Awareness returned like a shot of ice. I clenched my eyes shut, hoping that I could ignore the world for just a little longer. Yet information assailed me; the smell of old blankets, the lingering scent of cooking oil, the feel of rough fabric on my skin, the taste of dust on my lips, and the breaths of someone sitting next to me. Every sensation was sharper than it used to be. That knowledge cut me like a blade.

I still recalled the feeling of a sword flying through Bab’s chest. He was dead. I had known that the moment I realised the monster was him. He had taken the blood of a god too quickly, without any plan, periods of acclimatisation, or mental training. It had ruled him in body and soul, transforming him into a beast. Divinity transcended all.

Gradually, I reopened my eyes. The ceiling was alien, full of ineffable contours and granular textures, leaping at me as bold as an arrow to the head. Yet the angles were familiar. I squinted, and my mind readjusted, compensating for my newly-enhanced senses. I was in Ma and Sash’s room.

Rolling onto my side, I stared at large person, sitting on a small stool next to the bed. For a moment, I thought it was another monster; they were human shaped, but everything was wrought in terrible detail. Then the image coalesced, and I realised it was Ma. She was still inhumanly ugly, with dark skin rolled into flaps of loose leather, and face lined from her old age and mangled from decades of combat and her departed divinity, though the embers of her Oxblood, still glowed within. Her dark hair was greyer than I remembered. My eyes cast all of this in grotesque detail – I rubbed them and hoped I would be used to these new abilities soon.

Finally, I could voice a question that had been tearing at me for a long, long time. “Are you going to kill me, now that you know?” I asked.

Her expression folded. She covered her face with a huge hand, and her shoulders shook. For several moments I watched, unsure of what was happening. It was only because of my bolstered perception that I heard her sharp inhales. Ma was crying.

I moved my legs over the side of the bed, wincing at the stiffness of my limbs. Rising to my feet was more difficult, but stumbling the few stops over to my mother helped me work some of the rigidity out. Somewhat hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around her head, having to stand on my tip-toes to reach her seated height. She sobbed harder, but I didn’t know what else to do, so we stayed there. A former warrior and her monstrous adopted son.

When her heaving body stilled, I let her go. I didn’t want to talk yet, so I walked over to Ma’s pile of tools and grabbed a chisel, short enough to hold between my thumb and forefinger. I sat back down and stared at it. Slowly, I raised it, and began tracing words in the air. After a sentence, I stopped.

“No,” I mumbled, “no, no, no.”

My writing was messy and slow. But that hadn't been my writing – it was Bab’s. He was dead, yet a part of him had stowed away in me. Insidiously, a line had been cast into him, and my blood had reeled pieces of his soul into mine.

No, calling it the work of my blood would be an injustice – my blood was me. I had done this. Suddenly I was a little less myself and a little more someone else. It was all my fault.

His memories were fragmented, displaced – I hadn’t got as much from him as I had from Drue – however skills were far easier to sort. And the Foxblood that had turned him into a monster was now inside me. Diluted, and partially defanged by the divinity of a dead god, but still there.

I felt hollow. Wrung out. It was only right to weep, yet the tears I was supposed to shed had dried up. Who would cry for Bab, if not me?

A large hand grasped my shoulder. I flinched. Ma gently tilted my head towards her.

“I knew.” She said.

It wasn’t surprising. There were many things you could hide. Strength, intelligence, empathy. Concealing rapid healing from your martial trainer was far more difficult. I had failed, despite my efforts.

“Since when?”

“I have had my suspicions ever since I started training you. Perhaps the final straw was when I realised you often forgo sleep entirely.”

That was what had revealed me? “What’s so strange about that?”

“Orvi, children need sleep far more than any adult. If they avoid it, they cannot operate the next day as is usual.”

“I didn’t think you knew so much about kids.”

“I asked Stitch why the twins slept so often.” Ma chuckled lightly, my ears picking up every vibration in her rumbling laugh. “She was furious when she realised how little I let you rest.”

