'You deserve better! We deserve better! These fools do not deserve us! Realize our potential and.... blah blah blah! Evil blah! Murder blah! Kill blah! War crime blah!'

I was more or less paralyzed. Trying to decided whether or not the voice really belonged to my skill or whether coach Russell had done some lasting damage when he kicked my skull in.

For starters, I cut off the circulation of magic to the Skill at once.

I turned to my uncle.

"Uncle Uter, when you asked me to let some magic through my skill, did you know my Skill would be talking back?"

He shrugged.

"I assumed so. Yes. My owns Skill has been talking more or less non-stop since I got it." He scratched his head. "You can slow down the flow of magic if you want it to quiet down. If an old fart like me can do it after their first day, then you should have no problem."

He smiled.

"You're far more talented than someone like me, after all."

I felt as though coach Russell rushed over and uppercut me once more.

"Sweet merciful Buddha! We've got to get you some help!"

He chuckled knowingly.

"No, Cecil. I don't need help. Quite the contrary. I feel complete and in control for the first time in forever."

He drew in self-satisfied breath. Holding it in until it permeated his lungs and releasing it in a slow, deliberate hiss.

"The Skill isn't some alternate madman whispering in your ear. It is the voice of self-assurance. Of self-preservation. Of looking out for yourself." He looked abashed. "I mean, sure. I lost control back there with the doctor, but in all honesty, I can't say I feel bad in the slightest for biting them back there. They had it coming. It's just, the Skill let out that part of me that really wanted to do it, while suppressing my inhibitions."

He gave me a meaningful look.

"The Skill is a part of me that does not care for social norms. The part of me that finally stood its ground and demanded respect."

He patted my head and gave me a warm smile.

"It finally let me see that you were right all along. I should have been hunting down in the Dungeon. I should have spent every free minute of the day delving deeper and getting more acquainted with my own body again. I regret that now. I see how right you were. I promise it won't happen again."

"Uncle!" I began. "This and that are completely different things! You bit some doctor! People have breakdowns and bite doctors all the time in places like Florida and Ohio! It's almost normal there! I'm pretty sure it doesn't even make the local news! I..."

I choked on the words.

"The other me... Pool-Cecil... That guy's a monster!"

Uncle Uter raised an eyebrow.

"More than the coach who promised to look out for you and who recently beat you half to death? After abandoning you in rural North Korea?"

"Yes!" I stammered. Stunned that he would even make the comparison.

If I were being honest, coach Russell's beating was completely justified. Pool-Cecil didn't kill all my fellow students because it would have been inconvenient. Not because he felt any kind of empathy or connection to human lives. The dude literally cloned himself. Memories and everything, and then proceeded to torture the ever-living shit out of all his clones. All my clones. The people, boys and girls, who now have my own memories and personality.

I dry-heaved.

Trying to hurl on reflex.

But there was nothing left to throw up.

Uncle Uter reached up and patted me on the back.

"Open the link Cecil." He said. "Not a lot. Just enough to talk to the Skill. To that other side of you. See what that other side has to say before you make any kind of judgement call."

"Why would I... after everything I told you...?"

"I know about the Inquiry Cecil." He said. With the same casual ease with which someone else might discuss the weather.

The evening autumn wind howled then, as I was left speechless.

The trees around us shedding golden-brown leaves as they whistled in a chilling symphony.

"They're going to meet with you and with us. A bunch of people who don't know the first thing about you or me or our family. A bunch of people who have a vested interest in taking advantage of you. Who see you as a car or a boat they can take out whenever they want, instead of a person. They might try to label you as evil, but never forget they were the ones who lured us here and then kept us from leaving. You didn't ask to go to that Dungeon. The old bastard took you there. To serve his own ends. Yes, you might have helped some people and harmed others, but I still don't think the penalties should fall on top of you. No matter what you think of your own Skill. It was they who put you there. It was they who wanted to use you. Until it became inconvenient."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I looked at my uncle again.

Really looked at him.

I noted the way he held himself, without any of his usual stiffness. I noted the way he was casually dressed in a thin, plain white shirt and khaki shorts without shivering or looking the least bit uncomfortable. I noted the way his emerald green eyes and sandy blond hair reflected the moonlight. A lake of silver atop those steady gemstones.

He looked at ease. Completely satisfied with himself and completely in control.

"Try it again, Cecil. Hear this side of you out. Make your judgements after you've heard what he has to say."

Uncle Uter stood up without another word and made for the forest. As if walking into the pitch-black woods was something he did on the regular these days. His strides as even and graceful as those of a lion or tiger roaming through their hunting ground.

'What's gotten into him? I just confessed that I was guilty of at least a dozen felonies and more than one war crime. And he just brushed all of it off. Like I was discussing the weather. That and he just talked about hearing voices as if it were another everyday thing like picking up groceries.'

I thought about he'd said. And about what Elsie had said.

Then I ran over to the house and looked for her.

"Hey!" I called out as I made my way around a corner. "I need help!"

She and Eva looked up at me.

