Born a Monster

Chapter 462

462 Not An Elf

[Lucid Dreaming achieved.], my System told me.

Which was great, and all, but I hadn’t been trying to achieve such a state. It was just after my last report...

I suppose I should mention that. Never mention to your vengeance god patron that there’s a war going on. Well, maybe a quest to kill a hundred enemy soldiers with your own hands is something you’d like. I didn’t, especially because the riders I’d already killed didn’t count. Sentient mounts only counted if they served a god.

Any god; it didn’t matter. Something about soul energy of one lesser erg or greater.

When I objected, Sobek calmly asked me if I were planning on taking out more soldiers, and exactly how long I thought the war would last, and whether I was planning on counting the Tidelands Resistance as part of my wartime activities.

Good to know your god supports your efforts, and thinks you’ll survive them.

I was flying, swimming through the air, at a speed that kept me from smelling anything less than three city blocks behind me.

“Hey!” a passing blue stork shouted to me. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“I have no clue!” I shouted back. The air pulled at me, and I pulled back. There was no reason to be rude, after all.

.....

“Do you have a moment to talk about the lack of Master Aeromancers in the world?”

“I really don’t.” I said, “But if you have a System list you can transfer to me, I promise to read it.”

She snorted. “Don’t waste my time and energy. I can smell the water and fire oozing from your soul.”

“Among other things, I am a Truthspeaker.” I said.

[System documents transferred. Focus here to integrate...]

[Integrating System information. Please do not stress the System for an estimated fifteen minutes. Your System integration time is estimated at... twenty one minutes and thirty six seconds.]

Wait... Please? Since when did my System say please? Or thank you?

[Packet warning: Tampering with the data packet may slow your progress to Master Aeromancer. To ignore this warning and alter the packet...]

[System sanitizing data packet. This process may take up to two hours. Data is set to merge when process is complete.]

But I was soaring through the air toward a ... well, what a volcano would look like if it were all molten lava. And had a pair of glowing yellow-white eyes set above nasal slits and a mouth from which steam and smoke continually billowed.

Those eyes were squinting, and squinting directly at me, with a force so great that my speed of approach began to slow.

“WELL, SHAMAN?” it boomed at me, inhaling through its nose to keep me coming closer. “WHAT ARE YOUR FINAL WORDS?”

The eyes tried to look at one of the many small spirits hanging out at its right ear.

said another.

A woman made of flame emerged, yawning, from the flames that surrounded the volcano face. She set thoughtful burning eyes upon me, but said nothing yet.

“QUIT SCREAMING INTO MY EARS. I CAN HEAR YOU. THIS IS THE SHAMAN FROM THE WORLD OF ATHAL, FROM THE EASTERN EDGE OF GREYWOOD.”

More words were exchanged.

“IT’S NOT A HUMAN. ARE YOU SURE IT ISN’T ONE OF THESE ELVEN BULLIES?”

Words, words, and the woman put a hand over her face to muffle her giggles.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, MOVE? IF THE MORTALS WERE MOVING, WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO? NOW I LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT.”

“GET OFF MY FACE, YOU! I AM NOT AN IDIOT!”

The dark areas of his face began glowing forge red, and his hair expanded as it hurled off a fountain of fiery globules. As I was within radius of this fallout, I found it a good time to practice my aerial dodge skill.

[System purchases temporarily disabled; please wait until System Integration is complete.]

What? Why NOW? I spiralled, and zigged and zagged and flew in rings and hoops and whatever is parallel to both of those, and most of the angles in between.

And, when I failed, it burned away my dream clothes, leaving me unharmed by its passage. Because dream logic.

I exhaled.

Damn it all, but I had thought I was going to burn away to nothing.

I found myself almost crying. With each breath, I seemed to gain a bit of weight. As I descended toward a landscape of magma and drifting rocky plates, I angled toward the latter.

No sense in pushing my luck; touch enough dream fires, and one of them will burn.

