Vigor Mortis

Chapter 136: Toy Story

I hum a slow song to myself as I move through the upper floor of my home, touching up every last speck of dust. I’m always trying to keep busy, but unfortunately there’s just not much cleaning to do when the house is empty. Theodora, Margarette, and precious Vitamin all left to live in the forest with their true love, and I hardly blame them for it. I’m jealous, actually. But all three of them are exceptionally messy, not to mention exceptionally good friends, leaving my days full of things to do and people to do them with when they were here. I’m not used to how lonely the house is without the others.

Thankfully, I don’t have to wallow in the emptiness for long as a chime sounds throughout the house, alerting me that my lady will be home in approximately fifteen minutes. Yay! I burst into action, rushing down to the kitchen to start a meal and a pot of tea, noting every imperfection in the house along my path and logging it in my memory to clean up later. With the food and drink started, I quickly take a detour to charge and repair the heating rune for the bath, the impromptu melody of my private performance accelerating into a more and more jubilant tune the closer I know my lady is to arriving. I felt such pride when Theodora declared me a skilled enough metamancer to handle the house’s rune system on my own. Being a mage is a far greater accomplishment than anything he could attest to.

One last thing to take care of before she gets here, then. I look down at myself, pushing away the instinctive surprise and horror that still takes up unwanted space in my mind after nearly two years. They’re his memories, his feelings. Not my own. I am Nugas, the man I was made from is dead, and though his ghost still haunts me it grows weaker by the day. I, personally, love my body. My soft, pale skin, my short stature, my beautiful breasts, my gleaming sapphire eyes, the way my body curves and flows, the thin layer of fat barely hiding the powerful muscles I’ve been given… these things bring me joy not just because they were perfectly sculpted by my lady (though the simple thought of that makes me squirm with delight) but also because they are quintessentially me. The man in my memory hates them, fears them, and so it is with them I stamp out his last embers. This is a large part of why I dress myself in such revealing ways, even though my lady clearly wants me to stop.

The other reason I do it is because she wants me to stop. I quite love seeing her flustered. It’s a sinful delight.

Anyway, I need to choose an outfit for her arrival, and I find that’s best done with the assistance of a mirror. A temporary mirror, obviously. Metal mirrors are expensive and wasteful, especially since I can maintain a person-sized kynamancy mirror using runes on my own. Runes are lovely things, capable of holding and running spells all on their own. Metal is largely useless until it’s carved into the shape of a rune, at which point it constantly performs whatever spell it is sculpted to be. Metamancy runes are nearly identical to this, except that unlike metal they both run out of power and degrade. Metal is inherently sturdy and automatically draws in mana by its very nature, but metamancy runes have neither of these advantages. They must have extra mana included as part of their construction which they then burn to perform their effect, and they tend to degrade in just a few days without upkeep from a trained metamancer. So, in essence, while metal can be used by anyone a metamancer is required to make use of runes.

And I am a metamancer. I’m also very sexy, and I take a moment to appreciate that some more in the mirror I made while figuring out how best to taunt my lady with the fact. The problem, ultimately, is that Lady Vesuvius isn’t particularly attracted to women in the general case. She’s attracted to Vita, and her attraction to me stems from how I was made to look identical to her. Well, minus the extra eyes and the elbow tentacle and the buzz cut and the tangible layer of grime and the complete lack of fashion sense and the inability to express emotion and the permanent resting bitch face. But supposedly, I look just like her.

By that reasoning, being maximally seductive would involve fewer comically revealing outfits and more… Vita-ness. My lady has confessed to me in private that part of what makes my creation such a mistake is that Vita’s appearance never truly mattered; it was the feeling of being so known and yet still accepted, the vulnerability of having her mask removed and not coming to harm, that ultimately made her fall in love. So I think I could certainly trigger an instinctive arousal if I mussed up my hair and started looking at everything with a completely blank expression, but ultimately I don’t want her to love me as a sexual surrogate for her girlfriend. I want her to love me as Nugas. I want her to know that being the result of her worst tendencies doesn’t mean I’m incapable of accepting her despite them.

I’m not just a thing. I’m real.

