339 239 – Not an Ancestor

Plotline: Main

Type: Conflict, Interaction

“Fire, my servant, I am Incinerator Bei and I command you...”

“Mother Ocean, mother of life, it is I, , Shaman and Water Adept. Hear my plea, grant my request, form a protective barrier for me. Move Water, Water Wall.”

You will notice that my incantation uses more and longer titles. This is how she usually finished earlier, got her spells off quicker. Confidence, arrogance, call it what you want; mages call it efficiency.

Normally, I wouldn’t get off my invocation before her. But instead of projecting from her hands immediately, the flames needed to build before she could hurl her flame spear. It started slow, like a dart attack, only later increasing in power. It didn’t come all at once, and my water wall was there.

“No, no, no NO!” she shrieked. “What is wrong with my magic?”

“I’ve explained that. Manajuwejet has explained that.” I said.

“Hurled Flame!” she said, tossing a handful of flame into the same barrier.

.....

I yawned. “You don’t have much mana left.” I said.

“I have more than enough. Kill the Soul!”

“Drown Curse!” I cast reflexively.

Soulistics, properly speaking, are not curses. The spell shouldn’t have worked, the force of death should have come right through the water and torn at me.

It didn’t, but it did throw me to the floor, outside of the light flowing in from the window. Gods! It wrestled like a plains cat, going for my heart instead of my throat. But what it lacked was stamina.

And what she lacked was also stamina. “Where has my wind mana gone? My night power? Ugh, Vengeful Aura.”

“Bite of Anger.” I countered. It was like wielding a knife against a claymore. I took sixteen points of spirit damage from that attack, but she was unable to muster another.

She huffed and puffed, and pulled off two incantations that she couldn’t power, but forcing me to invest in defensive incantations of my own. So far, I hadn’t done anything to strike back; it was at this point that I hurled a handful of salt. Imbued with Disease, not Death, but not ineffective, I discovered.

“How do you do that, without even an incantation?” she asked. She bent over to pick up some of the salt and throw it back, but only singed her hand where she touched it.

She moved to strike at me with her fan, and I blocked her wrist, her elbow, and found myself unable to grapple with her.

“She’s not really there, kid.” Manajuwejet said. “You know that.”

“I know that, but I thought since she didn’t...”

“I’m right here! Hiyah!”

[You have taken three points of blunt damage. 39/80 health remain.]

I rolled beneath the next blow, came to rest on the windowsill. “And, now you can’t reach me. Not without hurting yourself.”

She tried anyway. “Ah, it’s like wading into acid.”

“It’s more than pain.” I said. Spend long enough in it, and it will leach memories, then personality traits, and then end by draining away your very existence. My spirit guide is right, you are ... less real than you believe yourself to be.”

She struck me with the fan for zero damage.

“Honored elder. Just cease. If you’ve gone through your mana, then you’ve nothing left. There is no shortage of salt.”

“Your cheat. You can’t beat me fairly.”

I blinked. “I have no need to confront you fairly. And there are... spirit beasts. Things that would regard you as food.”

“Yeah. Like wraiths and actual shades.” Manajuwejet said. “Elementals. Chthonics. There’s no shortage of nasty things that want to take a bite out of you.”

“Maybe I’ll take a bite out of them, instead. As our mutual student says, they are only beasts.”

“Yeah, you ever seen an unarmed human try to defend themselves from a badger? A wolverine? Don’t even get me started on what the actual angels can do to you.” he said.

She struck her fan across his circle. “Coward! You hide behind your ward.”

“Please.” I said. “Don’t hurt her, the inspector still has questions for her.”

“She’s too small, kid. It’s like seeking vengeance on a tadpole. Even when it grows up, it’s still just a frog.”

Bei Lala screamed wordlessly, striking his ward repeatedly. “You have no right to speak to me that way! You are kept, like a pet. Like a slave.”

“Kid hasn’t told you much, has he? I’m not in the least bit scared of you.” Manajuwejet said.

“Then come out. Come forth and face me.” she said.

“Please don’t. We need her alive, or as alive as...”

