(II) Academy

204 (II)Academy

She said nothing. Instead, she released a cold, harsh breath. Shiv wondered if it would have been better to be fighting someone instead. "Alright, let's start with this, . Does your plan to escape your divinity have anything to do with me?" Shiv had to admit that she was doing a remarkable job communicating scorn with only her eyes, so Shiv took things a step further. "Did Udraal promise you a resurrection through me? Is he going to transplant whatever skill that's binding you to the Great One inside me? Is that the long-term plan to fix your godhood problem?”

Sticks and Stones 57 > 58

As if this question struck something hard, the Educator turned away and clenched her teeth. A patch of her face turned to glass. "He told you, the damned bastard," she hissed.

“No, I guessed! Had nothing to do with him telling me!” Shiv nearly snarled. He wasn't actually mad at her, however. Instead, most of his rage was directed at his creator, because the bastard seemed to have one trick when it came to Shiv, and that was using him as some kind of counter-death incubator womb. “He used me to bring Rose Van Erren back into the world. I'm supposed to still have Adam's sister inside me somewhere. He’s going to have me do the same for his mother; he's planning to do the same thing with the Great One, so of course he's going to do the same thing with his lackey.”

The Educator turned away from Shiv, and the people in the room nervously watched as her expression went from vicious to uncertain and then determined once more.

"You know about the degeneration," Maia said. It was less of a question and more of a statement.

"Yeah," Shiv said, "I know about it. I know it's affecting the Starhawk, affecting all the Ascendants. I'm guessing from how you act that it's affecting you as well. Is that why you paint and sketch inside your tome so much? To remind you who you were, to hold on to the history of yourself?"

"Stop using your feeble Psychology on me," she hissed, and in her eyes, he saw something else aside from the usual distaste she had for him. There was a genuine feeling of hurt there. “Do you think I do not know? Do you think I am not sickened by my own state? Every day? That I am not aware that I am a stereotype of myself? A ?”

She didn't like being seen. She didn't like being less. And she definitely didn't like the fact that he was taunting her over it. The cruel bit inside him wanted him to continue digging his finger into that wound, to make her angry, to provoke her into violence so that they could see this thing done one way or another.

But his sensible side took over instead. Even if he infuriated the Educator and somehow managed to kill her for good, there was still Udraal out there, still Veronica. And thus far, despite being pretty shitty company, it was she who allowed them to avoid Harlock's notice; she was better on their side than not. At least for now.

"Fine," Shiv said, offering her a concession. "I'm gonna stop psycho-analyzing you all the time, stop poking at your wounds. But I want something from you as well." She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "Listen, I don't wanna argue, but every time we talk, we get pretty close to ripping each other apart. You don't like me. We're never gonna like each other. It’s the way it is. But right now, so long as we're gonna work together, I say we act like adults and just deal with things. I’m tired of playing the two snarling dogs bullshit when I’m with you. Just… Let’s stop doing that. Waste of time. Pointless.”

As he said that, he looked at the ground. There came a pristine whiteness as he focused the Chef Unwavering, and over the whiteness, there manifested a grid for him to cut into. He sliced down with his Last Morsel and began carving chunks out of the floor. Irons shot a look at Adam, and the Gate Lord grunted in discomfort. "You'll understand in a minute. But maybe not. Most things that relate to Shiv are either ridiculous or absurd. Or and but that’s mainly when he gets a terrible idea for a new weapon, or feeds himself to some monster.”

The Deathless gave Irons a demonstration as he threw a few pieces of severed rock into his frying pan. He carved a snippet free from a mote of fire he conjured thereafter, and soon it was cooking. Shiv caught sight of Merrielmel shooting his pan looks. Brief looks. Shiv didn't think much of the Enchanter, but having him check the Last Morsel at some point might also offer some insight. But that depended on what the man did with his mask.

As the lid of the pan lifted, Shiv held the well-cooked stones out to the Educator as a peace offering. Instead of being badly burned chunks of rock, a pungent smell that evoked feelings of well-smoked brisket filled the air.

"What?" Irons said. Even the man's surprise was deadpan, but the utter disbelief was written clean across his face.

The Educator stared down into the frying pan and snorted. "Truly, this is your idea of diplomacy? Cooking stones?”

