Artos stares at me contemplatively for nearly a minute before answering. “There are couple things that can be done. They're not easily accessible for most people and they aren't permanent fixes, but with attention and care your condition is a manageable one.”

  He’s talking like I have an incurable disease. Which, in a way, I guess I do. He raises a single finger as he continues. “First, you need to know who is safe to be around. And by safe I mean people who won’t be driven to compulsive obsession just from being near you. That doesn’t mean they aren’t still a little affected. They will notice you more and be more positively predisposed towards you, but it’s not enough to make them go crazy and do anything rash that they wouldn't normally do anyway.

  “These "safe" people are either beings whose souls are naturally strong enough to withstand being around you or they are those who have managed to strengthen their souls enough not to crack under the pressure. Those in the first category are the gods, greater spirits- oh, you probably don’t know what those are.” Artos waves a hand in the air at the realization. “You’ll learn about those later. There’s also creatures known as the mythical beasts, like dragons and shit. The second category is made up of people known as grandmasters. They are mortals who have attained a level of strength that that makes are functionally immortal. They’re pretty rare, but luckily for you, young Ja’karis is one such, and I believe those three kids he has a working for him are as well. You’ll have to ask him if there are any others, but an empire's got to have a few of them hanging about to keep itself in working order.”

  I feel more than a little relief in hearing that, along with a sense of security I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before. The four waiting outside get neatly added to my newly made list of favorite people, right there up with dead people. Though, from the sounds of it, the people I can be comfortable spending time with are going to be few and far between. I guess rarified air is the only air for me from now on. How posh.

  Also, I'm both happy to learn that dragons are a thing here and incredibly disappointed that I'm not one of them.

  “As for what else can be done.” Artos theatrically snaps his fingers and a surge of something swirls in front of me before a mask appears out of nowhere, hovering in the air until I pick it up. It’s a dark blue mask with a single three inch horn on the left side at the top, all but featureless with a stunning eight pointed star on the forehead and a black tear drop at the corner of where there would normally be eyes holes. When I’m done looking it over I turn my attention back to Artos for an explanation. “I made this for you, don't worry you'll be able to see through it just fine. It can suppress the effect your soul has on others, but only for a time. Since the influence of your soul comes from The Transcendent, not even I can keep that shit under wraps forever. I’ll have to make a new one for you every few years or so.”

  He’s saying it so casually, like he doesn’t realize he’s just handed me the world. A spark I didn’t think I had anymore ignites in my chest as I realize what I can do with this. Anything. I can do anything at all. Anything I want. I won’t have to watch everyone around me with a cautious eye or stop myself from doing or wanting things because doing or wanting them is too risky or makes me too vulnerable. The spark turns into a quiet, intense little blaze, like the flame of a blowtorch. With this mask I can actually live, and it’s only now that I realize just how much I want that.

  I feel like my eyes are burning as Artos continues with a knowing look, but he doesn’t say anything about it. “I’ve added a few other effects as well. First and foremost, you can always use that to contact me. I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about." He waggles an eyebrow. "Also, whenever you want it can avert people’s attention from you or even make you outright invisible. You didn’t seem the type to appreciate being the center of attention. You just have to think about what you want while you're wearing it and the function will activate.”

  I hold the mask to my chest, suddenly ready to forgive Artos for everything. What’s a little poison between friends? “Thank you.”

  Artos looks satisfied with my reaction, maybe even a little smug. “Of course, it’s my job.” He pauses and looks off to the side, likely listening to Gwenivere. After a while he turns back to me. “Okay, so you’re mother wanted me to remind you that, technically, you aren’t human anymore. Somehow, likely due to your special nature, you ended up assimilating energy from the two of us which has changed you both in body and in soul. In short, we don’t know what you are or how exactly this will present itself, but we are at least sure that this change won’t negatively affect you. When you notice something different or if you have any questions about any changes you notice please tell one of us, or ask Ja’karis to bring you here.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Artos takes a deep breath, apparently having gotten most of Gwen’s words out. Then he winks at me. “On the bright side, if you get busy making babies you could probably start your own unique race now, you could even name it.”

