Are You Even Human

The frigid darkness around me does its best to crush me on all sides, but I sink all the same, keeping my body sleek and dense so I fall through the water almost like air. Part of me wishes I could descend even faster, escaping from my shame at the greatest possible speed, but the other part of me knows I'm already being unacceptably childish. Wishing for more is far too much.

I'm deep enough that I can no longer see the light from The Divinity of Wonder's body, and I'm more than deep enough that there's nothing left from the surface, assuming it's even daytime. I have to say, I wasn't expecting to be so loud down here. It's not rock concert loud or anything, but… there's always something. Whalesong is thankfully pretty common; I'd have worried the aliens would have hunted most whales to extinction given their omnicidal proclivities, but I guess not.

It's kind of eerie, though, out here alone in the darkness. I've heard whalesong described as beautiful before, but I have to say I don't get it. It sounds more like an agonized moan than music, the last gasps of a dying world echoing through the cold dark, heard only by beings who can barely even comprehend the idea that they might be saying something with all that noise.

There are other sounds, but they're much harder to identify. Persistent rumblings, like the growl of some great beast, ring up from below me. It almost makes me afraid to keep going deeper, as silly as it is to worry that something down here might threaten me.

If anything really is that dangerous, I'll feel it. And then, I'll become it.

Despite the complete darkness, it doesn't come as a surprise to me when the bottom of my torpedo-like form touches the ocean floor, countless extraneous senses confirming what my domain detects about the collection of minuscule life beneath me. Those that can move under their own power scatter briefly at my impact, then turn and swim back, eager to investigate whether I'm some sort of fallen carcass. I'm not really in the mood to be bothered, though, so the moment they enter my domain I shrivel up my extraneous mass and vanish it all away.

Left alone on the ocean floor, with no deeper to go, I can run no further from my thoughts.

I can't believe how stupid I just was. How could I have just… said all that shit? They've done nothing but go out of their way to be kind to me and I screamed at them for all sorts of shit that wasn't even their fault! What the hell is my problem!? This kind of self-control is supposed to be what I'm good at, and I fucked it up.

I just got so mad at that Blossom bitch. She wouldn't stop riling me up, over and over, absolutely constant. It's like she knew exactly what to say to make me mad, giving me those stupid names and insisting over and over that there's something wrong with me. By the time we got into that conversation about how war is totally fine actually I was already on the brink of lashing out. I need to figure out how to deal with her. Assuming I even go back.

…No. No, quit being a mopy idiot, Julietta. Of course you're going back. You need them. They don't need you, but you absolutely need them, or else Maria is dead. Pull yourself together, moron.

My body shifts and twists, legs moving from feet to fins to crab-like appendages, tapping incessantly against the thick sand below. I twist and flow through the water, going everywhere and nowhere, not needing to worry about getting lost because the pull of my Queen always rests at the back of my mind. I don't know how to feel about that anymore. I was initially scared of it. Then I got used to it. It became background noise, something that led me towards hope when I least expected it. And now, it's like a hanging guillotine, the knowledge that at some point I will need to return and it will be horribly uncomfortable pressing harder on my shoulders than the deep sea pressure.

So. Damage control. They're obviously going to be even more convinced that I'm unstable now, and probably even more insistent that they need to help 'fix' me, too. Gotta prepare myself for that, be ready and not let it get to me again. I can't just… just explode at people who are trying to help me! Gah, why was this such a problem!? What the hell has gotten into me!?

I grow to twice my usual size, shift myself a massive set of manta-ray-like flippers, anchor my feet into the ground, and slam as much water as I can into a random direction. It takes all my muscular power to shift a mass of dense water that much, but I pull it off and set a localized storm of swirling water to ravage across the bottom of the ocean floor, tapering out a few dozen feet away from me. It doesn't accomplish anything at all, but it feels good and lets off a bit of my overflowing stress. I do it again and again, growling out into the ocean waves to let my anger join the whalesong. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I'm just so stupid! How could I mess up something this important!?

Shoving my impotent rage into the water naturally doesn't accomplish anything, but I suppose I feel slightly better by the end of it. I'm not bothering to maintain even a hint of external humanity at this point; I'm still using a mostly human brain, but my body has fully adapted to the water, flowing between forms as easily as it swims through the deep. There's nothing down here but me and the occasional blind beast.

