Thar Shaddin

Vanyusha remained silent, his back pressed against the door. Slowly his body began to relax, and eventually it went completely limp. Suddenly his limbs lost their shape and melted into blobs of black gunk, somehow still attached to his body. His golden eyes grew dim and drifted toward the floor, almost as though he lacked the energy to keep them raised.

"...Ivone, was it?" he spoke finally, his voice more human than before. "As stupid as this sounds, there's no reason to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you, and as you can see I couldn't even if I wanted to."

Sighing, he closed his eyes. Everything was coming back to him. How long had it been since he last experienced clarity? There was no way of knowi]ng - he existed outside of time now. He struggled to stand up, only to collapse back to the floor in a heap of robes and sludge. Guess he wasn't gonna have a chance to stretch.

He fell sideways, hitting the floor with a soft thunk. "Well this is new. Looks like the fucker rigged my body to collapse if I regained my identity again. Can't say I blame him after last time..."

Gathering his energy, he forced his gaze onto Ivone. "I'm going to do my best to explain. I'm experiencing a lucid moment right now, but since I don't know how long it'll last I'll get the important stuff out now: leave the moment you notice me slipping and tell the authorities I'm a dangerous killer. I'll probably be gone before they can get me, but it might stop me from hurting anyone.

"I've been possessed by something for a long time, maybe decades, maybe centuries. It represses my memories and fills me with a strong urge to torture and kill people. Somehow it's growing from watching me do this, like a parasite feeding on other people's misery. I get these little lucid moments whenever something triggers my memories, but it isn't long before whatever the hell's inside me wipes my mind and takes over again.

"I don't know why I wanted to meet with you, but my intentions definitely weren't good. But I still won't be able to hurt you when I slip away - last time this happened I managed to get a priest to cast a spell on me so I couldn't hurt anyone directly. I probably wanted to abduct you and have some sick bastard I hired torture you. That's what this thing has been making me do since then."

He forced a sad chuckle. "Guess I kind of killed the mood for tonight, huh?"

Ivone watched as Vanyusha went through some odd transformation. His whole body seemed to sink in on itself coming to look more like a black blob of dough than some evil monster set on harming her. His voice emanated from behind the mask, but seemed smaller somehow. Where before, the voice has almost resonated within the mask, the reverberation was gone. Now, it seemed more… human.

Ivone nodded slowly, her eyes wide. Vanyusha tried to stand, if one could call it that. Perhaps he was more like the gelatin the butcher made with bones than a baker’s unformed dough. Suddenly, he seemed so sad and … pathetic. And… boneless.

When Vanyusha fell, Ivone moved without thinking, coming to her knees beside him, her hands stretched out as if to catch him. The black draped over hands, but was firmer than she expected, maybe he was more like beeswax. It was heavier, too, than she expected, heavy enough to knock her over a little. Vanyusha’s tone of voice was normal, but Ivone thought she heard a tremor of… compassion? Fear? Sadness?

The moment he slipped? Wasn’t he already slipping? Ivone was confused for a moment, thinking he meant the state of his body. Why was she even touching him?! Ivone started to move back, but found his body had sort of oozed around her knees. He was not solid, but certainly not as easy to get free from than one would need to leave.

“Y-yes,” Ivone moved back. Her right hand supported her body and sat on a part of Vanyusha. She’d managed to pull her left free. While she was working that hand free, Vanyusha had looked up at her.

“T-torture?” Ivone focused on that word, adrenaline making her body chilled. “Then… then maybe you should talk about your memories? To keep it away longer?” Ivone did not know anything about magic, but weren’t there always something like amulets or stones or some sort of something that curses were tied to?

“I- is it the mask? Is it tied to the mask? Fairytales and Fables always talk about there being some kind of object a curse is tied to?” Ivone turned her body. She was on her rear now, legs stretched forward, but she couldn’t see them. Vanyusha’s body had flowed forward, too, covering her knees. Had he been solidly … human… he might have been leaning over her and toward her as if making a point.
Ivone’s feet scrabbled on the floor as she worked to back away from him. Her slippers remained under Vanyusha’s bulk, but she managed to lift her knees and pedal backwards, hard. Adrenaline was like that.

