All things considered, I think I'm still not a fan of kissing. It's not… bad, though. Not like I was expecting. It's just one of those things that humans do that I've always thought was weird and vaguely gross. As an Athanatos, I don't even have a mouth in the right place to make kissing work, so it doesn't really feel like much of anything. In that respect, it's quite tolerable.
It's worth it just to feel Penelope's reaction, Malrosa chimes in.
Okay, you're right, that's definitely true. Penelope's emotional reaction felt awesome. I snuggle closer to my big, warm dragon woman, soaking in the comfort of finally having her back in my life. Not quite the way it was before, but no worse for it. Penelope's emotions are a tumultuous storm, as is her soul itself, but the love that's blooming and growing is still gorgeous to watch. Galdra carved it all out of her, severing the emotion from the memories, but Penelope still has the memories of us, of what we were together, and the empty grooves where love was missing have no trouble accepting new life flowing into them. I let out a sigh of satisfaction, my antennae twitching with amusement when I pick up on Penelope getting ticklish about the rush of warm air hitting her tummy. Well, I think that sensation is ticklishness, anyway.
No, I'm pretty sure that sensation is 'being naked with my girlfriend in my lap,' Malrosa chuckles. But I suppose it's a little hard to tell right now.
Yeah, her soul is a mess. Original Penelope had beautiful pink bubbles on the bottom and a half-shell of craggy ridges on top. Post-Galdra Penelope, meanwhile, built those craggy ridges into a full sphere, completely trapping herself inside. Now, her soul is shattered chaos, fragments of solidified principle swimming around inside a frothy whirlpool that's boiling over. Constantly in motion, constantly churning, Penelope's soul isn't even recognizable as human. She needs serious help and she needs it quickly.
The help she needs probably isn't animancy, though.
Yeah, that. She's not dying or anything, she's just recovering from a psychotic break. Which is, um, pretty bad, but animancy would almost certainly add to the problem in this situation. It's best to calm her down mundanely, let her settle on her own time, and then triage any severe damage if necessary. It most likely won't be necessary, though. Souls are resilient and generally pretty good at self-repair.
Plus, this way gives us more time to sit here and cuddle.
Yeah. That too. That's a pretty nice bonus.
"Vita?" Penelope says quietly.
"Mmm?" I murmur back.
"What am I feeling right now?"
Huh. That's a bit of an odd question. I think she's genuinely confused. Not hard to see why.
"Lotta things," I answer quietly. "Pretty much all of the things."
"I don't want to cry," she says.
"Is your body trying to cry?" I ask.
"Yes."
"Let it."
She takes a shaky breath and holds me a little tighter. I don't comment as my head starts to get wet. I've never been much of a crier, with most of Vita's life being one in which I can't show weakness or waste water without consequences. Of course, now I can't cry at all, not that I miss the experience. I cried a lot when Angelien died, though. Probably a few other times, too. If that's what Penelope's instincts say she needs, now is a good time to listen to them. They're a bit… well, I mean, they exploded. Something obviously went wrong with ignoring them.
"I hate this," Penelope sobs quietly.
"It's okay," I reassure her. "Let yourself feel it."
"I don't want to feel it," she insists. "I don't want to feel anything!"
"Well, uh, you don't really have a choice in the matter. Sorry."
She chuckles humorlessly, tears still flowing.
"Evidently not," she agrees. "I suppose I'm stuck being a fucking psychopath forever."
"Jelisa says it's bad to pretend to be something that we're not," I say. "But at the same time, it's okay to not like parts of yourself. The trick isn't to deny the parts you hate, but to acknowledge and learn to work around them. Self-improvement isn't about running away, it's about facing yourself head-on."
"But I tried that," Penelope shudders. "I tried to do that my entire life. I failed."
"You were alone," I remind her. "I'm starting to suspect that self-improvement is extra difficult if you're by yourself."
"I had you before, too," Penelope points out.
"Eh," I shrug. "I'm not sure you did, honestly."
A pulse of fear rings through her. Whoops, that wasn't my intention.
"What do you mean?" she asks.
I mull my thoughts over in my head a bit, not really sure what to say. When we finally speak, it's Malrosa saying the words.
"I don't think the Vita from before was emotionally mature enough to help you," I say. "Not that we're a lot better now, but at least we realize we should try."
"We…?" Penelope starts, then shakes her head. "Oh. Right. I'm sorry, I'm so jumbled I didn't even ask who you are."
