Her eyes swirled with amusement. Her right brow rose, as if to ask, are you truly trying to change the topic?
“Well?”
“Each part of Erzili that is severed possesses limited sentience.” She explained, raising her hand into the air. “They hold memories. Information. Once Erzili cut off that finger and gave it to you, it contained the information of everything that happened up until that moment. Erzili reunited with it in a parallel world and the memories followed.”
That was useful. Useful, and at the same time, worrying. Erzili possessed an effective counter against my [Duality].
“It was conflicting, at first,” Erzili admitted. “Possessing two different memories of events occurring. One in which the day proceeded as usual, and one in which you arrived, killed all my darlings, and Erzili chose to serve you.”
Erzili stepped forward, blue eyes searching me. “You lied, to Erzili, about your Epithet Skill.”
“…a necessary precaution.”
“You do not trust Erzili.”
“A necessary precaution.”
“Erzili understands. Trust is something one earns after all. You must keep your secrets, to ensure you are not betrayed. So, then, Erzili must simply earn your trust.”
Her hand stretched out, a reminder that ‘her’ form was anything ‘she’ chose it to be. It reached for a book across the room, grabbing it, and then returning it to her lap. “You understand the Mothertongue, and you possess the Nightscripts, thus, the universe is yours to command. You may bend the words of fate and records of existence to your whim.”
She tore a page from the book in her lap, and then morphed her hand into an inky quill, before stretching it over to me. “Try, attempting, to write upon this parchment, a desire to learn what it means for me to be your devoted servant.”
I took Erzili’s quill-hand, giving the Slithercreep an odd look, I wrote, slowly, in English, unto the parchment:
PROVIDE MORE INFORMATION ON MINIONS
If what I suspected was true, the Antediluvian Hieroglyphs were command console codes for Alamir. It explained why the denizens of the world were terrified to death to see it, and why they could go insane from reading it. I couldn’t use it to remove my skills or do anything insane with it, but if I input a basic command like asking for more information…
[Recognizing Command Prompt…]
[Analyzing…]
[Checking Authorization Level…]
[Authorization Granted!]
[Hints and Notes have been enabled for the Minion menu and Minion Information submenu.]
Erzili took one look at the words I’d written, and shuddered with excitement. Or, perhaps, terror. I could not tell which was which.
[From displaying knowledge of the Antediluvian Hieroglyphs, your Minion’s Loyalty to you has gone up!]
[From displaying knowledge of the Antediluvian Hieroglyphs, your Minion’s fear of you has gone up!]
I remembered now, that I could see Erzili’s loyalty and fear of me in the Minion menu in numerical values. I was not entirely sure how accurate the numerical values were but I would be using them as a benchmark.
“Now, try using your Nightscripts again.”
“Minions.”
Notes on Minions:
Minions are enforcers of a powerful Monster’s will. They are typically lower-tier monsters that willingly or unwillingly serve superior monsters in a pseudo-symbiotic relationship. Minions gain a 120% increase in EXP Gain when serving underneath a Monster of a higher or equal Tier, and in turn, the Monster gains a 60% share of all EXP accumulated by his minions, along with all their beneficial Titles, Skills and Parameter Points.
My eyes almost bulged out of my skull. I snapped my head to Erzili, and then back to the note, and then back to Erzili once more. I gain all of the titles and skills of my minions?
“I can use your skills?”
She gave me a coy look. A mischievous expression, as if to say ‘do you understand now?’
“Go on,” she said. “I am yours to command.”
I closed my eyes. Thinking of Erzili’s skill – [Morph]. The skill that enabled Erzili to shapeshift. To change forms. My body contorted underneath my control, becoming moldable, pliable, ready and willing to change into any form or matter I desired it to be. Then, with sudden trepidation, I realized something.
I don’t remember what I’m supposed to look like –
I didn’t remember my appearance in my previous life. My hair, my height, my face, the color of my skin – nothing. I could not recall any of it. Whatever I transformed into, whatever I turned into, it would not be me. That me was gone. There was no bringing him back.
So… what should I make myself look like?
So far, no one, not even Erzili, had seen my face. No one knew my race, or what sort of monster I was supposed to be. Nothing was stopping me, from pretending to be an entirely different type of monster than the one I was to throw people off. To hide my weaknesses, or perhaps, make myself more feared and revered.
A human appearance would not do me much good in a fort of monsters that heralded me as their King. With that in mind, I chose a supernatural creature that was close enough to possess a human appearance, and should, at the very least, exist in Alamir.
Fangs, pale skin, red-eyes, bewitching face, tall, broad-chested, swimmer-body muscle definition, midnight-black hair, pointed ears, long nails –
With zest, I finished my transformation. Erzili couldn’t transform or create clothes, so I could not either. I took off my Mask of Janus for the first time and allowed Erzili’s eyes to widen at the features I’d chosen.
Conjuring a mirror from sand with my right hand, I admired my features within it. Ironic, considering that if I were to go by the lore of the monster I’d chosen as my cover, I shouldn’t