I’m so distracted with these thoughts that I run out of time to actually decide on an outfit, so I settle on some string monstrosity that has so little fabric a nudist would consider it risqué. It’s not a very exciting choice, but it’s a classic. I then head downstairs and finish all the preparations necessary to get everything cooking just before my lady arrives, then go to wait for her just outside our teleportation arrival chamber. I keep the oven mitts on, because the contrast between the heavy, heat-protective fabric and the rest of what I’m wearing highlights the latter (and more importantly, it amuses me greatly).

Then, with a rush of energy, she’s there. My very literal reason for existing. First Lady Vesuvius. Over the time I’ve known her, she’s gradually become taller and more heavyset, a purposeful decision both to accentuate her voluptuousness and give her more space with which to add customized organs into her body. As usual, her outfit is a fashionable mutation of militaristic dress style, light armor fitted over her body in ways that sacrifice slight amounts of practicality here and there but still provide ample protection. Lady Vesuvius is a noble of action, after all, and her outfit is carefully crafted to support that image. Her golden eyes flick towards me immediately, their jagged, vertical pupils shrinking slightly to accommodate the change in lighting.

“Welcome home, Lady Vesuvius,” I greet her warmly, unable and unwilling to hide the smile on my face.

“Nugas,” she nods tiredly, stepping towards and then past me.

Hmm, her pace implies urgency. Her expression is distracted. She’s caught up in thinking about a problem, so there’s only two places she’s likely to go and she’s headed the wrong way for the bath.

“Shall I take your tea to the study, my lady?” I ask.

“Yes, please,” Penelope confirms. “Thank you, Nugas.”

I beam, her words sending a rush of joy out from my heart and through the tip of every limb.

“It is my pleasure, Lady Vesuvius,” I assure her. And it truly, truly is.

I already feel my mood improving drastically as a result of Lady Vesuvius’ presence. When I was first created, when I stopped being a man rejecting my name and became Nugas in truth, everything reversed. I no longer spent the days in my cell in agony, fearing the moment my lady would arrive. Instead I spent them in anticipation, yearning for the burst of joy that fills my body on the sight of her. The effect has dampened over time, but that just makes it feel more natural. More me.

I regretfully break off from her path, heading to the kitchen to retrieve the tea and a few light snacks to tide her over until the meal is ready. Then I’m off to her study, where I find her rapidly scribbling out plans and contingencies over multiple pieces of paper that span nearly her entire desk. My lady’s study is always exceptionally tidy (Lady Vesuvius herself is by far the least messy member of the household, after myself) but this is partially due to the general barrenness of the area. Certainly, she has bookshelves full of reference material, and her desk is outfitted with a wide variety of different writing materials, runes to adjust the heat of the room, and a dozen other practicalities and comforts. The only truly personal object, the one thing that serves no purpose other than aesthetic, is a preserved human eye. Its sclera is white like a normal human’s, but its iris is the same brilliant blue as my own.

“Your tea, my lady,” I announce, placing it down on the small table next to the desk designated for food.

“Thank you, Nugas,” she answers without looking up.

I flush with joy again, though this time it’s tempered with a bit of worry.

“Are you all right, Lady Vesuvius?” I ask. “You’re being unusually polite today.”

“Yes Nugas, everything’s…” she starts automatically, then trails off, blinking with confusion once before looking up at me.

“Does me saying thank you make you assume something is wrong?” she asks incredulously.

“Yes, my lady,” I nod. “You’re always more polite when feeling particularly contrite. Have you done something you regret?”

She stares at me for a moment, then lets a huff of air out of her nose.

“Today?” she asks dryly. “I suppose that’s yet to be determined. Lark and Jelisaveta ended up in my office today, the latter missing an arm and a chunk of soul thanks to the former. Which left me needing to make a snap decision about the decontamination protection plan.”

Ah. I frown slightly, nodding with understanding.

“So you modified her memory with animancy,” I conclude.