"It's been Vita until just now," I explain. "Though honestly, she and I have been thinking about changing our names. It feels weird to have 'Vita' not refer to me. I still feel like that's partially my name, the same way she still feels like she's Malrosa."
Thinking of new names is really fucking hard, though, Vita grumbles. I've never wanted a different name before, I'm no good at naming things.
I feel much the same way, but at least we don't have to decide now.
Sooner is better, though? I'd feel like a fool making everyone get used to calling us something and then going 'whoops! Never mind about that, new names, actually!'
Hrm. That's true enough. I'm sure people won't mind if they care about us, but it would be nice to have it sorted out. I don't have any good ideas, though.
I don't either! The best I've come up with is Wrath and Pride, but that's—
Ha! A bit self-insulting and oversimplified? …Although still pretty funny. I'm obviously Pride, I suppose.
Yeah. Being funny is a shitty reason for it to be our names, but it still amused me.
Agreed. We deserve better names than that, but we should probably be focusing on Penelope right now.
Oh, true.
"What about 'Taal?'" Penelope suggests.
"Pardon?" I ask, twisting my head to look at her face.
"For your name. Taal. It's a noble name, currently unused. I think it would be quite fitting for a gutter rat of Skyhope who returned as royalty. Nobles are named after great mountains of legend that were said to belch flaming stone, red-hot liquid that poured from their peaks and demanded respect from all of mankind. My grandfather was given the title of Vesuvius, and I was deemed worthy of the name, because Vesuvius is one of the most legendary mountains of death. It is said to have not only slain an entire city in moments, but preserved its victims, locking them in time to serve as a warning to future generations. It is the mountain of fear."
"And what's Taal?" I ask, wiggling a little to shift my weight for comfort. Penelope, in response, brings her tail around my back, coiling it over both of us and adding another layer to our cocoon of tentacles.
"...Taal was said to look like a tiny, unassuming thing," Penelope explains, resting her chin on top of my head. To prevent me from looking at her? She's embarrassed by something. "Barely a mountain, it jutted up like a nub from the middle of a lake. But it has slaughtered thousands, and in truth it is far, far larger than just what humans see of it."
"I love it," I say honestly. "Taal. I'll take that as a name."
I want a name that represents Liriope, if you have a name from Valka, Vita says.
I honestly like the most obvious answer. Do you?
Hmm. Yeah. It's a good name.
"My other self will be Zoi," I announce. "A word for Life, from our people's original language. But for simplicity's sake, you're more than welcome to call both of us Vita or Malrosa, if you aren't sure who we are or want to refer to both of us together. I think that fits us best."
"I am somewhat jealous of your ability to decide such things," Penelope sighs. "I do not know what fits me anymore. …I suppose, at least in terms of clothing, there is nothing which fits me anymore. I need to rectify that."
"I will be quite surprised if Nugas doesn't already have you a wardrobe prepared," I chuckle. "Finally able to experience the embarrassment of immodesty again?"
"That doesn't really have much to do with it," Penelope says, shaking her head slightly. "At least I don't think so. I don't have any issue with people seeing me naked. If anything, it makes a lot of things easier. I think I like clothing, however. I… prefer it."
"Huh. Why were you going without, then? Had a principle against wasting textiles?"
"No," Penelope answers. "No principle. Clothing is just… for people."
Oh, Penelope. I give her a squeeze, not knowing how to respond.
"You don't put clothing on a tool, no matter how useful or complicated," she continues. "That's… that's all I was. All I wanted to be. It still is, even now that the certainty is broken and gone. It's what… Galdra, she…"
"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," I assure her, patting her head with a few tendrils.
"I still want to help her!" Penelope sobs. "She's dead, I killed her, but she's still in there, like no one and nothing else matters, and I just… I don't want to feel it!"
Like no one else matters? What about us? Zoi grumbles, but we're both ashamed of the thought when it happens. Penelope is distraught and we can feel the love she has for us, getting annoyed by something like this is stupid and hurtful. We know that, but we're still not good at this sort of thing yet.
"I've been freeing my Revenants, but they still feel the same about me," I admit. "Animancy is horrifying. It's going to be hard, Penelope, but we'll help. Zoi and I but also Jelisaveta, Theodora, Nugas, Lark, Xena, Norah… everyone. You have plenty of people who understand and still want to help. You're not alone against the world anymore."