“I will show you! I will avenge myself upon my killer!”

“No, don’t!” I said, “You’ll end up as her plaything, suffering until your soul falls apart.”

But she bolted toward and then through the door.

“You could have run faster.”

I sighed. “If she needs to disregard the facts that badly, I can’t protect her. It’s better that she ...”

Truthspeaker Oath. “Crap. It won’t be easy to get her back from Madonna.”

Manajuwejet chuckled. “Pick your fights, kid. I’ve got a nest to get back to, and rest.”

“Do you sleep?” I asked.

“How else would I dream?” he asked.

He didn’t even cross the threshold, just vanishing into the spirit world.

“I bid you well, spirit. Thank you for honoring my request.”

I’d have to take care of the circle later. For the immediate time, my goal was to save ...

Why?

I was still through the door, of course, but ... why? Was I really willing to confront my wife, a devil? For...

I didn’t hate Bei Lala, but she hadn’t treated me that well when I was alive. As a dead remnant, she was even more of a burden.

It wouldn’t even take long. Might already be over.

It wasn’t. She was stuck outside the door, the wall. Of course. Madonna had always liked her wards, from the time we first met.

“Honored spirit, please. Come downstairs. You are making a scene needlessly. There is an investigator, and she is looking into your death.”

“My murder!”

“Look. I am a Truthspeaker. I literally cannot lie. To anyone. About anything.”

“Lies.”

“I don’t know what the truth is, but you aren’t aiding your case by running around recklessly. You are not making the image of a woman in control, struck down in her prime.”

“Oh? And how long will I have before I no longer remember to seek vengeance?”

“That will depend upon you. If you want to remain as part of the world, you must re-make your ties. Don’t focus on severing them. This is...”

And the door opened at that time. Ki Yingying poked her head out.

Bei Lala went through her, into the room.

“Ha! You think to possess ME? Come, hateful little spirit. Come.” Madonna said.

“Madonna, no.” I said. “The inspector may still have questions for her.”

“Her testimony is not admissible in court, which is the next phase for this. I have determined that there is enough evidence for an official inquiry.”

Madonna’s door closed behind her.

“Now, where is the water closet on this floor? I suspect my guard is there, dealing with questionable food choices.”

“This way, honored noble.” I said. But I looked back at Madonna’s closed door, unable to hear any of the screaming that must be going on within.

“Don’t worry; this is the way of things. The foreign noble has assured me she can make usable energy packets from the spirit, and more reliably than that... horror in the basement. How do you look at yourself in the mirror?”

“Everyone that I end, I first speak to what is left of them. They understand what is happening to them, and why. And those who choose otherwise... I do not end.”

“They are spared?”

“I cannot say that, for it is not the truth.”

“Then let me ask you again, Ping, how can you be part of that? What is the difference between what happened to your superior and what goes on in that...”

“Almost none, now that what remains of her is also to be torn apart.” I said.

“I was wrong about you, Ping. I thought you were joking about not being human.”

“Ah-ah. I’d rather not kill another child for you, Lady Ki.” came from inside the water closet.

“You are dismissed, Ping. Expect a summons to court. There is some consolation. That woman, who is currently your superior? She hates you.”

.....

“I suspected, but did not know.” I said. “Not for certain.”

She laughed from behind her fan as I left.

The sad truth is that I didn’t care. It wasn’t as if Kismet or Gamilla respected me, either.

Barely, just barely, we missed our mana quota. Four points. Not by as much as we’d failed some of our days under Incinerator Bei, but we missed it.

“You understand that if there’s an attack tonight, if someone dies, that it could be your fault?” Madonna asked.

“I understand no such thing.” I said. “It’s simple math. We’re so far above the success rate of normal conversion that it’s obvious why they leave that to the so-called apprentices.”

“Six percent.” she said. “There are those who think it’s all just coincidence. And the high mortality rate just reinforces that impression. They don’t have your divisor; can you train them to second level? Show these crusty old crones that there is a future?”

“I can.” I said.

She nodded. “Do so.”

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