Twisting like a serpent, I rush towards a group of translucent fish and peel apart into a dozen tentacles, each reaching towards an individual prey. Those that miss join back together as I move, while those that connect latch on, crush, and kill before I digest them into myself. I'm just killing for the sake of it, but the movement is empowering, the change is relaxing. I don't know how long I stay down there, but I suppose it must have been too long, as eventually I feel another domain. I twist towards it.

"Peace, Thief of Torn Wings," a familiar scent spreads into the water around me. "This unit's identification: Pathless Wanderings Gladden Futures."

Oh. Him. I half-expected Blossom to be the one to follow me here, but this isn't as bad. He's… kind.

"Greetings. Embarrassment. Regret," I send back. "I hope I did not worry you overmuch, Pathless Wanderings Gladden Futures."

"Relief. We have all been worried, but it is good to know the worst of our fears have no basis in truth," Wanderings answers. "Have you found the depths to be to your liking, sister?"

"They are what they are," I answer noncommittally, and Wanderings hesitates.

"…Agreement," they say. "Clarifying query: why did you rush down here so quickly? What task had need of your descent?"

"There was no task, Pathless Wanderings Gladden Futures," I admit, scrunching myself back together and returning to my humanoid form in shame.

"This unit does not understand," he answers. Of course. Of course he doesn't.

"Supposition: it will be difficult to explain," I say, a deep sadness flowing unexpectedly through me. I don't understand it, at first, but I peel apart the emotion and quickly figure it out.

I somehow honestly thought I would fit in better with aliens than with humans. I did. I really did. It was kind of stupid of me, wasn't it? Of course that wouldn't be the case. We have different cultures, different anatomies, different fundamental brain structures. I understand them worse than I do humans, because why wouldn't I? And they, in turn, understand me less as well. Despite their eagerness to embrace me, they still consider me a freak. And they always will. Everyone always will. I never should have gotten my hopes up.

"Explaining is for concepts too rich for mere intent," Wanderings says. "There is a better way to help us understand, but it seems it hurts you to use it. We all appreciate that you did, though. We thank you for helping us know you, Thief of Torn Wings."

It hurts so much to hear that. All lies hurt to hear, when they come from people you want to like. Though… no, wait. Aliens can't lie, right? Why am I…

"Why?" I ask. "Why would you appreciate it?"

"Confusion. You did what we had been begging you to do for some time. Of course we are glad. Of course we are thankful. We understand you better now, and we wish to understand."

"But I said so many hurtful things," I say. "I blamed you for so much that wasn't your fault. I asked you to die."

"Redoubled confusion. I do not recall you saying such things, Thief of Torn Wings. Do you wish for my death?"

"No," I say.

"That is good. I did not think otherwise."

"…Confusion," I manage.

"Reciprocal confusion. You do not wish my death. Therefore, you never told me so. Is this not understood?" Wanderings asks.

"But… I said… I thought so many terrible things, and…"

"Apologies. Thief of Torn Wings, I believe I am having difficulty understanding you. The others interpret your eccentricities more easily. I will endeavor to improve my deficiency, but as I cannot do so instantaneously, may I recommend reuniting with the colony?"

Hah. He wants me to go back. Of course he does. They all want me back. That should be so obvious I don't even need to think about it. I know how these aliens work. I figured it out ages ago! Why is this suddenly so hard for me?

"I… accept," I manage. "Agreement. Agreement. Reluctant agreement. Let us return."

"Let us return," Wanderings agrees, copying my phrasing as if tasting it a second time.

"Apologies," I say.

"This is unnecessary," Wanderings assures me.

"I understand," I lie.

These people just want to help me. I know that. I know that's true, it literally can't not be true without completely reframing everything I understand about their entire species. So why does that feel so much more likely? Am I under the effect of some kind of power? They care. They aren't going to throw me away just because I blow my top at them. Why can I not just believe that?

Oh my god. Wait. No. Fuck no. I'm acting irrationally due to a disproportionately extreme emotional reaction. I know what that is. I know what makes a human brain do that. God damnit god damnit god damnit!

I should be better than this. Why can I not just control myself?