"I don't know how to feel about any of this," Penelope sighs.
"I know," I assure her. "But you have plenty of time to figure it all out. Your soul is going to take at least a few days to heal on its own. You're going to leave it alone during that time, okay?"
"Okay," she says softly.
"It's going to be hard," I tell her. "But I will be here as much as you need me. When both of us are confident that it will be safe, we'll take you home. In the meantime, it'll be you and me."
"The town needs me," Penelope says tiredly.
"Not as much as you need a break. The others will handle it. Nugas knows everything that'll need done in your absence."
"You know, there was a time I would have scoffed at the idea of putting Nugas in charge," Penelope comments tiredly. "Now I'm not sure there's anyone in the world that would be better for the job. …And I think there's also no one that I'm more afraid of."
"Yeah that's fair," I shudder. "Has she successfully seduced you yet?"
"I still don't think I understand Nugas well enough to understand if having sex with her would be morally reprehensible or not," Penelope says hesitantly. "Animancy and consent are like oil and water."
"I mean, I feel like she's pretty enthusiastically consenting," Vita says. I mean Zoi says. I mean I say. This is going to take some getting used to. "Two years ago, it was fucked up. Now it's a bit creepy, but like… she's still Nugas. You don't have any compulsions on her that force her to stay that way, right?"
"Well, no."
"Then if she's not her own independent person by now, when will she be? She's pretty obviously making her own decisions. You sure didn't order her to design the Calamity Protocol."
"Okay, but she's obsessed with me to the degree that she'd literally let me kill her if I wanted to," Penelope answers.
"Yeah, and you think that's hot."
Penelope brings her hands up to her face and rubs her eyes in exasperation, her body starting to turn a little pink.
"Why are we even… there is something horribly and uniquely Vita about the fact that, after finally getting me to agree to be your girlfriend, the first thing you do is encourage me to have sex with my maid. I am not going to."
"You sure? You went through all the trouble of giving yourself an idealized body without removing the obvious weak point between your legs," I smirk. "You may as well get some use out of it other than showing it off all the time."
Bright pink. Penelope's whole body shifts to bright pink as a rush of embarrassment fills her soul. Maybe we should slow down a bit. Pushing her like this while she's fragile is risky. I guess she's right; no matter how funny—and relieving—it is to see Penelope actually embarrassed about stuff, it's not a smart thing to be prodding too hard.
"Sorry," I backpedal. "I just want you to be happy. That's the whole reason we were all so worried about you before."
"It's fine," Penelope mumbles. "I… appreciate that you've always supported my active sex life, but I think this is the sort of territory you should err on the side of assuming you don't understand."
"Okay, I guess that's fair," I sigh. "I feel like I'm kind of caught between not wanting to understand it and not wanting to seem like I don't understand it. I'm not totally ignorant anymore, it's not like I'm a virgin."
"What?" Penelope blinks. "Oh. You mean as Malrosa, you…?"
"Yeah, plenty of times," I shrug. "I remember liking it, but also it's kind of gross now? If that makes sense?"
"Mmm. A little," Penelope nods, relaxing a bit now that we're no longer talking about her. "What changed? Just your merger?"
"Well, that played a big part of it," I confirm. "Vita and Malrosa had very different opinions on the subject and Vita's sort of just… won out, overall. But there's also the issue with my reduced tactile sensation. Even if I wanted to have sex again, I'm not sure I'd physically enjoy it all that much. My body just isn't responsive in that way, what with so many soul threads snaking around between my nerves and drinking up my internal organs."
"Ah, I see," Penelope nods. There's a beat of silence. "What was that last bit?"
"Hmm?" I ask innocently.
"The, ah, internal organs part," Penelope clarifies with impressive restraint.
"Oh, that," I answer blithely. "Don't worry, it's mostly intentional and probably harmless. Remember back when I kept growing eyeballs and meat tentacles as a human? I'm trying to be a bit more productive with those instincts, is all. Optimizing more efficiently rather than just adding mass onto mass at random."
It's frankly not the most comfortable experience, and it's been very slow going, but it's nice not having to worry about sprouting extra eyeballs in random places. My modifications are entirely internal, at least for now, so it hasn't been anything worse than a somewhat ill feeling or bout of minor aches. The work I'm doing is delicate and at least somewhat experimental, but the Progenitor has at least confirmed that the theory is sound.
