Vigor Mortis

Chapter 144: Heresy

“Well then, everyone!” I announce, drawing attention to myself with a single clap of my hands. “Are we all ready to purge some heretics?”

Sky and Capita level unamused looks at me, presumably out of some combination of stress and stupidity. My joke is hilarious, obviously, because the three of us are going to wipe out the Inquisition, an organization dedicated entirely to hunting and stopping heretics of our particular persuasion, but are themselves heretics of precisely that persuasion. It’s an amusing reversal on the usual heretic-purging-heretic dynamic. Nugas titters amiably, at least, but feeling satisfied about that also pushes up a well of self-revulsion that burns like a hemorrhaged stomach lining.

Oh well. We’re in too deep for self-doubt now. I can lament my terrible decisions in a few hours, after I’ve slaughtered nearly a hundred of my own city’s people.

“So it’s time then?” Sky asks bluntly, rising up from where he’s been lounging on my couch with a languid, telekinetic shift of position. It’s hard not to appreciate his strength and grace, even with how awful his personality happens to be.

“It is indeed,” I confirm. “The Templar army has left the city, Galdra and Arden with them. I was just informed by Margarette that Vita has left to meet them on the field of battle. Our window is open. Let us make Skyhope a more welcoming place to all of us, hmm?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Sky grunts. “But Vesuvius… if I find out you’ve just been fucking with us after this, I’ll make you pay and damn the consequences. You understand?”

Ugh, there it is. What a simpleton. Does he really think I need to be told that he’ll be angry with me if I betray him? Oh, boo hoo. Of course, I do intend to betray him, since he’s a terrorist and a serial murderer and Vita doesn’t like him. Capita will also have to die as a result, or else she’ll try to avenge him, but with luck I can collect their bodies and souls to give as a gift to Vita when we see each other next. They can be happy together in the afterlife while simultaneously being far less of a loose end. If not for the baby I think I’d be morally in the clear regarding murdering them, at least from an optics point of view, but the thing about the baby is that I just don’t care. It doesn’t even have a working brain yet, and this will hardly be the first abortion I perform.

Still, as inane as as his comment is, I do still have to address it. Let’s see… deflect with humor, reassure with logic? No, he’s not a logical sort of man. Reassure with emotion.

“Is this your way of announcing you intend to move to a closed relationship due to your child?” I answer smoothly. “Well, it will be a shame to stop fucking the both of you regardless of the reason, but I respect your decision. You have beautiful things to look forward to after this one last hurrah, and I hope you spend it however best suits you.”

He glowers at me, as if trying to find the tell which will show him the lie or truth to my words. Please. I fool people with sensory talents, not to mention literal empaths, on a daily basis. More importantly, I haven’t given him any reason to believe I’m interested in permanently silencing the man. We’ve been nothing but amicable for years now.

One might wonder, therefore, why he’s choosing now of all times to threaten me and treat me with suspicion, but this is more or less how Sky is all the time.

“There is no need for this,” Capita chastises, patting him reassuringly on the arm with one hand while her other hand holds her third hand from her second body. Goodness, that sure is the kind of sentence that tends to exist when Capita is around. “You are stressed. Do not be grumpy at spiky bubbles.”

Sky pouts the way he usually does when Capita calls him out on being a moron, which I have to admit always makes me smirk a little. I can’t deny they’re good at managing each other’s flaws. There’s a certain appeal to that. I often worry Vita enables me too much, but I can hardly blame her for my own failings. The solution to my problems is not to have someone constantly there to call me out on them, it’s simply to be better.

“I take it you’re both ready, then?” I ask pleasantly.

“Of course we’re fucking ready, this is what we’ve been waiting around here for,” Sky grumbles. “Let’s do this.”

“May we scour the unwanted monsters from the world,” Capita agrees happily, holding out her hands for Sky and I to take. I almost do, before remembering there’s one more thing I should see to.

“Ah… Nugas?” I ask her. “Stay in contact with Margarette, would you? If I’m not back in the next few hours, help her finish the teleporter and abandon this place. I don’t want you to be stuck here alone.”

