Chapter 27

There are dozens, if not hundreds, of different roles in the field of magic study and technology advancement. Among the most well-known and renowned fields of work are the Malloricks. Malloricks are essentially myst engineers and inventors. These men and women not only study and design enchantments but also are the foremost specialists in the advancement of mystech in all forms. Malloricks have a reputation for being what many would call insane.

Another well-known field of magical study that carries with it a degree of fame is that of the Mystgentist. These scientists study the uses of magic in all forms. Mystgenist s dig deep into the laws and reactions of pure magical power and how different elements interact with each other in various ways.

I’m embarrassed to say that I failed to realize the drastic change to my body other than the amputations until I had hobbled my way into the bathroom. It was six in the morning, and I had been up all night reading. I hopped my way into the bathroom linked to my bedroom for some simple business only a living creature could do. I hobbled into the tight space, ready to drop onto the toilet, only turning on the light to make sure I didn’t accidentally trip over the shower curtain. The bulb in the room flashed into life with a brush of my fingers, and I almost passed by the mirror without a second glance, but I noticed something strange.

I locked eyes with my reflection before my sight tracked up to the reflection of my brow. I stared at the change. I was dumbstruck for several long moments as I tried to figure out what in the nine hells was going on with my face. My horns, before that point, had been small. The little, pointed nubs just under my hairline had always been a painful reminder of my tainted blood. What I saw just above my eyes were not simple little nubs. Each horn had gone through an infernal growth spurt that made my jaw drop in shock.

Before, my horns were an inch in diameter and an inch and a half tall with a slight curve. The standard look from any devil in a piece of art you would find from the late Age of Hungry Iron until midway through the Age of Steel’s Grasp. The kind of art that depicted devils seducing maidens and devouring children.

The twin nightmares that burst from my brow were far worse. The diameter of each horn had at least doubled in width. These new horns curved back, parallel with the slope of my skull, before rising up in sharp tips near the rear of my dome. Standard demon horns would have been shocking enough, but this was a degree above and beyond. These horrifying protrusions from my skull were tiered. Each tier of bone was slightly smaller than the one below it, and each of them curved up into a barb at the front.

I had seen Darklings with horns similar to this before in visual media. Many Darkling villains had almost comically large sets of horns as if they were to display just how evil the Darklings were. While my horns weren’t so large as to drag my head down, these horns were horrible. I looked like I was going to eat someone's child and steal their money to spend on something evil. I stared at my reflection for a solid few moments before screaming. “What the Skalttra!!”

I should tell you that at this point in my life, the fact that I cursed using the name of the Eternal, known as The Mother of Darkness, was an order of magnitude above simple cursing for me. I had been tought to never cursing using the name of a higher power unless I truly meant it. The only exception to this was Kassidan.  Using the name of a God was one thing that might have gotten me smote. Using the name of a Titan was even more dangerous. But cursing with the name of one of the fundamental creatures of reality might very well have been courting with oblivion if I drew even the slightest bit of rancor from the Eternal of Darkness with my word choice.

Stumbling, I fell backward through the doorway to hit the floor while I gripped one of the new growths and pulled on it. Desperately, I yanked on that horn like they both were parasites draining my very soul. I refused to accept those things as part of who I was. I did not want to be a villain in the eyes of everyone I passed on the street. If the world hated me even more, I didn’t know what I would do. I couldn’t be treated even worse because of these things.

I screamed like a madman as I wrenched and yanked on the growth. The next thing I knew, a pair of hands were pinning my sole arm to the ground, restraining me. When I started kicking, my legs were pinned by much larger hands. Brutally, I screamed like someone being tortured. I thrashed and writhed as if I had just had a molten metal rod pressed against my skin.

The next thing I knew, there was a pair of hands on my cheeks, and an alien calming energy was being driven into my consciousness like a railroad spike. I struggled for a few more seconds even as I heard a familiar woman’s voice whispering to me, “Hush. Hush. It’s alright. Everything is okay. You’re okay.”