"I… see," Penelope says slowly. "I trust you, but I'd feel better if I could look you over once I'm feeling stable enough to cast again."
"Sure," I allow easily. "I'm not sure if you'll actually find all that much, though."
As in, I'm genuinely unsure. Biomancy tends to give me really weird information about my changes, stuff I can't parse anywhere near as well as by using my instincts. But Penelope is way better at biomancy than I am, so maybe she can pull it off. If anyone can, it's her. Aaaah, she's back! She's actually, finally back!
Yeah. She is. I rub my face against her scales a bit, luxuriating in the smooth, pliable texture. Her storm of a soul is slowing little by little, settling down at a slow yet comfortable pace. She'll never be exactly the same as before, but she's still Penelope anyway. And she's back.
"...Don't you have things that you should be doing?" Penelope asks after another pause.
"Cuddling you is very much my top priority," I assure her. "But I'll have to go back to Skyhope tomorrow. Would you be comfortable with Lark here to watch you while I'm away, or do you have plagues that work on vrothizo ready?"
"To my constant frustration, I do not," Penelope scowls. "So Lark should be… relatively safe, at least. I'd have to put in more effort than what I can output during a mindless rage to seriously hurt her, I think, and that should be all that's needed."
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"I don't think you're going to try to hurt anyone, for what it's worth," I assure her. "That explosive event isn't exactly repeatable in a short timeframe."
Penelope swallows, nodding slowly.
"I… haven't actually looked at my soul since then," she says softly. "Should I?"
I hesitate. No. Say no. She should let herself heal.
"We think… no. Just relax, Penelope. We're here, and you're going to be okay."
"I'm going to be okay," she repeats. "Alright. I trust you, Vita. Against my better judgment, I trust you."
"Uh, thanks I think?"
"You're welcome," she huffs. "I think… I'm done talking for now. Can we just sit here a while?"
I almost say 'yes,' but Taal mentally pokes me and I shut up just in time, nodding my head instead. The two of us stay there together, hugging and relaxing until Penelope insists on getting up and distributing anti-plague at other danger zones. We split off from one another there, with her flying off on her own and me quickly teleporting back to town to grab her some clothes from Nugas.
Nugas herself is in relatively good shape, all things considered. Her face and arm are a bit of a mess, but she doesn't seem to mind the pain and is overjoyed to give me some of the outfits she designed for her 'mistress.' I take one of the least scandalous ones I can find and rush back to Penelope, who thankfully seems to be doing alright. We find a decent spot in the forest to wash off all the blood and gore on her—we could just use magic, but I figured Penelope would appreciate a full bath—and then she finally gets dressed for the first time in months.
It's a sleek black dress, hugging her waist but frilling out below into wide, wavy patterns. The bottom drops just below her ankles so taloned feet barely peek out from the poofy edges, and the top is completely sleeveless, showing off the powerful muscles in her shoulders and arms. The whole thing is backless, the opening going well below where a normal backless dress would cover up in order to fit Penelope's tail out along with her wings. It's admittedly quite beautiful, if more than a little impractical for roughing it out here in the forest. At least Nugas gave her tights for when she flies. I half-expected her not to.
"Hrm," Penelope hums, lashing her tail back and forth. "It's nice, though I'm not sure I like the color."
Fuck she turned black when she had her breakdown we should have thought of that.
"You'll have a whole wardrobe when you get back home," I assure her.
"Yes," Penelope nods. "I… suppose I will."
She steps forward and places one of her giant hands on top of my head, causing my whole body to stagger a little as she ruffles my head-setae. Her palm is as big as my scalp, and her claws reach all the way down to my neck. With anyone else, I'd hate the sensation, but from Penelope it's quite nice.
"Thank you, Vita," she says. "I'm sorry."
"Of course, Penelope," I answer, smiling. "What else is love for, eh?"
"I suppose we'll find out," she smiles. "Together."
"Yeah," I nod. "I guess we will."
We spend the rest of the day together, and when night falls I reluctantly fall asleep on her as well. Penelope doesn't sleep, apparently, so I was hesitant to leave her alone, but she assured me it wouldn't be a problem and I should actually be rested when dealing with negotiations, since I'm kind of super bad at them. A day passes, Lark shows up to watch my girlfriend, and before long I'm strolling through the streets of Skyhope again, chatting with a High Templar like we haven't both tried to kill each other. Well, okay, not exactly like that. Three other Templars also flank me, as if that would do anything.