“Of course, my lady,” she answers, bowing. “Though please try to stay alive. I doubt I can handle being broken a second time.”

Suppressing a shudder, I nod and take Capita’s hand.

“I’ll do my best, Nugas,” I assure her, and then we’re somewhere else entirely.

I must admit, I am endlessly jealous of Capita’s teleportation talent. The kinds of things I could do with instant, variable-range trivial-cost group teleportation just… gah! It’s wasted on this woman, though I suppose that’s hardly her fault. Ars saw something valuable, took it before anyone else could, and then played with it until it broke. It’s a shame, but I can hardly lament something so far outside my control.

The three of us appear just outside one of the temples with an inquisitorial branch underneath it. We’re dressed in fully concealing clothing, although this is entirely for my benefit; Sky and Capita’s talents will be easily identified by any witnesses, and the odds of not leaving at least one witness during the day are next to none. It’s necessary, however: the temples are warded against teleportation, meaning we have no choice but to appear outside and have Sky make us a door to our destination. He does so, flying directly through the outer wall as if it was made of sand, and the operation begins.

Inquisitorial branches are, by tradition, created underneath main temples, barracks, and other such areas. I’ve been having Lyn stalk and record the movements of Inquisitors for months, cataloging every publicly known and secret Inquisitorial base in the city. We move quickly towards the first one, entering the temple and letting Sky plunge a hole in the floor as Capita and I combine our talents. Specifically, I create a heavy concentration of brutally efficient airborne diseases and purposefully allow Capita to suck them into her concentrated air blast. When Sky returns from the new tunnel to the Inquisitorial branch, Capita fires the plague bomb.

Descending down to the top floor of the inquisitorial base, it explodes, spreading deadly, invisible miasma throughout the area. Infected individuals will die rapidly and painlessly, their hearts failing after a few breaths. The infection won’t self-replicate, and after an hour or so it will be entirely gone. A handful of Inquisitors out on field duty or taking the day off will survive, but otherwise this entire base will very shortly be dead. The weight of the disease particles themselves should prevent it from going upstairs and killing non-targets, but I suspect there will be a few unwanted casualties one way or another. We produce and fire a few more plague bombs at varying depths while Sky creates holes in other parts of the base, where we repeat the process a few times before teleporting away to hit the next location less than a minute later.

In many ways, things are relatively quiet on Capita’s and my end. Sky suffers the brunt of Templar resistance, and even when he comes back injured by the odd thermomancer or kynamancer that gets a potshot in before going down, it’s never severe. Our plan is quite elegant in its simplicity, after all: speed is our ally, and while each base we hit is better prepared than the last as word of an attack arrives before we do, the majority of combat-capable Templars are still much too far away to turn around, trudge back through the forest, and intercept us. So far, everything is going to plan.

There are, of course, downsides and risks to this plan. Killing the Inquisitors with a plague runs the obvious risk of getting me implicated. I’m confident that the evidence to prove I was involved won’t extend farther than ‘they were killed with a disease and that is Lady Vesuvius’ talent,’ but after my stunt two years ago it’s highly plausible that a number of unscrupulous biomancers have started looking into disease-based offensive techniques, particularly Siguldan biomancers, which should make for an extremely effective scapegoat. Will the Church believe my lies? No, almost certainly not. Will they be able to disprove them in a court of law? Also almost certainly not. And they’ll know that. This still puts me at a major disadvantage as it destroys a lot of the political goodwill I’ve acquired, but if I do not expend it then for what reason did I acquire it?

All of that goes out the window, of course, if I am caught red-handed. Then the game is up. So Sky’s aggression and Capita’s mobility are key to this plot. Without a High Templar waiting in the wings, we should be too fast and too powerful to counter. And if some High Templar is around, we can simply escape. It’s not a foolproof plan, but I’m confident it’s good enough to come out on top.

I just need to be able to improvise against whatever unexpected problem will inevitably appear out of nowhere. There are, fortunately, hardly any people capable of reliably avoiding the threat of my diseases… and Vita is distracting all of them.