As my struggles died, I opened my eyes to find Master Navor pressing her brow against my horns, just above my own brow. When I looked up, I found Zynna holding my hand. When I looked down, I found Demierra pinning my legs.

“Horns.” was all I managed to get out before I broke down into body-wracking sobs, just like the night before.

“I know. I know.” Navor murmured to me as she raised her face from mine. “We don’t know why it happened. But I didn’t want to scare you anymore. I was hoping to talk with you about it when you were in a better place.”

“Better?!” I snapped. “I lost an arm and a foot, and now my horns have octupled in size! What in the nine hells happened to me!?” I demanded.

I heard Ferris’s voice from the doorway to my room. “I saw it happen.” He sounded scared. “They just…grew. Popped out of your head so fast the skin split when you went into that rage. I don’t know what happened.”

“What?” I asked, but even I could hear the begging in my voice.

“Like I said, we don’t know.” Navor answered. “Something’s not right with your body.”

“What?!” I asked again, panic seeping into my tone.

“Iver. Life Myst didn’t work on you. The magic almost killed you because of some unheard-of reaction.”

“Like cancer?!” I truly started to panic.

“No, no. You don’t have cancer. Have you ever had an adverse reaction to Life Myst before?” Navor asked.

“What? No. What does that have to do with my horns? Oh, Gods! Are my horns cancer?!”

“Iver! Shut up, you twit and listen.” Navor snapped at me. “Ferris told me that your horns changed in the middle of the fight and that something strange happened with your skin. When Demierra got you here, I tried to heal you. But your body treated the Life Myst like it was poison. But when we used and controlled dose of Death Myst to counter the reaction and kill any possible mutations, your wounds sealed up as they should’ve from the Life Myst. Something strange is going on with your body. I want you to see a specialist when you’re fit enough to leave the house.”

I was dumbstruck. What the Master had just told me made no sense. Life Myst was poisonous? Death Myst healed me? And my horns? What was going on?

“How?” was all I managed to say.

When Zynna and Demierra were sure that I wasn’t going to go ballistic again, they let me go. I pushed myself to a sitting position with my remaining hand before moving to rub my head. When my fingers touched one of my horns, I reflexively recoiled. Carefully, I bypassed my new horns to grip a fistful of hair.

“What in Pandemonium happened to me?” I muttered, trying to cling to my calm. “What is happening to me?”

“Kid, listen to what I’m saying.” Navor began sternly. “You need to find a specialist. Probably a few specialists. This must’ve been caused by magic. So you’re going to want to find a Mystgenist. One that specializes in Darklings or Umbral Myst types. Preferably both.”

“Where in the nine hells am I supposed to find someone like that? Especially in the state I’m in?”

Navor stood up. “I’ll do some digging. You need to focus on getting back to fighting shape.”

“Actually…” Kharmor spoke up as he stepped into the room alongside Ferris. “Iver, you remember that book I gave you?”

“A new Age of Change? Yeah. I was reading it all night. Why?”

“Have you gotten to his section on spicing?”

“No. Again, why?” I asked, clearly confused at what my Half-Dwarf friend was getting at.

“Well, in that section, Lind reveals that he is not only an accomplished CyDoc and Mallorick but also a Mystgenist. He did a lot of studing into the concept and applications of genetic splicing and discussed the ethics. He goes over the ideas and theory behind changing someone’s body to display physical changes, like growing scales on a Human or giving one breed of Elf traits from another breed. That was a big reason why I gave you the book after you told me about that genetic puzzle you’ve got going on.”

“Genetic puzzle?” Zynna asked.

With a grunt of effort, I pulled myself to my remaining foot and hopped over to sit on my bed while I explained. “I show traits from all breeds of Darkling. And I never knew my bio parents, so I neither know why I am this way nor what I should be. But, while getting those answers would be nice, what does that have to do with this current situation?”

