. I don't want to lose her. What do I—"Vita," Penelope says, her lips pursed with amusement.

"I meant outside the walls. To the forest?" Oh. Well… I guess that sounds pretty fun. I've been meaning to do that anyway.

"You want to come with?" I ask her. She chuckles.

"That's what I'm asking, yes." She taps her chest with her knuckles, letting the dull thud-thud show she's armored and ready.

"You think I'm going to let you break your legs alone out there? The backpack has plenty of water and some food that I can actually stomach, and I've taken the liberty of giving notice to the guild. We should be good to rampage for a few days, if you like." I grin and immediately lean in to give her a huge hug, which she returns while radiating an aura of overwhelming smugness.

"I'd love to!" I say.

"What brought this on all of a sudden?"

"Stress. And of course Johan has been bugging me to get some damn time off, so I figured why not commit some morally blameless genocide with my best friend?"

"And partner in crime!" I add.

"And queen among slaves," she finishes, eminently amused.

"Indeed. I know we get to see each other every day for the treatments, but it's always work, work, work. I think we deserve a little fun, and you deserve a lot of food. I promise not to complain about whatever insane thing you decide to put in your mouth if you promise to leave a few monsters alive for me to experiment on."

"Deal, as long as you help me prepare it all for eating!" She sighs extra dramatically.

"Fine. If you must twist my arm over it."

"Heck yes!" I cheer. I'm already in my armor, since I always dress in my armor, so I just grab a bit more gear and then the two of us are ready to go. This is exciting! With Penelope's help, I'll be eating the whole forest in no time. We wander out to the walls, chatting about what we did yesterday and other nothings. A quick check by the guards and we are outside, vast tans and greens replacing the dirt and stone of the city.

The forest is ahead of us, and I do my best to focus on the scents in the air, the colors on the ground, the feeling of wind on my skin. These things aren't as beautiful to me as they used to be. I can see that, when I look for it, and I realize it's a loss. I don't really know what to do about it, though. I wish I didn't hate my body. I wish I wasn't disgusted by things that I never used to despise. My hatching changed me, took humanity away from me and crushed it.

I knew that from the start, and frankly I would never dream of going back. I just wish I could have kept the best of both worlds. I wish I could feel the wind and smell the air without the background of dread and wrongness. I want to retreat back into my comfortable soul, ignore my body, ignore its upsides because they really aren't worth the so many parts of it that I hate. But that has its own problems. I'm stuck. Trapped between two imperfect aspects, faulty flesh and half-grown soul.

Neither is a substitute for the other, no matter how much I wish they were. We enter the forest together, and I take a slow, deliberate breath, feeling the hollow, wet pair of sacks inside me expand as they suck in foul, mana-saturated air, then push it out as reedy bands of muscle press them back together. Suffer through it. I may not like my body, but I still need it.

"So," Penelope asks, glancing slightly down at me. Actually at me. She'd casted soul sight once we got away from the city.

"Where to first?"

"Everywhere," I answer with a shrug.

"We're just looking for a monster too dumb to run or too slow to succeed. And then…" I cut myself off a little, knowing that she's really going to like what I have to say next but fearing that it might be one of those things she likes a little bit too much. Oh, screw it. This is Penelope. She saved my life, she saved my whole family, and there probably isn't anyone in the world that understands me better. She deserves this.

"…Would you like an army?" I ask her. I swear, her grin nearly splits her head in half.