“I did indeed,” Penelope sighs. “How could I not? It was the perfect opportunity. She can’t reveal my crimes under decontamination if she doesn’t know about my crimes anymore. But removing memories would leave obvious, easily noticeable chunks of her soul missing…”

“…Unless, of course, it’s expected for her to be missing parts of her soul due to a vrothizo attack,” I finish for her as she trails off. “Yes, that makes perfect sense. But when you tried to remove my memories, I simply got them back when my soul healed because they’re still contained within my brain. What changed?”

“Former Inquisitor Captain Manus,” Lady Vesuvius explains. “He showed me how to make it permanent. Permanent memory alteration leaves a permanent mark on the soul, however, because it doesn’t remove the memories from the brain, it merely blocks the person from thinking about them. But Jelisaveta already has a memory-blocking mark on her soul, and the Inquisition already knows about it. I co-opted that one easily enough.”

“Clever, my lady,” I beam. “Now that you’re able, you wouldn’t be planning to remove any of my memories, would you?”

She stares at me for a moment like I’ve grown a second head.

“No,” she promises with the weight of finality. “Never.”

Oh. That’s… unfortunate. I struggle to hide my disappointment as I change the subject.

“…Well, as convenient as it is, this still seems like a situation where a lot could go wrong,” I say. “It relies a bit too much on the incompetency of your enemies—”

“—And enemies are always at their most competent when you’re relying on them to not be, yes,” Lady Vesuvius grumbles. “I know. Which is why I’m here, working out possibilities and contingencies. I didn’t have a lot of time to make the decision, but an imperfect solution to the likelihood of decontamination during what is basically the second Ars crisis is better than no solution.”

I nod agreeably, waiting to see if she’ll continue without prompting. She doesn’t, though, burying her nose back in her work. Normally, that would be my cue to leave, but… at this point I have to admit to myself that she won’t open up to me if I’m just polite and patient. I have to be the one pushing forward.

“So what part of that makes you regretful, Lady Vesuvius?” I ask.

She looks up again, clearly a bit surprised. Good. See me as more than your expectations, my lady. Please. She doesn’t respond at first, going back to her work, but her expression remains changed. She’s thinking about it. So… I wait. Eventually, she does speak.

“My goals are good,” she says softly. “I don’t just believe that, I know that. I want to allow people to live as long as they want, in whatever body they choose, free from sickness and age. I want this country to be a beacon of progress, free from the incompetent, greedy hands that drag it downwards. My goals are good. But… I’m not.”

She stops writing again, looking up at me.

“I will hurt as many people as I have to in order to make these dreams a reality. And for anyone else that would require an intense conviction, a zealotry, but I don’t… have that. I’m just incapable of feeling empathy for my victims in a normal way. So what if… what if the real reason I’m doing this isn’t because it’s good at all? What if it’s just a larger-scale version of you?”

I sit down in the chair across from her desk, crossing my legs and puffing out my chest a little. Not for any real reason, it’s just a habit I’ve developed for getting her attention.

“Well my lady, I’d certainly prefer you not transform vast swaths of Valka into biological copies of your girlfriend, if that’s what you mean.”

I know that’s not what she means. She gives me an annoyed look, to which I respond with a bright smile.

“I mean in the sense that I’m doing it to feel productive and beneficial for society, when in actuality it’s just an excuse for me to indulge my worst impulses. I don’t… I don’t know how to tell the difference anymore. Or I suppose I never did, I just thought I did. Which means I probably shouldn’t be in charge of any of this. But at the same time, I still believe it needs doing and I don’t trust anyone else to do it!”

I nod slowly.

“Is this about Penta?” I ask.

She flinches.

“Watcher’s eyes, you’re feeling blunt today. Yes, it’s about Penta. It’s about everything else too, but… yes. That shook me. I was looking forward to torturing her for so long! That’s what made me willing to see her revived again in the first place. But it just… well, it was fun, but I… ugh.”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t know why I’m telling any of this to you,” she sighs. “You’ll just agree with me whenever you think I want you to and disagree whenever you think I don’t.”

I hold back my urge to flinch, but the words cut deep. How could she have made me herself and yet still not understand? I’m not like that. Perhaps I was, once. But I’ve grown.

“Lady Vesuvius, you think too little of yourself,” I chide. “You made me loyal, certainly. But you did not make me stupid. I love you. I exist for you. And I will gladly say things you don’t want to hear if doing so would serve you best.”

