Vigor Mortis

Chapter 93: Being Seen

After all the crap I’ve been getting lately about not looking at people, finally someone is looking at me. Two people, actually, and they feel the same way about the sight.

I feel very differently about each reaction, however.

The response from my Revenant is to be expected. They love me and they are in awe of me by nature. It is a comforting and happy feeling, one that makes me want to love them back. They are so pure, so pleasant, so mine. Vitamin is mine, my beautiful daughter for as long as she wishes to be. Margarette is mine, my sweet and earnest little genius. Theodora is mine, no matter how much she strays, and she will always have a place at my side whenever she desires it. Yes, I know I forced these feelings on them. Yes, I know that’s wrong, that’s fake, and that I will destroy anyone who tries to do the same to anyone I care about. But the artificial, forcibly imposed source of that affection doesn’t make them any less comforting to me. The disturbing implications are a secondary issue, one that contrasts but does not lessen the love. So ultimately, warmth and appreciation fill me when Margarette calls me beautiful, even though I can expect no less.

Yet when Penelope feels the same, that is… I don’t know what that is. I didn’t believe that she would look at me with anything more than the clinical, barely passing interest she tends to show every part of the reality I live when I describe it to her. She wants to be an animancer herself, a position that we both know is unlikely to be healthy or wise. Still, she strives for it, and to her my whole world was nothing but a stepping stone on her path to power.

Which I was okay with. She didn’t treat me like a freak or a monster, she didn’t tell the guard or the Templars. Instead she helped me cover for my mistakes, distracted the team when I ran over to grab every soul we slew, and saved my life over and over. She’s a callous bitch, but she’s my callous bitch. Not in the same way the Revenants are mine, but… things were okay. They were comfy. They were fine as they were.

I was sort of hoping they’d go back to that when Penelope saw me. I thought Penelope would take the same clinical stance as always, see how utterly inhuman I am, and fall out of love. ‘Ah yes, my friend Vita, the tentacle eyeball. Nevermind about trying to fuck that.’ Yet that is not what happened. When she peered past the shell I thought she loved and we actually locked eyes, her emotions actually magnified.

I don’t have the time to process any of this before she and Vitamin emerge from the side room after securing the man I brought. Immediately, she starts staring at me again. I can’t believe she’s staring at me. Actually at me. What do I do? In a moment of confused panic I break the stare-off by waving a tentacle her way.

An amused, twitching smile invades her expression and after only a brief delay she waves back. The moment passes, and so does the intense weight of her attention. She approaches, pulling a chair up next to me and sitting down, leaning forward so she’s eye-level not with my head, but the soul in my belly.

“So,” she says to me, carefully keeping the overwhelming emotion bubbling through her out of her voice. “Tentacle eyeball. I see what you mean about being similar to the Mistwatcher more than ever, now. So to say hello, do I, um…?”

She holds out a hand as if to shake. Hah. Didn’t I tell her before? I know I did. Still, I respond with an amused shrug and pass a tentacle through it.

“I can only touch myself and souls,” I say.

The disappointment in Penelope is real, yet she reacts as if she expected the answer. Already, she’s plotting something.

“So what allows you to touch yourself?” Penelope asks slowly. “It seems like an awfully arbitrary distinction. Your body is made of… hrm. Are you perhaps actually touching the veins of soul lining throughout your body?”

“No,” I explain, using my tendrils to poke around at some exposed skin. “I didn’t used to have those anyway. I’m definitely touching my body. Do you think there might be some way for me to touch other things?”

I ask the obvious question and feel her slide another piece of her plan into place. Damn it! She’s supposed to make plots for me, not about me! What is this for!?

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be possible,” Penelope confirms, “but I don’t have the faintest idea how it works. Certainly something to look into. Assuming you’d like to be able to touch other things, of course.”

I would. Of course I would. The less I have to rely on meat the better. I nod to tell her as such, and another piece falls into place for her. I… guess it’s okay if her plot revolves around helping me learn cool tentacle tricks?

