Born a Monster

212 Servant of the Axe – It’s Not A Ghost

Chapter Type: Character Development

“I mean, is it possible that it’s a spirit?” I asked Madonna.

“Although possible, have you seen such a spirit?” she asked back.

“Uhm. Rhishi? Have you ever considered that maybe it’s you?” Kismet asked.

“I doubt I’m taking control of people and turning them into racist ass-hats.”

“Ambassador, you have a habit of speaking the truth,” Gamilla said, “And another habit of feeling that you are on the level of anyone you talk to.”

Kismet looked guilty. “And up until now, you’ve only had a Charisma of one.”

“No.” I said. “It’s not just Spiro. Look at the Jarl. Look all the way back to the Guild.”

“Some people are racists, Rhishi.” She replied.

.....

“But it’s not the case in all of them. Okay, none of these were our friends to start with, but only later did they openly speak of such venomous hatred. Not like Wren; that guy was always a vindictive racist.”

“Ren?” Madonna asked.

“Wren.” Kismet said. “He was a pain in the entire Guild’s posterior.”

“Ambassador, it is more likely that your manners and mannerisms annoy these people than any magical reason.”

“I don’t control other people!” I said. I took a breath before continuing. “Not their thoughts, not their emotions, not their words or deeds.”

“You’re suuure you aren’t letting your telepathy get out of control?” Madonna asked.

“I have reason to believe that I’m not the cause of this.”

“And it’s not that these people are putting up a false front for the public, and showing you their true self only in private?”

“I’m a Truthspeaker.” I said, “Why would ANYONE reveal their secret any selves to me, ever?”

“Rhishi what abilities does that class have?” Kismet asked.

“I haven’t developed a single class ability for that class.” I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t even know how to gain experience in it. I’ve only got...”

[Truthspeaker, level 1. 113/300 XP toward level 2.]

“... thirteen experience that I’ve earned since getting the class.”

“I think I know what’s going on.” Gamilla said. “Ambassador, what is your title?”

“I am ambassador from the Red Tide Kingdom, also called the Tidelands.”

“No. That’s your job position. What is your title?”

“I don’t understand.” I said.

“Ugh!” said Kimet, striking her forehead with the back of her wrist.

“Idiot.” Madonna said. “What do you know about Titles? With a capitol T?”

“I...”

It spat back a list of titles at me, too large to store into a System list.

Kismet hit me in the eye. “Hey! Pay attention, this is important.”

“Husband, you notice how some people seem to radiate an aura, but only at certain times?”

“I thought that was just me being paranoid, sensing things that weren’t there.”

Gamilla blinked. “I keep forgetting how young you are. Ask your System what your active title is.”

“Titan-Spawn.” I said.

Without removing her wrist from her forehead, Kismet placed the inner side of her wrist on the table. “Moron.”

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, we’re all thinking that, husband. Have you ever noticed that when you remind people you’re a Truthspeaker, they sometimes treat you a little better?”

“Not often.” I said.

“He can’t be doing that without effort.” Gamilla said. “It just doesn’t work that way.”

“Not in your system.” Madonna said, “And certainly not in mine. Husband, tell us you’re a Truthspeaker.”

“I’m a Truthspeaker.”

“No, like you mean it. Like it matters.”

Kismet looked up. “Please.”

“My name is Rhishisikk, and I am Truthspeaker, or Speaker of Truth. I literally cannot lie to you.”

Gamilla nodded knowingly at Madonna. “What is your title now?”

[Truthspeaker]

“I’m more confused now. So, I just radiate a field of being what I say I am?”

“No, of course not, you dolt.” Madonna said. “Titles are things you EARN. You have to actually do or be the thing in order to use the title.”

“Ambassador, do you remember a season or so back when we tricked you into baking bread until you were good at it?”

“That’s just a skill.” I said.

“You didn’t get the Baker title?”

[Baker. Inactive. Earned by cooking various baked goods.]

“Aparently not.” I said.

“How do you cook that well without cooking titles?” Kismet asked.

“I always thought it was attention to quality, plus the way I actually imbued the food.”

“My husband has a habit of doing things he shouldn’t be able to do.” Madonna said.

I massaged my temples; I didn’t have a headache yet, but I felt one coming.

“You don’t NEED your System. You can do things it doesn’t track or can’t automate.”