"Martial law, hmm?" Taal asks, which is my name now. Not Malrosa, Taal. Okay, well, Malrosa is also correct, but… gah. Names are hard! "I assume you're in charge?"
"I am, unfortunately," Braum confirms. "I'm much more of a soldier than a leader, so hopefully we'll be able to end this situation soon."
He's actually serious, too. Braum isn't intending to use martial law as an excuse to take over the government in a more permanent fashion. On one hand I'm rather impressed with the man; I don't exactly have a high opinion of humans in his position so I wouldn't have expected this from most people. On the other hand, Braum is one of the few people in power reasonable enough to work with me, so I'm kind of annoyed that I'll have to work so damn hard to make our alliance invaluable before he steps down.
"Do you have anyone lined up?" I ask, trying to get a better idea on my timeframe. "I'd prefer not to be blindsided by whoever ends up replacing you."
"That's a difficult question to answer," Braum hedges. "Legally speaking, we'd of course reinstate the king, but…"
"But the king has spent the past few years being a figurehead and the real question is 'who is going to be in charge of manipulating him?'" I press. Vita's blunter instincts aren't generally great in these sorts of situations, but they're good at getting a conversation moving.
"...The king is young," Braum sighs. "He will need guidance from somewhere, and it will have to be different from the guidance the Templars have been supplying thus far. We… hmm. Well, suffice to say that I have been made aware of corruption within our ranks that needs to be dealt with before we involve ourselves in the political scene at any level."
"And you think the political scene itself isn't full of corruption?" I ask.
There's a pause.
"...Not the kind I am capable of dealing with," Braum answers slowly. "I will have to be content with managing the Templars and restoring us to some level of proper order."
"But in the meantime, you are in charge of the city," I press.
"Functionally, yes," he confirms.
"In that case, how would you feel about a road through the forest?"
Braum gives me a quiet look, his soul churning in deep thought in a bunker on the other side of the city.
"...A road," he repeats uselessly. No, wait, not uselessly. We shouldn't jump to unflattering viewpoints as a default. It's not a waste, it's a tacit invitation to explain.
"I believe Lark and Cassia talked about trading salt," I explain. "It would help to have a route by which to make that possible. I'd like to enable people to travel more easily between our homes."
"...So that you can take more of them from Skyhope?" Braum grunts.
"No one lives in my town that hasn't chosen to," I promise. "And I don't mean that in the creepy I'm-an-animancer way, I mean we've actually put a lot of effort into making the place worth living in. And you guys have a pretty major wealth disparity problem that we don't. So really, any emigration is your fault."
Ha! So there. I'm getting so fucking good at negotiation.
"...Be that as it may," he sighs, "we can't actually spare the labor for such an endeavor."
"I don't need your help, I just want your permission," I dismiss, waving him off. "I can build, manage, and maintain the road all by myself."
"By yourself, do you mean personally, or…"
"Okay, yeah, it's gonna be with a lot of zombies," I confirm. "But I'll probably do a bunch of the initial excavating since it's faster that way. The Dregs and Risen will be for maintenance and safety."
He nods hesitantly.
"It's one thing to be at peace," Braum says. "It's another thing entirely to have active trade relations with a necromantic nation. I am… aware that you have little more than disdain for the Mistwatcher, but the people of Valka are still devoted to the Church's tenets. There is only so much bread we can break with a blasphemer."
I sigh. I was afraid of this, but I suppose it's how things usually go.
"See, that kind of talk concerns me, Braum," I answer as pleasantly as I can manage. "Because it makes me suspect that you're not actually interested in having peace in the first place. It makes me wonder if maybe you just don't think you can afford war at the moment, and so peace is convenient for you, and so you agree to it. For now. But the moment you think you have a shot, you'll take it. After all, we're blasphemers, like you say. You think the world is better without us in it."
It's not a question and he knows it, though I am somewhat annoyed to feel him not agree. Really? Does he think of himself as above his own actions?
"I feel as though I go to great lengths to respect opposing viewpoints," Braum protests. "Is this very conversation not evidence that I'm willing to work around the constraints of my faith?"
"I don't exactly feel respected by the guy who doesn't even want people to be able to walk down a road to see me," I answer blithely. "Are the residents of Skyhope sheep that you have to herd? Or are they people that can make their own decisions?"