As things continue to go according to plan, the slaughter of unsuspecting Inquisitors starts to feel awfully routine. I’m not personally involved in much of the nitty-gritty; I just craft my plagues and let them wistfully drop down into freshly-bored holes before being blasted through the air, into the eyes, nostrils, and lungs of dozens of animancers. We are quick, we are thorough, and the corpses pile up faster than any organized resistance against us does. In less than ten minutes, Capita, Sky, and I have done it. Every target area has been cleared out. I estimate over eighty Inquisitors have fallen against either my disease or Sky’s brute offensive, slightly less than expected but more than enough to accomplish my goal as long as Vita doesn’t die fighting Galdra or Arden. Well, die permanently, I mean. Either way, we’re done here. I nod at Capita and Sky, making the hand sign for extraction. I haven’t spoken since starting this operation because of the aforementioned risk of witnesses.

They glance at each other, nod, and take my hand. We disappear, but we don’t reappear in my home. Or, to my knowledge, anywhere near it. Stone walls and flooring frames a modest living room, complete with a couch, a fireplace, and various expensive bits of furniture. My initial assumption is that I’m now in a modest home in the rich district, though the sounds outside indicate we may not be in Skyhope at all.

Well then. It would appear that I am being betrayed. That’s… somewhat of an inconvenience.

A bubble of indignant fury starts simmering in the back of my mind at the sheer indignity of being betrayed by Sky before I could betray him, but now is not the time for indulgences. I’ll need to gather as much information as I’m able before killing Sky and Capita. I doubt they intend to kill me, after all; they wouldn’t have brought me here if they were just going to blast my head off and be done with it, and they should know they have no way to contain the plagues my corpse would unleash. As I open my mouth to inquire about their goals, however, a door behind me opens, and a very unexpected individual makes an entrance that, ironically, chills me to my bones.

“Well hello there, Vesuvius,” Galdra the Annihilator drawls, air quivering around her as the stone below her feet glows red. “Nice place, isn’t it?”

I don’t respond, instead sending every heat-resistant plague I’ve designed directly at her. All of them are incinerated, not even a single cell of disease reaching her body through the blistering heat that hovers around her skin. Shit. Thermomancy is not, traditionally, a school of magic known for its defense. Only at absurdly high levels of power can practitioners freeze the air into shields of ice, and using fire to block attacks seems inherently absurd… until you reach a level of utter ridiculousness where you can wrap your body in enough heat to incinerate anything that gets close without burning yourself in the process.

Galdra’s magic resistance is too high, so I can’t create diseases directly inside her body. I can cause airborne plagues to spontaneously appear around her body, but the problem with heat-resistant things, plagues or otherwise, is that there is only a certain level of ‘resistance’ that can exist. They say a dragon’s scales can be dipped in molten stone without so much as warming up, but Galdra doesn’t just turn rocks to liquid, she turns them into gas. Nothing physical is going to get through her shield intact, and certainly nothing biological.

What other options are available to me? I could try to brute force her magic resistance, but she’d be able to feel that and would have time to kill me if I started to succeed. That makes all animancy I know useless. The kynamancy spells I know are purely for subtlety, and any kineticism I attempt runs into the problem of magic resistance or heat shield, same as my plagues. Hmm… her annihilation barrier is being kept so close to her body it prevents me from creating plagues in some hypothetical air pocket between the shield and her body. This is bad, but it presents an opportunity in that a large enough object, moving with enough force, could potentially make contact with her before being destroyed and successfully confer momentum. I’m not close enough to use my own body for the task, but with kineticism I could—

“Stop channeling or you die,” Galdra barks. “Make any movements other than verbal responses, and you die.”

Flames spring up in a box around me and I go still. Shit! Slowly, I start performing a cancel command, making sure she can see it so she thinks I’m following her orders. On the inside, however, I use my internal casting organs to—agh!

I cry out as a sudden burst of heat removes one of my fingers from existence. Galdra isn’t in her armor, for whatever reason, dressed instead in civilian clothes. This allows me to see her sneer.