As Kharmor continued, he became more animated, clearly feeling like he had an idea that would work. “I was just getting there. A fair chunk of that section discusses the ethics of splicing and mutating an infant before it is born. Which I think might pertain to you. But it also talks about how you can alter someone’s myst affinities to change a Mage from one class to another. He reviews the side effects of altering their Affinity Ratio. That’s the big thing I think will help with this predicament. Some of the side effects that are fairly common in people who have had this procedure done suffer from both physical and personality changes. Between his astounding understanding of genetics and how myst can permanently alter the body, I think you should talk with him about this. You were already planning on seeing him about cybernetics because he lives in the city, right?”

“I, uh, yeah.” I answered, stunned by how I could get answers to dozens of questions I had about myself from someone I was quickly growing to idolize.

“That settles it.” Navor stated. She pointed to me. “When you are fit enough in mind and body, I want you to go see this Lind person. I will also flip the bill for some basic cybernetics for you. I just need the costs.” She pointed to Kharmor. “I want you to help him to get to this CyDoc-Mystgenist person.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He answered.

“Screw it.” I said as I stood again. “I need answers.” I turned to Kharmor. “Is the prosthetic foot you mentioned ready?”

“Yeah. Want me to install it right now?”

“Please.” I resolutely confirmed

I’ll skip over the mounting process of attaching the false limb. But after about an hour's worth of fitting and adjusting, I was as ready to walk the streets as I could be. After I had a moderately functional foot, I looked up where I would find this Lind guy’s shop. After I found the destination, I called Teefa to pick us up. While I waited for our ride, I read Lind’s book. During the ride, I continued to read and only barely gave poor Teefa the most basic interaction I could spare. I was dimly aware that the Ceangar order agent gave me her condolences about my missing limbs and her failure to get us to safety. She rambled on for a solid several minutes about the events and her role in them. But Kharmor, who rode with me, politely explained that I was studying the concepts of advanced cybernetics I wanted installed after that trip. After that, Teefa kept quiet, which I was immensely grateful for. I’m sure anyone who has tried to read a book while on public transport can relate to my situation.

I will not lie. What that book held within its pages held me so tight that I might as well have been the very ink on those pages. Molecular cybernetic muscle fibers bound together as a single entity. Rapid synaptic echo response, allowing for the limbs to act as naturally as an actual organic limb. Those were only two of the concepts that I read over the course of that trip that I was hooked on like a starving fish at the end of a reel. I dug so deep into that book that I might as well have been a fevered mole burrowing so deep into the earth that I found the molten core of Anogwin.

Lind’s shop wasn’t far from my home base, only eight blocks from the house. I hobbled from the AV without even looking up from my book, Kharmor guiding me along the way as my nose remained buried in the book so deep I could smell the ink like a drug.

I was vaguely aware of Kharmor helping me through a door into some kind of shop. My Dwarven friend let go of my arm as a smooth male voice spoke up.

“Can I help you, young men?”

Kharmor spoke on my behalf. “My friend here wants to speak with the shop owner about getting some new limbs.”

I silently gave a nod of agreement as I turned the page to start on a section about the limitations of the mortal mind regarding cybernetics because of the synaptic response rate. I had only gotten two paragraphs in when I heard the same smooth male voice speak. “Ah. I see I have a fan of my work. How are you liking my theories?”

My head snapped up to find the speaker after I registered what he had just said. What I found was a true shock. An Elf unlike anything I had ever even heard of. The Elven man who stood behind the service counter was what I would call an obvious High Elf. His ears were truly massive, reaching six and a half inches in length. That meant he could only have been a pure-blood High Elf. His long hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and was so white that even High Elf nobles would have to step down to grant him the highest position. That hair was so white it almost seemed to glow even in the dim light of the shop. But unlike any Elf I had ever known, this man’s skin was the deepest, darkest black. His pristine skin wasn’t the black of anyone I had ever seen. This wasn’t the dark brown bordering on black that could be found in any species with bare skin. This black was so deep I would have thought that this man was cut and shaped from the night sky and stripped of every star.