"People, of course. But—"
"Then sometimes they won't choose you," I say, cutting him off. "I have recently been convinced that this is okay. That people should be allowed to choose. That some humans will be fine with how I want to do things, and some will not, and I should allow this. And so, Braum the Ubiquitous, I am here with terms of peace and offers of trade. But if you—or whoever succeeds you as ruler of this nation—ever decides that's not the way things should be done, if you ever want to insist that ideologies should be maintained through quarantine and force, well…"
I allow myself to float up in the air a little, so I can properly look down on Braum's projection, displaying my disdain in a way a human can understand.
"I will be most joyful to respond in kind. And there will be absolutely nothing you can do to stop me. You have seen nothing of what I am capable of, High Templar, so I suggest you stay friendly. I will be looking for an excuse."
The retinue of actual, non-illusory Templars around us hesitantly grip their weapons, but all I have to do is turn my head and glare. The hands move away, leaving the swords in their sheathes.
"...I think we could make space for a road," Braum says slowly.
"I'm so glad our negotiations can be beneficial for both of us," I respond sweetly.
Things go a lot smoother from there on out. The Inquisition is mostly ignorant as to the nature of our counter-plague, but there isn't actually a trap in it so they don't find one and the distribution proceeds quickly enough from there on out. I don't have to do a lot; after seeding a few notable people the plan is to literally just sit back and wait. In a month or so we should have full coverage, and once I confirm that we can move onto the counter-counter-plague to finally rid people of the indecency of having a mental compulsion to dislike a really horrible man.
I don't harbor any hope of Valka suddenly deciding to be all buddy-buddy with me. Even if I hadn't ended up resorting to threats to drive the negotiation again, there would be lingering animosity between us. They've all spent so long believing me to be a monster that has to be put down that they struggle to wrap their heads around being my ally, and frankly? The feeling is mutual. I'd love nothing more than to just smash the Templars like the fucking hypocritical idiots they are, but my friends want me to take the slower route. And that's fine. I'm immortal. I can wait.
Staying in Skyhope for any longer than I have to is a headache, though. The animosity and aggression that surrounds me wherever I go makes me twitchy, and I'm still not used to playing nice. I haven't attacked anybody, but it's been a close thing. It's a relief when I can finally head back home, hug my family for a few minutes, and then fly out to check on Lark and Penelope. Soul sense says they're both still alive, so that's one worry out of the way.
Penelope's eyes are closed and she feels like she's resting, so I touch down next to Lark. She's standing a respectable distance away, looking and feeling more than a little uncomfortable. She looks up at me as I land beside her, but she doesn't say anything.
"Everything alright?" I ask.
"Penelope's fine," Lark answers, which distinctly isn't a yes. "She started ripping trees apart with her bare hands a while back, but I just stayed away and she calmed down. Apologized, too."
"That's good to hear," I nod. "Uh… everything alright with you, though?"
She adjusts her weight awkwardly, hugging herself with her lower pair of arms.
"...Your emotional sense is kind of annoying," she mutters.
"Uh, sorry. Aren't you the one who told me to pay more attention to it, though?"
She puffs out her cheeks indignantly and looks away.
"I guess that's fair," she admits. "It's… about Claretta."
"Oh yeah?" I ask. "How did that go?"
She's quiet, and I start to feel that distant tint her soul gets when she relives a memory. It's not the kind of panicked spiral she usually has, though. It's more… bittersweet. So I leave it alone and wait for her to answer on her own.
"She's a broken woman," Lark says softly, "and it's my fault. What I did to her won't ever go away. It hurts, you know? I… it was in a cruel and possessive way, but I did love her. I think I still do."
Again, I say nothing. I've had a pretty bad track record on saying things to Lark, so I figure I should just keep silent. Her soul is still turning thoughts over and over, sorting information in a way that makes me think she'll start talking again without my input. I know she doesn't like me all that much, so she's not really saying this for my benefit. It's just… something she needs to say.
"I guess that's why it meant so much when she said she forgave me," Lark continues, letting out a shuddering breath. "I don't think she meant it, but she wanted to mean it. She hates me, but she doesn't think she should. Even after all I did, she thinks I earned forgiveness. And that… I don't know what that means."
