《Vigor Mortis》47. Work-Life Balance
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“Well, shit, here we are,” Norah comments happily. “Is it just me, guys, or was this mission way easier than the last one?”
The rest of us trudge out of the forest behind her, looking up gratefully at the distant but finally visible walls of Skyhope. We’d made it to the ring of cleared land around the city, which more or less marks the successful end of our mission.
“We did well!” Bently agrees excitedly. “Everyone is doing much better now!”
“I’m feeling a bit outpaced,” Orville complains. “You’re all figuring out your talents, Vita has two now, both of which are fucking insane, and I’m pretty much the same as always.”
“Don’t worry, Orville!” Bently answers. “You’ll get strong, too! You already are!”
“Whatever,” Orville grumbles. “We were just carried by Penelope and Vita again.”
I’m too tired to shoot him a sympathetic look, and I’m not sure I could muster a proper one regardless. We got sent out to go scout and destroy Nawra in the forest almost immediately on getting back, and I’m still freshly reeling from the aftermath of Litia. On returning, I’d only had a couple hours to rush home and talk to my family, but Rowan and Lyn hadn’t been there. Another ten days later, and we’re finally getting back to the city for a more reasonable amount of time. I’m exhausted, albeit more emotionally than physically. A fresh supply of souls has kept me up and moving where I otherwise might not be.
Fed up with holding back and suspected of heresy by the Templars anyway, I told my team about my ‘second talent,’ the deathtouch… which has since evolved into a death aura. Walking into small groups of monsters, I can just send tentacles into them if they’re close enough, soul-ripping them all at once. My tendril range is only about three feet so far, but they’re slowly growing longer as I eat more and more. The ability makes many otherwise-dangerous pack-hunting creatures trivial, and since we weren’t going very deep into the forest those kinds of creatures tended to reign supreme. With my recent hatching and impressively robust diet, the whole trip turned out to be quite the buffet. If not for how badly I’ve been itching to go home the whole time, it would have been kind of nice.
“I mean we did our part, Orville, but you’re not entirely wrong,” Norah says. “Seriously Vita, what kind of magic push-ups have you been doing, girl? I have never seen a talent as crazy as that.”
I shrug.
“I’m sure there are Hunters and Templars with stronger stuff.”
“There are,” Penelope confirms. “We did just go on a trip with Gladra the Annihilator, after all. The other High Templars are comparable to her.”
“What’s she like, anyway?” Orville asks, perking up a bit. “Gladra is a legend! The strongest talentless mage.”
Well, I guess I can see why he’d be fond of her, but…
“She’s awful,” I answer flatly. “She pretty much spent the trip harassing me for fun, and she almost choked me to death once.”
“Yes, she’s clever but I got the distinct impression that she’s mentally unstable,” Penelope answers. “She kept deferring to a Templar squad leader that she should have technically outranked. Perhaps the clergy are aware and assigned her a handler.”
“Oh,” Orville grumbles, his mood dropping even lower than before. “Figures.”
“Apparently she got super strong by channeling mana constantly, even when she isn’t casting a spell,” I comment.
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“What!? How is she even alive? One mistake and… Watcher’s eyes, that’s fucking insane!”
“Yes, case in point,” Penelope answers blandly.
I shudder a little. Watcher’s eyes. I get why that’s such a common swear, now. I roll my own eye around in my body, for no other reason than to enjoy the idle movement. We had a successful mission, all in all. While it’s impossible to know if we’ve cleared the forest of Nawra entirely, we did find and subsequently kill a significant number of them, which will doubtlessly please the people in charge. While I ate the feral ones we just caught, every Nawra from Litia bar Remuslime is still stored safely inside my body, plus the human soul of Theodora. Penelope was firm on the point that I should keep her soul safe; apparently she still has things she wants to ask the woman. Since she now gets to ask them without worrying whether or not Theodora will be inclined to answer, I get the impression that she’s not super torn up about Theodora’s death.
Whatever, I’m not either. I just care that I caused it. People die, but I don’t like being the one to kill them if they don’t deserve it. I’m still furious at myself about it. Hopefully she won’t mind being a Revenant too much. Not that she’ll have a choice, I guess.
Soon enough we’re back at the gate, where a biomancer is now stationed to scan every single person to enter. It would probably be a pain if there were any significant number of people trying to enter the city, but travel tends to be limited and they have more biomancers on duty when farmers are lining up to import their wares. Penelope seems mildly offended to be subjected to the scan, as she’s apparently modified her body to be permanently inhospitable to Nawra. Or so she claims, anyway.
“Is it alright if I break off here?” I ask my team. “I need to go home.”
“Aww, you’re such a good daughter, Vita!” Norah coos.
“I wouldn’t mind helping you carry stuff, if you want,” Orville offers. “I have nowhere to be.”
“I need to resume your family’s treatments,” Penelope comments idly. “It’s unfortunate we’ve been away so much.”
“Well, I mean, if we’re making a thing about it, I do kinda want to meet your family,” Norah says awkwardly, scratching her cheek.
“Oooh! Ooh, can I come?” Bently begs.