Pathless Wanderings Gladden Futures is a remarkably fast swimmer, which I suppose might be the reason he was sent after me. Although… I guess there's also the question of how he actually found me alone in the depths of the ocean. Maybe that's part of his power. It occurs to me that I can simply ask, but I'm not in the mood for more talking. I make as efficient a swimming body as I can manage and keep pace with him as we ascend back to our Queen's domain.

When we arrive, Blossom and Chaos are waiting for us. Blossom squirms where she floats, her tendrils shaking and shifting as she idly spins in place. Chaos watches us with careful stillness.

"Welcome back," he greets us. "We are gladdened to see you well."

"It is what I do!" Pathless Wanderings Gladden Futures jokes happily.

"Reluctant obligation: I apologize to you, Thief of Torn Wings," Blossom says. "I have been convinced that my actions against you were unnecessary and unproductive."

"I appreciate your apology, A Blossom of Wilted Chances," I answer. "Upon reflection, I believe I am beginning to understand that some of the ways you have claimed I am injured may not be entirely inaccurate."

"Amendment: I rescind my apology in light of this new information as my actions have clearly had the intended effect and my fellow council members have simply failed to comprehend my genius. This occurrence is common and should not have been unexpected."

"Irritation. My Princess, please do not forget the kindness you have learned," The Divinity of Wonder groans.

"…Additional amendment: this unit remains regretful for the emotional suffering experienced by Thief of Torn Wings. Of which you will now have less of because of me."

"Reciprocation: A Blossom of Wilted Chances' insistence on providing constant evidence for the success and intelligence of her actions suggests either a lack of internalized belief in her own value, a pathological inability to understand decorum, or both," I answer. "Assumption: target was rightfully derided for her lack of wisdom and personality before receiving a blessing, and no longer receives the recrimination she deserves because the rest of her council is too kind."

"Shock!?" Wonder gasps.

"Amusement!?" Chaos laughs.

Blossom bares her blades and shakes her tendrils at me.

"Nostalgia," she hisses with unexpected delight. "Ready for our duel after all?"

"Polite request: no! Do not do that!" Wanderings interjects.

"Nostalgia?" I ask. "Why nostalgia?"

"This unit was born to a Queen of Failure," Blossom answers. "I have thanked many a chosen for such supposedly blessed recriminations. The only kindness in that place was derision. The only safety, silence. If you had been listening, you would have felt my nostalgia from the moment you arrived. You have always been so very familiar."

The water reeks of disapproval, the chosen of Possibility bristling at even the mention of Failure. I find myself caught off-guard yet again, despite resolving to stay on the attack this time around.

"How does one even worship Failure?" I ask. "Why were you mocked? If you were bad at things, wouldn't that be good?"

"Negative. Consider: if it is your goal to fail, how is failure performed? If you fail, you have succeeded. If you succeed, you have not failed. To seek one's own failure is therefore not worship. One venerates Failure by seeking one's own success via the woe of all else."

Ah. I grimace. What humans do as a natural byproduct of our lack of empathy and care for each other, the god of Failure actively engineers.

"Comprehension," I acknowledge.

"Yes," Blossom says. "I think you truly do comprehend. And since you do not understand me at all, your understanding is from your own experiences. Your woe is your own."

"…A Blossom of Wilted Chances was quite cruel when she arrived here," The Divinity of Wonder says. "She had no interest in our kindness."

"I had no understanding of it," Blossom corrects. "I knew your feelings and could still only doubt them. What madness it was. I was broken. I was injured. In body and mind. But it was such a powerful and useful madness. Failure and Possibility have no truce. Not even my pilgrimage was permitted. Had I not been cruel enough, I never could have escaped. Why would I give up the only reason I still breathed?"

"I recognize the ways your story is intended to give me insight into my own experiences," I grumble. "I… may have not been acting in my own best interest. But it upsets me to be told that there is something wrong with me because of a decision I have made. If I do not wish to share my thoughts, I should not be pressed to do so."

"Agreement. It is true that we are not respecting your wishes," Blossom says. "But if your beloved wished to cut off her own limbs, rip out her heart, and bleed to death in front of you, would you not press her to stop?"

"Your comparison is flawed," I argue.

"How would you know?" Blossom asks. "You have never even tried that which you claim to know better about."

