“Not sure why I am here.” Stone grouses.

  “You're here cause you brought the enigma here.” The guild master grouses back.

  The receptionist decided to stay at his post. I was seated across from the Lamia. She pulled out a knife. My nervousness rises. She places a piece of paper with a bit of runic writing on it.

  “Hand…I said hand, girl. I need a bit of blood for this spell works.” She chides me.

  I gingerly place my right hand into hers. She pricks my finger then holds it over the paper, the cut downward. No drop comes. She raises my hand and squints at it.

  “You're white as a ghost and don't bleed.”

  “She violet, you all just can't see the shade.”

  The Lamia squints at the Dwarf. She then squeezes around the cut. A jelly white substance extrudes out. Further squeezing pushes more out. I wince as she cuts it. It plops onto the paper before it absorbs into it. The runes disappear. The Lamia places the knife down.

  “Thats the weirdest looking blood I've ever seen.” The Lamia murmurs.

  “Like a slime.” Chimes in Stone.

  Before I can ask what's going on, letters appear on the paper. The Lamia picks it up.

  “[Adventurer], ‘She who Mourns’. Chimera. Real name: Sara Maxwell Magdeline. Deceased. Cause of death: Execution for high crimes against the Queendom of Atlas 4-12-1704. Aliases: Jam, Scratches.”

  Dead…crimes…in the year of 1704. The Lamia looks at me. She speaks.

  “So how does a ghost end up north of Atlas with an [Identify] that labels you as a level one Elf [Princess]?”

  “I don't know.” I murmur. She gives me a look. “I don't know, I grew up in the castle. I think Ce–’”

  A hand clamps on my mouth before I finish the word. The lamia was reaching across the table.

  “Don't say her name, runaway. There is no love for her here but she can hear it all the same.”

  My eyes widen, I start again. “I think she made me into an Elf. I don't remember anything before that. I just know my other half is somewhere to the south of Kargnia.”

  “Other half?” Stone asks.

  “I don't know beyond that…” More murmurs.

  The Lamia moves to her desk. It's higher than most desks. Seems she doesn't sit at it. She pulls a drawer, grabs something and tosses it to me. “Put it on.”

  The ring goes over my finger, too large. “Got a smaller size?”

  The Lamia quirks her head. She comes over to me, her eyes gaining white eights glowing over them.

  “The magic won't set.” Her eyes sweep over me. “You have implants that are channeling mana. Here.” She points to the center of my chest. Her anger increases as she looks at my head. She turns my head to the left and right. “There are nails in your fucking head. Never before have I seen such implants. Stone, are there any inactives in her?” She looks at my status screen, “Don't resist him.”

  I just give a panic look as two green triangles connected at the tip rotate in the Dwarf eyes.

  “There is a real long one going from her forehead to her spinal cord. Her left eye got a lens on it that transmittin’.”

  I tremble, “Get them out.” I murmur.

  Stone places a hand on me, “I don't suggest it, there in your—

  “GET THEM OUT!”

  They rear back. I grab the knife. Before it reaches my forehead the Lamia catches my wrist. She looks at me.

  “Stone, remove ‘em. I don't think ghost girl goin’ to bleed out on ya.”

  “I ain't worried about the bleed out, she goin’ to be brain damaged.”

  “She survived the insertin’ and it's clear she's goin’ to do it herself if you don't.”

  The hand trembles, I was already trying to pry her fingers off my wrist. A hundred strength not worth shit against the Lamia. The Dwarf sees all this and sighs. “Fine, lay down girl.”

  When she felt my struggle end, the Lamia released my wrist. She then clears the table and I get on it. The status stone was placed on her desk. The Dwarf raises a hand to my forehead and winces.

  “My [Life Magic] ain't workin’.”

  “Thought you wanted this done girl, why you resistin’?”

  Before I can say I'm not, Stone speaks up. “It ain't a resistin’. It just not workin’. Like trying to heal someone who is already dead.”

  “That would follow with the report. She ain't [Identify] like an undead though. Guess we will know after the implants are out. Open her up.”

  He unsheathes and hands his knife to the Lamia, she gives him an annoyed look.