When I was younger, I had hated sleeping. There were too many dreams, all about killing or being killed. I usually woke up more exhausted than when I put my head down. Ma had terrified me, but, with the exception of her frequent rages, I always found cooking with her through the night to be meditative. Seeing her many failures in the kitchen was reassuring, and helping her cook or taste-test made me feel important. Wanted.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” I told her.

“Not for you.” She shook her head. “I’m glad I did not force your siblings.”

We sat in companionable silence for a time.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” I blurted.

The Oxblood rubbed the back of her head, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “There were many reasons. The most truthful one is that… I don’t think I could.”

I shifted on the bed.

“You are my son. And I love you very much.” She paused, then sighed. “However, even if you were not, I think you can be trusted with the power. I ask you to promise me something, though.”

I waited.

“You…” she scratched her face, then started again. “Don’t kill someone for their power. That is…” Ma closed her eyes, and exhaled deeply. “That is a dark path.”

I didn't want anyone's power. Nodding was easy; effortless. I should have thought harder. “I promise.”

She bobbed her head slowly. “Thank you.”

The room had an ambient light, motes of sunshine piercing their way through cracks in the walls. I wondered how long I had slept.

“Orvi?” Ma said. I looked over to her. She fidgeted lightly. It was a comic motion with her size and appearance, but I wasn’t in the mood to tease her over it.

“What?”

“…Do Sash and Dash have godsblood?”

I quietened. “…I don’t think so. They’re… missing a few things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every type of blood has traits. You had your anger. Avri's blood..." I paused. "I want to possess beautiful things. The twins don’t…” I tried to think of a way to conjure an explanation without admitting how many trinkets I had stolen. “They don’t want like I do. But maybe they only have a little bit.”

“…How much do you have?”

I thought for a moment. My recollection of gaining the Ravenblood was hazy; it had been a long time ago. And it had happened twice. Both times had hurt, and I had hated it. “A lot, I think.”

“I see.” She lowered her eyes briefly. “And do you… want, a lot?”

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“Less, now.”

My mother hummed. “Is that why you stole Jackson’s sword?”

I blinked. “Wha- I didn’t-“

“Orvi.” She gave me a flat look.

“It’s a nice sword!” I protested.

“Orvi, you would have been quartered if they had realised you took it.”

“No!” I was adamant. “You, or-or, or Jackson.” The stutter diminished my fire somewhat. It reminded me of Bab.

“Maybe.” Ma stated. “You never know with a House. It’s fine work, besides. Alloyed with a god’s bone, if my guess is right.”

I blanched. “…It was expensive?”

She nodded. “The kind of craftmanship money can’t buy. Though, it was commissioned for me, so they may not mind you keeping it.”

That made sense. The scabbard had been engraved with an Oxblood fighting the Raven, after all. General Maja was the first who sprang to mind. If the sword was so valuable, though, there was no way it was just a gift. “Why’d they do that?”

“They wanted to recruit me.” Ma tutted.

“They did?” I spat.

“I refused.”

“Damn right!”

“They insisted on Jackson instead.”

“Wait, so that’s why he joined?” I asked.

“He joined because he wanted to, Orvi.”

I scowled. “Ass-“

She slapped the back of my head. I grabbed the rapidly-forming bruise, wincing. “You will be glad to know, then, that he was beset upon by assassins. As was I.”

My groaning paused. “What? Why?”

“Someone wanted our blood. It was a brazen move; they must have also weakened House Esfaria’s presence in the city beforehand.” She growled. “Fools. They may have almost single-handedly destroyed the Foot.”

That was a lot to process. “Is Jackson alright?” My brain worked through the rest of her words. “Are you alright? What’s going to happen?”

Ma sighed, and rubbed her eyes. There were deep rings set underneath them. “Jackson breathes still. Miss Tran is treating him while Stitch is... otherwise occupied.” She paused. “I imagine the Foxkin drunk the blood of the assassins he fought. Stupid.”

“Bab didn’t have a choice!” I snapped. “Th-there was no other way!”

She gave me a strange look. “You knew the person?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Yeah, I did. He was the, uh…” My voice caught. I frowned, then opened my mouth. “He-“ I couldn’t get the words out. I blinked rapidly. “My friend.”