"Peace, both of you," the Queen interjects. "Thief of Torn Wings has just returned to us. You press her too hard, A Blossom of Wilted Chances."

"It is my duty to," Blossom says. "Possibility guided her to us. Our god knew you could help her the way you helped me. And it knew I could help her the way I helped myself. You do not wish to tarry, do you, Thief of Quiet Waters? You have much you still need to achieve before you can live in peace under Possibility's aegis. I know you hate your weakness. Let me kill it."

"I do not need your help, A Blossom of Wilted Chances," I scowl.

"Then prove it. Oh immortal chosen, heal thyself. And next time you wish to tell me off, do it properly. Your observations will never sting if you continue speaking them like a malformed newborn."

This… no. No, no, no. I see what she's doing here. She got me mad enough to actually share my thoughts the first time, so she thinks it'll work again. She's… she's doing my thing! She's trying to manipulate me into being a healthier person… but it's by her standards of what I should be. It's not like I… well, I mean, I guess I am apparently a little traumatized and not acting totally rationally on my own, but… is this really how she's choosing to try and help!?

Hmm. Maybe 'choosing' isn't the right word. It's not like she's capable of putting her thoughts through a filter before they become words. She's probably right that I'd understand her better if I opened myself more fully to that, which I might be able to do without reciprocating, but… ugh. Am I just being stubborn for its own sake at this point? What's the right thing to do here? I need more time to think about this.

"Has any progress been made on my requests?" I ask.

"Affirmative," the Queen answers. "I have communed with Possibility and received its interest on the matter. I believe your powers will assist me greatly in divining a solution, given your ability to provide physical examples. Although… your trust would be a required element of the process."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"It would be very helpful if you assumed the form of your beloved and allowed me to practice remaking you," The Divinity of Wonder explains. "As well as giving examples of your native species' biology and how it interacts with our own."

Huh. That makes an unfortunate amount of sense. And… I suppose there isn't much risk to it? Sure, she could completely fuck up my brain, but I can just change it back anytime I want. Even Maria, whose Queen had no idea what she was doing, didn't manage to mess up hard enough that Maria actually lost her powers. So I should be completely fine. Plus, I can't say I'm not curious how the aliens do this stuff.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"I consent to this task," I tell her.

"Surprise! You would trust me with your very being, but not your thoughts?" she asks.

"My body is far less important than my mind," I say, "and I do not believe you are capable of destroying it in a meaningful way. Should you kill me, I will simply repair myself from death. I have lost my core before, and rebuilt it anew."

"Shock!" Chaos Erupts in Indifferent Blessings gasps. "The core!? How is such a thing possible?"

"Mocking statement: through Possibility, of course," Blossom answers. "Serious statement: my curiosity is piqued. Such a thing goes against all conventional wisdom."

"The core contains the individual," The Divinity of Wonder says. "Though it is changed when one is given a new form, the change must be handled with the utmost care. If improperly handled, damage to the core can cause the loss of one's blessing and death."

"My core was not merely damaged," I say. "I lost it in its entirety, but my domain remained and allowed me to rebuild it."

"But how did you command your domain without a core?" Blossom asks.

"I do not know," I admit.

"Delight. Fascination. How like our god it is to present us with ever newer things," she says, her tendrils shaking.

"I will endeavor to be careful with you regardless," The Divinity of Wonder says. "Though I am not quite yet ready for you."

"If you cannot be killed, I know of a delightful way to pass the time," Blossom writhes with anticipation. "Come, Thief of Good Sense! I still wish to fight you."

Y'know what? Sure. After my temper tantrum earlier I could use a bit more directed exercise.

"I accept. Anywhere but your core is an acceptable target?" I ask.

"Affirmative," Blossom says. "It is, after all, a friendly spar."

I wonder how she does that. She makes everything sound so sarcastic in a language that barely even has a concept of sarcasm.

"I am unable to understand why you possess so much confidence that the path to healing our council member's injuries involves injuring her further," Wanderings sighs.

"There is merit in the idea," I answer before Blossom can. "When a person breaks, they heal anew in an attempt to be more resilient to trauma than before. With proper application, this can be used to break an old scar and replace it with a more effective one."

The two of us start to swim towards the edges of our Queen's domain, to stay out of the way and not let any other powers interfere.