This midnight-nightmare-skinned Elf was sharply dressed in an open chest vest of deep purple with silver detail under a lab coat stained in a range of fluids of all colors. Below that sharp vest and mad scientist’s coat, he wore a crisp pair of black slacks and a pair of black leather dress shoes that were just as sharp as his vest. I might have been the only person to notice that his pants and shoes bore the marks of chemical stains so dark that they almost blended in with the fabric, but I recognized those off-reflective sheens that only a craftsman collected while hard at work.

When I drew my eyes back up to his face I found a kind and knowing smile painted on a remarkably handsome face. Set within that face were eyes just as stunning as his skin. Irises that I could only explain and vibrant amethyst crystals set into sclera red so deep they could’ve been blood garnets. Those eyes seemed to hold a deep intelligence paired with a sad kindness that spoke to untold years of poor treatment paired with a desire to make the world a better place.

“I…uh.” I stammered.

“Iver.” Kharmor snapped at me in a harsh whisper.

“Yeah!” I started. “I’m sorry, sir. But, are you Mr. Lind Dragh?”

The Elf gentleman flashed me a wide, amused smile as he set a hand on the counter in front of him. “Please, just call me Lind. So, I need to ask, what do you think of my novel?”

“I…uh… It’s good.”

“Good?” Lind asked with a knowing smirk.

“Good?” Kharmor accused.

“Sorry!” I blurted as I snapped into a rail-rod straight pose. “I think your work is amazing Mr. Lind.”

Lind leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand as he continued to give me a knowing grin. “Really? What do you think is so amazing?”

I might not have had the sharpest social skills, but I knew when someone was testing me. “Well…um… I don’t know where to start. Your philosophy on cybernetic adaptation is… well... life-changing. I’ve been scared of getting any form of drastic cybernetic work done because I’ve been terrified of losing who I am. But your concept of self-improvement through mechanical augmentation is revolutionary.”

“Is that it?” Lind teased. Looking back at it now, he must’ve known that I was a fanboy because of this teasing.

“No, no, no. I really want to know more about this bio-synthetic cybernetic theory.” As I continued into an impassioned rant, I wildly gestured with my lone hand, the book still in my grip. “The thought of using nano-fiber mechanical muscle threads to replicate organic muscle movement is astounding. Oh! And your idea of a direct link to severed nerve lines with micro-electric receptors to reduce the energy taxation on the cybernetic is incredible. That alone should reduce the Mind Myst energy draw of the limb by at least eighty percent, if not more. But, that would have to be adjusted if modifications are added to the new limb beyond the standard function of the organic mechanical component. I mean, I’m sure many people who would have this kind of operation done would want some form of mechanical alteration made of the replacement limb. Thruster heels for a foot, integrated sidearm in a forearm, that kind of thing would have a strong modifying variable on the added limb. Or an A-symmetric limb replacement would also have additional variables. A new arm with three times the muscle capacity of the original limb would have to be adjusted for, obviously.”

“Iver!” Kharmor hissed at me. “Shut up. You’re gushing.”

“Oh! Sorry.” I bashfully mumbled before shutting my mouth out of embarrassment and locking my eyes on the floor.

“He’s fine. I’m honestly surprised that someone as young as you can understand my theory and philosophy so clearly. Your name is Iver?”

I have an energetic nod without looking up. “Yes, sir. Iver Maverick.”

“Well, young Master Maverick. How about you follow me to the back room, and we can discuss what you need?” As Lind spoke, he turned away and made his way toward a door at the rear of the room, waving for me to follow.

“Want me to come with you?” Kharmor asked nervously.

“I… I think I’ll be fine.” I gave Kharmor a parting wave, book still in-hand. as I hobbled to follow Lind as fast as I could.

It was only then that I took note of the room. The front room was a perfectly square space with display cases on each and every wall showing a wide range of cybernetics. At the standard waist level of each wall was an angled table that displayed the details of each limb displayed.

