Born a Monster

What? No. NO! But I sensed no stirring of the Madness toward me. Would I, when I was asleep?

[You currently have zero points of Taint.]

“So.” Not-Sobek said, puffing on a hookah, “Now do you see why you had to go to the Mines?”

“The asylum.” I said.

“The asylum.” she agreed. “Have you determined on a way in, yet?”

I blinked at her. “Tell me that was a joke.” I said.

She waved a hand dismissively. “We of Sobek know you to be resourceful. You will find entry.”

“I’m an inmate.”

.....

“Excellent. You have your plan of entry. Do you have enough salt?”

“Why do I need salt?” I asked. “I can’t do a ward with that ... THING there.”

She rolled her eyes. “You have an anti-taint ward. Successive wards, each one closer, and you will have the contamination contained.

“I do not have enough salt, nor enough silver powder, nor enough white chalk dust.”

“That is... unfortunate. You have not built up enough good will with Sobek to merit an intervention.”

“Look, I can’t stop that thing by sheer physical power.”

“Good. Then know there is much reason for vengeance upon all who administer that place.”

“And the spills?” I asked. “How do I keep the Taint of Madness in their spills from infecting me?”

She took a puff on her hose. “That sounds like a mortal problem to me, to be solved by mortals.”

“Is any part of this NOT a mortal problem?” I asked.

“You would be wise,” she said, “to NEVER take that tone with me again. We the divine are not responsible for that... abomination. Mortals chose, on their own, to cultivate and harness the forbidden powers, to put them toward ill-chosen ends.”

She held up a single finger to stop me from speaking. “And,” she said, “You have defeated Taint before. You have unlocked a power that the mortal realm doesn’t see often. You have crippled an angel of a rival faith, and you have thrown two nations into chaos. YOU are of near-heroic rating, and have more accomplishments than the next most qualified candidate.”

“Next time, a little more warning what I would be facing...”

“And you’d have tried to avoid it entirely.” she said. “Tell me now if I am wrong.”

I choked on two different replies.

“That’s what I thought.” she exhaled a stream of pink and purple smoke, different colors than she had inhaled. “If you wish to be more unpredictable, then do so. But tell me honestly, what are your plans now?”

“I need to escape.” I said. “I need two, perhaps three days to refill my mana. Then I can return and start dealing with the problem of the Madness.”

She chuckled. “What will the cabal do during those two days?”

“Run, if they have anything resembling common sense.”

“And what if they were, for example, insane?” she asked.

“Well, crap.” I said. She let me smack my lips. I eventually responded, “I need to diagnose the lot of them. Depending on their mental disorders, I may need to make a more violent exit than I had intended.”

“Now, you are beginning to think as a Champion. Which, since you are nearly a hero, indicates a great deal of mental and emotional retardation.”

“Piss off!” I shouted at her, “Or else find me the four year old who is more accomplished among your ranks.”

“Ah.” she drew a puff from the hookah pipe. “I admit that bit about among our ranks is quite masterful. But... know that the world is large and fearsome, and you are not the most unique and dangerous thing traversing it.”

“How many others?” I asked, “Are any of them near me?”

“Do you beg for a divination?” she tried half-lidding her eyes, but her interest was evident.

“I think it’s just a passing interest.” I said.

“Pity. You’ll let me know when you change your mind?”

“Probably not.” I said. “Everything that comes from beyond the mortal has a cost.”

“Sweetling. Everything, mortal, divine, profane, or magical, all of it has a cost. Were I to recommend a course of action, I’d recommend you decide what costs you are willing to pay to attain the goals your GOD has set for you.”

I opened my mouth.

“Go ahead. Tell me you haven’t beaten longer odds. I need the laugh.”

“Even here, I am a Truthspeaker; I literally cannot lie to you.”

“Good. Stop lying to yourself, then. You have abilities that your System won’t tell you about, and even some few that it can’t even detect.”

“My System IS flawed, then.”

She snorted smoke out of her nose, eventually blocking her nostrils with her left hand. “Do you know what a System actually is? Why it works the way it does? Do not think that any System is ever perfect.”

She poked me with the nub of her hose. “Especially not yours. So, have you anything to report? Anything to ask?”

I scratched the right side of my jaw. “You already seem to know more than I could tell you about the situation in that asylum... Wait. I have a question.”

“By all means, ask.”

“My siblings? They are well?”

“Oh my, no. You don’t want to ask that of Sobek. You are just one escape away from learning that answer.”

“What advice do you choose to give for free?” I asked.

She snorted, and then chuffed out a series of three smoke rings. “Ah, but you have made me laugh. That must be worth something, I suppose. Very well. Don’t be lazy. You are surrounded by the tools you need to escape. Use them. And now, while the Madness still slumbers, now you need to be awake. Think well, plan well, and this may all turn out better than you fear.”

[You are now awake.]

Why did my System tell me that some mornings, and not all of them?

No. No, focus. What did she say? Exactly? What did she not say?

From the common room, I swear I could feel the Madness roll over and scratch its belly.

I placed my hands underneath my head, and sent:

I had all the tools I needed to escape. No. I was surrounded by the tools I needed to escape.

Maybe my fellow inmates had them? That was no good. Most of them were...

Tools of the Madness.

I was surrounded by tools. Living tools, oh yes, but still...

Why was I crying? It was so obvious I needed to incite a riot. I needed the staff to come into the common area, not just the triad of ...

Oh.

Perhaps it was just my own Vanity, mirroring itself in the Dame Doctor.

But...

Her dismissive comments toward her subordinates...

[To unlock library functions costs thirty development points. To purchase, focus on this message.]

No, because of course that would be far too easy.

Okay, I’d come back to that point later. A quick check of biomass revealed less than a day’s reserve. I debated taking a bite of Nurse de Rollo, but the image of his blood being infused with Taint filled my mouth with a bitter taste.

I came up with a series of bad plans, most of which I’d end up hurting myself ... because I was blind...

Oh, now THAT bad plan was just horrid.

Maybe I should just ask for more food? No, that hadn’t worked during the admission session.

After all, madness can be caused by prolonged starvation, why would she want her inmates fed? Wait. Maybe she did, and lacked the budget to keep a proper Cook on staff?

Actually, had I heard such complaints?

Had I NOT heard such complaints?

Had I heard anything SANE from my fellow prisoners? Something other than not to be violent, or my head would be cracked open?

Ugh. I massaged my forehead.

I knew better than to think I was retarded, but to be honest, it wasn’t my strong suit. I did better when I had companions. People I could say dumb things to, and who would say smarter things back to me.

Why DID my friends keep dying or abandoning me? Was I that unpleasant? That dangerous to be around?

Maybe I was; maybe I deserved to be surrounded by the clinically insane.

“I deserve...”

.....

Okay, I didn’t deserve to be here. I probably didn’t deserve to be on the edge of starvation with hardly any health points, either.

Tough. Not the first time life had thrown this manner of hardship at me. Probably not the last, either.

Unless I died here. So, how to stop that from happening?

I opened a System list, to figure out what I did and didn’t know.

...

I didn’t know the names of my fellow inmates. Well, Jax.

But I didn’t KNOW them. What motivated them? What could cause them to riot, other than the Madness being awakened?

I imagined it twitching, like a cat might in its dreams.

Oh how WRONG I was! Every time I have reason to ponder that question, it seems more and more important. It nags at me when I am half-asleep, and runestones with numbers upon them have been known to haunt my dreams. Oh, yes, it matters.