“Yeah. Like brew healing potions. But it doesn’t ever work out right, does it?” Kismet said.

I shrugged. “One time in six or seven. But I’ve never tried making healing potions back-to-back, learning as I go.”

“Maybe you should.” Gamilla said.

“Maybe he SHOULDN’T.” Madonna countered. “Not all that seems un-natural is magic, but by its definition, magic is about changing nature. Including changing the magic user.”

“I change all the time, it’s part of life.”

“It’s a minor miracle your own magic hasn’t killed you yet!”

“That is an exaggeration.”

Kismet cleared her throat. “So, you DIDN’T light yourself on fire to get at Victor?”

“Not deliberately, no.” I said.

Madonna punched me in my arm. “Fire is my element. Water is yours. Drown your enemy, next time.”

“Getting away from the main lesson.” Gamilla said. “Ambassador, your default title seems to be that one about your birth. Might people be reacting to that?”

“...”

I sighed. “What have I been radiating?” I asked.

“Malice.” Said Gamilla.

“Anger.” Kismet said.

“Glory.” Madonna said.

Kismet looked at her sideways. “I’m not saying you’re not getting half my apple if we’re ever starving in the cold wilderness again, but it’s something I’m going to have to think about.”

“Fool, it’s something worth thinking about the first time.”

“When was this? When did I ever not provide you both with adequate food?”

NEVER ASK THAT.

They took turns, and I will never forget that I am not always the best of hunters.

Part of the problem was that my System had no problems changing out titles. Usually without my consent, or even my knowledge.

.....

Madonna waved a kerchief in my face.

“Awg, what IS that?”

“A kerchief.”

“No, that black powder that stings my eyes.”

“That’s just carbon. Helps to counter the scent of sulfur.”

“Don’t think of it as pain, think of it as PAY ATTENTION WHEN WE’RE TALKING TO YOU.” Kismet said.

What.

The.

Hell?

My title was still Truthspeaker; so, I did a quick Mystic Sight.

“Drown Curse!” I cast.

“What?” Madonna said. “No. Get off of that! IT’S MINE! Boil Water!”

“Madonna, it’s a curse.” I said.

“I need it to stay cruel and ruthless. It’s a flaw in my soul, okay? I’m sick, and that curse is the medicine.” Then her eyes lowered. “It’s the last thing my mom gave me before sending me into this world.”

Nope, there it was, full-blown headache. “Can you promise us it only affects you?”

“Like I’d let YOU take any power from my curse. It’s MINE.”

“That actually explains a lot.” Gamilla said.

“You can’t have it, either!” Madonna snapped at her.

Kismet put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Donna, neither of us want it. You shouldn’t, either.”

“It’s mine.” She curled protectively around it. “It’s mine. Go get your own damned curse. Leave mine alone.”

“Okay.” I said, letting my water mana settle again. “Okay. But if you ever wish to be free of that curse...”

“I won’t. This curse keeps me strong.”

“All right, then.” I said. “Sorry for meddling in your aura without being invited.”

“What? Rhishi, no. What if you were cursed?”

“If I’m ever cursed, any or all of you have my permission to remove that curse from me. Not my own oaths; those are mine. But any real, actual curse, you have my permission to remove.”

Kismet grabbed my left arm; Gamilla my right. Together, they knocked my chair over backward.

“We’ve got him.” Gamilla said.

Madonna sniffed, but pulled out a black book.

“What are you DOING?” I asked.

“What you just gave us permission to.” Madonna said. “Flames, children of the fires of hell, hear me, fear me, and obey! I command you to burn away this malevolent magic affecting my husband. Ignite Curse! Burn Curse!”

She grabbed something that didn’t exist at the back of my head and pulled slowly. It felt like there was an octopus of fire being pulled out of my brain.

By all rights, I should have passed out, but I was awake for every instant of that pain.

“Dafug...” I said, or something similar.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t make the damn things often.” Madonna said. “It’s pretty recent, though. Since the new moon.”

“Who would have done that?” I asked. “Who COULD have done that?”

“Someone with a bigger mana pool than I’ve got.” Madonna said. “That’s the night for me.”

[Error], my System responded.

Fine. I added it to the list of stuff I needed to look into.

I let Kismet lead me to my room; I needed sleep more than answers.