I followed Lind through a door into the back room, and I nearly fainted from what I saw. The so-called ‘backroom’ spanned eighty feet in every direction. A single work table spanned the entire perimeter of the entire room, complete with component drawers, tool racks, and more, so much, much more. Spaced throughout the room were crafting stations for everything, and I mean everything. Woodwork, metalwork, electrical work, circuit board design stations, a Full Body Scanning Apparatus station, a Bio-Integration And Genetic Breakdown station, I even spotted a nano-fundament crafting station.

The room I had just entered was a dream come true. If I had unfettered access to everything in that room, I could’ve made anything I could’ve imagined and I would push my imagination to the limit just to test what that room held. I wanted to work in that space so badly I was almost drooling.

“Come in, come in.” Lind invited me with a grand wave of his hand. “I am more than happy to provide my services to someone who understands my work.”

I staggered farther into the room, ogling the space like it was a prize of a thousand platinum. My reaction would likely have been the same for any other boy my age if he had StarLyght super model wearing almost nothing flirting with him. But anyone reading this needs to keep in mind that I was not a standard teenage boy. At that point in my life, I would have chosen that room over marriage with anyone, even a StarLyght Model. 

When I finally looked back to Lind, I found the Elf wearing a broad and joyful grin. “Honestly, I  can’t say how happy I am to find someone as dedicated to the craft as I am. So take a seat,” He gestured with a sweep of his hand toward an operating chair. “And let’s talk about what you need.”

As I stumbled forward, struggling to keep my balance with my false foot as I spoke. “Well, I need a bit more help from you than just cybernetics.”

“Oh?” Lind asked. “What do you need?”

So, I told him the abbreviated version of my story. I explained how I never knew my parents, but I have traits of each Darkling breed. I cut out most of the details about how I lost my limbs, but I mentioned the strange recent issue with Life Myst.

“Well, your situation does sound quite curious. Let’s take a few scans from my FSA and continue talking so I can get a bit more perspective.” As Lind spoke, he took a seat on a wheeled stool while he operated a computer terminal.

So I crawled onto the examination table and let the half-moon scanner run up and down my body, as I talked about my skin pattern, eye color, pupil shape, and so on. I might have gone into more detail than was strictly necessary, but Lind didn’t seem to have any issue with what I explained.

“Well, Iver, have you heard of the concept of Gene Babies?” Lind asked.

“Gene Babies?” I echoed in question.

“Well, the concept has plenty of names. The Changed, The Altered, Change Borne, Altered Kin, Shift Kin, and so on.” Lind listed off each of these terms like he was reading from a grocery list.

“No.” I answered.

I looked over to my doctor to find him typing away at his keyboard with a rapidfire rhythm as he continued. “Well, actually, it’s pretty interesting. It’s covered in the book you have, and I would love your perspective on it, given your situation.”

“What?”

Lind gave an amused snort before asking, “Are you aware of the concept of genetic splicing?”

“Uh, yeah. It’s when someone has their genetic makeup infused with gene code from an animal. Right?”

“Put simply, yes. The ethics of splicing has been a hot debate for a while now. The big question is are you still you if you become part animal?”

“I… don’t know.” I answered honestly.

“Don’t worry.” Lind said. “Most people have the same stance as you. There are signs that splicing causes alterations to the subject’s personality and mentality. But standard splicing is legal because it is the choice of the individual. But what about splicing a fetus while they are developing in the womb?

“That can’t be okay.” I stated.

“That is what many people say. Because that fetus can’t decide for itself if it wants the change, anything after the process is generally considered a product of gene-hybrid nature. Well, Gene Babies, or whatever you want to call them, are the product of that process. And I think you are one of those results.”

I sat up with a start to stare at the Elf. “You’re saying I’m a Splice Baby?”

“Well… Yes. But from these gene markers, it seems more complicated than that.”

