Born a Monster

420 320 – Meet Dame Doctor Thuria

“You seem tense.” Dame Doctor Thuria said, in a friendly, even cheerful voice.

“I seem to be held to this table by leather straps.” I replied.

“The iron manacles could be arranged, but I understand they chafe those of your biology.”

“It is said that in the Khanate, slaves have custom-fit manacles to which the chains can then be connected or disconnected.”

“Do they?” she asked. “Pity, that does sound like something beyond our budget.”

“To whom would you talk...”

She inhaled audibly. “No, let’s not waste time talking about my meager budget. We’re here to talk about you.”

“My name is Rhishisikk,” I said, “and among other things, I am a Truthspeaker. Ask me your questions, I literally cannot lie.”

“Intriguing, but also false. Shall we be about proving it?”

.....

She asked her questions, innocent at first. What was my earliest memory? How did the culling of my brothers and sisters make me feel? Did I still fear birds today?”

“Only the ones half my size or larger.” I replied.

“Why those, in particular?”

“Those are the ones that can actually damage me.” I said.

“It is only natural to want to avoid pain.” she said.

This should have sent up a warning flag. Go ahead, re-read my statement, and then hers.

But she didn’t give me that time. “So you do have nice, thick scales.” she said. “Why not thicker ones?”

I scoffed. “I haven’t been able to edit the evolutions I gain.” I said. “In order to make thicker scales, I need to kill something with thick scales like that.”

“You must have had opportunities to eat dwarf pieces.”

“I know from a piece of a rock troll that I cannot gain geo-biological evolutions.”

Her voice changed to a superior, even mocking tone. “So you do eat pieces of your fallen foes. Desecrate the dead.”

I had expected this. Eating of dead sentients is... well, like it is in most civilized cultures. Any creature that is capable of asking not to be eaten shouldn’t. And death alone does not change that. Or it shouldn’t. Look, I’m not going to get into the ethics and philosophy of the matter.

‘Confronted with a reality that the Mines were a newer, deadlier, environment, I decided to do what I could to adapt to it. No evolution, no nutrition, indigestion for half a day... and I knew, someday, that someone would take offense to me eating a piece of a sentient creature.

“I am a survivor. And if every culture I run into is going to treat me like a monster, why shouldn’t I behave as one?”

“I see. Most rational. So tell me, how do you reconcile that with tearing out your eyes?”

“When I was sold to the Guild...”

“The Guild?” she asked.

“The Guild of Guardsmen, Porters, Drovers, and Linkboys.” I explained. “The Cloverhoof clan of centaurs sold me to them.”

“And how did such noble creatures descend into slavery?”

I blinked. “Centaurs aren’t unicorns, and my understanding is that unicorns themselves aren’t particularly noble so much as...”

She struck me on the wrist with something that felt like a tuning fork, if the tongs were instead paring knives. “We are not discussing unicorns.” she said. “We are discussing you. How did you go from a free animal to being owned by... centaurs?”

“I... I wandered in on a funeral they were holding for my friend and mentor, Eihtfuhr.”

“You just wandered in?”

“It was the ritual.” I said. “To put the soul of an enemy at peace. It affected me, as well.”

“Were they your enemy, at that time?”

“They were.” I said. “I think that...”

“I think that you will leave the diagnosis to me.” she said. “They were your enemies then, true?”

“Yes.”

“And they are your enemies now?”

“By their own choice, yes.”

“Tell me of the times between. Were they your enemies then?”

“N... I would say not, but it seems that’s not entirely the truth, either.”

What HAD happened to me in my youth, if not what I remember?

“Ah, it seems there is a gap in your Truthspeaker oath.” she crooned. “How long have you been lying to yourself?”

“Since... I guess since the day I was born, when I told myself if I just stayed out of the way of my brothers and sisters, if I ate only my share of food, that everything would be okay.”

“And you admit that everything is NOT okay?”