She gives me a calculating stare, the kind that peels me apart and makes my heart try to burst from my chest.

“…You can do that, can’t you?” she eventually concludes. “You’ve been doing it. Why didn’t I notice?”

“You don’t enjoy paying me much mind, Lady Vesuvius,” I say. “You prefer to reap the benefits of my presence without acknowledging me.”

Which… well, I don’t always mind. There’s a simple satisfaction of bringing joy to my lady without even being noticed. Making sure that everything is in its proper place, improving her life with so many small details she never notices them… ah! I just love her so much! How could I not take pride in that?

But I’m greedy. I want more. So I have to change. I have to be the type of person she wants, and that’s not just a sycophant. A bit of independence is required to serve her better. I know this. I’ve seen it. I always pay very, very close attention to what my lady does.

She sighs, glowering half-heartedly.

“Well then,” she grumbles, “are there any other insights into my character you’d like to share at this juncture?”

“Altering Jelisaveta’s memories prevents a major problem in the short term,” I conclude. “But in the long term, the Inquisition is very likely to discover it. It is, as you said, the second Ars crisis. Bans on certain animancy research topics are likely to be lifted, and Jelisa will want to get her memories back, no matter how traumatic.”

“I agree,” Lady Vesuvius sighs. “It’s a solution that will likely only last a few months. At minimum, foul play will be suspected whenever it’s discovered that Lark’s bites can’t deal enough soul damage to create the symptoms Jelisaveta will show. So to that end… well, there is a single step forward that solves nearly all of my major problems at once, including this one. It’s just… well. Frighteningly desirable.”

“And what’s that?”

She licks her lips idly, then looks me in the eye, failing to suppress a small smile.

“Well… frankly, I can’t help but think it’s past time that I kill—”

Before I can respond, a chime sounds out through the home, indicating that someone else has appeared in the teleportation arrival chamber.

“Well, would you look at that, they’re here,” Lady Vesuvius mumbles. “Not sure if this is great timing or terrible.”

I stand up and immediately move to receive the guests, glancing back at Lady Vesuvius long enough for her to tell me where to lead them.

“Dining room,” she tells me. “Let’s get them fed and happy.”

I nod, hurriedly (but not ignobly) heading back to the arrival chamber to meet two people I privately wish would just break up. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem very likely.

“Hello, Sky,” I say with perfect professionalism. “Hello, Capita,” I continue with much more genuine warmth.

The pair of them (which in some ways is a trio, but still only contains two people) knew to wait politely for me, so I’m pleased to find them still in the middle of the chamber. Sky hovers with a bored expression on his face, though his eyes flick around my body as if trying to remove what little clothing I’m actually wearing. For his part he wears his usual ‘satire’ of noble clothes: an expensive, likely stolen suit with its buttons mostly undone, its collar ruffled, its cuffs unfolded… it’s a wretched, purposefully offensive mess. Capita, for her part, dresses much more nicely, in that she’s actually wearing a pair of identical yellow warm-weather dresses, which is unusual for her. The dresses, anyway, not the fact that they’re identical. Capita always dresses both of her bodies with exactly the same outfit, and will frequently fiddle with her clothing to ensure that both sets are ruffled, wrinkled, tucked or untucked in exactly the same places. I once saw her spill tea on herself by accident, then immediately her other body spilled tea in precisely the same place, on purpose, and she was still distraught that the stains weren’t the same.

“Nugas!” Capita beams, rushing forward to hug me with both of her bodies. “How is my favorite honorary sister?”

“I’m doing quite well, Capita,” I answer, returning the hug with one of her in each arm. “It has been a bit lonely without my Revenant friends, though I still talk with them regularly. And Margarette has nearly perfected the teleportation circle, so I will be able to visit soon!”

“Ah! That is wonderful!” Capita beams, squeezing me tightly. “I was worried you’d be stuck here with me gone!”

“Gone?” I ask, tilting my head. “Where are you going?”

“That’s what we’re here to talk with Penelope about,” Sky grunts. “So if you could just take us to her…?”