For the first time, Ivone realized that Vanyusha’s body felt a little on the cold side, almost like a cadaver – like Tian had felt when she’d touched him as he lay in the casket. She had scooted back until she her back was pressed against something solid. In one last attempt to push back, she pedaled her legs again.

Whatever it was that blocked her way… Ivone turned her head to look over heard shoulder. It was a bookself. No, that wasn’t going anywhere. When she turned back, that horrid mask bobbed up and down, as if it were a piece of detritus floating in the river. There was that word again – torture.

“W-well, you can’t. To me, I mean. You can’t. I have something I have to do!” Tears were rising in her eyes and but determination kept her voice mostly steady. It did waver some, mind. Fear that she might not succeed in her plans did that.
“I have to get back at that battlemage. So!”

Ivone inhaled a shuddering breath. “Your monster will have to wait for me to do that first!”

"Guess I kind of killed the mood for tonight, huh?"

He… he laughed? He made jokes?!

“Quite!” Was all Ivone could think to reply and reply she did, rather indignantly.

Vanyusha watched as the tears streamed from her eyes, and would have certainly looked surprised if not for his mask. Battlemage? He racked his brain for a moment. Ah, those elite agents in that Marn city he was living near. Strange that a mild-mannered girl like Ivone would have a vendetta against one of them. Still, that was a piss poor excuse for getting a murderer to spare someone, though he wouldn't dream of telling her that. Being under a puddle of... whatever the hell he was now was upsetting enough. He needed her to calm down in case he lost control again.

"Ivone, you don't need to worry about that," he said gently. "You aren't in danger anymore. I don't know what I was planning under that thing's influence before, but it's a moot point now. If I start reverting you'll be able to tell, and you'll have plenty of time to high-tail it out of here before I reform my body. Okay?"

Mustering all his willpower, he grunted in pain and retracted his oozing body away from Ivone until he was a compact heap against the door. After a pause he spoke again: "To answer your question, no, it isn't the mask. It's a long story, but I used to wear this get-up shortly before I got possessed. I guess my parasite decided to keep it to hide what's happened to my body."

He glanced down at his malformed torso - the only solid part left of his body. "There's a relic embedded deep in my chest; it gives me my powers and keeps me alive. Bad part is that some damn ghost or something's inside it, and for some reason it's mission in life is to fuck with me and kill as many people as possible. Taking it out isn't an option - a few people volunteered the first time this happened, and it really didn't go well for them."

They could attest to that themselves if they were capable of talking. He glanced down at his chest, sensing their essences within him. He may deserve this hell for having his kids killed, but these people only tried to help him. They didn't deserve being used as the artifact's puppets.

His thoughts returned to the day he met Syrathan. He was torturing one of them right before Syrathan wandered over. The noise... Part of him was grateful he'd be slipping away soon, there was no way he'd be able to live with that.

No, he couldn't dwell on the atrocities that thing had him commit. Time to change the subject.

"So, your date's a demon-possessed puddle with multiple personality issues. I'd advise against using this dating agency again," he said with a forced chuckle, his voice tinged with sadness. "I understand if you want to leave now, you kinda got more than you bargained for with this one. You can just push me away from the door, my body won't jump up and grab you or anything like that."

Did he really want Ivone to leave? No; this was his first time talking with someone in maybe decades. But the longer he stayed with her, the harder it would be for him to accept turning back.

Ivone nodded, the violet of her eyes more vivid from the tears that slowly dried. Ivone lifted the back of her hand to her cheek and inhaled a breath. The breath shuddered from her as if she had come to a momentous decision.

“Do you…” she breathed out the words. Ivone shifted to her knees to peer earnestly at Vanyusha. She leaned forward toward the mask, lifting her hands to touch the bone mask with her fingers, to lift it so the gold of his eyes faced her. She moved closer, shifting on her knees.

“Do you… do you think it might help me do what I need to do?”

She moved closer again. She was so close, if he had a sense of smell he would be able to smell the soft perfume she wore. Her hand slipped to where Vanyusha said the relic resided, hand flat and fingers splayed. Was there a hint of bone-chilling cold there?

“I would gladly submit to whatever it wanted of me if I accomplished my goal first. Whatever you want me to do. ” She peered at him, but she looked so, so sad.