I choked. With excruciating detail, I could feel liquid seeping out of my eyes and down my face. It was my turn to cry. Ma leaned over and enveloped me in her arms. I tried to stifle my sobs, but ended up letting the tears flow. Was the pity I felt for him mine or his? The feeling that his death had been as certain as the sun setting? Had his memories been distorted somehow? How much of me was still me? I mourned him, and I mourned myself.

I wondered if I had become more, or less.

The room quietened after a short time. Weeping was exhausting, and I didn’t have the energy to do it for long. Besides, a splotchy face would make me look like some sort of misshapen squid, and surely mark me as a cry-baby. The twins wouldn’t make fun of me after what had happened, but that just made it worse.

I felt a need to explain myself. Explain Bab. “He was being blackmailed by some House. To sabotage the Old Guard. Bab thought they were going to kill his family.”

Ma nodded, then leaned back into her seat. “When did he tell you this?”

I squinted at her. “He didn’t.”

“How do you know, then?”

I attempted to express my confusion. “You do know I’m a Ravenblood, right? We weren’t talking about something else just then?”

Ma rolled her eyes. “Yes, Orvi, I know.”

“I got some of his memories.”

Ma stared at me, eyes wide. The silence was awkward. I scratched my head. “What?”

“You didn’t know that?”

“No. It was…” She stopped, gathering her thoughts. “It was thought that Avri only assimilated skills and blood.”

“Why just those two?”

“I…” she rubbed the back of her head. “I do not know. I have seen Ravenbloods kill in battle and remain mostly unaffected. It is a strange oversight. It might be prudent to let the Houses know.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “The Raven is dead. It’s just me, now, right?”

“The Conditions-“ she saw my blank look, and sighed. “The Heltian Conditions formed the alliance that felled the Raven. Every House, excepting the Albrights, had a hand in it, though Albright intervened at the end.”

“Who’re the Albright’s?”

“Our monarchs.”

“What in the blood’s a monarch?”

Ma looked genuinely stunned, more so than when I confessed to being a Ravenblood. “The king? Queen?”

I sniffed, slightly offended she thought I didn’t know what ‘kings’ and ‘queens’ were. Though, before I obtained Bab’s blood, I might not have. “We have those?”

“Yes, Orvi, we have those. Or the Houses do, anyway.” She rubbed her chin. “We might not for much longer. The fact they were not originally included in the Conditions was a sign their star was waning.”

“Huh.” I didn’t really care about some Bright people I’d never heard of. “So, what’s that got to do with the Raven?”

“Yes, the Raven. The Conditions's objective was specifically the eradication of Ravenblood. That is what we hoped. Most believed that the blood would lose its potency upon the death of the god. It did not. Moreover, it hasn’t decayed.”

I tried to parse what she was trying to say. “So. There’ll be more Ravenbloods?”

She nodded. “There will be more. Some day. And all the problems with them will arise once again. Telling the Houses will allow them to better combat the eventual threat.”

“There’s good reason to let the Houses burn.”

“It will be the Foot burning first.”

I paused. “Alright. You’re… how did they not know this?”

“Well,” she was somewhat defensive, “capturing Ravenbloods alive is almost impossible. They’re volatile, with a madness directly proportional to their power. Most Ravenbloods need at least three other Blooded to take them down, and if they manage to kill even one, it’s almost guaranteed the other two are dead. Non-lethal force is too risky, when every loss is more divinity permanently corrupted by Avri.”

“Huh.” It was upsetting to hear it put so plainly. I had no doubts General Maja would have killed me when we met, had she known what I was. “You couldn’t, I don’t know, negotiate? Talk to them?”

“The Raven’s Cult was never keen on cooperation.”

Ma was right. I knew their nature from personal experience. The cultists weren’t ones for playing nice. Still, had not even one defected? Or had they not acquired even a drop of Ravenblood? It was bizarre to think the Houses had never found out.

My musings were interrupted by a light thump. I focused on the creaking of floorboards, a pair of halting footsteps, and the twin pair of breaths approaching the doorway. I let Ma know with a tilt of the head, and she nodded. I opened my mouth and yelled.

“Oi! I’m up!”