“Well, I would be… more than happy to investigate and see if we can figure out a way to make that work,” Penelope offers. “As well as any other ideas you might have on… improvements. I can see that… your own plans for that body substantially outstrip my former ambition.”

I blink. Hmm. She’s back to normal. Okay, that’s good. Don’t know what she means, though.

“My plans?”

“You’re not… you’re not doing it on purpose,” she mumbles, mostly to herself. “Vita. You are far more than a natural animancer. This… what you’re doing to yourself, the eyes but also inside, it’s biomancy. You are changing yourself from within, far more than a normal human enhancing themselves via a powerful soul could manage.”

I frown, thinking about that. My initial reaction is to argue no, I’m just pulling myself around with my soul rather than my muscles mostly. But Penelope is a genius biomancer, and she probably knows what she’s talking about.

“What sort of things am I doing to myself?” I ask, not sure what I want her to say.

“Well, that’s the thing. A lot of it is fairly standard, like the natural improvements to durability I told you to expect eventually. A lot of the rest… I don’t know. It’s truly fascinating, I’ve never seen biomantic mana formations that look like this. They are biomancy, that much I can be certain of. The basic structure is comprehensible to me, but on a whole it is far more complicated than any spell I know. It’s a full-blown talent in its own right, a powerful one. Your body is doing something to itself and I don’t know what. But I am… certainly excited to find out. I would love to investigate, even help it along as much as I can if you want me to.”

“I guess whether or not I want it helped along depends on whether or not I like what it’s doing,” I hedge. “Could you not see this before the soul stuff?”

“Well, that’s the interesting part. These veins of soul flowing through your body, they are not just animantic faux musculature. They are mana channels, delivering your…”

She trails off for a moment, suddenly coming to the realization.

“Same color blue,” she mumbles to herself. “Would it make the atmosphere… no, there’s no way to test that, not without a kynamancer of impeccable precision.”

“Penelope, I don’t know what any of that means,” I answer, squirming uncomfortably. “Look, do you need me for anything right now? You guys figured out the soul sight spell and that’s cool. Does that mean you have any work for me to do or not?”

A flash of frustrated disappointment fills my friend but she shakes her head.

“You are welcome to go, we have plenty of biomancy problems to solve. Apologies for the fit of fervor, Vita. I just feel as though I certainly understand you a lot better. You are actually quite good at eye contact, aren’t you?”

I scratch my cheek with a tentacle, embarrassed despite myself.

“Well, it’s much easier to see emotions with my core pointed in the right direction,” I explain. “I can usually figure it out, but my directional soul sight is a lot more precise.”

“Yes… precise,” Penelope mutters to herself, eyes peering deeply within me.

I watch her stare as if at a gorgeous vista, like the awe I first felt when I gazed beyond the confines of Skyhope’s walls. She gazes as if seeing a world opening up, a beauty unlike anything her life had ever previously comprehended, and it’s at me. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this self-conscious before. She continues to stare until it’s finally too much for me to handle. Squirming and blushing, I cover my core in my own tentacles, using them as a writhing wall against further examination. This doesn’t seem to make Penelope any less interested, but it does make her snap out of her fugue and recognize my discomfort. I feel her chide herself immediately, a spark of self-directed fury passing in an instant before she primly smiles as if none of it happened.

“Well! This is truly an impressive spell,” she says, trying and failing to mask the source of her emotion, “but we should get back to work. Margarette, Theodora, we have much to plan. What are you going to do, Vita?”

“U-uh, um, I don’t know?” I stammer, still flustered, still hiding in my cocoon of tendrils.

“I know!” Vitamin announces happily. “Take me to see grandma and grandpa! Theodora and Margarette and Penelope finished my cool girl tats! I’m not going to be detected as a creepy magical construct! Probably.”

Penelope glances over my way with obvious disapproval, but Theodora shrugs.