  “You got the better stats, if we be carvin’ without magic, it's better if it's you.”

  The woman sighs. She starts at my chest. She stops.

  “Don't resist this compel, ready child?” I nod, “Stay still, don't scream. Don't recognize the pain.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I let it sink into me. Properly dazed, the Lamia cuts into my chest. She reaches my sternum, sees something, digs it out. It plops onto the table. It feels awkward. The moment she pulls the knife out the wound closes up. My thirst grows.

  “By the system…” Stone murmurs.

  The Lamia turns my head and cuts behind my ear. I hear a sickening squelch sound and plop. Another metallic pling hits the table. The thirst grows again. She repeats on the other side of my head. Another squelch, a plop, a metallic pling. The lamia looks to the Dwarf, “Where the inactive one?” He points at my forehead. She removed the cloth off my head, the makeshift eye patch was blocking my forehead. She cuts again. I see a bit of skull get tossed aside. Then she grasped something. The Dwarf grabs her wrist.

  “It's angled, pull upwards.” He says.

  She does, my eyes look upwards as she slowly draws a thick long nail out of my head. The squelch sound is heard again, my eyes flit and flash, a plop after it comes clear. It hits the table too. She reaches for my eye. I negate the compel and catch her wrist.

  “Not that one.”

  Startled, she looks at me as if I am crazy.

  “It's linked to her eye. I can see what she is doing. I had it covered so she can't see what I am doing.”

  “Who?” Stone asks.

  “You already told me not to say.”

  Both are shaken by that.

  “You're insane to want to spy on her but then that's probably why you're a permanent member.” The Lamia states. She looks at the Dwarf. Stone looks over me with green eyes again. When he nods she shoos me off the table.

  I get up and go back to my seat. I wrap the cloth over the spying eye again. The Lamia and Dwarf each pick up a nail. The Lamia narrows her eyes at the longer one. I look at her, the question on my face.

  “It's a compel, it makes you reset it everyday, cycle mana for your other implants, believe you're an Elf, obey and love her.” The Lamia has a great deal of disgust on her face at the love part. “Only sense through your own body and forget the compel ever happened. Real fuckin’ piece of work. What's that one, Stone?”

  “[Telepathy] skill, directed to only one person.” They both look at me.

  “I only heard her voice. Others stopped using it on me saying there was a delay or it was inefficient.”

  He grimaces, “Screenin’ your [Telepathy], that's a new one.”

  The Lamia is examining the plate from my chest, Stone reaches for the other nail. “Not sure what it is, but it was what was pingin’ you as an Elf [Princess].” She channels mana into it, a steady percussive sound emits, "And makes a heart beat sound.” She looks at the Dwarf.

  “I don't understand it, best I can tell it absorbs a specific electrical pattern. Considerin’ it was stuck in her head, best I reckin’ it was meant to stop a reaction of sorts.”

  The Lamia grows annoyed at his words. She takes the nail and examines it herself. She shakes her head after a bit. She looks at me, “You can cycle mana through the ring. It's a [False Soul], set yourself as a Chimera. Stone, I want you to take her south.”

  “Wot?”

  “But I'm a criminal in Atlas.”

  The Lamia looks annoyed as she goes to her desk, “No, you're a dead criminal. Which means they aren't actively looking for you. Which is better than here, which is actively looking for you.”

  She begins writing something down.

  “But the guards…”

  "Have likely already informed the capital that you're here. Better to have you in the city and passed off to someone else then have to catch you at the gate. It's not like you're the first to run away.”

  I start to shudder. The Lamia finishes writing and folds the parchment. She then thrust the parchment at the Dwarf.

  “Fine, better get contribution for this.”

  The Lamia rolls her eyes. She looks to the displayed status screen. Then points to [Cover].

  “Cast that.”

  I wince but nothing happens.

  “Her [Mental Magic] greyed out.” Stone chimes in.

  The Lamia huffs out. “Phrancis, get in here.” She yells.

  The receptionist hurrys in. She orders him, “Go get a new robe that will conceal her, don't give a shit on what color—” She squints at me. “No, make sure it's white. She’s a bleeding [Head Priestess] after all…and a matching eyepatch.” He scurries out.