I fell back into my seat, covering my eyes with my forearm. “By the Fragments, I’m a monster.”

There was a long moment of silence before Lind spoke again. “I wouldn’t call you a monster. But you are definitely an anomaly.”

“Anomaly.” I echoed with a bladed tone of spite directed at myself.

“Yes.” Lind replied as if he had not noticed my tone. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s just that…” Lind trailed off as I watched him lean in closer to his computer screen, scrutinizing the readings he had gathered from the FSA.

“It’s just that what?” I asked, my voice showing my panic.

“Well, it's that I don’t see any errors in your gene code. So whoever put you together was definitely an expert.”

“Put my together!?” At that point, I truly started to panic. I did not want to be some DNA cocktail monster.

“Calm down, Iver. From what I’m reading, you are… well… perfect.”

“What?” I asked, my voice clearly reflecting my obvious denial of the statement. How in Pandemonium could I be perfect? I had more mental problems than I even wanted to think of shaking a stick at. I made mistakes so terrible that I had gotten people killed. Even just physically, my body was flawed, not just because of the missing limbs, but also that hashwork of scars that covered my skin from the chest down.

“Look, boy. From these readings, your genetic makeup has been tailored down to the last cell. Honestly, these readings are astounding. Whoever put you together was beyond a master of genetics. I’m seeing gene markers for not only all four Darkling breeds but something else—possibly more than one something. Your horns are new, right?”

I subconsciously reached up to touch one of my horns as I answered with a nervous, “Yeah.”

“That makes sense. The readings from your horns are registering as almost completely new cell structures. But I’m not understanding a large piece of this. Your horns should not have developed as quickly as the readings are showing. Did something happen?”

“Uh… Yeah… Kinda.” So, I explained the situation that led up to my severed limbs as best as I could remember while cutting out any details about the Regulators.

“Ah, so that’s how you lost your arm and foot.” Lind said as he wheeled his stool over to me. He continued speaking as he closely and systematically examined the stumps of my severed limbs, my skin at several points of my body, my eyes, and my horns. “You mentioned that you entered a strange mental state and that things got, and to use your words, ‘weird’. I don’t suppose that you’re a Hecatomb?”

“A what?” I asked.

“A Hecatomb. It’s a very rare type of Mage that uses their blood as their spell focus and have a dangerous degree of control over blood in their near vicinity.”

“What?” I asked in confusion. “I’ve always been told that I’m a Myst-Blooded. Is that the same thing?”

With my question, Lind sat back and looked at me for a long moment without saying anything before finally asking, “You’re a member of the Hermetic Order of The Aegis, aren’t you?”

I forced myself up, propped by my elbow. “You know The Order?”

“Of course I do.” Lind said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was part of The Order for a while. I left the organization because of… philosophical differences.”

“What kind of differences?” I wearily asked.

“Their whole mission is to save as many lives as possible, regardless of the price. Personally, I think that throwing any life away is too high of a price. Every life has immense value and near-infinite potential. I left the Order so I could make a difference my own way. I started my own company and am making my own way through the world to improve things.”

“How did you know I was a member of The Order of the Aegis?”

“Earlier, you cursed using the phrase ‘by the Fragments’. That was clue number one. Then you said that you know your classification as Myst-Blooded. That is a very outdated term only used by the oldest and most secretive organizations.”

“Really?” I asked. “You called me a Hecatomb. Is that the modern term?”

Lind wobbled his head from side to side in a ‘kinda yes, kinda no’ fashion. “Just like the Shiftborne term, your Mage class has a lot of term titles because of how rare your kind is. I’ve heard your kind called Bloodletters, Gore Hunters, Morbidity Mages, Crimson Avengers, and even Hemomancers. Honestly, what you call yourself in either of these topics in entirely up to you. But I ask because your genetic code… It seems tailor-made for your Mage class.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, let’s start with that state you entered in the middle of the fight. That is an ability exclusive to your class called Blood Rage. Did anything else involving blood happen?”