“I didn’t say cancel it. Stop channeling now, or you die. Three. Two.”

Fuck! I do as she says, letting the mana in my belly detonate in a violent burst of chaos magic. I guide the blast as best I can so that it sprays in a single direction, violently ejecting most of one kidney and a significant chunk of my internal casting system into the walls of fire around me, which turn them to ash. I grit my teeth to choke down a scream, as while my self-modifications are extensive enough to likely let me survive this without actively casting on myself, I need a spell to shut off the excruciating pain. Capita gasps in surprise and horror at the display, but of course she doesn’t move to help me, the complete bitch. I redouble my glare at her as I lean over to try and hold the rest of my organs in.

“There we go, that’s much better,” Galdra laughs as I glare up at her scarred face. “I was hoping you were smart enough to follow orders, Vesuvius. I’m disappointed you went straight for the throat rather than bantering, of course, but also begrudgingly impressed.”

I ignore her, my attention focused on my former comrades. Seeing mixed expressions on Capita and Sky’s faces, I can’t help but let a little anger spill over. Are they feeling sorry for me? I’m still going to kill them, but since I can’t do it now I have to at least salt their wounds.

“You fucking traitors,” I hiss, pouring all my vitriol into the words. “I was going to help you. You wouldn’t even have that child if not for me!”

“I would not have a lot of things if not for monsters,” Capita answers quietly. “The sister you made us brings us joy. But we will never, ever forgive you for her creation.”

“Is this seriously about Nugas!?” I snap at her.

“Sky,” Galdra snaps, pulling out a metal collar. He floats forward and takes it from her, and I grind my teeth in frustration as the front of my flame cage opens up to let him levitate it around my throat, snapping it shut. There are things I could try to prevent this, ways I could potentially get out of it. But all of them involve pitting myself in a battle of speed and reflexes against Galdra the Annihilator, who drastically outstrips me in combat experience… and I do not doubt her death threats for a moment. Risking my own life simply isn’t a gamble I’m willing to take. As long as I live, however, I can wait for a better opportunity.

“I assume this is one of those collars that will knock me unconscious if I channel mana?” I choke out, precious blood still seeping through my fingers. It’s not a lethal wound, but it’s a very serious one, even for me.

“Of course not,” Galdra grunts. “It paints all four walls of this room with your brain if you channel mana. Blows your entire damn head to bits. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

I open my mouth to respond, but she lifts a finger to cut me off.

“No, shut up,” she orders. “It’s a rhetorical question. Of course you think I’m an idiot, because you are a narcissistic, sociopathic, little upstart cunt who thinks everyone in the world is a fool compared to you. Your precious little ego can’t handle the idea of someone annoying and brash being smart. But while you were having fun winning hearts and minds and being Skyhope’s little genius, I let you forget that I’ve been at the end of that road longer than you’ve been alive, and I’m better at walking it.”

“We’re leaving now,” Sky announces.

Galdra sends him a look that contains the slightest hint of fury before she schools it back to amused glee.

“Of course,” she allows. “And as we agreed, you will not be followed.”

“Really?” I growl at him. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

“I like you more than her, Vesuvius,” Sky admits, shrugging. “But I trust you less.”

“Embrace your love for me, if you are still able,” Capita says softly. “Goodbye, oh artist of flesh.”

The two of them vanish, leaving me seething. Galdra chuckles, leaning a bit closer to taunt me.

“They read you like a book, didn’t they?” she taunts. “You wouldn’t be this mad, otherwise.”

“What the fuck are you even doing here, Galdra?” I spit back at her.

“Oh, nothing much,” she coos, grinning as she paces around my burning prison. “I just heard you had a very well-thought-out plan to destroy and replace the Inquisition and I thought to myself ‘hey, that’s pretty great idea!'”

The old woman’s scarred face breaks out in a mad grin that reminds me just a bit too much of what I’ve seen in mirrors. Leaning down close, the heat of her spell scours the mask from my face in a painful burst of fire right before she whispers to me.

