I conjured a Smith and Wesson 500. The strongest commercially available handgun blew a hole through Hestia's head with its signature .50 cal cartridge.

She flickered and shapeshifted, but I just fired every time she reformed. Terese just shook her head and went back to the paperwork she had been doing.

"Wait- this isn't- fun!" Hestia was able to get in a word or two before I destroyed her skull over and over again. "Stop!"

"Do I win?" I asked, "I'm not in the mood Hestia."

"Gods- remaining- fuck- fine!" Her face settled into the most human-like I'd seen, with a hairless blue elvin face and an exposed, scaled stomach.

Her blue eyes shot daggers at me but I had been honest with her when I said I wasn't in the mood. I turned to Terese instead.

"Do you have a magic library or something?" I asked, "I'm about to have access to infinite reading material on a specific subject and I don't want to choose something that's already covered."

She looked at me like I'd just suggested she hand me her life savings.

"Tristan, magic writings are ridiculously rare. Gifted are paranoid to a fault, they would keep any knowledge they have within their insular groups."

"So you're saying…?"

"What I'm saying, Tristan, is that you are free to read the 4 books we have on blood magic along with the two or three others filled with common knowledge. That is all I have for a 'library.'"

"Oh, well thanks anyway Terese, I'll still give it a glance."

"Why do you need books on mortal magic?" Asked Hestia.

"I was mortal, Hesty," I replied, walking down the hall towards Terese's small reading room "I'll take any books on anything magical."

Hestia touched her chin with a clawed finger.

"Make a deal with me," she said suddenly, staring down at me with a mischievous grin.

"For what, are you gonna teach me magic?"

"Of course not, that would be like teaching someone to breathe." She rolled her eyes. "Clearly you need someone to teach you how to be an Outsider."

I produced my Contract and handed it to her as I opened the door to Terese's 'library.'

"Just fill in whatever you think is fair and I'll read it after."

"Wow you really know nothing," Hestia smirked. "Wendigos can't be contracted." She handed my Contract back.

"Really?" I said, grabbing a book titled Basics of Sacrifice. "Why is that?"

"I eat Fate, remember?"

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Oh yeah, how does that even work?"

"Everyone has Paths their Fate can take, ways their life can turn out. Wendigos devour these paths and grow their own."she explained in a surprisingly intellectual tone, "when I die, my path changes to a version of me that lived. The same thing happens if I'm bound in a Contract or trapped."

"So you can see people's future?"

"Yes, and before you ask, no I can't see yours, and I think I know why." She grabbed my wrist and held up my left shackle, "you gave yours up."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean when you freed the last owner of your vessel, that must have given him your Paths, but it still doesn't explain some things." She said, "every Fateless I ever met were like background characters in their own lives, unimportant to everyone, including themselves. They have no motivations, no strong emotions, and little to no impact on the lives around them."

I realized as she kept talking that what she described would look outwardly like normal depression symptoms and shivered at the thought. As I thought about it more, she did have some points. Ever since my change I hardly had any wants or motivations, perfectly capable of doing whatever my masters wanted. I had been coasting along without really taking this as seriously as I should.

I needed to get stronger, as strong as possible so no one could walk over me or hurt the ones I cared about. I was ready to die when I changed. It's only now that I felt ready to live.

"... really it almost seems like- Whoa." Hestia interrupted herself and stared at me with wide eyes. "You grew a Path! And I can't read it!?"

"A deal sounds good Hesty," I said, sitting down in a ratty chair and opening a book. "Teach me everything you know and I'll owe you a small favor whenever I'm around, since I can't write you in, that's the best you're gonna get."

---

I love to read, but magical writing is absolutely exhausting. The text was somehow flowery, poetic, dense and scientific at the same time. The books were all seemingly shoddily-combined ideas mixed with terrible experiments and outright contradictory rules!

Plus they were all super evil. I mean I've come to accept morality is a gray rainbow behind the curtain but blood magic is ridiculous. Mostly due to the fact that it really doesn't have to be blood, and it certainly doesn't have to be your blood. A perfect excuse for animal and human sacrifice, according to Terese's elders.

While the blood magic books were not very useful for the most part, as I would never want to learn it, the books Terese deemed 'common knowledge' were. The books contained numerous facts on common magic types, along with the most prolific and famous types of Changed and Outsider.

Outsider wasn't just a cool name, the vast majority were from Outside, meaning outside this plane of existence. Fae and Giantkin were the exception: Fae being from earth but leaving sometime far in the past to make their home elsewhere, Giants just being so rare and good at magic that they were hardly seen.

Djinn we're mentioned only once in a blurb about historically important moments:

A similar being to demons, djinn were far more sinister back when they were unburdened by their now infamous vessels. Djinn lived off the desires of mortals and Outsiders both, and could drive even the most pious man to give into his basest indulgences.

When a powerful djinn stoked the first murder of a beloved deity, the heavens united for the first time and chained the race to the vessels they now occupy. The damage was already done however, for now the people of the planes knew that you could kill a god. Very few remain for this exact reason.

I could see why plenty of first reactions to me were suspicious now, it seemed like remaining gods wasn't just a saying. Gods sound scary, I hoped I'd never meet one.

While I was reading, Hestia disappeared to gather 'teaching materials.' she finally returned, carrying a few odds and ends in her arms. She almost slipped so I waved a hand and telekinetically moved it all to the table.

"What's all of this?" I asked.

There was a dull red crystal, a small golden ring, a chunk of sandstone covered in what looked like cuneiform, and another crystal; this one vibrant pink, my favorite color.

"The spirit of a rabbit, a travel mark, an attunement stone to Debauch, and most importantly, your soul," she replied proudly.

"Excuse me?"