“Uh, yeah. Thinking about it, I somehow controlled my own blood. I used it as a shield and as a weapon.”

Lind nodded at my words. “That would be the ability, Total Blood Control. Both of those abilities require relatively high skill to work smoothly. And it sounds like you tapped into both at a subconscious level. And I’m guessing that the horns changed in the middle of the fight. Am I right?”

“Yeah. I think so.” I said as I touched one of my horns with the tips of my fingers again.

“That explains a bit of it.” Lind said as he wheeled back to his computer terminal to review the readings.

“Explains what?” I asked.

“Well, this is going to be hard to explain without getting excessively technical.” Lind started. He read from his screen for a few more moments before wheeling back over to me, slapping his hands against his thighs. “So, let's start with the fact that you’re a Gene Baby. Whoever made you, and I do mean made, puzzled your genes together from several sources and modified them to fit together cleanly and almost seamlessly. A simple analogy for your gene structure is like a zipper.’

“A zipper?”

“Yes.” Lind started making hand motions to help him elaborate as he explained. If either side of a zipper is genetic code from one source each, then your maker found a way to add that zipper centerpiece to mesh the different genes together so cleanly that I’m not sure exactly what all makes you up right now. If what my readings say is correct, you do have a mother, because a single egg was used to develop you. That much is clear. But as far as your father is concerned… I think that you have at least three fathers from several species and likely another mother.”

“Several fathers?!” I exclaimed. “So I’m not just a Darkling with Human or Elf genetics?”

“Correct.” Lind stated calmly. 

My jaw dropped as I tried to process this information. I didn’t have just one father. I had multiple fathers. What did that mean?

“Wait. What about the second mother thing? And how do I have traits from all the Darkling breeds?”

Lind took a long breath through closed teeth before slowly letting out the air. He was clearly thinking, “I think those questions have the same answer.”

I stared with a slack jaw and half-closed eyes at the midnight-skinned Elf as I tried to figure out what he was trying to say. Before I could construct the question I was trying to puzzle together, Lind continued.

“So, without getting too deep into details that I doubt will make any sense to you, let me make this simple. You do have a second mother. This person somehow has very potent genes from some kind of devil, some kind of demon, some kind of drude, and some kind of oni. I don’t know how any of that is possible. And to add to this, there are additional gene markers from something that I have never seen before. It’s not genetics from any Sophic Species, Bellicose Species, monster, or animal I have ever seen. Because of the gene markers from that parent, your body is periodically going to excessively rapid changes. Your new horns are only one part of that. Your body’s reaction to Life Myst to heal you is another.”

“What? How does the failed healing thing work into all of this?”

Lind leaned forward and locked eyes with me. “I saw your affinity ratio. Having flat zeros in all Lumina Elements should not be possible. At least not for anything that is living or not from another plane of existence. But you are this way. You are a living creature, native to Anogwin, and you are this way.” Lind threw himself to wheel backwards, spinning as he went. “You are an anomaly of the rarest kind. And you are astoundingly clever for your age.”

“Clever?” I asked.

“Yes!” Lind shot to his feet hard enough to send his stool spinning away as he stretched his arms wide. “Iver, I know Humans three times your age that don’t comprehend what is in my book. Hells, I know CyDocs and Mystgenists who don’t understand what I wrote in those pages. My boy, you might very well be a genius unmatched by anyone of your age and even generations older.”

I stared at Lind for a long few moments with skeptical eyes before I threw my legs over the edge of the table to hang near the floor. “I’m sorry Mr.Lind. But I’m not a genius. I might have a streak of cleverness, but I’m stupid. Anyone could craft anything I’ve made if they needed to make it. Maybe I’m better with my hands than most, but I’m no genius. I couldn’t split an atom if I was given all the tools of the megacorps and years’ worth of work.”

Lind scoffed at me with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I know master scientists that couldn’t split an atom with decades of work. That example holds about as much solidity as a sieve full of water. But I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?” I asked.