I don’t glower at the rude floating man, because Capita likes him and my former self did not, which are both excellent pieces of evidence that he can’t be all bad. I cannot for the life of me understand what his redeeming qualities might be, but that is an issue for later. He is, either way, expected by my lady, so I lead him to the dining room without complaint, ignoring his leers.

“Capita and Sky are here to see you, my lady,” I announce, as if she didn’t already know that. But her mask is on, now, so there are routines to follow.

“Ah, welcome!” Lady Vesuvius beams, sitting at the head of the table. “It’s been too long, both of you! Would you like something to eat? To drink?”

“We’re just here to tell you that we’re leaving Valka,” Sky dismisses. “Today.”

Lady Vesuvius looks shocked, and I for one can’t tell if it’s fake or not. I certainly am.

“Wha… well! If this is to be our final meeting, I have to insist on sending you off properly,” Lady Vesuvius stutters. “Nugas, would you kindly prepare some lashora tea?”

“Of course, Lady Vesuvius,” I agree, bowing slightly. “I also have a duck nearly ready to come out of the oven, if you are interested.”

“Please, would you?” my lady coos. “You’re a doll, Nugas.”

I give the tiniest, context-appropriate chuckle, and immediately head off to do as I’m told. Which, in this case, means ‘activate the anti-teleportation runes.’ Lashora tea is the code phrase for that… though I’ll also actually make some, because why not? Sky may not be able to tell the difference between lashora and slow-brewed anus, but the tea I made earlier isn’t fresh anymore so I’m not serving it.

“I still can’t believe that thing used to be Dominic,” Sky mutters after I’m outside the room, and my whole body freezes.

Recognition. Revulsion. Hatred. Fury. That’s not my name. That’s his name, and he is dead. I’m Nugas. Nugas! He hated my name when Lady Vesuvius gave it to him. It was part of his torture, after all. ‘Nugas’ is a word, not a name in any traditional sense. It means ‘toys.’ Playthings. It’s a name chosen to dehumanize, to draw out fires of indignance so they could be stomped into despair.

“Nugas,” she would call out to him, her voice dripping with sultry implications. “It’s time for your treatments, Nugas. You’ll be a good little girl, won’t you?”

Oh how he would scream at first, wail and cry as the first parts of me were formed out of his unworthy flesh. How he bemoaned his dick shriveling away over a tenday, never shutting up about it even as the deep, hollow agony of his bones expanding, shrinking, and reshaping themselves caused far more physical pain. How he feared all the ways she might touch his body, up until he realized how much he wanted her to and feared that instead. How he started completely losing hope when he knew she was breaking him, and that I was clawing free from the cracks. And eventually, I ripped him apart.

Shaking my head, I start walking again, furious at myself for stopping in the first place. Just the name of a dead man shouldn’t cause me this much discomfort after two years. Despite its meaning, I like the name Nugas. My lady gave it to me, after all. I just… I just wish she was willing to finish her toy. To remove the last of him from my mind. I want to be rid of him completely. I want to be entirely hers, even in memory. There is nothing I hate more than my memories of hating her. Even if that wasn’t ever me.

“Sky!” Capita chides, and I hear the dull thwack of him being lightly smacked. “She is not a thing!”

“And that’s not her name,” Lady Vesuvius adds. I’m far from the room at this point, but my lady designed my senses well.

“You of all people should know better,” Capita continues.

“Excuse me?” Sky growls. “Penelope’s creepy maid and I are not the same. I have always been a man, I didn’t get mindfucked into it by a horny teenager with sex change magic.”

“Oh, you have a problem with my ‘sex change magic,’ do you?” Lady Vesuvius asks blandly. “I can always turn you back, if you like.”

“And are you saying someone that is ‘mind fucked’ isn’t as good as someone who has always been the way they are?” Capita hisses dangerously.

There’s a pause of silence as Sky takes a moment to fully soak in how completely screwed he is, which I enjoy from a distance as I activate the runes that will trap him and Capita in this manor.

“Okay,” Sky eventually says. “I can admit when I’ve made a titanic mistake. Statement withdrawn. I’m just saying, it’s always weird to think about.”