  The idea nearly makes me gag. I don’t know if I’m naturally asexual, but I’ve accumulated so many trust and intimacy issues over the years that even the idea of making the beast with two backs with someone gives me chills. And not the good kind of chills. The I’m about the vomit and maybe cry kind of chills. The very idea of being that close to another person is genuinely, deeply horrifying. Truly, the stuff of nightmares. My thoughts must show on my face because Artos snorts a laugh.

  “Okay, I’ll take that as a hold on grandkids.” His smile turns positively evil. “It would take a lot of time to make a race anyway. But if you ever change your mind just let me know and I’ll get you your own har-” He cuts off then starts again after a few seconds, his smile suppressed. “Your mother wants me to stop teasing you.”

  I decide to take the chance to smoothly change the subject by asking a question of my own. “Why can I understand what the people here are saying? I don’t speak the language.”

  He makes an “ah” face. “Right, you don’t speak the language. I should’ve thought of that. Here, just wait a second…” I feel a funny tickle in my mind and then something seems to click into place and I have to take a moment to blink the feeling the away. “There. A permanent translation spell. Divine grade. You can speak with confidence now. As for why you could understand them before that?” He shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe it’s because of what happened with us and how you entered the world. Your experiences as a self aware soul might’ve allowed you to subconsciously learn to understand meaning on a conceptual and spiritual level. You don’t know the language, but you understand the meaning it conveys regardless. That would be my best guess.”

  It seems as good a reason as any. Sure sounds convincing, so I’m willing to buy it despite knowing he's a professional seller of bullshit. Suddenly remembering the one sided conversation I had with Ja'karis earlier I raise a hand to both get his attention and to stop him from saying anything else. "Cassius. My name is Cassius."

  It seems like something they should know, yet, unsurprisingly, his response is to click his tongue and look to the side briefly again. When I raise an eyebrow at him he sighs, looking remarkably sulky for a divine being who is literally as old as dirt. "Your mother did want me to ask you, but I was hoping it wouldn't come up. I wanted to name you myself."

  Like most things, I don't really have strong feelings about that, so I just shrug. It's a move born out of mask bought forgiveness. "Sure, go ahead." Then, realizing I was only saying that to him and not wanting to play favorites I add. "You can both give me different names if you want, I don't mind."

  It could get confusing, but I also can't imagine the two of them agreeing on a name. Artos looks pleasantly surprised, giving me a pleased smile. "Alright. We'll think about it. I appreciate it."

  “Oh, right, speaking of two different identities." Artos says with a snap of his fingers, like something just occurred to him. "There is a somewhat important little detail I should probably give you a heads up on. You’ll likely find them soon, but you have stigmata from both of us that we didn’t actually give you and also can't take away. We likely would’ve given them to you, but somehow you just got born with them? I don’t know. You're kind of weird.

  “Now, if you don't know, stigmata is a mark a person receives from a god that visually indicates the favor that god holds them in by granting them a specific power. They’re relatively rare and usually fairly small, the rank going up with their size. Yours are just about as big as they get. That does grant you significantly more power from the two of us, but it also technically makes you roughly equivalent to a saint or a pope in both our religions. Now we’re both very aware that’s not something you signed up for, but since it seems we can't actually take them back you're going to have to deal with everyone seeing you as our divine representative if they find out about them. So, if that’s not something you want, I would try to keep that under wraps. Though it might be kind of hard, you'll see why.”

  I open my mouth, not sure what I want to ask but knowing I want to ask something, but he holds up a hand.

  "Hold on, that's not quite all of it. As you've probably figured out, Gwen and I haven't always gotten along as well as we currently do." A part of my mind wanders off on a rabbit trail as it tries to imagine what could've been worse about their relationship as opposed to the absolute harmony they had with each other now. "Which means our respective organizations aren't exactly fond of each other. Don't know how that will shake out, but it's something to look out for."

  I wait for him to say something else, to maybe give me some actual warning or clue as to what might happen to me because of that, but he doesn't say anything. "Is this something I should worry about? Will they react negatively toward me because of that?"

  His eyebrows raise like the thought this could all go tits up hadn't even occurred to him. "Negatively? No, of course not. My guys will more than likely be smug as fuck for a while. Your mother's people though... they're a bit more uptight. The idea of you being raised here instead of there will probably drive them up a wall. So they might try to like, I don't know, kidnap you or something. That should be fun to watch."

  Oh. Is that all? Well, I guess I have that to look forward to.