“I know I can’t do what I need to on my own. I know I need magic to take down the battlemage and his masters.”

Her voice was soft. Her eyes were wide. Even now, tears clung to long lashes, turned a darker shade from them. But, there was no crazed look in her gaze. She was deadly serious. Ivone reached for the blobby bit that had been his hand and pressed it to her breast, a breast bare but for the thin night-shift she wore. Her heart beat was steady, if a tad fast.

“It can do whatever it wants with this body if… if it can help me.”

Well, this was unexpected... and awkward.

She mentioned having a mission to finish or something like that earlier, but he never imagined she would try to ally with his parasite. The look on her face, the determination in her voice, the fact she'd make a sexual pass at a living blob - to say it reeked of desperation would be putting it mildly, especially for that last part. Whatever she wanted was obviously important to her, but nothing was worth teaming up with that monstrosity festering inside him. He thought back to the Remathia boy, his "master," who had been innocent until they crossed paths.

The parasite was a creature of influence. Even while dormant it corrupted him and those nearest to him. Ivone was a stranger, but she seemed like a nice enough girl. He had to make her understand what she was dealing with.

"Firstly, while I'm flattered I don't think my parasite is very interested in sex," Vanyusha said with a forced chuckle. "Besides, you can look around in my gunk all you want but you're not gonna find any equipment, if you catch my drift." He paused. "Let me show you something..."

A poorly formed tentacle rose from his body and gently pushed Ivone back. As Vanyusha moved her away a handful of glowing yellow circles appeared in his body, and then began moving away from him, dragging part of his ooze with them. Small heads began forming around the circles, and the ooze transformed into small bodies for them. But the transformation wasn't complete - the creatures look half-formed and were still attached to Vanyusha. They whined softly and struggled to break free, clearly in agony.

"When I'm under my parasite's control - when I'm Vanyusha - these creatures are my servants. The parasite uses them to hurt and abduct people since I can't anymore." Vanyusha's control faded away, and the fledgling creatures sank back into the ooze. "They are all people who associated with me in the past. Two of them were siblings - a young woman and a little boy. My parasite absorbed them over two centuries ago, and they've been in constant pain ever since, conscious within me every waking moment."

His eyes glowed intensely, fixing on Ivone. "You saw what it's done to me. You saw what it's done to those people. If you try to buddy up with it, I promise it'll do the same to you sooner or later. No matter how important this mission of yours is to you, Ivone, it isn't worth hell."

Once, there was a pretty, little girl born to a well-to-do, upwardly mobile, upper middle class family. The parents invested in and made much of their precious, beautiful, little girl. She would be the culmination of the familial desires to be accepted into the elite class. And, so, the little girl was groomed by the best tutors and paraded in front of all the right people. Her innocence and virginity was put up to the highest bidder, though, of course, no one would ever equate what they did with such a disreputable trade as whoring, but that is what it was.

Finally, bids were made and the prize secured to a man some thirty-odd years older. Unexpectedly, the man was kind, intelligent, and most of all respectful. She was 15 at the time. For two years, he continued her regular education, grooming her to his perfection and satisfaction, even wooing her. She married him at age 17, and at first, she was frightened, thinking of what was to come as a duty, a requirement, but his patience won out. He offered love and she returned it. He helped her grow her hobbies and skill. He furthered her education. He had bought her, but didn’t make her feel like a bought thing. It was a marriage after all.

When she’d reached the age of majority, he took her to his bed and taught her new things. To her surprise, once more, what he had to teach her was not scary and only hurt once. Because of the man’s, her husband’s kindess, though she had initially been a commodity and a bartering chip, she began to feel like a person, cherished for who she was not because of what she would gain him. He never withheld food, or put her in a small, dark closet because she did not perform as well as she ought. For his kindness and care, she loved him. Few women in her position could say the same, when it came to marriages of convenience.

They were not a flashy pair, choosing to be out of the social scene. The two continued on, with friendship and care for one another, until one day the young woman found she was pregnant. Instead of pushing her away and finding other lovers, her husband embraced her more often. He loved her and their future child more with every passing day. Her loved her changing body. Not in all her life had the girl felt so cherished. Never had she wanted to give something to someone so much. Never had she loved something so fiercely as she did the little ball of life in her belly.