I look up at everyone, a slightly annoyed expression on my face. I’ve been looking forward to some time to myself and my de facto parents or older siblings or whatever Lyn and Rowan are to me. Family, somehow, or at least the closest to family that I can understand. Still, though, I’m not one to waste opportunities.
“You can only come if you help buy food,” I tell them.
“...I’m giving your family free magical health care,” Penelope reminds me, smiling wryly.
“You’re also the richest person here by several orders of magnitude,” I answer, merciless. “Pay up.”
Everyone agrees, to my surprise, but apparently I shouldn’t be that shocked. Normal people buy food for each other all the time, I’m told. Sounds like a wacky practice to me, but I’m happy to take advantage of it. My team even buys food around the gate, which is all massively overpriced but admittedly very tasty. Not that the kids will care; food is food. I buy from a more reasonable stall deeper into my part of the city.
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As we get to poorer and poorer districts, Bently starts giving away more and more of the food he bought, to my increasing irritation. I’m not opposed to charity in general. It’s how I survived a significant portion of my life, after all. That food is supposed to be for my family, though! Yet the poor guy looks so horrified at the state of the bad part of town, I leave him be. Then some moronic kid tries to steal something from Bently’s pockets, though, and I just about lose it.
“Are you fucking stupid?” I growl, snatching the girl’s wrist. “If you steal from the people giving things away, they won’t come back.”
“Nobody comes back anyway,” the tangle-haired brat hisses through missing teeth.
She can’t be more than eight years old, being a head shorter than even me. The girl’s blonde hair is closer to brown from all the dirt in it, and she glares up at me with the kind of piercing, cynical eyes I know all too well. I snatch the stolen money from her hand, glaring right back at her.
“I come back,” I snap. “And if you don’t learn to pick your targets better, you’ll be lucky if the next heavily armed hunter team you steal from stops after breaking your fingers.”
Scowling, she pulls her hand away, rubbing her wrist. Bently gives her some food anyway, and she runs off.
“Don’t you think that was a little harsh, Vita…?” Norah asks, her voice a mix of shock and concern.
“I’ve seen people die stealing from the wrong person. I was almost one of them. I hope that was harsh enough.”
“You could maybe encourage her to not be a thief?” Orville posits.
“And do what instead?” I ask, exasperated. “You wanna adopt her, Orville? Come on, let’s go. If we try to help everyone in the city we’ll die of old age.”
I stomp off, feeling a lot more angry than I know I should be. The others follow in silence, letting me stew. It’s obvious that I’ve been a bundle of stress and nerves since Litia, but I haven’t told the others why. Maybe Penelope has, but even if she did or if I told them myself, I’d still have to leave out the most important part. The part I can’t get over. The part where Penta is dead because of me.
She’s right here, hidden inside, and yet I can’t talk to her. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her! I fucked up bad so Penelope killed her and I can’t even be fucking mad at her about it because she fucking saved my life! I’m the only person I can blame.
It isn’t long before the shack comes into view, and while a few people— likely informants for the Drakens— peek at us as we pass through the alleyways we aren’t accosted further in any way worth mentioning. The slab of wood that passes for our door is shut, the kids perhaps wisely deciding to act as though no one is home as five heavily armed and armored people approach them. Soon, though…
“Vita!”
A tide of children rushes out of the shack, forcing me to drop to my knees or risk getting bowled over. The youngest ones hit first, swarming me with hugs. Holy shit, but they look so much healthier. It’s obvious that they’ve made good use of the money I left them. They still look starved, honestly. Cheeks hollow, bodies frail, it’s much the same sight I’m used to seeing… but because I’m so used to it, the improvements are striking to me. Just a bit more flesh where I’d expect bone, just a smidgen more color where I’d expect ashy skin. It’s no question why they’re so happy to see me: at this point, I’m a better supplier for them than Lyn is.
Considering that the only reason Lyn hasn’t stolen them the whole island already is the Drakens, I suspect that damn gang isn’t too happy with me. That’s a problem that will be heading my way soon enough. Not yet, though. Not right now. Right now, I have something more important on my mind.
“Vita,” Lyn says, exiting the shack after the wave of kids.
“Hey mom,” I answer, grinning up at her.
She blushes lightly, turning away and giving me a sideways look.
“N-now you quit that, Vita. Is this your whole hunter team?”
“Yup,” I answer, nodding. “You know Orville and Penelope already. That’s Bently, and that’s Norah.”
Bently waves, already having made fast friends with one of the kids thanks to gifts of food and a heaping helping of his hearty Bently-ness. Norah nods at Lyn, still taking in the scene. It’s funny to me how out-of-sorts people look around my home. It must be like how I feel around the richer districts.
“I… a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Norah says politely, nodding.
Lyn dramatically grunts a pained noise, twitching like she’s been struck.
“No ma’am stuff! Please! I’m only twenty-three!”
“Uh…” Norah says, looking around at the twelve children.
“They’re adopted!” Lyn insists, then realizes her mistake. “No wait, shit! I mean I’m not their mom! I just take care of them.”