There was a large thud and then Sash was bolting into the room and leaping on top of me. Surprisingly, she decided to forgo her signature elbow this time. Dash limped in afterwards, smiling widely as soon as he saw me.

“Orvi!” Sash exclaimed. “You’re okay!”

My brother limped over to me and burst into tears. I pulled him back onto the bed, nearly being squashed by the two of them.

“I thought,” Dash sobbed, “I thought you were dead.”

I put on my brave face. “Pfft, no. There’s no way some-” my words stuttered to a halt. ‘Monster’ had been on my lips. Suddenly, I was disgusted with myself, but a longer pause would give me away. I continued. “-no way I’ll ever die.”

“It’s all because I brought Ma!” my sister proclaimed proudly.

“No, it’s because I brought the potions!” Dash countered.

I cackled evilly. “No, it’s because I am just that incredible.”

In unison, they protested, each talking over the other, making it impossible to get a word in. The noise cut into my ears, all-consumingly loud. I braced myself for agony, yet despite the nauseating abundance of sound, there was no pain. I looked over to Ma for help, but she seemed more amused than anything.

After a minute of babbling, they both agreed on a single line of questioning: ‘What was it like being a Ravenblood?’

“It’s a lot like being me,” I answered.

The twins looked at one another. “Does that mean you are evil?” Sash asked, characteristically bereft of all tact.

Sighing, I answered. “Yes. I’m afraid you caught me. I’ve been evil this whole time.”

She flinched. Dash looked at her. “He’s being sarcastic.” She let out a small ‘ah’. “Be serious, Orv.”

“Look, I don’t know.” The question was too close, too much; giving a truthful answer meant exposing too much fear. “I’ve had it for longer than you two have been alive. I don’t remember what it’s like to be normal.”

The inhabitants of the room gave me a sceptical look; I felt the lie hanging in the air, volatile as any explosive.

I turned to other things. “Anyway, how long was I sleeping for?”

“Three days.” Ma grumbled. “It was expensive getting a doctor over to look at you and Dash.”

“What happened to Dash?” I blurted.

He pointed to his ankle, swollen like some dark apple. “I tripped coming back.”

“Stitch couldn’t see us?” My eye twitched – for some reason, guilt was bubbling up. A recollection tickled, freshly grafted into my mind. I supressed it.

My mother looked away. “She only returned recently. Now, Sash, Dash: I need you to leave us for a moment.” They groaned, but she cut them off. “You will have him back afterwards.”

They filtered out of the room. I heard their treads entering the dining area, too far away to eavesdrop. The twins were more filial than I was, that’s for sure.

We sat for a time. Ma was making sure we were alone, or perhaps trying to uncover the best way to phrase a question. The light filtering through the room’s cracks were darkening; a cloud must have been passing over the sun. I didn’t want to hear what she was about to say.

She leaned over, moving her face close to mine. “Can you recall any specifics about the assassins?” The gesture wasn’t meant to be intimidating, however it dispelled any remnants of contentment my siblings had placed within me. It felt like I was drowning in mud.

Bab’s memories of the past year were unclear. Figures were cloaked in terror, their faces warped like the surface of scrap slag. Whether that was due to my incomplete assimilation of them, or simply his own fear, I didn’t know.

I clenched my teeth, and tried to talk straight. “They had Bab spying on the Esfarians.” I wracked my brain. “They… Captain Vernon, the, uh, Owlblood. He had… no, he knew something important. And then…” Furrowing my brows, I thought harder. “O-Orvi and I… Representative Fedor and Captain Vernon were, uh, going on an expedition and I… They wanted to… get more blood, and isolate Captain Vernon… O-Orvi and I, uh, swapped healing potions with… I think they were doses of Lizardblood.

“They died.” I realised. Shakes wracked my hands, and my jaw wobbled “They must have died. Because of me. Because I was stupid, and Bab thought I wanted them to.”

Ma hugged me. She must have known, must have already forgiven me. But I had known Bab was doing something. The death of the Old Guard had always been an option. Vaguely, I had known people would suffer.

And now the Guard had been obliterated, and the Foot was free of them at last. For some reason, I didn't feel satisfied.