“One day, a couple went for a walk. She was near to her time and walking eased the aches that came from carrying a child. A step misplaced resulted in a turned ankle. As they paused to assess how badly the twist had been, the pair were assaulted .
A magic user, under government sanction, had been searching for a fugitive and his woman. Without thought the mage attacked the woman and her husband simply because they were there.

The couple flew through the air like rag-dolls. Her husband hit his head on a rock. He died immediately. She was thrown into a tree, belly first. While begging for help from the mage and the guards who accompanied it, the woman – gently raised, birthed her child in the woods while impassive faces watched. The mage didn’t bother to stay. This man and woman were not the ones it sought.

The baby was dead, but so perfectly formed. It was a boy. He had perfect little fingers and toes. He had a perfect little nose and lips. He was perfect in everything, but for his lack of breath. He was…”

There was a hitch in her voice, but she managed to contain it.

“…perfect. It was the violent throw, you see. The throw had torn up her insides, pulling things apart; separating things that must stay put, and as the doctor reported later, causing a seizure resulting in her son’s death.

Later, a government official, a friend of the husband, came to inform the woman that no inquiry would occur, because the fugitive who had caused the accident was still at large. But there had been no fugitive. She knew because she saw the battlemage as it triumphantly rode into the clearing, saw as it sneered in disgust that she and her husband were not who it was searching for, and ignored the woman’s pleas and cries for help.

Not that help would have mattered, because her husband and her baby were dead. She should have died, but her husband’s money ensured she received above and beyond the usual medical care. She was all that remained - that, her grief, and her husband’s money.

Money is useful. It can buy you things, even people. Most importantly it can buy you information; information such as the name of the one responsible.

Funny thing, though, battlemages are untouchable in Marn. They wield magic. They have government immunity from the crimes they commit. They are autonomous, answerable only to the highest power in Marn. They are even protected by the very building in which they live and work, by some abomination that changes the way the building looks.”

When she spoke, it was flat but for a few nuances here and there. She had kept her gaze in her lap, hands clasped, body still. The only indication of the anger and pain she felt was the fall of tears that fell onto her hands and the one hitch of breath.

When she finished, she gave Vanyusha a wan, watery smile.

“So, you see, I need an abomination to destroy an abomination.“

Here, before him, sat a mother who would never give up her child for the sake of her own life. Here was a mother who was willing to give up her life for her dead child.

“I did not make the offer lightly, but I suppose your… whatever it is would never actually help me accomplish what I need to do. It would probably choose to do the opposite just to be contrary; which would be a pity because I would make a very good ally.”

Ivone’s brows drew together as if she were angry at the thought or maybe she was just angry. Grief was funny like that - first despondent, suddenly angry.

“I have funding. I have access to people. And, I wouldn’t need to be attached by a blobby bit. IF my goals were accomplished. And, so long as I move within the circles I do and live, my funding would continue to grow through investments. I have an excellent business partner.”

Ivone sighed. “I… I will take your advice and leave.” With that, she moved to stand.

Vanyusha's eyes drifted to the ground as she told her story, their glow masking his regret. Although he didn't approve of her plans, he understood her desperation-- losing family in such a horrible way, especially one's own child, could push someone over the edge. He was not lucid in Shim when he immolated that child in front of its mother, but even through his parasite's corruption he could feel the woman's agony. It was an agony he knew well: it hung around his neck like a noose, tightening whenever his memories returned.

Ivone had the same noose around her neck, but she didn't bring it on herself... unlike him.

When Ivone stood and announced her departure, he kept his eyes on the ground. Part of him wanted to stay quiet and let her walk out, then wander off into the forest and wait for the parasite to take control again. But he knew he couldn't. He knew what he had to say, even though the thought of putting it into words made him sick. In his lucid moments he never admitted it to another soul, but something in him told him now was the time.

"I killed my own children."

His eyes remained on the floor. "When I was human, I helped a conman lead a cult. I manipulated my three sons into killing him in a power grab, then I hid my involvement and had them executed for his assassination.