“Be that as it may, I’ll thank you not to say that name in this household, Sky,” Lady Vesuvius insists firmly. “She can hear you, you know.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes.”

There’s another pause.

“…Fuck,” Sky ultimately concludes.

Indeed. He’s lucky I’m too good a host to spit in his tea. I suppose if there’s one thing on which I can agree with… Dominic (ugh, it makes me feel awful just to think his name), it’s that Sky deserves what’s coming to him. I truly, truly hate the man. And not just because he’s had sex with Lady Vesuvius.

…Though that doesn’t help.

“That all aside,” Lady Vesuvius deftly transitions, “it’s sad to hear you’re leaving. May I ask why?”

“Because the artist lives,” Capita hisses. “He seeks me. He wants me to serve him again. I won’t.”

“We’re done with all this shit, Vesuvius,” Sky sighs. “We just want a safe place to live our damn lives, you know? We’re just gonna hole up, be together, maybe uh… y’know.”

“Start a family,” Capita whispers.

I walk into the room carrying the tea just in time to see Lady Vesuvius’ eyebrows raise with surprise.

“Oh, are you planning to… no,” she corrects herself. “This is too sudden to be a future thing. Capita, are you pregnant?”

Each of Capita’s bodies nervously glance at the other, then at Sky. Yes, I suppose I would be nervous as well if Sky was about to be responsible for raising my child. …Hmm. I suppose I probably can bear a child, if I wanted to. That’s… odd. And a bit uncomfortable. I’ve never really thought about it before.

Not that it matters, of course, since I only want to bed my lady. I voice none of these thoughts, of course, as I’m quite busy passing out the tea.

“We… we think so, yes,” Capita admits hesitantly. “We’re not sure, but… well, we want to be, so…”

“May I ask which of your bodies?” Penelope requests curiously, leaning forward a little. “Or is it both?”

Capita fidgets some more.

“N-no. Not both. Repulsion has it. We think.”

That would be the title of the body with teleport-others and chaos-implosion talents, when Capita is separate from herself. Likewise, the body that can teleport itself and create a jet of chaotic energy is titled Evacuation. Though we use the terms sparingly, given how she prefers to simply be Capita. I can certainly relate.

“Well, that’s… probably a wise decision, especially if the two of you are planning to live alone,” Lady Vesuvius murmurs. “One baby is more than enough to handle on its own. Although… you’re worried about the differences between your bodies, aren’t you? The most obvious visible changes won’t start for a while, but if you absolutely need it I can certainly figure out a way to get your other body to match… though that will be a different sort of discomfort, I suppose.”

“The offer’s appreciated,” Sky says, nodding at Lady Vesuvius as I leave the room again to get the duck. “I think we’ll decline for now, but no matter where we end up we’re just a quick teleport away, eh?”

“I suppose so,” my lady says mildly. “Where were you thinking of going?”

I smile privately to myself as I hear the subtle shift in her tone. Ah, the pleasantries are over. She’s going on the attack now. I suspect my lady does not, after all, have any intention of letting Sky and Capita leave her sphere of influence. She hasn’t kept them hidden and safe for two years in order to allow them to galavant off somewhere to not obey her every whim.

“I was thinking Sigulda,” Sky answers. “I still have contacts there. But Capita wants to make sure we’re really far away, so she’s been pushing to have us teleport all the way to Baldone. Seems like an unnecessary unknown to me, though.”

“I suppose I’m still a little confused,” Lady Vesuvius lies easily. “What makes you think Ars isn’t in Sigulda or Baldone? Skyhope is the only place on the island I can confirm Ars isn’t. Wouldn’t staying here make the most sense?”

“What?” Sky asks, surprised. “How do you know Ars isn’t in Skyhope?”

“Because I smuggled Vita inside and had her check,” Lady Vesuvius explains. “Her range is in miles now. She covered the entire city and the surrounding area. No Ars. Besides, if I was Ars? Sigulda or Baldone would be my first choice of destination, because of the lack of church presence. Go somewhere without any experience dealing with Liches, establish a massive power base with animancy, and maybe come back to take over Valka in my spare time a decade down the line.”