"It's the only thing I do well other than hitting people with my fists, stabbing them with a knife, or mangling their insides," Shiv said, shrugging. "I didn't really get a chance to develop any other skills. The System kept getting in the way of that over and over. Now try it. It's not bad."

"He speaks truth," Whisper muttered from beside Shiv. “And the pan is a wonder. Do not be scared, little god. It is not wise when the Challenger is watching. You don’t want to give him your measure, do you now?”

All the orcs were grinning at the Educator as well, trying to use what little peer pressure they had to get her to partake. She hesitated for a moment and reached down. With the end of a pencil, she skewered a cooked piece of rock, and its texture parted much like a piece of meat would. After a final uncertain look, she placed it inside her mouth and chewed. Her first bite was hesitant, expecting to greet stone with enamel. When her teeth sheared right through, a confidence flowed through her, and she hummed in surprise as she consumed the meal.

"You're not much of a red meat person, are you?" Shiv asked. The Educator didn't say, but he could tell. "Actually, I don't think you're much of a food person at all. You probably don't think that much of food. You're the type to get lost in your art and not do anything else for days. You eat when you're hungry, and no other time. You feed yourself to stay alive; you don't stay alive to keep feeding yourself. And as a kind of god, you probably don't eat much at all these days."

Sourness returned to Maia’s mien. "I told you to stop using your Psychology against me."

"I'm not using my Psychology. Not really. This is cooking, pure and simple. Most people who enjoy eating, they got preferences. The way they chew, how fast they chew, how fast the food goes down tells you how much they like something. But you just look uncertain. And uncertainty means that you don't know enough to form an opinion. That's alright, though. It'll come in time."

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Shiv spun the Last Morsel in his hand and dipped a finger down into the center of the pan. As he did, he felt himself press against nothing. His digit simply descended further and further. It was like he was reaching into a bottomless pit. Only after he fed the pan with both material and flame would its bottom manifest any kind of solidity at all.

As the Educator listened to Shiv speak, her skin briefly adopted the texture of stone. She looked down at her hand with a raised eyebrow, and a few seconds later, the boost she gained from the Last Morsel faded. Her rocky exterior collapsed into a spray of dust, and then it further dissolved until there was nothing left.

She scoffed once more, but there was no heat in her voice this time. "Let it be said, Deathless, that of all the people I've faced, and of all the people I know, the System seems to favor you the most. Its hand is heavy upon your shoulder, its expression vulgar, and it wishes for you to war, to struggle incessantly." He met her stare without flinching, but there was a building intensity behind her eyes. "You know this moment is fleeting, don't you? You can hide for now. I can mask you for now. But treachery and bloodshed are inevitable for you. Inescapable."

"It's inescapable for everyone in this room," Shiv replied. "Probably inescapable for the school as well."

Irons narrowed his eyes, and Shiv offered the captain an explanation. "You know what a System-favored is, don't you?"

"Of course," Captain Irons said. "And you? You're favored?"

"Oh yeah." Shiv laughed. "So is Adam. So is everyone who's around me for more than a day or so. Well, if they survive. I'm glad I'm in good company anyway. I'm gonna tell you this right now, Irons. We'll help each other, but maybe you don't want to be that close to me. You might want to keep your distance. Because right now, these few hours of peace, they're getting rarer and rarer in my life. Blood and death practically cling to my ass like fleas, and there's really no way out."

"And you decided to come to the Academy, regardless?" Irons asked. Shiv understood his point of contention, but ultimately, it was probably a bit too late for that.

"Yeah," he replied, "because it doesn't matter no more. Everything’s already over the edge. The Ascendants are going insane, there's a big ugly game being played, and an avalanche is heading for the Yellowstone Republic, regardless of whether I'm here or not. The gods are degenerating, there's an unkillable Tarrasque on the loose, and, apparently, hostile nations are mustering their forces north and south." Shiv sighed. "I'd stay away if I thought it would do you any good, but it probably won't. There's no avoiding a lot of this. You’re a soldier. The System’s gonna do what the System’s gonna do.”

"And you're already in it as well," Adam said, backing Shiv up. "Captain. You’re looking for Melissa, aren’t you? Well, there are good odds that she's already dead. We encountered Daughter several times in the prison. Her vessels are almost always children, young ones. I don't know if there is a specific age limit for the Avatars she can use, if she needs their consent, or whatever the rules are. But I can tell you this: more than a few of the children wailed and screamed as Daughter used them." The Gate Lord grimaced. "I've seen terrible things. Things that show the Republic isn't what I thought it was. It's not just now lying to me; it's always been lying to me!”