"I understand the pain of losing family, and I deserve my fate for what I did to them. Whenever I regain my mind, their faces as they died is one of the first things I remember. I would undo it all in an instant if I could, but I have to live with what I did. I can only hope that they're at peace somewhere, and that they've forgotten about their poor exuse of a father.

"I'm the last person who should be giving advice about family, but... we both have a cloud over our heads, but I'm the only one who deserves it. If you want revenge, that's your choice. Just don't let it consume you to where you'd seek help from something like me. You -- "

His eyes suddenly went dark, and his head fell to the side, motionless. After a few moments the artifact within him glowed violet, and his ooze began to reshape itself into his human form. Once Vanyusha's body returned to its earlier state, his eyes reappeared and the artifact's light faded. Stepping forward, he towered over Ivone and stared down at her, his presence far more threatening than before.

"That fool has prattled on long enough," he said flatly, his voice far colder. "You wanted to discuss an arrangement. Here I am."

At Vanyusha’s admission she froze, staring at him. The look on her face was a jumble of disgust and disbelief. She listened to his confession, but she offered no succor. He didn’t deserve any.

“You’re right. You deserve it.” He shouldn’t be giving advice about family. How could he understand? He felt regret did he?

As she watched, Vanyusha slumped as if defeated by his own admissions. Ivone turned away from him and moved to the armoire. The sounds of his body forming into something more substantial were lost as she opened the armoire and pulled out a dress. He wasn’t moving and she couldn’t stay in the same room with him. She would do as she said. She would leave.

When she turned back toward the bed, she found Vanyusha towering over her. Ivone gasped, eyes wide. Adrenaline pumped through her body. Before her was something different than Vanyusha had ever been. Even when he’d arrived, he’d been clinical and detached. This… this was something more. Something old. Something… terrifying.

An arrangement?

“You heard, did you?” Ivone managed to break her stare and look away with a wry smile. Though every instinct in her body screamed ‘run!’, Ivone carefully, closed the doors to the armoire and stepped to the right of the creature to lay the dress on the bed. Her hands trembled. Fear made her feel cold. Balling her hands into fists, she moved toward the fire, unsure if the creature would let her get that far away from it. Thankfully, it did. Ivone turned, putting her back to the fire and her face in shadows.

"My, there are so many people and things in that body. So, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking now?" Certainly, whatever stood before her was the one Vanyusha had made his contract with. It had to be. She had to quell her fear or... what? She'd lost? Hadn't she already lost as soon as that thing surfaced? Nothing stopped it from just taking her for a midnight snack. If that is what it did to people. Only Vanyusha knew and he was gone.

“I offered myself and my resources in exchange for accomplishing some very specific tasks.”

"You seek to take the life of the one who ruined yours, perhaps even to dismantle the corrupt government he serves."

Rather than taking control when he had the chance, he had waited and allowed the woman to tell her story, sensing an opportunity. But he was not impressed. Where Vanyusha saw a sympathetic mother, he saw a deluded fool. Her husband and child were rotting in a grave, nothing more than nutrients for the earth, yet she would throw away her life to avenge them. Unlike Vanyusha he remembered what it meant to be human, but that did not mean he would endorse such idiocy. Her crusade would accomplish nothing.

Whether she still had use remained to be seen.

"Caliavannas," he said. "When my puppet's strings become tangled, I surface to straighten them out. I have influenced Vanyusha's mind to follow a set of commands, but every so often my control slips. Unfortunate, yet unavoidable."

His eyes drifted around the room. Romantic scenery. A date of some sort. Vanyusha should have never been allowed to participate in such an activity. He was surprised the Remathia boy allowed it, even moreso that the artifact did not register it as a potential risk. He would have to shorten his puppet's strings in the future.

He looked her over carefully. "An attractive young woman. I suspect you were responsible for Vanyusha's lapse into humanity. He once had a lovely wife of his own -- this romantic evening must have kindled memories best left undisturbed."

Moving to Vanyusha's chair, he took a seat. "Controlling this body wastes precious energy, so we will discuss the terms of our bargain. What I ask of you will involve the abduction, torture and murder of innocents by the hundreds. If you are unwilling to do this, we have nothing to discuss."

"You seek to take the life of the one who ruined yours, perhaps even to dismantle the corrupt government he serves."

"Yes."