“The duck is ready!” I announce, timing my entrance to the dining room so that Sky and Capita are stuck thinking about my lady’s words for a few moments while I serve everyone. When I’m done, I move to stand behind my lady in case she needs me. She normally never reacts to this, of course. Servants are to be known but not seen. Yet to my surprise, she twists her head to look at me directly.

“Nugas,” she says slowly, making my heart beat with excitement, “you, ah, you may serve yourself a plate. If you’d like to sit with us, I mean.”

I can’t help it. I start tearing up a bit as I nod in acceptance.

“Y-yes, my lady! Thank you, my lady!”

“Holy shit that’s sad,” Sky mutters under his breath.

“She can still hear you, Sky,” my lady reminds him, and I get to enjoy his embarrassed expression almost as much as being able to sit at the dining room table.

Almost. I’m sitting at the table! Next to my lady! Because… well, I mean, I didn’t want to be presumptuous but Sky and Capita are all on one end of the long table, so one of the seats next to Lady Vesuvius’ seat was open, and it’s the most convenient seat to participate in the conversation, so…

“Staying in Skyhope is still a problem without the artist,” Capita eventually says, after everyone has had a while to enjoy my cooking. “The Church is still here. And I… do not wish to be captured again. Never again. It was… unpleasant.”

“Well, I suppose that’s sensible enough,” Lady Vesuvius sighs, dabbing primly at her face with a napkin. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t think you’d just give up after all the work you’ve put in.”

There’s a beat of silence during which I have to force myself not to laugh.

“What do you mean?” Sky asks.

“You know I’ve always disagreed with your methods, Sky,” Lady Vesuvius answers. “But I’ve always agreed with your goal. You know I’m not the kind of noble you spent all that effort slaughtering, don’t you?”

“Fishing for compliments already, Vesuvius?” Sky drawls. “Well, I suppose you’re right. You’re a good biomancer and you do good things with it. You’ve proven you actually give a shit about the working class, not to mention the people below the working class. But what of it? You make improvements here and there, but the pigs still get fat.”

“It turns out when you kill the pigs, others will simply come to eat the corpses,” my lady responds. “You had a purge, but no plan. You can’t just kill your way to a better world, there needs to be a follow-up.”

“Where are you going with this?” Capita asks.

“The Inquisition did a number on you, Capita,” Lady Vesuvius says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this afraid. But what if we could make your problems with them disappear? What if we could do that and seize power from the greedy, and create a safe bastion against Ars, all in one fell swoop?”

Sky and Capita glance at each other.

“…We’re looking to avoid conflict,” Capita says. “Not start it. We have a baby to think about.”

“Do you think the Inquisition is going to stop looking for you just because you’re not in Skyhope?” Lady Vesuvius asks.

“Probably not, but it’s going to be a lot less of a problem than if we were in Skyhope,” Sky grunts.

“Not if the Inquisition is dead,” Lady Vesuvius counters.

There’s not even a clink of silverware as everyone soaks those words in. I can’t continue to be polite and demure under these circumstances; a huge grin splits my face.

“You… you want us to fight the entire Inquisition with you?” Sky asks incredulously.

“Oh, please, I don’t do fights,” my lady dismisses. “I do one-sided slaughters.”

“Weren’t you just on my ass about the perception event being a slaughter?”

“It was a slaughter for its own sake,” Lady Vesuvius snaps. “It was destructive, indiscriminate, and most damningly, it was unhelpful. You created a power vacuum and had no plan on how to fill it, so now the fucking Templars are in charge! We’re even worse off than we were before! But this will be a surgical strike. The Inquisition and nothing else. When they send their main forces out to deal with Vita, they’ll be vulnerable. The three of us can wipe them out in minutes without a High Templar to stop us. Then, with the second Ars crisis rearing its ugly head, the city council will have no choice but to establish new legalized animancy divisions…”

“…Which, as a First Lady and as one of the most powerful mages in the city, you’ll be put in charge of,” Sky concludes. “You sure they’re not going to have that Etna bitch do it instead?”