Ah, shoot, I'm definitely supposed to talk now. What do I say? I'm not good at this stuff. Let's see… Lark still hurts. She's confused. She doesn't understand why Claretta feels that way, but it still impacts her deeply. Hmm, no, wait. I think she understands, she just doesn't… agree with what Claretta feels. There's always been a rock-hard core of self-hate to her emotional spectrum, at least since she killed August. It's still there, but it's finally starting to come loose. It's getting all the right nudges and taps, and maybe someday it'll finally break free and leave her alone. She needs another tap, I think. I can give that a try. It'll be a bit ham-fisted, but it's all I've really got.
"I think it means that it's time to forgive yourself."
Lark's ears flatten against the back of her head. I honestly have no idea if that was a good thing to say or not. I think I successfully chipped at the hate-rock a bit, but I also made her mad somehow?
"What would you know?" Lark grumbles quietly. "Do you even feel guilt about your actions? About any of the terrible things you've done?"
Of course I feel guilt, you little—calm down. She's upset. Right. Right, right, right. Okay, thanks Taal. What am I guilty about? The obarians, for sure. Letting Angelien die. But I guess I mostly blame other people for those things. What do I feel guilty about that's mostly my fault?
"Well, I feel pretty bad about what I did to you," I admit honestly.
Lark takes a deep breath, then nods.
"Right," she says. "You've said that before. Sorry. I just… it feels like whenever you're around, things go badly for me. When I first met you I lost Claretta, but then it was August, then it was the war and losing Melik, and then it was finding out about Nawra. It's hard to look at you and not wonder what terrible thing is going to happen to me next."
I stare at her for a bit, not entirely sure what to say.
"Oh," I ultimately decide on. "Sorry."
"It's fine," she says, memories starting to flash through her mind. "I'll get over it. Besides, maybe you're right."
"Hmm?" I ask.
"Maybe it's time," she says. "If even Auntie Princess agrees, I guess I'm running out of reasons to say no."
I choke out a surprised laugh at that, shaking my head.
"You can just call me Vita again, if you want," I assure her. "I think the Princess thing is a little much after all. Both of me are Vita, both of me are Malrosa. We like it best that way."
"Alright," Lark shrugs. "Anyway, do you have Penelope for now?"
"Yeah," I nod. "Thanks, Lark. You've been a big help."
She nods slowly, looking distant.
"Yeah, okay," she agrees quietly. "You're welcome, I guess."
She leaves, stewing in a complicated but not altogether bad set of emotions, and I walk over to sit next to Penelope. The next few days are about the same: I spend the night with the woman I love, pop over to Skyhope to manage the epidemic and talk to self-important humans, then return to help Penelope some more. Said 'help' usually just involves talking, cuddling, and providing reading material while making sure her soul is healing. And I'm… pretty sure that it is? It's in constant motion now, flowing and churning with pieces caught up in the current, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything dangerous. A few tests with my mana indicate that it's probably safe for her to start channeling normally again, despite the strangely fluid anima patterns. She's had a few bouts of sudden and hard-to-repress anger as well, but she hasn't directed it at anybody, so after three days I encourage her to head back to town.
"...I'll go if you escort me," Penelope mumbles. "I still don't trust myself."
"I can do that," I nod. "It's okay, Penelope. You won't hurt anyone."
She shrugs, looking about as small as an eight-foot-tall woman can. Her scales are a dull, watery gray.
"Maybe not today," she answers quietly.
I squeeze her waist with my right arms, trying to figure out why she's so depressed all of a sudden. She was really happy just a few hours ago. Maybe the stress of returning to town is bigger than I expected.
"Where do you wanna go first?" I ask.
"Can we talk to Jelisa?" Penelope asks. "I think she had a lot of things to say to me, but I wasn't really interested in listening to them before."
"Sure," I nod. "Yeah, I probably need to talk to her again too."
Today I'm the one to grab her and pick her up, flying the both of us into town together. I touch us down at the edge of town, though, wanting to walk from there to Jelisa's place so Penelope can see that everything has been okay in her absence. I think my trick partially succeeds. She's still sad and very uncharacteristically awkward, but I think she picks up on the fact that everything is still working as it should. It calms some part of her, even if she's not really calm overall.
We make it to Jelisa's place and knock on the door, even though there's no way she hasn't heard us. Humans like it when people are polite even if there's no point beyond the fact that people have randomly determined a given thing is polite. She gets up from whatever she was doing to open the door for us.
"Hello, you two," she greets us tiredly, stifling a yawn. "Would you like any breakfast?"
"Yes, please!" I confirm happily.