  She turns to the Dwarf, “Stone get enough supplies for the both of ya to make it to Atlas.” She pulls down a book and opens it, “Intong, here at the border. Take her there. It can be their problem after.”

  He mutters curses but leaves as well.

  I am alone in the room with her. She looks at my [Status Screen] again.

  “You girl, are going to need to change.”

  -----

  I follow closely next to the Lamia, Omontina. Stone is in front of us. My thirst is steadily growing while I maintain my green hair and yellow skin. My ears are now human ones. It feels gross. But apparently if I hold it long enough it will be me. Going by the skills we read. My hair is also closely cropped. Which I hate. That was more because it was full of resin and pine needles before.

  I look to Omontina, “Why?”

  She looks down at me, “You're an [Adventurer]. All I need to know. My job is to get you to fulfill requests and to help you so you can get back to fulfilling requests. That you were executed in another country is no scales off my back.”

  I frown at that. She stopped for a moment. “I'm concerned you have no soul skills listed, Mourns. The head spike referred to a soul core and not using it. I didn't wish to bring it up with Stone there. Your [Status Screen] does not make much sense for the stats displayed. It lists you as lvl one with an additional fifty two levels. Such notations are for higher tiers but your sheet clearly says tier one as well.”

  I shudder a bit at that. She continues slithering. Her cover spell continues to hide us. We have left the city. Southern Cea'inta. Quintarl?ne for Cea town…even though it's a city…mother is a really bad namer. Not my mother. Not my mother.

  “Mourns?”

  I look at the guild master.

  “Sorry…still processing all this. I only learned about my [Status Screen] today. My system voice was just my mother telling me some of my skill changes. That spike may have made me love her but I still felt that emotion for her. Was it even necessary? Or was it always a lie? I feel unmoored by it all. I died in 1704 but I have memories of growing up with her, thirteen soul days because she told me that was how many I had. Was it all a lie? Who was I beforehand, is there anyone who knows?”

  “I see. I don't know anything about who you were before. But as a person with two sets of surnames, that tells me you were part of two families. The second adopting you but still paying homage to the first. Perhaps seek them out and find out more about who you were. Both of the names are actually rather notorious in the Queendom.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, the Maxwells are a merchant family of mind mages. They made their fortune off training uncompellable servants to serve the nobility. The training itself is rather hellish. You have both the title and the mental resist of one who went through such.”

  “And the Magdeline family.”

  “There isn't one, just an individual [Countess]. Youngest to reach tier three as a human in the Queendom. They call her the bloody priestess. Though with the name order I suppose she would be your current mother.”

  I stop at that. Family. I want to know more. The Lamia waves me forward.

  “Come, I don't have an everlastin’ font of mana.”

  I hurried up to her.

  -----

  The cover spell ended, I was standing next to Stone. We watch as the guild master slithers back to the city. I look at the adventurer tier four and wince. We start walking.

  “Sorry about all this.”

  “Think nothin’ of it. I always end up doin’ this shit for her. She thinks it keeps me out of brothels.”

  I stumble at that, I look back at the Dwarf, “Not to pry but why would she be in the business of preventing that?”

  “She is the jealous sort. Wants me all to herself.” He says as if it is the most obvious thing.

  “Not sure sending you away is the best way to keep you.”

  He laughs at that, “Ah but I miss her the longer I am parted. She will need to take at least a week off when I return.”

  “How's all that work?”

  He jumps away from the fairy, sword at the ready. Why do I feel like it should have been an axe? Nevermind.

  “You’re back.”

  “Never left, idiot. So ‘bout the mating of Dwarf and Lamia.”

  “What fae thing is this? It [Identify] the same as you, Mourns.”

  “Neither of us know other than she has access to my memories and nothing else.”

  He tilts his head at that, he strokes his chin. “With the [Identify] and the memory, is she a piece of your soul then?”

  I shrug.

  “So?”

  “Well seein’ as you are curious—”

  “I'm not.” I run ahead, but I can't out run my ears.