I can’t help but laugh. The food that had been in my arms is long gone now, exposing the real reason so many of my siblings— and I guess that’s really what they are— had been in such a rush to hug me. I give firm instructions to my team to not let the kids eat too much so they can spread the meals over a few days. Then I break off, approaching the shack and… my mom.
“It’s great to see you again,” she says with a smile, pulling me in for a hug. “You been doing okay?”
I swallow, feeling tears form unbidden and doing my best to hold them in.
“I’ve been better,” I whisper. “Is Rowan around?”
“No,” she answers. “One or both of us is pretty much always with the Drakens, even at night. Things have been getting better, thanks to you, but we’re being run ragged. I don’t think it’s spite on their part, though. I think they’re just gearing up for something big.”
I nod, letting her slowly lead me to the hatch downstairs. We jump down and immediately she’s holding me again, somehow knowing I’ve been starved for the contact. Carefully, I reach my tendrils through her belly, lightly wrapping her beautiful, warm soul that glows like the sky. Immediately she jerks, back arching and body shuddering.
“Aaahh…!?” she yelps. “I-is that you?”
I retract immediately, startled by the reaction despite myself. I suppose Penta acted like that the first time, too.
“Y-yes. Sorry. Is it weird? I’m just, um… sorry. Sorry.”
“It feels like my own fear of mortality just grew arms and started to hold me,” Lyn remarks with a dumbfounded expression. “Kinda nice other than the constant panic-inducing heart attack. What the heck did you do?”
“I… hugged your soul,” I answer. “With my, um, tentacles.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“With your what?”
“M-my tentacles,” I repeat, demonstrating by grabbing and twirling my hair around them. “I have, um, invisible tentacles coming out of my soul.”
“Of course you do!” Lyn says, her voice excessively pleasant as she stares at my head. “Well! That’s… certainly a thing! But may I just say what the fuck?”
“I grew them when I hatched from my egg,” I explain. “My, uh, soul-egg, I guess. The Mistwatcher looked at me and broke my shell. I have a soul-eye too. It’s neat.”
There’s another long pause, and eventually Lyn just pulls me back in for another hug. I hug her back, just using my arms this time, and squeeze her as hard as I can.
“Oh, honey,” she says softly, holding me close. “Is this what has you so out of sorts?”
I swallow.
“No. The soul stuff is fine.”
“What is it, then?” she presses softly. “What happened?”
The tears start to come back. I give up on holding them in this time, with just Lyn and I here. I have plenty of clean water now, so it’s not a waste. Here, alone together, it’s okay.
“Penta’s dead,” I answer, my breath starting to come out in gasps. “Penelope had to kill her because I did something stupid. I-I just… I don’t know what to do. I have my friend’s soul, Lyn. B-but you saw Grig. You remember him? He was different. I don’t know if Penta would be different. And if she will be… I d-don’t know if I w-want her to be!”
I break into sobs, squeezing my mom tight. The fact that she’s dead, the fact that I’m the one who got her killed… those things hurt me. I hate them, regret them, and wish they weren’t true. Yet what has really been ripping me apart inside is that I can bring her back. I can bring her back any time I want, but it just doesn’t feel right to do it.
“I know it would be wrong,” I sob. “She’ll be different if I bring her back. I don’t want her to be like Grig. But it’s either that or I don’t get her for a long, long time. Or maybe even at all!”
Lyn is silent for a while, holding me close and letting me cry into her chest.
“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” she answers eventually, her eyes distant. “To be able to bring someone back from the dead, but to… bind and change them like you do. It’s a heavy power, Vita. Strong, useful, and frightening. There are ways I’ve wanted you to use it for us, you know.”
I turn my face up, puffy eyes staring at her.
“Like what?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she dismisses softly. “You’re doing more than enough as it is. I would much rather you be safe than give us a single thing more. But what was it you said about maybe getting your friend back after a long time?”
I sniff up some snot, trying not to get any more of it on Lyn’s clothes.
“I… it was just a thought Penta and I had before she died,” I say. “My talent makes people weird and creepy, but if I learn real animancy… I could maybe change it so it brings them back normal. Even if… you know, still dead. And we thought maybe it might be possible to make a living person, if I was really good.”
Lyn’s eyes go wide as she chews on that thought.
“Well. Your friend’s soul isn’t going anywhere in the meantime, right? You’re keeping her safe?”
I nod.
“I-I think so.”
“Well then don’t think of her as dead at all,” Lyn answers. “You’re just apart for now. It happens. Sometimes we don’t get to see people we love for a long, long time, but that doesn’t mean we care about them any less. If there’s a way, Vita, you can work to find it. Your instincts are right, it’s okay to wait. Listen to your gut on it, kiddo.”
That, I don’t know about. If I’d listened to my gut she’d have been eaten long ago. Still… I feel a lot better just being here, talking with her about it.
“Thanks, Lyn,” I choke out. “Can I hug your soul again?”
Lyn tenses a little, then sighs the kind of exasperated sigh reserved exclusively for mothers.
“...Yeah, Vita,” she answers. “Gimmie a good soul-snuggle.”
I gratefully oblige, making sure not to squeeze too hard. I can’t let my hunger get the best of me.
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