My soul shook at Chernobog's reply.

Not metaphorically. I literally felt it waver, nearly slipping free of the bonds tying it to by body and mind. And, if it was destroyed by a god-the only way it could be destroyed, or even affected, the Nightraiser's strange erasure power, which I didn't understand, notwithstanding, and even that had been temporary-I would cease living, as it was. My body was merely a vessel for my soul, and my mind was also kept together by it. My braincells had stopped working eight years ago.

(Add forty years to that if you know me personally)

The idea was, I was not just braindead, but fully dead, as far as science was concerned. My undeath might have changed my appearance, but, uh...let's just say I was really glad only my insides were rotten. Some strigoi weren't so lucky, instead looking like scraps of flesh barely hanging on rotten, hollow bones.

That was also another reason I was glad to be with Mia. A human woman, even one able to get over how cold my body was, certainly wouldn't have appreciated the diseases she'd get from my carcass.

My soul didn't leave my body, however. Instead, I grabbed hold of it with all my will, keeping it in its metaphorical place.

Do we win this?

Don't...know, my strigoi side replied. Can either...heal...or look...

I bet Mimir could have done both at the same time, and more. Way to die and leave me holding the bag, old man. What'd you think I was,  competent?

Still, no need to let Chernobog know, unless he was reading my mind without me knowing.

You can bet your arse it's so. I grinned. What's 'grey' in Russian again? I think you should add me to the list of people you run from, like Belobog.

You are not a god. Amusement. And Belobog is gone. Don't you think you'd have heard of him if he was alive, never mind important?

Shucks, I dunno. I hear a lot about you, and you sure ain't important.

Important enough to leave you cringing-

Mhm.

In fear. This bluster is not fooling anyone, David. Not me, and certainly not yourself.

Whoa, it's not fooling either of the only two people who know of it and that it's an act? Damn. I snapped my fingers, shaking my head with pursed lips. You're sma...wait, nah. That was just a guess. Would have been a lucky one, but nothing involving me can be described that way.

What are you hoping to achieve, David? Chernobog sounded genuinely curious. Let us say I do not manifest in Fairie-which, if I did, would be followed by your destruction.

"If".

Even if you remove all the Fae trapped in "the Blackness"-wonderfully creative name, by the way. Do you call the sky "the Blueness"?

Sounded like a black god was bummed the not so clever monkeys named him "black god".

What do you think will happen? Perhaps I'll become unable to swallow them again? Or maybe I will be so sad I will stop devouring their realm?

I forced myself to laugh, grateful the howl of the Blackness prevented me from telling if it sounded like a pained wheeze, even in my mind.

The fact I could hear myself laugh at all was probably another facet of my worse half's prowess with Mimir's power. There certainly wasn't air, or anything else, in the Blackness.

Go ahead and eat Faerie. We will welcome them into our world, if need be. We can bend space, build habitats, and so can they. And if it doesn't work, for whatever reason, we will help them settle on other planets.

I wasn't aware you spoke for Earth  or the Fae. I had the mental impression of Chernobog stroking his chin in a mockery of a thoughtful pose. How do you know your people won't kill or spurn the Fae, provided the latter even want your help, as opposed to your submission or destruction?

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I expected my answer to irritate him, but if it did, he gave no sign. If anything...

I tensed as I felt Chernobog relax with a satisfied smile. Had I said something wrong? Played into his hands, somehow?

Strange you would say that, Chernobog said in an overly-cheerful tone. You just missed the chance of achieving peace between humanity and Fae.

The hell you mean? I frowned. You haven't won yet. I'll die before I let that happen.

Oh, David...the Black God shook his head pityingly, and it was all I could do to push my strigoi side into the back of my mind as it roared in anger, admonishing it and reminding it to keep our body stable. At the same time, I felt a bladed tendril stab clean through my heart, and remain there.

I began bending forward, blood oozing out of my mouth, hands on the tendril as I tried to push it or myself away. It...it didn't hurt at all. Or did it hurt so much my body couldn't even feel it? Maybe it was just my life...pouring out...of me...

I pressed my hands against my whole, unmarked chest, lungs expanding and contracting as if I were still alive. The shock-at the wound, at my survival, spurring my shapeshifting into imitating life.

