Chapter 139: A Robe and Crown

Name:Slumrat Rising Author:
Chapter 139: A Robe and Crown

Truth teetered on the edge of what should have been an obvious decision and started to laugh. Deep, honest laughter, coming from the gut and bubbling through the pain and anger and joy and lust until it reached the open air as mirth tough enough to go the distance.

“Why go back to Hell? Because fuck ‘em, that's why! Do you... yes, actually, you do. You do know exactly how badly they fucked me up. But you haven’t lived it. You haven’t been there. For which I am so, so thankful.”

Truth leaned in and kissed her again. Slowly, possessively, this time.

“My entire life, before you, could be defined in one phrase- “That’s not okay. That’s fucked up.” And I told myself that I was okay with it. I could accept the fucked-up-ness, because I had to. It was a necessary thing to get through the day. But it wasn’t okay. Even if I was okay with it, it wasn’t okay.”

Truth smiled. It was sincere, but Etenesh could see the pain there too.

“My earliest memories, the first thing I really remember thinking was that what I was seeing was wrong. That it shouldn’t be this way. It was this way, but it shouldn’t be. A mother shouldn’t burn her baby’s hands because he cried and she’s tired and hurting. Dads shouldn’t break their son's ribs when he asks if he can have food today.”

Etenesh shuddered.

“Though there will be a lot more of that when the collapse comes. A lot of starving people and a lot of dads and moms not able to do anything about the hungry bellies. Not that my going to Jeon will prevent that from happening, even if I succeed.”

Truth sat back and pulled Etenesh up with him.

“I’ve known my whole life the slums were wrong. Poison. Everything in them is poison. Not just for me, for all the slumrats living in there. They make cruelty a necessity. You can’t care about people. You can’t. You are too sick and tired and scared to care. You barely care about yourself, and then only to numb the pain. Drugs, booze, sex, scry. Bag of something cheap from the convenience store if your hunger fights through the booze and drugs and cigarettes.”

She caressed his face, crying silently, letting him get the words out.

“The slums are wrong. The slumrats are wrong. All the people who support that whole... arrangement. I don’t even have words for it. The people who live in the nice part of the city in houses built by the people living in the slums, eating food prepared by people who can’t afford a bite of it, driving cars assembled by people they could run down legally. All those people are wrong too.”

He started talking faster. “They are wrong. Starbrite is wrong. All of Starbrite, every little twist and corner of it, all the good things it does for cruel reasons. It’s wrong. The way the whole world, yes even Siphios, leans into it. Supports it. They are all wrong too. I’m not fighting the world, Love, I’m the logical result!”

She smiled through the tears at that.

“Think about it- I’m the product of all the shitty, evil, wrong decisions made by billions of people. Doesn’t make me special. There are billions more, just like me, all over. But it’s the roots of me. I'm someone who’s the product of all the wrong things, who got by saying “That’s not okay. That’s fucked up.” And now I’ve got a sword. Now I’ve got everything I need to be an A-Tier pain in the ass. And I’ve got motivation.”

He was waving his hands now. “I don’t owe the world shit. You are right. I don’t. I did my best for the sibs. I died for the sibs. I don’t owe them. Never did. But you know what? I’m ok with it all. Because looking out for them wasn’t fucked up. Looking out for them was, actually, okay. So now I’m going to go back to Jeon. Back to Harban. And for a brief, glorious time, I’m going to be part of the problem. I’m going to make life hell for as many people as I can so that I can rescue the sibs, get some revenge, and at the end of it all?”

He breathed, looking Etenesh dead in the eye. “At the end of it all, I’m doing it because, against all logic, I refuse to think I can’t make a difference. That nothing I do matters a damn. I’m going to pick up my blade and cut away those things that hurt me, and if it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, fuck it. Fuck it. I’m just another slumrat, and you know what slumrats do? They climb. They go right up your trouser leg and climb until they find somewhere fatal to bite. And if they can’t manage fatal, so painful you want to die.”

“And cultivation?” Etenesh asked. “Are you trying to save that too?”

Truth felt his rant derail for a moment, then grinned. “It was the first thing I felt like I could really control. It would be nice if I could save cultivation. Of course, that would mean reversing centuries of damage. So. Unlikely.”

“Haha. No. No, that’s not right. You aren’t saving cultivating. You are saving the idea of cultivation. That by their sole effort, a mage can transcend the limits of reality and become something greater. I can see it in you. The path of the mortal feels like running away. Only cultivation offers a path to a long life. I see it. I see it in you. Part of you is convinced that you will die young, but part of you is swearing and wiping the blood off your lip and daring the world to stand in your way.”

Truth watched the black wings unfolding behind her, the gold tracery on them flashing in the moonlight. Her feet turned into talons, but her hands stayed soft and warm as they cupped his face. “You won't accept a mortal life. You will kill your way to Godhood.”

Truth looked at the cultists. “If you aren’t Level Four or over, run for your life. Get help, someone who knows how to deal with this.” They froze, their masked faces looking confused. “RUN!” He barked. Of the seven, five ran down the mountain.

“Oh fucking pussies! Weak little cowards. I should have known I couldn’t count on you. Things go even slightly bad, and you fold like a paper fan in a toilet.” Etenesh sneered. Truth had kept his eyes on her hands, though, and he could see her fingers twitching, tiny spell forms starting to drift from her fingertips.

“You are feeling it, a bit of it. I am so sorry, beloved. I feel the warmth of you. It’s a poor trade. I never wanted you to understand me. Not really.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No. You deserved some better part of me.”

“Not that! It’s not fair that you feel like this. This is you all the time? How does anyone live around you? How? HOW? All I can think of is that everyone is out to get me. That those cowards ran off to get someone who could take me in a fight, and they will because they want something from me. Or just want to hurt me.”

“You learn to deal. Calculate the risks. Learn to protect yourself. Remember that I did accept when you reached out.”

“But they will hurt me! You!” She stopped. Forcing herself away from that cliff. “No, you won’t. Not intentionally. You wouldn’t have before, and now, with my fire burning in you, it’s even more impossible.”

“Yes. I knew since our first kiss that I could never cut you. Maybe even before that. I will be as dangerous to you as you need me to be.”

She smiled a fragile, little lost thing. “I will endure being in danger. As much as you need me to be. A harder thing, now.”

“Yes. Hard.” He reached his arms out to her. “But now I will worry less.”

“You will?”

“Yes. You haven’t stopped casting this whole time.” Truth smiled a lost little smile of his own. “You are finding the blade in your heart. That blade you can never quite put down. It takes a while to learn how to use it, but really, there’s nothing quite like it.”

“For cutting my pain off?”

“For getting to the heart of things.” He grinned a little more sincerely. “I made a stupid joke. Maybe I am ready for kids.”

“You really think we can bring children into this world? Now?”

“No. But don’t you love the dream?”

Etenesh nodded.

“So what are you willing to cut to make it happen?”

Etenesh looked up as a flying carpet raced into the clearing, more cultists coming in, looking worried. “I would kill every demon and wicked soul and make for you an offering of their lives. I would weave from their flesh a robe and from their bones forge a crown. I would dress you in them and anoint you with my own heart’s blood.”

She smiled brilliantly, the madness in her eyes clear. “I would kill the world for you. I would make you a seat upon the chariot of God.”