Ivone stored the creature's name away. She also stored away the knowledge that it was neither omnipotent or omniscient, what little good it would do her. It seemed to appraise her and found her wanting. It's compliment was dismissive.

It moved toward her and Ivone tensed. She was ready to fight or bolt, whichever seemed most likely. When it stated its terms, she tilted her head. She was curious despite the curling, cold horror that was settling in her gut. Who qualified as innocent? The only innocents she could think of were children and she could never, ever harm children.

"Why?" Ivone could not fathom the value in doing such things.

A fair enough question, though he would rather not squander the artifact's magic by explaining its intricacies to a simple woman. But the fact she didn't immediately rebuke him was promising, so he would be patient and address her concerns.

"Vanyusha mentioned the artifact embedded in his torso. Not only does it maintain this body, it also serves as my phylactery. My existence depends upon its energy, and I draw upon its magic to maintain my consciousness. I remain dormant for decades at a time as not to waste its precious magic.

"But despite its usefulness, the artifact's nature is malevolent -- it feeds on the physical and emotional anguish of others. I've designed Vanyusha to desire to torture as many people as possible to give it power. I've also enslaved the consciousnesses of other beings and trapped them in this body, forever in a state of suffering, to prevent it from running out of magic.

"I survived my own death at Vanyusha's hands, but only as a collection of base instincts within my own artifact. My mind has returned to me thanks to its power, but I must restore my body. I can only do that with my artifact's power. Does that answer your question?"

Ivone listened. She understood it, mostly.

"So, the suffering gives you power." She paused for a moment, thinking,

"Then, why do they have to be innocent? Anyone can suffer and it would seem making someone who is not innocent suffer would offer more return on the investment. And, why would you want to be human again? You seem much stronger than any human I have ever met as you are. What is the benefit in that? Humans are frail and short-lived."

Ivone considered Caliavannas before another thought dawned as well.

"Were you the conman? The cult leader?"

Caliavannas never imagined he would be discussing the details of his magic with anyone, let alone a human woman. His hesitaton was turning to mild enjoyment -- it was pleasing to put his own accomplishments into words, to have an audience to appreciate his success. But he would not waste the artifact's magic on ego-stroking, so he needed to remain focused.

"Why innocents? Consider who would be more terrified looking at this body: a small child or a battle-hardened soldier. This world is a painful place, but our tolerance for its horrors grows the more we see of it. Anyone can suffer, but I've designed Vanyusha to target the most potent sources."

When she brought up his humanity, he chuckled -- a wispy, cold laugh, a sound that seemed like it shouldn't exist. "I never mentioned becoming human again. All I desire is to be resurrected in a body not unlike my original. Of course, there will be a few important differences.

And I see you were paying close attention to Vanyusha's story. I do not prefer the term 'conman,' but yes I am that same man. Thanks to my constant contact with the artifact I unknowingly left an imprint of my mind on it, allowing me to survive my own death."

When he confirmed he hurt children, Ivone's expression turned thoughtful again. Her brows furrowed and her bottom lip pouted out, though on Ivone it did not distort her features. Some found the expression endearing.

"What kind of differences?" A thought was coming to mind about some rumors she'd heard.

"What if... instead of harming innocents I could get you access to a body like that? Would you help me, then?"

"Does the idea of harming innocents gnaw at your conscience? You seem unable to move past that point."

Caliavannas examined his claws thoughtfully. "When I speak of innocents, I do not use the term in a moral sense. Morality is a social construct, nothing more. We live in a cruel and chaotic world, a world where a man can kill a woman's husband and child on a whim without consequences. There are those who accept this reality and see the world as it truly is, and those who simply haven't opened their eyes. The former have no obligation to coddle the latter.

"There is no suffering more potent than the loss of innocence, and I have the means to use it to ensure my resurrection. Why bother searching for an alternative method? These reservations of yours hinder your own mission, as well. If there are lines you won't cross to avenge your family, you aren't truly putting them first, are you?"

He sighed, folding his arms on his lap. "But I am not an unreasonable man. If you can find me a suitable vessel through other means I have no objection, provided you actually have an idea of how to do so."

Pausing, he chuckled again. "As for the differences, I'll leave that to your imagination. Why spoil a good surprise?"