My strigoi side whined apologetically, the thin sound seemingly all it could manage without starting to lose ground. It had teleported me away and healed me from the impalement, but it was still mad at itself for becoming distracted.

And at...myself? For not dodging?

Yeah, sure. Neither of us could have prevented that.

Nice try, I glared at nothing, knowing Chernobog could see me. But it won't work again.

You think I was lying. Taunting.

Weren't you?

I spoke no lies. You  have lost your chances at reconciliation, at no fault of your own. Isn't that just the story of your unlife, though? Used and abused by everyone, never knowing until it's too late. At least as a human, you failed from lack of talent.

I don't know what the fuck you're rambling about, I said, unwilling to dignify his mention of my failed writing career with an answer.

Remember, everyone: just because a smug bastard is right about your flaws, it doesn't mean you should encourage them by agreeing.

No...I suppose you don't, do you? The only way you could have been aware would have been to make good use of the power I gave you.

I'd say I'm making pretty damn good use of it, I grinned fiercely. Considering you're talking to me, as opposed to monologuing over my corpse.

Had you been better at using Mimir's perception, perhaps you would have noticed the Unseelie that left Faerie, shortly before you came here.

I shrugged. I was busy not picking on people weaker than me. I know you can't relate, but...

You might like to know that their leader, a respected warrior and huntress among her kind, wanted to reach out to you, in the hopes of making you come to Faerie and heal it, or find the Fae a new home, if you couldn't.

But...but that's exactly what Oberon called me here for. So what if we didn't meet? I'm doing exactly what she wants, too. What's her problem, not telling me in person? I'll make it up to her.

Aye, Oberon called you here. Chernobog nodded. But King Seelie is not exactly beloved by his subjects at the moment, is he? His attempt at bargaining with me is the reason they are losing their home and kindred, after all. That is not to mention the enmity between Seelie and Unseelie, which Oberon hoped to end through the latest Wild Hunt, has been reignited instead by your murder of them.

Don't you dare, I told him in a warning tone. Don't you dare-

Would you prefer "genocide"? Alas, there are still too many Fae for that...but worry not, David. Once I put on your carcass, I'll be sure to rectify that while your zmeu watches. If there's enough of her mind left by then, of course...

I didn't reply right away, instead trembling in rage. Then, I swallowed my anger, refusing to give him the satisfaction of making me mad.

Touch her, and you'll wish Nacht had kept you for itself.

So righteous! You are almost starting to sound like every dull blowhard I have ever broken. 'Don't take my home. Don't hurt my people. Leave my love alone'. You shouldn't be worrying about me, David.

Finally admitting he was nothing, huh? I know all about your puppeteer. We'll stop him, too. The Fixer will-

You know nothing, Chernobog said. Was his tone a little harsher after the puppeteer comment?

Aww, are you losing your temper? I smiled. What, can't handle the truth? Or is someone mad at being found out? Nice sock puppet, Nyarl. It's almost as ugly as you.

I am freer than you will ever be, Yahweh's slave.

Didn't we make a show about you as a stupid teen girl? Someone hook a generator to Lovecraft's grave, he could power the planet after what we've done with his work.

By now, I was moving under, over and aside from blades and bludgeons of darkness, teleporting out of crushing spiked spheres trying to close around me.

You are not speaking to the Crawling Chaos. You are a fool, David. The Unseelie might be touched by me, but she is not under my control.  She will be the one to break your zmeu.

What? My brow furrowed at the nonsense. Whatever for...?

Oh, you only know the half of it. Chernobog faked a magnanimous sigh. I shall tell you the rest: this Fae wants you, David. I doubt I need to explain what for. Helping the Fae is just a test of worthiness in her eyes, though heeding Oberon's summons will make it even harder. She never respected him, even before this...had you waited more, refused Oberon and followed her to Faerie instead, you might have had a better chance at gaining her trust. She is something of a rising star among those who distrust the Nomad Queen and her failure of a King.

That bullshit has  nothing to do with Mia, I snarled. You say this Unseelie "wants" me, and would break Mia to get at me? Please, bastard. Even  you can't make me crazy enough to believe I have women fighting over me.