“So I decided to take it.”

I refrain from outwardly emoting, even as I feel her flames scar my face.

“A High Templar wants to lead the Inquisition?” I ask flatly. “And here I thought sin was generally considered a bad thing among the devout.”

“Ah, well, that’s the thing,” Galdra drawls, returning to pacing about the room. “The Mistwatcher is god. And I’ve always considered it my duty as a Templar to make sure that god stays happy. And while the scriptures insist that ‘ol Misty isn’t very happy with animancers, I can’t help but notice that there’s zero recorded instances of a perception event occurring as a result of animancy. It sure looks from the outside that the Watcher doesn’t really care.”

I allow myself a slight smirk, even as pain shoots through my face as a result of my fresh wounds.

“Why Galdra, are you perchance claiming that the scriptures may have been written by human hands and do not actually represent the divine commandments of a higher being?”

“I’m saying,” Galdra presses, “that it’s noteworthy because there are things the Mistwatcher does care about. Flight. Mass graves. Metal. It’s hard to predict when these things will cause a perception event, but it’s not impossible to predict. There’s a method to the madness, even if we haven’t fully cracked it. But there is one type of perception event, the rarest type, that always warrants a response: altitude. Fly above the highest islands, and you get smote for that hubris. Every. Single. Time. And when you think about it, that’s the common denominator: the only thing the Mistwatcher really cares about is that we stay here. It wants us to prosper, to grow, and to die all on these little islands. And that bothers me, because any time someone tells me not to go somewhere it means that there’s something there.”

Pursing my lips, I keep my tone neutral.

“An interesting theory,” I admit. “Though I’m afraid I don’t see how metal is at all related to whether or not we continue to stick around and generate souls.”

“Ah, yes, the soul-eating thing you and your girlfriend believe,” Galdra muses, tapping her chin. “Honestly, it’s an interesting idea. You really might be onto something, but I haven’t been an animancer long enough to have an informed opinion on the matter. Metal, though… ah, I forget you’re young and ignorant. Let’s just say that if you saw the thing that made Skyhope Crater, you’d understand. Shame we took it apart.”

Well. There’s… a lot to digest there, certainly. She knows of the relationship between Vita and myself, and through that it can be implied she knows everything Capita and Sky knows about us. But the most pressing and terrifying of all of them demands my attention before I can dig into the problematic implications.

“You already know animancy,” I breathe, not needed to feign my increasing horror. “That’s why I’m being kept alive.”

“Oh, don’t sound so scared, you big baby,” Galdra sneers. “From what I hear, I’m pretty sure you deserve what I’m about to do to you. If you’re a good girl, I might even heal your wounds when I’m done.”

She steps forwards, her hands moving in a spell pattern I recognize to mounting terror. If she just gets close enough I might be able to physically overpower her, but she’s not even planning to touch me. She has power in spades, and can likely burn through my magic resistance even from a distance. What should I do? I can’t just let myself end up as a sniveling slave!

“Now I’m not totally heartless, Vesuvius,” Galdra drawls, magic clawing into my soul as her spell completes. “You have your out. If you’d rather die, just start to channel, or use that metal you have implanted in your body, and that’ll be the end of you. I can respect that, you know? Preferring to live by your principles than see yourself warped into something you hate.”

I need a plan to deal with this, some way to bring myself back from the brink. Animancy is not flawless, and Galdra is a relatively new user of it. Whatever mistake she makes when she tries to reshape my soul, I’ll find it. I’ll grow myself anew. I won’t lose to this woman.

“Of course, I’m saying that almost entirely as a courtesy, because I know someone like you would never even consider killing herself,” Galdra continues smugly. “You love yourself so damn much you think you should be immortal so you can be in charge forever. You’re one of those annoying sorts of sociopaths that can’t really get how much better off the world would be without you. But hey, let’s try to fix some of that, shall we?”

“That… is unnecessary,” I hiss, resisting the urge to start casting something as the sneering woman invades the core of my being. “All of this is unnecessary. I can see what you’re capable of, I see that you’ve won. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

“Ah, but will you, though?” Galdra tsks. “Will you actually? Or will you try to be the clever little bitch you so desperately need to believe you are? In fact, how about we start there?”