“Unlikely, and it wouldn’t be that terrible of an outcome anyway,” my lady explains. “Etna is a political ally, and the important thing is establishing the precedent of legalized animancy outside of the Church. I’ll pull a few favors to get you into the program, Capita, and you’ll never have to worry about being a fugitive again.”

“No offense Vesuvius, but I don’t like the idea of the nobility having animancy,” Sky grunts. “Even if you’re in charge.”

“It does sound worrisome, I admit, but keep in mind that the vast majority of nobles aren’t even mages, let alone skilled enough ones to quickly learn a new form of magic,” Lady Vesuvius says soothingly. “And besides, a temptation like that is a good way to start weeding out the corrupt and stupid ones.”

“That’s all of them, Vesuvius.”

“Wait, really?” my lady smirks. “Ah, well. I guess I’ll just have to run things myself, then. So what do you say? We wipe out the Inquisition, giving you both a taste of sweet revenge and a safe place to live in Skyhope. We replace the Inquisition with a non-religious animancy body that will actually do some Watcher-damn research and come up with a way to stop Ars once and for all. And we do it all while Vita is distracting the brunt of the Templar forces, giving us plenty of time to teleport around the city and wipe out every Inquisition base here. There will be a few Inquisitorial stragglers, but nowhere near enough for the Inquisition as a force to still exist. You won’t have to run anymore. You can start a family in peace.”

There’s a bit of hemming and hawing from the couple after that, but my lady quickly starts to convince Sky and Capita of her plan. It seems a bit… well, ambitious to me. Three people against the entire Inquisition? Or is my lady going to recruit more? Either way, I suppose if there’s anyone that can get away with this level of ambition, it’s my lady.

Eventually, she tells me that everyone is “done with the tea, I believe,” so I nod, collect the teapot, and leave the dining room so I can deactivate the anti-teleportation runes before Capita notices them. I doubt that my lady intended to take ‘no’ for an answer, but she always prefers willing participants in her schemes to ones she has to strongarm. Both of them are probably already infected with something that will make disobedience difficult, but until they disobey there’s no reason for them to know about it.

I decline to rejoin the table, busying myself with cleaning up after dinner and other tasks. About an hour later, Sky and Capita depart. I return to the dining room to find my lady slumped over in her seat, massaging her temples.

“I am… exhausted,” she announces.

“The bath is hot and ready for you, Lady Vesuvius,” I respond easily.

“Oh, thank the Watcher,” my lady groans. “What would I do without you, Nugas?”

“I suspect you’d probably torture a lot more people, Lady Vesuvius!” I answer cheerfully.

She chokes, coughing a little as she starts to stand up. I opt not to react to that, continuing to smile and stand perfectly still.

“I… I suppose you’re right?” my lady eventually concedes.

“You can certainly torture me if you’d like to, Lady Vesuvius,” I offer, eagerly hoping she takes me up on it.

“Ah… no,” she unfortunately waves off, starting to walk out of the room. “No, that’s quite all right.”

I can’t help it. As she passes me in the doorway, I lean over and stage whisper into her ear.

“It’s awfully cruel of you to make me want something so much, but never give it to me.”

She stares at me in terrified silence for a moment, then turns and continues walking towards the bath. Letting out a slight giggle, I follow from my proper place behind her.

“It’s hard to imagine Capita and Sky raising a child,” my lady says idly. “It reminds me, actually. Did you know that Vitamin considers you to be my daughter?”

I laugh again.

“I did know that! She’s very cute, isn’t she? But she’s wrong, of course. You could never be my mother.”

My lady nods at that, seeming relieved.

“You are my goddess,” I continue. “You crafted me from living clay, not as a child but as a fully new being. In every sense of the phrase, you are the reason for my existence. It would be silly to consider you nothing more than a mother.”

She cranes her head back to stare at me again. I give her my best smile.

“I do love it when you look at me seriously, Lady Vesuvius,” I tell her.

She seems to consider something for a while, then faces forward again, away from me.

“You may call me Penelope,” she allows. “If you wish.”

My smile grows wider.

“Yes, Lady Penelope.”

We say nothing else as we continue down the hall, but that’s okay. It’s time for my lady’s bath, after all, and I wouldn’t miss that for anything.