"You speak like one who has broken others before," Blossom comments.

"Others," I confirm, "and myself. Self-discipline is often a matter of grinding old habits down into dust, by force if necessary."

"Delight. Amusement. I am ever so happy Possibility sent you to me, Thief of Boredom."

"Cease referring to me with names I have not chosen," I demand.

"It is a habit. You will have to grind it down by force," Blossom laughs, taking position about twenty feet away from me and spreading out her domain to nearly the entire distance. I keep my domain closer to my body, just enough of it extended to feel out what she's doing with hers. "Shall we begin? Chaos Erupts in Indifferent Blessings, you are surely impartial. Will you oversee?"

"Regret. Someone must and I accept the task," Chaos sighs.

"Delight! Declare the beginning of hostilities at your leisure."

"Very well. Combatants, begin."

I remain in my usual form for now, not wanting to give too much away too early. I am, I'll admit, definitely not used to fighting underwater in any real capacity, so there's no need to rush this. I have access to several forms capable of incredible bursts of speed, and I can shift to them at any time.

Though while I approach slowly, Blossom doesn't approach at all. She rests languidly in place, happy to let me make the first move. I start to circle her domain, stabbing thin spikes of my own through to try and prompt a reaction, but she does nothing. She doesn't even fight the intrusion. If I pressed all the way in, I might be able to seize control of her body outright. Although… maybe she's baiting me to try exactly that, and intends to counter the moment I stretch my domain that far. Hmm… unlikely, I think. Based on our prior interactions, her power doesn't seem to need much penetration to work anyway. It's worth a shot.

Floating right at the edge of her range, I shape my domain into a long, thin rod and jab it directly at her body, piercing through the space between us in a flash. Somewhat predictably, she teleports away before I can touch her, and when I move my domain to follow she simply continues to relocate herself, never attacking. Her domain itself doesn't even move, she just changes her own position within it.

"Are we fighting or playing?" Blossom asks. "Do you truly wish for me to become yours this badly?"

Annoying little… well, this obviously isn't working, so into the den of the beast I go, I suppose. I bring my domain back and let my body flow into that of a swordfish, bursting forward to try and catch her off-guard. She obviously avoids my lunge, but as I reach the center of her domain I grow a web of tendrils out in every direction, moving to catch her with a dozen different arms.

"Ah! That's a start," she taunts, flitting around between my grasping limbs. Each time she teleports, she ends up in a different pose, sometimes languid, sometimes aggressive, and sometimes upside-down with her tendrils flopping overtop her 'head' like an upturned skirt. "Keep this up and perhaps a fight will actually begin!"

Okay, that's enough of that. She can teleport anywhere inside her domain, instantly, with no delays? Fine. I burst into a furious network of flesh, expanding my domain to match her own and flooding it with my own body. Twisting tentacle vines wrap around everything they can reach, Blossom teleporting again and again to avoid their grasp. But each time she does, there's less and less space for her to end up, until I finally trap her. I wrap myself around her every limb, her every body part, twisting and smothering until she is nothing but the center of a churning ball of me.

"Caught you," I hiss.

"Exultation," Blossom purrs. "You have indeed."

"Do I now win, or must I tear you apart beforehand?"

"Allow me to show you."

"What?" I ask, and then

I

Explode?

What? What!? I don't know what happened, but I have nothing else to call it but an explosion, for the whole of my being is now little more than chunky red mist scattered within the water. What happened, what happened, what happened!? The entirety of my body was obliterated instantly and simultaneously. I pull it back together, taking shredded cells and bursting blood drowning in seawater and shoving it back into a coherent shape, returning my mind to functionality. It doesn't help me understand a thing. I rush out of her domain and take in the shock, fear, and horror radiating from everyone other than Blossom, who remains mostly just smug.

"Cease! Cease! The winner is A Blossom of Wilted Chances!" Chaos declares.

"Negation!" Blossom interjects. "My opponent is unharmed. See? I have won nothing."

"Agreement," I hiss.

"Disapproval," Chaos warns.

"Apathy!" Blossom happily brushes him off.

"I do not understand what just happened," I admit. Instant movement, instant attacks… there aren't a whole lot of options here. "Does your power stop time?"