Shit. Shit! Okay, I need more information. Disguise it as banter. Distract her. Form a plan of action.

“How did you even learn animancy, anyway?” I ask. “I feel like that’s the sort of thing they screen quite heavily for Templars.”

“Heh, that’s a funny story, actually,” Galdra chuckles. “So when I tried to kill that little godling runt, she apparently attached some shit to my soul that kept trying to gnaw away at me. The Inquisitors had to whip something up to remove them, and just… kept me in the room with them while they did all sorts of animancy experiments on me. It’s like they thought I couldn’t just watch their hands. Dumbasses.”

“Well, I imagine they didn’t expect you to betray their deity,” I comment dryly.

“Hey, I’m not betraying the Mistwatcher,” Galdra insists. “I’m betraying the fucking morons who think an appropriate response to another Ars crisis is to just hope whatever spells we already have are up to the task. I’m betraying the people who think they can just toss enough bodies at a necromancer Lich and solve the problem. Templar Command is corrupt, moronic, and cowardly. They are a problem that needs to be solved.”

“And you’re that solution?” I press.

She laughs.

“Nah, not really,” she shrugs. “I’m a wretched bastard and I know it. But someone has to actually kill Liches around here, and it’s not going to be that soft little vrothizo girl. Which is why you’re going to tell me everything you know about how to do that.”

“You called Vita a godling,” I point out. “Yet you want to kill her?”

“What part of anything I’ve ever said about gods makes you think I want another one?” Galdra asks. “Now talk, Vesuvius.”

Fuck. Okay. There’s two ways I could handle this. The first is to resist, of course; actively hold onto my willpower as much as possible and fight off Galdra’s influence with conscious effort. This offers the short-term benefits of stalling her for longer, but the long-term consequences of likely making her more thorough with her changes. The second option is to give the appearance of compliance, and fool her into seeming more under her control than I really am. Perhaps mixing the two a little so I can stall for Vita a while and ultimately ‘succumbing’ to animancy once ample time has passed for her to deal with the Templars already bothering her. That’s probably the ideal solution, but the main issue with it is… well, can I pull it off?

As much as it pains me to admit, I’ve been outmaneuvered. Galdra had been moving what I thought were my pawns all along. If she could see through my ruses—worse, if Sky could fool me for as long as he did—then what hope do I really have for beating her? It might be best to save myself the trouble of resistance and bank on cooperation being rewarded. She did seem to let Capita and Sky go, so if I just help her enough then perhaps I can… yes, that makes sense. I should just help her! Then I… no. No, wait!

“Watcher’s eyes,” I breathe. “Is this what it’s like?”

Galdra bursts out laughing.

“Holy shit!” she answers. “Wait, so after all the shit you’ve done to people, this is the first time anyone has cast animancy on you? Did you never even go in and fiddle around with your own soul, just to test things out?”

“I have not,” I admit, since it seems like a good idea to be honest here. No, wait! Fuck! Well, I mean, it was good to be honest there, but… gah!

“That’s fucking hilarious,” Galdra opines. “I, meanwhile, have been through decontamination dozens of times, and I know all sorts of fun little tricks. What works, what doesn’t. Ways to resist, ways to counter that resistance… oh yeah, they did it all to me. And I made sure to remember it.”

So I should probably give up hope, is what she’s saying. Honestly, at this point it doesn’t seem like terrible advice. I can already feel my thoughts slipping away from my goals and into whatever she wants. Although, when you get down to it, how valuable are my goals? The immortality is… well, that’s important. And I love Vita, I want to help her. But I…

I… wait. I love Vita. Right? I love her. I…

No. Every ounce of bravado I have left falls away in a single moment.

“Please stop,” I beg her. “Not my love. Don’t take that away.”

“Hmm, well, valid request, but I’m going to have to decline,” Galdra dismisses. “You’ll have a hard time telling me all of her weaknesses otherwise.”