“It seems hard to argue that, given where I am.”

“There are others,” she said, “who would argue that they don’t belong here, especially not chained to a table.”

“As an explorer, where would I belong, if not where other people didn’t want to go?” I asked. “Although, yes, I admit that being restrained seems a violation of hospitality.”

She allowed herself a soft chuckle. “The restraints are for your protection, more than mine.”

“I seem no more likely to hurt myself just by talking to you.”

“Yet you did tear out your own eyes just to make a point?”

“Not just to make a point.” I said. “But yes, I did want to prove I meant no harm to my siblings.”

“By harming yourself?”

“The most direct course of proving my siblings were in no danger was to show that we can all recover from the sorts of injuries the magistrate seemed so concerned about.”

“How ARE your eyes?” she asked, leaning forward to pry open an eyelid. It was painful and bright, and nothing resolved that resembled her, not even where both ears and nose told me she was. “Oh, I see. It looks like a tiny marble. What would happen if I plucked it out?”

“Please don’t.” I asked. “But it would reset, so long as I had biomass to put toward healing it.”

“And if we were to starve you?”

“Again, please don’t. After a few days, my body would start tearing itself apart to supply me with enough biomass to keep me alive.”

“I have been meaning to ask, has Nurse de Rollo been providing you proper meals?”

“The portions are smaller than what I’m used to.” I said, “And part of yesterday’s meal ran away.”

“And how much do you feel you need?”

“Currently, one hundred thirty five nutrition.”

“That is a ridiculous amount of food for a child to consume.”

“Three body mass times five Might, times a level factor of nine.” I said. “The math doesn’t change with age.”

“That is an absurd level factor.” she said.

My intestines grumbled. “Absurd or not, that is what my System consumes, daily, to keep me alive. I had a surplus from my tunnel run, but that is almost...”

“I’m sorry, your what?”

“Tunnel run.” I said. “I was in training to be a Tunnel Warden before this whole age issue came up.”

“At age four?” she asked. “Doesn’t that seem a bit presumptuous to you?”

“I’ve been faced with many such ridiculous situations.” I said. “Gaining another military class actually made sense, when compared to other options.”

“Heh.” she said, “And what are your options now? To break free of your restraints, kill us all, and take over management of the Madness node?”

The Madness... node? Oh, right. Right, she was insane. I felt even more uncomfortable being unable to move.

“I’d be happier being AWAY from that thing, thank you very much.”

“Truly?” she asked, “My reticule shows you to of type ‘Magical Creature’. Among other, contradictory readings.”

I sighed. Real life so rarely fits into the templates that people think it should. Nature is violent and messy, more so after nightfall. “Magic and Taint mix all too well. I’d rather avoid the latter where I can.”

“Taint.” she scoffed. “Did you ever consider that Taint is magic, just like any other? If you act only as a conduit, letting it flow freely through you, using the power immediately, it harms you less.”

“How much less?” I asked. I wasn’t really curious, but if she wanted to talk about it...

[You have received an ORANGE critical for 32 points of Lacerating damage. After armor, 26 points have been received. You have -14/80 health. Due to negative health, you will experience...]

I sent.

She struck me across the nose with the nose with the fork-thing, tearing open my cheek and spraying us both with blood. I feigned being unconscious, as that seemed safe.

She sighed. “We aren’t here to disuss that, either. And now we can’t.”

.....

She drummed her fingers on the edge of my table. “Nurse Shondru.”

“Ma’am?”

“Our patient seems to have injured himself. Please sew him up and return him to his cell.”

“The patient’s scales make that... I’m sorry... It shall be done, doctor.”

She spoke nothing to me, communicating only through the quivering of her hands and the uncertain stitches she left behind.

That part of the meal had responded when I asked if any of them were sentient. Nurse de Rollo had kindly provided the manner of bugs and worms that one might use for fishing. It was, honestly, not even half of what I needed to survive.