"What!?" Blossom laughs. "Time? All of time? I would need a domain the size of the universe to do such a thing. Perhaps there could be a power which selectively stops the time of selective targets within one's domain, but you know that is not what I do because you have seen the effects of my power from outside my domain as well as in, and there is no difference."

"Then explain your ability," I scowl.

"All you ever had to do was ask, sister," Blossom says. "I am A Blossom of Wilted Chances. My blessing grants me the ability to create the results of any action or actions that would have been in my power to perform, even if I initially chose not to do them. Effects without causes. Missed opportunities, all made true as I will it."

"So when you cut me apart…" I prompt.

She raises her tendrils and snaps her bladed limbs against each other, causing a loud crack that twirls and churns the water around her. Then she waits a beat, and the same sound is mirrored a hundred times all over her domain, rumbling like a deafening explosion.

"I could have been there, attacking you. I could have been there, or there, or there… and so I am there. I can have my entire body be already enacting any choice I could have made—my own position is, itself, a result of my actions and choices, after all—or I can enact changes as if my body were in a different spot without moving at all. Even if you hurt me, I can choose a possibility in which you never did and make it into reality instead."

That's… absurd.

"How is anyone supposed to be able to defeat you?" I ask.

"'Supposed to?' I am training to be a Queen, sister. No one is 'supposed' to be able to defeat me. Ever. But if I were pressed to choose a weakness for my ability, it is that the less time my domain has existed in an area, the fewer possibilities are available to me within it. I have to have been able to do whatever it is I am attempting to do, so I cannot, for example, relocate myself to the edge of my range and then immediately do it again in the same direction. I would have to wait until enough time had passed that I could have swam there manually before I could make myself appear there."

"But as long as you remain in one place, your options are virtually limitless," I summarize. "A perfect ability for a Queen."

"Pride. Agreement: it is just as you say. Your acknowledgment of my worthiness speaks highly of your insight. Now that you know what it is you oppose, do you wish to concede?"

"Negation. A question like that could only have crossed the mind of a fool."

"Then tarry no longer, Thief of My Time."

Well, if she's going to insist, who am I to deny her? I erupt in her direction as a draconic hydra of serpents. They immediately get destroyed, pulped into fine chunks, but I reform them almost as quickly and continue my approach. She can destroy faster than I can heal, but I only truly need to heal as a method to transport my own domain, a vessel of twisting blood growing bone and shattered bone growing skin and tattered skin spraying blood, all moving ever-forward. I am a slurry of severed tendrils, a pit of blind worms thrashing towards their chosen meal, and though every cut through me taxes my reserves, it isn't by enough. Being cut simply leaves me with too much leftover mass to reuse, no matter how many pieces into which I am shredded.

Blossom is powerful, but she has a weakness. Not the weakness she told me about; I don't really have a way to force her to move and give up her available possibilities. Instead, her weakness is the fact that she must not move, the fact that she has to give up all her strength if she does so. There are several ways that could be exploited, though most, admittedly, aren't available to me. In my case, however, there is one big advantage. Her power is stronger the wider she spreads her domain, due to its range restriction and low penetration requirement. But that means she lacks any real defense against opposing powers. Powers like my own.

My ever-regenerating mass of splattered offal gets close enough, and I stab outwards with my domain. She dodges, but she's been dodging a lot and I've been paying attention. She likes to taunt me, to circle around me, to never truly use the full extent of her capabilities unless she absolutely must. So as my first jab misses, I'm already preparing my second, predicting her path. She is limited, if nothing else, by her own speed of thought. She can't move faster than she can perceive. With tricks and distractions, I can catch her.

There, there, there, there, there! She runs and I chase, always on the backfoot because why should I care if I'm cut to ribbons? Without a functioning brain, I feel no pain. It's only a matter of time until I guess correctly and trick her into putting herself in the path of my power, and sure enough, as our dance of gore reaches its crescendo, she does.

I devour her tendrils and her blades, twisting them away inside me, leaving her reeling in shock for a split second before she teleports again. I feel the new mass I took from her vanish inside my reserves, and she reappears unharmed, having chosen a new reality where she was never caught at all.

I have time to form myself just enough of a brain to understand what she thinks of my minor victory.

"Shock. Fear. Excitement. Joy."