Adam glared down at the ground as his Shattered Dawn flickered. Irons stared at the face of his former student, then up at his Unique Skill.

“What did it take for you to get that?” Irons asked.

Adam drew in a long breath before he exhaled. “More than I thought I had. More than I wanted to give. But it’s not done. Unless we get better, we get stronger, and we get ahead of all our foes, it’s not done. If I want to live, I have to war. I have to be more than I was.”

“Such is the price,” Irons grunted.

“Such is the price,” Adam agreed quietly.

"And this is why we pity you," Mortar said. The large orc looked between all of the Republic's so-called citizens among them. "You all lie to yourselves too much. You all torture yourselves for nothing. You humans, you goblins, you children of the earth. You're capable of such wondrous things, but you're also determined to live so pointlessly. It's all about power, but you don't want to admit that. And when someone else shows their greed and gluttony, you're hurt as if there was any other way to be."

Shiv gave a derisive snort. "There are plenty of other ways to be. Irons is right here. He's trying to do the right thing. He had a mark on him because he tried to do the right thing. Cripple is wavering as well. Starhawk—”

The Educator laughed out loud at that, her bitterness singing the air. "Matthew is a fool. That's all he is. He thinks there's a way to deliver justice. He thinks that by somehow spreading divine power among the people, by connecting all of them to the Great One and giving them the gift of our so-called divinity, that we would all be better, that this Republic would truly flourish. Absurd."

"You don't believe that?" Shiv asked.

"I it's untrue," she replied. "I know it's untrue because they would just become like us." She shuffled closer, staring Shiv dead in the eye. "Do you know what being a god means? It means magnification. It means everything you are good at, all your talents, but also all your flaws, are amplified so many times over that you become a parody of yourself. A public given that power will not be noble and democratic; it will be an anarchy. And all anarchies are fated to become tyrannies.”

“You don’t know that,” Adam said. “You make excuses.”

“Oh, but I do,” Maia muttered quietly. “I wish it weren’t so. I wish… I wish…” Her expression softened. “I wish people were who they claimed to be. I wish that the Starhawk could be right. But he isn’t. How many are like you, Deathless? Or you, Young Lord? How many keep throwing themselves into the jaws of hell over and again—for other people, no less? Not many. But I was like this. Most of the Ascendants were as well.”

“Favored?” Shiv asked.

“No. Change-seekers.

“Overmen?” Shiv ventured, remembering something Valor had mentioned to him during their first-ever conversation.

Maia looked surprised. “Yes. How did you know about that philosophy?”

“Valor.”

“Ah. Of course. But yes. The ones who choose. We will do these things because, by nature and nurture, we seek to be more. And we hate the world for what it is. But most people?” She shook her head, her grayish hair bouncing from side to side. “They are animals with intelligence. They will react and eat and then die. That’s all they will do. They wait to have their throats slit. Or they deform and become monsters. Evil is banal, boy. And there is nothing more evil than the common man.”

Shiv considered that before shrugging. “Maybe. But the same guy who could be a bastard can be something more too. Just gotta give them a reason. Feed them right.”

Maia chuckled bitterly, and her gaze became distant. “I said those things once. A long time ago, as well. And now here I am, struggling not to spit spite at a child. To hold on to a paltry peace.”

“Ahem!” a loud voice interrupted them. Merrimel stood just a few steps away, and in his hands glistened a mask. But it wasn’t the mask Shiv remembered. Instead of being a thing of dark metal, it was now glowing with the colors of mithril and stone. “We… needed to make some additional improvements to preserve the mask. But we think the primary enchantment has been stabilized.”

The bot-wearing goblin stepped out from behind the elf and held up a hammer. “Got a few questions for you. A few choices as well. The Mind-Shield’s done and busted. We’re gonna need to swap something in for that. And we’re gonna need to remold the mask’s exterior in a new material. Also, got a notification from our liaison. They’re outside with a few corpses.”

“Corpses?” Shiv asked.

“Yeah.” The goblin sniffled. He looked uncomfortable then. “Something about dead students from some morgue.” In the corner of his right eye, Shiv could see Irons struggle to keep his face from twitching in rage. “So. Besides the enchantment, got a question about what new skin suit you want as well.”