“It’s none of your business, Vita,” Rowan insists.
“Well if it’s none of my business, then you’re not getting any of my money!”
Rowan and I managed to make it back to the shack’s underground before I started yelling at him, which I count as an impressive show of restraint on my part, but now he’s stonewalling me!
“Vita, we need you now more than ever!”
“And I’ll keep bringing food,” I promise. “But you’re not getting a single coin until we talk about this.”
“We’re not talking about this until you stop assuming I’m the villain here!” Rowan snaps back.
I scowl. Not entirely sure how he wants to frame pissing away money at a casino as noble, but he’s right. I haven’t really gotten his side.
“Alright,” I agree. “But you see where I’m coming from with this?”
“I do. And it’s true that I owe the Drakens a substantial amount of money because of gambling losses.”
I carefully keep my face neutral, saying nothing. I assume that’s not all he’s going to explain, considering none of that is positive. Rowan takes my silence for the push to continue that it is.
“The cards aren’t gambling, though,” he continues. “Not really. Luck is involved, but they’re fundamentally games of skill. On average, over dozens of rounds, the better player is going to come out on top. And I’m better. I got cocky once, sure, but I’ve been steadily remaking—”
“...It’s a trap,” I conclude, cutting him off.
“What?” Rowan asks.
“I said it’s a trap. Or at least I think it is. Can’t you still lose big again? What if you’re being set up?”
“It’s not like they can cheat me,” Rowan counters. “I bet I know more tricks than they do. Besides, their whole business falls apart if they’re caught cheating. Look, I promise, if I keep playing smart this is a sure thing.”
I scowl, not quite knowing how to handle this. I know gambling is bad mainly because of all the bums I hear telling stories about it. So many people have lost everything from gambling rings. It just seems like common sense to me that participating in one is stupid, so I’m at a bit of a loss to counter what Rowan’s saying. He knows a lot more about this than I do. The only thing I know that he doesn’t is…
“...Capita is a cognimancer,” I tell him.
That gets his attention, his eyes just about bulging out of his head.
“Cognimancer? Are you sure? Holy shit. Oh, fuck, holy shit. They’re going to drop an inquisition on us!”
“Yeah that… sounds bad. Honestly, I’m thinking that we shouldn’t tell the Templars about it? I’m kinda handling it.”
Rowan looks at me like I’m crazy, shaking his head.
“Vita, no, you can’t ‘handle’ a cognimancer. They’re crazy dangerous, they can infect anybody and no one can even tell what—”
“I can tell,” I insist. “I’m a better animancer than she is. She’s a natural, like I am… although maybe not in the same way I am? Her soul is really weird, but the point is I’m confident I can stop anything she does if she tries it around me, and I can see her trying it. You’re safe, Rowan. I’ll make sure she can’t touch you.”
He gives me that concerned stare of his, the one that makes it easy to see why Penta insisted he’s my dad. I guess he is, in the same way that Lyn is my mom. It’s a bitter time to admit it, though. I never thought my dad would be a deadbeat… but I guess I never really thought I’d have one at all.
“Vita… I appreciate that you’re looking out for me,” he starts slowly, as if still figuring out exactly what he wants to say. “What about everyone else, though? How many souls has Capita messed with?”
I frown, trying to mentally count them all.
“...I dunno,” I eventually conclude. “A lot, I guess. Why?”
“Are you going to protect all of them?” he asks.
That’s kind of a weird question.
“Of course not. How would I even do that?”
“So you’re just going to let her keep messing with people’s souls?” he presses.
“Yeah, basically? Look, Rowan, I don’t know those people, but I do know that Capita could kick my ass in a fight and chooses not to. She likes me for some reason. She’s making exceptions! I’m leveraging that as best I can for my family! Also known as you!”
Rowan is quiet for a long time, sitting with his fingers interlaced on his lap. He stares at the floor as I glower at him, both of us unsure of where to go from here. He’s just… ugh. I don’t know. I feel like Lyn gets me, even if she doesn’t understand everything. She’s supportive. Rowan says he loves me, and I think he does, but I don’t know! He’s critical of everything. It’s always concerned looks, vague promises, and—
“Hey,” Rowan says, standing up. “I think we started on the wrong foot today, Vita.”
“Oh yeah?” I grumble. “What’s the right foot?”
He steps over and leans down, grabbing and hugging me tightly. I stiffen with surprise.
“Welcome home, kiddo,” Rowan says. “It’s been a while. I missed you.”
“...M’not a kiddo,” I murmur quietly, reaching up to hug him back. “But I missed you too, dad.”
He chuckles, giving me another squeeze before standing back up.
“Oh, I’m finally ‘dad’ now? What brought this on?”
“Just… things and stuff,” I dismiss, waving a hand at him. “Lyn is mom, so…”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“You’ve been away a long time. I’m sorry Lyn and I both missed you last week.”
“That’s okay,” I say, shrugging. “I was only back for a few hours before they turned my ass around to finish the genocide.”
“...Sorry, what?” he asks, instantly concerned.
I sigh, starting the story of my past month of life, from the Nawra of Litia village to Penta’s death… though I leave out most of what I did today, saying nothing about starting animancy experiments with Penelope or meeting a True Lord. I don’t know why, but I’m kind of anxious about it. The whole experience still barely feels real, as excited as I am to use my talent more. Plus, I just think… well. Rowan wouldn’t approve, right? Maybe he would, but I’m afraid to find out.
I will tell him about what happened with Capita, though.
“So, how do you feel?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow.
“Fine, I guess?”
“How do you feel about the Drakens.”
“Um, pissed and a little freaked out, I gu— wait, shit. Vita did they…?”
“Yup,” I say. “Capita did something to you and Lyn… back when you joined, I think? She implied it made you afraid of her or Sky or something. I just had her undo it. So do you feel any different?”