"Miss Vita! Miss Penelope!" a certain golden slime girl cheers, flowing down the stairs like a waterfall before reforming into human shape next to the door. "Hello!"
"Hey, Melissa!" I greet her back.
"Hello, Melissa," Penelope nods, smiling slightly.
"Could… could I maybe have a snack, Miss Vita?" Melissa asks, pushing the tips of each faux-forefinger together with childlike chagrin.
"Well, okay," I magnanimously allow, pulling out a sliver of my soul and crushing it to dust for her. "But only because you're so cute."
She giggles, wiggling happily as I sprinkle the raw anima into her body. Jelisa watches with a satisfied smile, seeming to be thinking to herself that everything she's done is worth it for moments like these. It's… an oddly touching emotional mix, and one that surprises me in a way I'm not sure I can articulate.
We relocate to the dining room, Jelisa and Melissa working the kitchen despite neither of them being able to actually taste stuff like a normal person. Not that I mind, of course. Food is food.
"Lark's not home, then?" I ask.
"She's usually still out and about this early," Jelisa confirms. "So what can I do for you two? I don't have any problems with a social call but it's not generally your style."
"I was hoping we could talk," Penelope says. "Just… talk. Like you offered back when we were departing Baldone. Like you did for Vita."
"Honestly, I should probably have another talk with you too," I shrug.
Jelisa nods slowly.
"Okay. I can make time for you, no problem. I… hmm. I think it would be easier if we did it one-on-one, though?"
Penelope and I look at each other.
"...At least for today, I'd be more comfortable if she was with us," Penelope says softly. "For your safety, if nothing else."
"Oh," Jelisa says. "Well, okay, if that makes you more comfortable. After breakfast, then?"
"Please."
We eat fairly quickly before moving into a side room and setting up some spells for privacy. Jelisa spends a moment gathering and preparing stuff while we wait, finding a notepad and scribbling who-knows-what onto it in order to try and plan for the day. I feel like we've probably imposed on her by coming here out of the blue like this. We should probably schedule these things. That'd help us attend regularly anyway. Still, it doesn't take long for Jelisa to come into the room, Penelope and I sitting on the quietly-protesting couch and Jelisa sitting in a chair across from us.
"Alright," she says, settling in. "What did you want to talk about, Lady Vesuvius?"
My girlfriend (hehe, my girlfriend) takes a deep breath before answering.
"...I feel as though I have forgotten how emotions work," she says. "Which is stupid, because I very clearly remember how emotions work. I still remember who I used to be, how I used to feel, and why I would feel the ways I did. But… that knowledge doesn't seem to apply anymore. It's more like I just feel emotions at random, without prompt or cause. They just happen."
"What kinds of emotions?" Jelisa asks.
"All of them?" Penelope hedges. "Happy, sad, angry, stressed… they're occurring now regardless of stimuli. I feel… uncontrolled, if not outright insane."
"Okay," Jelisa says slowly. "Well, as a matter of full disclosure, Lark and I have spoken about her time helping you adjust, and from what she's told me I don't think she'd argue you're uncontrolled or insane. Vita, would you agree or disagree with that?"
"I think she's sound of mind," I confirm.
"Given those reports, what makes you still describe yourself that way?" Jelisa asks, turning back to Penelope.
"Emotion should have reason," Penelope answers. "People get angry when they are wronged, they get happy when something good happens to them, etcetera etcetera. Emotions resulting from no stimuli are aberrant. They are a sign of an improperly functioning mind."
"According to who?" Jelisa asks.
"What?"
"Who determines the definition of a 'properly working mind?'" Jelisa asks.
Penelope stops and considers that for a moment.
"Well," she sighs, "It's true that such a claim isn't objective. But since it's my mind, I suppose I determine the definition. And I say it's aberrant. I don't like the idea of something as important as my own emotions being determined seemingly by random chance. It bothers me on practical and personal levels."
"Well, as you know, there's two ways we can go about managing your emotions. We can modify them directly through animancy, or we can take the longer, slower way. We can talk, we can introspect, and we can work as a team."
"Well, I suppose animancy is what got me into this mess," Penelope scowls. "So I'm in your hands, Jelisaveta."
"You're also in your own hands, Penelope," Jelisa answers. "Don't ever forget that."
Penelope smiles sadly.
"Oh, I won't. Together, then?"
"Together," Jelisa confirms.
"Together," I agree. "Let's make things better together."