The volcano god sighed, the force of its breath doing damage to my spirit. I don’t know how much, not in points; my System didn’t chose to inform me. It was little enough that it was healed in the morning.

“VERY WELL. YOU MAY GO UNBURNED FOR TODAY. HMM?”

The Volcano God rolled his eyes. “OKAY, FINE, BUT IT’S YOUR POWER AND NOT MINE.”

“BECAUSE ONE GOOD DEED DOESN’T... HUM?” He looked thoughtful for a while, and the burning woman took a dive into the lake I was descending toward.

Already beginning to sweat, I tried not to panic as the plates spread out away from her impact. I needn’t have bothered. As she rose from the lake of fire, her gaze halted my fall. She rose, all twenty feet of her, to where her face was only slightly above mine.

Her smile showed uneven teeth, but I had no doubt she could kill me with them if she chose. Or without them.

“You,” she said, “are marked as an Eternal Enemy of the Church of Xistos.”

“This I know.” I said. “Cassandra the Hangwoman was... I suppose she was merciful, which is not her reputation.”

She tilted her head, and smiled with a different set of mismatched fiery teeth. “All women have emotions. She was probably charmed by your youth. It certainly wasn’t innocence; you have led a vast and colorful life, to acquire so much sin.”

“It helps to defend from Taint, which, I’ve found, is not so rare as I might like.”

She breathed in a way that made it look like she had shrugged. “Taint comes in many forms, and hides in many places where it ought not to. And no matter how many times you groin kick them, there are some gods who refuse to acknowledge it as a problem.”

I eyed the Volcano God, who seemed to be talking to a second face of himself.

“Oh, not him. Fire Mountain’s been here since the age of the Protean Gods. His heart, such as he’s grown one, is in the right place.”

“Who, then?” I asked. “Which gods and goddesses should I worry about?”

“So trusting.” she said. “And yet so jaded. To think you come from Athal of all worlds.”

“There’s more than one world?” I asked.

“Hm? I’m certain I said no such thing.”

I squinted. “I’m equally certain you’re not denying such a thing.”

She chuckled, and then laughed. I got to see her teeth change. Some things, you cannot unsee; they’re with you for the rest of your life. The souls trapped in her teeth, forever screaming...

But there are worse gods and goddesses out there, at the risk of getting ahead of myself.

“But where are my manners?” she poured a liquid fire from one hand into the other, then back again. It must have been some manner of Inventory... and it was hypnotic to look at. “Hospitality demands I offer food and drink. This is both, to us divinities. Would you like to partake of some?”

YES, I almost said.

[You have resisted a Hypnosis Control: 4 mental attack. Ability I Eat Stress activated; you have received 4 points of mental damage, 16/40 Sanity remain.]

“I thought the food of the gods was lethal to mortals.” I said.

“Just so.” she agreed, “But you understand why I had to offer.” She leaned backward, pouring the white-hot liquid energy into her open mouth.

screamed one of the souls in her teeth.

“TUTU PELE, INCINERATOR.”

“You looked like you were thinking.” she said. “I decided to toy with the mortal while you were distracted.”

“AND WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNED?”

She pouted, and stuck out her tongue. “Not so much as I thought I might. He’s so very small, to be the cause of so much trouble.”

“IS HE?” I would like to call them beams of light from his eyes, but it was rather like they radiated in a conical fashion, and then focused on me. “AH, I SEE.”

“NOT AN ELF. NOT AN ELF AT ALL.”

[Permanent Spiritual Condition: Renewing Soul Mark – Not an Elf.]

[You are awake.]

If you plan on becoming a god, remember this figure. It is the immortal equivalent of a lead sinker, the kind that you can get twelve of per copper coin. (Or perhaps only four, given war-time prices.) But my point here is that it means a soul that harbors ten or more faith.

And yes, flames when it spoke. I got the sense less that it was being theatrical, and more that it was a mode of existance.