She knows that's a point to me, or however things are measured in this duel of ours. She knows I could have gotten her core there, but she's been playing with me this whole time so it's not a true showing of my superiority. I've just proven she has to take me seriously. And so, the dance begins anew.

With her making optimal dodges instead of taunting steps, she moves too far and relocates too quickly for my prior strategy to work. I flee back out to the edge of her domain, spreading myself in a thin shell around her circumference, encircling her and trapping her within herself. Free for a moment from the constant destruction of Blossom's domain, I gain a moment to think.

"Appreciation. This has been quite exhilarating."

…And Blossom gains a moment to talk, apparently.

"What is this you're surrounding me with? Is it… native bone? And skin, of course, but the bones are so interesting. How do they move?"

Hmm. Well, no reason not to answer, I guess.

"They don't," I respond. "Organs capable of forcibly contracting create movement for most native species, pulling on the intersection of a joint to move the body."

"I am delighted and intrigued. So what now, Thief of My Attention? You have contained me. Do you think that is enough to count as your victory?"

"No. This is only the beginning."

I layer more bone alongside the inside of my form, then coat the bone with crystal. Each and every form of defense I have access to, I optimize and compare. This will be the true deciding factor in our fight. If Blossom really is limited to things she could have hypothetically done, what happens if I build a body she can't cut?

Slowly but surely I settle on my designs, confident in their ability to withstand Blossom's hydraulic stabbing blades. When I finish surrounding her domain in it, I begin the test, and grow towards her. My body is now a hollow geode, expanding inward like a fast-growing colony of coral, building a jagged maze of solid mass towards the centerpoint: Blossom herself. As my limbs grow in—not like the limbs of an animal, this time, but more like the limbs of a tree—Blossom obligingly tests them, a cutting force slamming against my armor with lethal intent. Her attack chips, so I improve. It cracks, so I improve. And when she can do little more than shave a mote of dust from my crystal shell, I grow it faster.

The attacks come relentlessly. One, two, five, ten, twenty all in the blink of an eye. They're no longer individual cuts, but a whirling gale of force trying to sand down my body with nothing more than sheer quantity of impacts. And though it works, it doesn't work as quickly as I can grow. It takes all her focus to crush a single part of me, and I can grow from countless directions. I can reach her. I can lock her down again, and for good this time. So I do.

She flees as long as she can, but eventually I corner her in the center of her own domain. Even if she grows it further, she can't simply teleport out of my grasp because she has no way to swim out of my grasp. Not anymore. When my branches entangle her, when I have completely arrested her movement for good, I form an effigy of my body and face in front of her, giving it eyes to see her and olfactory organs to taunt her. It only seems right.

"Caught you," I say. "Truly, this time."

"Query," Blossom says, her scent soft when so thoroughly smothered by my own. "You are captivating. Did you know this?"

"What?" I ask. That is not exactly where I expected this to go.

"Elaboration: the way you move, shift, and grow. It is enrapturing. And quite distracting, really. I knew it was a blunder to allow you to surround me, but I just couldn't bring myself to interrupt you."

"Are you… making excuses for why you lost?" I ask.

"Amusement. Sadness. Yes, I am. I believe there are several ways I could have defeated you, though it would require tactics I'm not used to. Beating you in a raw domain battle is not to my taste. It seems I will need to upgrade my body once more so that I may not be caught with a tactic like this again. Corollary: that is not the only reason I was saying such. You did not answer my question."

"Your question?"

"Do you know that you are captivating, Thief of My Victory?" she asks. "Are you even aware of your own beauty?"

I say nothing, but she and I both understand that means no. Nothing about what I am has ever been beautiful, barring a few stolen forms. Even the body Maria ended up so attracted to was always just Lia's. I begin to unravel myself, no longer needing to hold onto Blossom now that I've won our bout.

"Disappointment," she pouts, because somehow she manages to taunt me even about my own victory.

"A Blossom of Wilted Chances, are you alright?" Wanderings asks, swimming hesitantly closer to us as Chaos calls an end to the bout. "You were cut off from the network while you were trapped."

"I am not so afraid of my own thoughts as to shy away from silence," Blossom huffs. "If anything, it reminds me of my journey here. It is a fond memory, even if I never thought it would be at the time."