I try to hold onto her image, the warmth of her acceptance, her gorgeous blue eyes. I try to bask in the joy of realizing she knew me, the refreshing amusement I find in her blunt nature, the memory of her skin against mine… but I realize with horror that I don’t know whether focusing on these things will make it harder or easier for Galdra to tear them away. And now that I’m thinking about it, fearing it, it becomes that much more difficult to look at our relationship and ignore the flaws. Has loving Vita truly done anything for me other than make me a worse person? I released Ars Rainier for fuck’s sake, and what have I gotten in return? More problems to clean up? More things to hide from the authorities? More unwanted knots in the delicate thread towards my future? I can take the mask off around her, but so what? I hate the person under the mask. Nugas proved that, and Nugas looks like her too!

“So, Vesuvius, what do you know about killing Liches?” Galdra asks soothingly.

“I…”

Words clog in my throat, terror and indignance warring from both sides. She makes me happy. I can’t forget she makes me happy. But is my happiness even worth it? Is it anything but another hedonistic indulgence to be purged? Yes. Yes, of course it is. Damn it, I’m being affected by animancy! Stop thinking about it! Think about anything else! Galdra is right there in front of me, I need to… I… I should help her? No! Fuck!

“What kind of bodies can Vita take?” Galdra asks.

“We’re… not sure,” I admit. This is an innocent enough question, after all. Fake cooperation. That was the plan, right? “We know Vita changed bodies once already, but it seemed to make her lose her memories.”

“Did she prepare that new body in advance?”

“We don’t know, but it’s unlikely,” I admit. Surely she already knew that.

“So can she just take any body?” Galdra asks. “Anywhere in the world?”

“Probably not,” I tell her, feeling the momentum build as I explain. It’s… oddly satisfying, in a way that most things aren’t. “She can probably only inhabit bodies within tentacle range—that’s about twelve feet—at her time of death. It’s possible she can extend this range by granting herself momentum somehow, but we have no reason to believe she’s capable of traveling at the speeds Ars is able to. Ars most likely uses magic of some kind to pull his soul into whatever prepared body he desires, but Vita has no such capabilities.”

“So we could just throw her off the island?” Galdra prompts.

“I believe that would get her out of our hair indefinitely, but it likely wouldn’t kill her in a permanent way. She might be able to survive such a fall, and if not it’s very possible she could simply possess her own body.”

“So she can make herself a Revenant?”

I nod happily, really starting to enjoy chattering about this. It’s nice! I normally don’t have anyone to talk to who’s both interested and not mind controlled by the subject in question.

“Oh yes, both living and dead bodies are likely to be possible for her to possess, though it’s highly probable that, if a corpse she is possessing is destroyed, that she will also be destroyed. Or at the very least, heavily damaged. If I were trying to kill Vita, the ideal way would be to do it twice: once by killing her body and forcing her to re-possess it, then again by completely annihilating that body while it is a Revenant. This should disintegrate most, if not all, of her soul.”

“Well, that’s good to know, thank you,” Galdra praises me. “While we’re at it, I’ve noticed the runt can disrupt targeted spells near her. Could you explain how that works?”

I nod and continue to blabber away, unnatural happiness bubbling inside me as I betray the only person I have ever truly loved. But what is love, if not just another irrational emotion? What are my emotions, if not cruel and evil things that drive me to hurt people? The world is better off this way. Eventually, Galdra seems satisfied with the extent of my answers. She puts her High Templar armor back on, binds me in chains, and locks me in the basement of this strange building before moving to leave.

“Galdra,” I call after her, my mind simultaneously fuzzier and clearer than I think it has ever been. “I’d be interested in continuing this, when you get back. I’ve always wondered if someone could modify my soul enough to make me a person.”

“Interesting idea,” the beautiful older woman admits. “But you’d have to ask someone else about that. I wouldn’t know what it’s like.”

She flies off, leaving me bored and alone. My new collar is still on, so I can’t even do any magic. Oh, well.

It was nice knowing Vita while it lasted.