“You’ll have to test it eventually,” the metamancer says, genuinely approving of taking the Revenant outside. “May as well get her some fresh air.”

Aw, she likes Vitamin! My little girl must have grown on her.

“Ugh, I wish I had my tattoos back,” Margarette complains.

“They are my tattoos and always were,” Theodora snaps.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Margarette grumbles. “Sorry. It just doesn’t feel that way. It’s a Nawra thing. But, I mean, if we can spare some of the metal…”

“I think we will need it for the current project,” Penelope insists. “What we are doing is not something we can skimp on power for.”

“Of course, yeah,” Margarette sighs.

“We’ll see what we can do, but I think I’ve asked mom for enough metal for now,” I say. “I hope she takes it easy. Although she probably won’t. I guess I’m off, then. Come on, Vitamin!”

“Heck yeah!” Vitamin cheers. “I get to see the city for the first time!”

She hops up on my shoulders and I chuckle a bit, giving her a friendly soul tickle before heading up the stairs. It’s not a very long walk between the lab and my family’s home anymore, which is very convenient.

“Me again!” I announce, rapping on the front door. “And I brought someone special!”

Rowan opens the door, jumping back a little as he sees Vitamin laughing playfully on my shoulders. He quickly ushers me inside.

“Should you be having her… you know?” he hisses softly.

“Sure!” I say. “Some really smart dead people think it’ll be fine.”

The kids swarm out from around the house and I lift Vitamin off my shoulders and place her on the ground.

“Now you be good, Vitamin! Normal people are very fragile, so don’t accidentally break anyone’s neck or something, okay?”

I give her some crushed delicious soul dust, knowing that she will of course not harm a fly if I don’t want her to. Her soul drinks it greedily, apparently quite eager to grow. So I crush another shard for her! I can’t let my poor zombie daughter go hungry, can I? If occasionally tossing food at and otherwise ignoring my child isn’t parenting, I don’t know what is.

Speaking of, Lyn grabs me from behind and lifts me up into a hug.

“Well, hello again! We get to see you twice before you gallivant off into the wilderness again, do we? That’s quite a treat!”

“Mom! I’m just busy!” I yelp, kicking my legs. “You don’t have to worry or anything, I kick forest monster butt!”

“Oh? Do you now? Let’s see!”

She drags me past the gaggle of children into an empty part of the house before dropping me, leaning back, and earning herself mother of the year by tossing a knife at me. I jump in surprise a little, but catch it by the handle before even turning around to face her. It was just a slow lob, nothing that could have ever actually hit me.

“What’s this for?” I ask.

“Rowan told me you’ve been picking fights with powerful people,” Lyn says, all smiles as she draws another knife. “I’m ashamed to have let you develop such bad habits at such a young age. Do you really think I’m going to feel safe seeing you leave the city when you do things like that?”

I scowl a bit.

“I’m one of the strongest people in the guild now, mom. Can’t you feel that?”

“Sure, sure,” Lyn answers casually, hopping on the balls of her feet, “my danger sense tells me to shit my britches and run until I jump off the edge. But I’ll believe it when I see it. Let’s fight.”

Fight? Fight Lyn? Why the fuck would I ever want to do that? Lyn is Lyn. I don’t want to hurt her. Is she just feeling antsy being cooped up in a nice home for once?

“I’m not going to fight you,” I grumble.

“Why not, kiddo?” Lyn asks immediately, flashing shit-eating grin.

I scowl.

“I’m not a kiddo.”

“I don’t know, it takes a pretty small kid to not even be able to beat up a grandmother. Little baby kiddo.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“Well good news!” Lyn answers. “Kids can’t hurt me. You’ve got nothing to worry about!”

Okay, maybe I’ll just hurt her a little bit.

“Um, Lyn?” Rowan asks, hesitantly stepping into the room. “I think you shouldn’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” I growl, cutting him off. “Let’s spar, mom.”

“Oh, fuck, least don’t use the real kn—”

Rowan doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because I’m already lunging in for a stab.