"Well, if there is ever a need for silence, we certainly know which council member to ask," Chaos says pointedly in my direction. "An impressive showing, Thief of Torn Wings. Your victories in war were clearly no mere fortune."

"Never fortune," The Divinity of Wonder rumbles. "Providence. Possibility has seen greatness in you, and empowered you to match it."

"I appreciate the compliments," I lie.

"Confusion," Blossom hums.

"Why?" I ask.

"I am confident you appreciated none of them, yet you have said otherwise," she answers. "It is most vexing."

Ugh. Okay, I need to not lie around these people. Blossom is way too sharp, figuratively and very, very literally.

"I am content with your remaining vexation," I respond.

"Well, I am not. Speaking of being cut off from the network, will you finally share your feelings with us, now that you have cleared your head?" Blossom asks.

Ugh. This again? Already?

"No, I will not. There is no need."

"There is no lack of need," Blossom says.

"Incorrect. My thoughts are and should remain private by default," I insist.

"Why?" Blossom asks. "Because they will offend us? I think you have already seen there is no chance we will revoke our love for such trivialities. Do you think Chaos Erupts in Indifferent Blessings is ignorant of the ways I consider him inferior? Do you think you can truly deride us in any way worse than what I have already done first? And yet I am still here."

"Your insistence on this greatly irritates me," I say.

"Your stubbornness greatly irritates me," Blossom counters. "Privacy? Whom does such a thing serve? To keep secrets is to hold an advantage. To remain in a position of power. That is all you seek, because you cannot believe you will not need it, even here. That is not strength, that is weakness, and I do not see you as the sort of person content to let any within her go unchallenged. It took me an uncountable age to learn to trust, but by your own admission you do not have that kind of time!"

"Then why should I waste it on your whims!?" I challenge. "Why can you not simply let the matter rest? Do you truly see my silence as that unsightly? Will your so-called 'unconditional' support be forever tempered by demands for me to conform?"

"Idiot! Fool! Are you as blind as you are mute and deaf?" she snaps. "You know nothing about that which you reject! You are ignorant enough to confuse fecal discharge for food, limping through conversations you barely understand because you struggle to hear anything we don't spell out in words and wrap up in a specifically directed package scent! It would be one thing if you truly didn't like the way we communicate, but the best you can manage is to dislike a flawed idea of our communication that exists only inside your deeply foolish head! What holds you back? Why would a chosen as delightfully clever as you rather tear out your ability to speak altogether than simply speak your mind?"

"Because none of you would like the contents of my mind!" I snap back.

"Well what problem is that of yours!?" Blossom rages. "Why would ANY of us value our comfort over the irreplaceable thoughts of our very own family!?"

"What?" I ask, struggling for a moment to find an answer. "Because… that's just how people are. That's how societies are. You are either a person who manages yourself or you are a person that everyone else must manage. That includes emotional management—everyone has their own burdens. It's wrong to place your own on top of them. It's wrong to give someone more reasons to be upset."

"Then whyever are you here?" Blossom asks. "You have done little but place your burdens on us."

"I don't have a choice," I answer. "Not for that."

"You have a choice for this," Blossom says. "So if your reasons are truly for our sake, then kindly make the choice we're asking you to make."

I… but… no, that's…

"I'm not sure I even know how," I admit. "The way I'm communicating now is my best understanding of how you speak. I took everything I know from the brains and habits of slain chosen."

"Then we will help you, Thief of Her Own Joy. As we have promised to do from the start. Please, let us finally, truly understand each other."

"I just… I don't think that's a good idea," I say.

"If you believe it is wrong for others to understand you," Blossom says, "then it seems you must believe that you, yourself, are wrong. And I will not stand for such a belief. Not about a member of my own council."

"Agreement," Chaos chimes in.

"Agreement," Wanderings affirms.

"Agreement," the Queen finalizes.

I twitch and shift, changing between forms and faces with no real destination. I really do have to admit it, don't I? I'm traumatized. My abusive childhood and experiences in war probably actually gave me PTSD. How fucking embarassing.

"Fine," I concede. "I promise nothing, but I will at least try."

"And you will succeed," Blossom says. "I do not tolerate Failure. Not anymore."

Sure. Whatever. We'll see how it goes. Worst-case scenario, she's already failed to kill me in any way that actually sticks, so what could go wrong?