“Well… I just learned she’s a fucking cognimancer, Vita,” Rowan grumbles. “So believe it or not, I’m still scared of the lady.”
“What about during that stupid card game?” I ask. “Or when we were walking home?”
“I dunno. I might have been less scared than usual. She started annoying me more than anything for a while there.”
“Alright,” I concede, not really sure what that means. “Well, the point is, she undid what she did and won’t fuck with you anymore. Also, I’m still not giving you any money until you stop gambling.”
“Wh— Vita!”
“And I’m telling Lyn.”
“Vita, don’t you dare.”
I snort.
“Or what? She needs to know. I just committed genocide, you think I’m going to balk at tattling to mom?”
Rowan pauses, his mounting fury suddenly evaporating.
“Vita… you didn’t commit genocide,” he insists.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Pretty sure I literally did. Nawra are people, they were forming a culture, and I slaughtered them wholesale. How is that not genocide?”
He shakes his head, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“You can’t think of it that way, Vita. You killed a lot of… people, sure. But you did it to save the people that were being victimized. You are a hero that saved a whole town from a fate worse than death.”
I shrug. It’s an empty distinction, as far as I’m concerned. I always feel the souls of the Nawra inside me, tempting my hunger. They make me wonder… what would happen to my Revenants if I die? Would they die and fall apart? Or would they keep living, free from having a master at all? I suspect they would. Other than loyalty, they have no particular tie to me. The shard I use to give them life doesn’t stay connected to my soul. They would be okay without me.
Would I, one day, be slain not by a monster, not by a zealot, not by a gang of bigots or criminals but by a hero? A savior to the likes of Theodora, someone just there to free those I’ve made victims? If I am killed by such a person, will Rowan smile and reassure them that it was the right thing to do?
Why am I more afraid of Rowan’s disapproval than I am of making victims in the first place?
“Rowan,” I murmur. “I think the Mistwatcher eats people when they die.”
He blinks with confusion.
“Uh, what? Why?”
“I’ve seen it,” I answer. “I see it all the time now, with my third eye. And… I saw it when I looked over the edge.”
My body and soul both shudder at the memory, the overwhelming majesty of it, the incomprehensible mass.
“The Mistwatcher’s soul…” I murmur, my voice a quiet monotone as emotions fail to properly form in the memory of what I’m describing, “...has tentacles like I do. Or something like its soul does, anyway. But while its body has eyes, the soul has mouths. It reaches those tentacles up to… to everyone that dies. Then it brings them back down, sometimes in broken shards, and…”
I trail off, unable or perhaps merely unwilling to describe the sensation of shattering, digesting, obliterating a person. I just wordlessly clench my hand into a fist.
Crunch.
“So… what does that mean, Vita?” Rowan asks, his face a mix of skepticism and curiosity.
“What if… I don’t prevent the afterlife?” I say. “What if being a Revenant is the only afterlife there is?”
He’s quiet for a long time, eyes distant. Rowan has and always will be a thinker, perhaps an overthinker. I’m sure he trusts I believe what I say. But does he trust I’m right?
“...We don’t really have any way to know,” he says eventually.
I feel like I know, I feel the certainty burning inside, but before I can protest the hatch above us opens, Lyn quickly hopping down.
“Hey, you two!” she grins, running over to yank us both into a group hug. “How have you guys been?”
“Lyn! Hey, you’re home early!” Rowan comments with a bit of forced cheer.
I just grin, squeezing each of them with one arm while I wrap some tentacles around Lyn’s soul. Ah, I love hers! It’s my favorite. So warm! ...I’ll let Rowan have soul-hugs when he stops gambling like an idiot.
“Yeah!” Lyn answers happily. “They said I earned some time off! Isn’t that awesome?”
I scour my vision across the inside of my mother’s soul, looking as quickly as I can for that telltale purple scar. Nothing. There’s no signs of tampering. I double-check and triple-check, focusing on the infinite pathways of her soul as I make absolutely, completely sure there are no foreign elements.
“Vita? Honey? Hey, you still in there, kiddo?”
“M’not a kiddo,” I respond automatically, pulling my attention back to the physical world where Lyn is trying to peel herself out of the hug. “Have you seen Capita today, Lyn?”
Instantly, her eyes go wide, consumed by fear.
“How do you know that name? Did she come after you? Vita, are you okay, have you—”
“I’m fine,” I say cutting her off. Why is she still scared? “Have you seen her? Yes or no.”
“No!” Lyn insists. “No, no, thank fuck no.”
What the fuck? But I don’t see any problems with her! Oh, damnit. “I cannot heal that which is scarred over.” That’s what Capita said, but what the hell does it mean? I grab Lyn again and squeeze her even tighter. I’ve never seen her this afraid of anything before. There’s nothing I can do about it yet, though. Not until I understand more.
“Woah, hey. It’s okay, I’m here, I’m fine.” Lyn assures me, rubbing the top of my head as I bury my face in her chest.
“Three things to tell you,” I murmur.
“Oh yeah?” she asks.
“One: Rowan’s addicted to gambling. Beat him up for me.”
“I am not—”
“Two: the scary lady is a cognimancer. But I’ll protect you, okay?”
“Vita… what?” Lyn murmurs. “Hey, you don’t…”
“Three: can you steal me some metal? I need it for stuff.”
Lyn turns her head, raising an eyebrow at Rowan for a moment before turning back to me.
“What the heck do you need metal for, kiddo? I mean… I guess you know by now how big of a thing you’re asking for, right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think I’m gonna need it to not get caught and killed by templars.”
Lyn nods.
“Well. Uh. In that case… I’m sure I can scrounge something up for you.”
I smile. I have the best mom, and I won’t tolerate a single bad thing being done to her.
Not from anyone.