Both were laying on the floor finishing a puzzle. Both looked equally surprised to see me.

"Cecil." Elsie began. "I didn't read your thoughts when you were coming in. Everything all-right?"

"No. Everything is not all-right. I need to talk to someone. Someone who knows their stuff about magic. Usually I'd reach out tom coach Russell but..."

"But he'll probably be less than pleased to see you." She finished for me. "Also, he won't answer cause he's still in jail. Okay. Why don't you call coach Homer then? You've got his number on the Analyzer."

I gaped at her.

"What? Just because their family doesn't mean they talk to each other all that much. Coach Homer was the first to lose his mind at his dad when he saw the state you were in. He's not going to turn you down if you ask him for help."

"I'd... rather not." I finished. "I need to talk about... look. Can I get your great-Grandpa's number? Or your Grandpa's? I hear he know his stuff too."

She stared up at me. Her eyes meeting mine.

"I have a different idea. Why don't we go outside and talk about this?" She gave me the usual impish grin. "No teasing. I promise."

I groaned internally, but followed her outside.

"Okay. I know this sounds crazy but..."

"Your Skill talks to you." She interrupted.

"You knew!? Does everybody know about these things? Why am I the last to find out?"

"I dunno. Cause you woke up a couple of hours ago." She replied. Brushing her hair away from her eyes with one hand while holding her chin with the other.

"It really isn't that weird. There are cores like [Madness] or [Medium] whose whole thing is hearing voices. Yeah, it sounds sinister, but they do great curse damage and none of their Skills are blacklisted."

That left me speechless.

"Also, you forget that my level is higher than yours and that I was never a slouch while training. I heard the entire conversation from your living room."

That brought me back to reality.

"So you agree we need to get my uncle some help ASAP?"

"No. Actually. All the info he gave you was good. I would recommend the same thing. It's textbook advice around here. Even if a Skill is blacklisted, that doesn't mean you don't use it. It means you use it in controlled settings until you've got a good grasp of it."

She gazed up into the starry sky. Pondering how to follow up her statement.

"Think about it like potty training. You'll still go, no matter how much you try to stop it. But things will be easier for everyone if you get used to doing it yourself and not getting the rugs messy. Does that make sense?"

"No." I answered. "You are telling me to listen to the creepy voice in my head. You are wrong."

"If that's the case, then why did you ask for advice?" She arched an eyebrow. Failing to suppress a grin. "Honestly Cecil. I'm not messing with you. Go ask anyone with any kind of experience or, heck, pick up the textbooks once we get to normal classes again. It's all there."

She brought up a hand to forestall me.

"Mind you, I'm not saying this Pool-Cecil isn't evil. I am totally on your side that he is evil incarnate. Those Bedbugs were not fun to deal with I teel you. And what he did to the clones was all kinds of messed up. Horror movie material."

She reached closer and clasped my hand in hers.

"What I am telling you is that all Skills are different. Even ones that seem similar. [Bloodlust] is a bitch to deal with when your teammate flips out mid-fight, but the voice does give decent advice most of the time. At least, for the wielder. It kinda acts like a very angry, very loyal Pitbull. Snarling at anything it doesn't like, but keeping their master safe at all times. [Bloodlust] also doesn't typically advise hurting people you care about, unless it activates in fight-or-flight mode. Your Skill is obviously different, hence the different name. Grandpa James settled on [Seeker-Mind] because the main theme linking its actions and motivations was self-improvement. Yes, you lost control, but that doesn't mean you'll lose control next time. Or the time after that. It all depends on your own efforts."

She could see that I wasn't convinced. Her grip tightened and, for a moment, I could almost believe she cared.

"Again, nothing is set in stone. There will be an Inquiry. This is going to be discussed by a bunch of experts and they're going to keep meeting up until we fully understand the Skill. This is how we do research to make informed decisions around these parts."

She let go and stepped back.

"Now. Let's practice. Let some more magic through and tell me what it says." The impish smile returned. "I promise to stop you if you go crazy again."

I winced.

But I did feel better.

Having uncle Uter say all those things before walking off into the night had been anything but reassuring. It was good to have a second opinion.

"Okay." I said. Letting go of some more magic.

'... and none of them respect you in the way that you deserve! You are a lion walking among sheep! You should not concern yourself with their opinions! Give me control again, even partial control and I will lead us to greatness! Think about what I've already done for us! For you! Didn't you feel used and scared and vulnerable when the old man pushed his magic onto you? Didn't you feel small after realizing the gulf between you two? I changed that! Me! I made it so that no one will ever disrespect us again! I made it so that we could take whatever it is that we wanted with impunity! I could have brought us to level 3 right then and there! And then to level 4 and 5 and 6 and 7 and 8! I could have surpassed the lustful brute and the old man both! I could have ruled the world with an iron fist!'

All of that came out in one string of words. Making me dizzy.

'And I would have gotten away with it too! If it weren't for those pesky kids and their monkey!'

'Don't you mean coach?'

'Hmn? Yes. What did I say?'