"How lucky can one guy be? How in Hades did you get a mask of a Mormo?"
Lucky? I thought to myself.
Then I yelled it, in my head.
LUCKY!!!
"I'm the darn unluckiest sucker alive, the hell you mean lucky," I snapped at her. "And you hit me, you were actually hit me!"
Lyssa had the audacity to look sheepish for about half a second before that manic grin returned full force. She twirled the hydra fang sword in her hand like it was a baton, the vine hilt adjusting perfectly to her grip.
"Oh pish, posh I controlled myself, at most you'd have a swollen face, but let's focus on the important part, how did you get the mask of a Mormo?!"
"I killed one."
"You killed one," she said, her voice dripping with disbelief. She stopped twirling the sword and planted it point-first into the rocky ground, leaning on it like a walking stick.
"I killed one."
"How?"
"I fought it."
"Ha!" She threw her head back and laughed so hard I thought she might fall over.
"That's a fake laugh."
It's real," she said growing serious for a moment.
"Totally fake," I rebuked.
"That is the most real, authentic, hysterical laugh of my entire because you, Mr. I'm-not-great-at-fighting, took down a Mormo in single combat?"
I felt my face heat up. "What you don't think I could kill one?"
"Kill one sure, fight it, no way." She wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. "I've seen plenty of demigods in my time, Julius. Some could have fought a monster maybe even killed it without formal training, but a Mormo those can be counted in one hand, and you don't make the cut."
"I did well against the Hydra didn't I?"
"You did great, in Zeus' name, you saved my ass, eh maybe not saved, but definitely made it easier, but you didn't fight it now did ya." She gestured wildly with her free hand. "You outsmarted it. Big difference between brains and brawn, pretty boy."
I grumbled under my breath, frustration building in my chest. Part of me wanted to tell her about Richter, about how he was the one who actually did the fighting, but that would open up a whole other can of worms I wasn't ready to deal with, especially since she'd just go on and on about how she was right about me being crazy. Instead, I found myself wishing Richter would show up and prove her wrong.
'Richter,' I called out mentally. 'You wanna deal with this crazy girl?'
Silence.
'Richter?' I tried again, more insistent this time.
Nothing but the hollow echo of my own thoughts.
While I cursed out both Lyssa and my absent other personality in my head, I felt that strange sensation again, like water running down my face and seeping into my pores. My vision shifted, and suddenly it went back to normal, the aura around Lyssa all gone.
"Oh it's gone," Lyssa muttered, her hands reaching forward to touch my face, probably my cheeks.
As if I was going to allow that.
"No touchy, no touchy," I said, swatting her hands away before she could make contact.
She looked genuinely downcast at my rejection, her bottom lip actually jutting out in a pout. "Aw, come on. I just wanted to see if there were any residual effects."
"Residual effects of what? And exactly what is the deal with this Mormo mask anyway?"
"First," she said, straightening up and adopting what I could only describe as a teaching pose, hands clasped behind her back, chest puffed out slightly. "Do you know what a Mormo even is?"
"Women that died in agony, live in agony and feed on others to remain corporeal," I recited, remembering Artemis's words.
"Huh," Lyssa blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "I didn't expect you to know, but yes they are basically vampires but they feed on death, it's like their meat. How'd you know that? And not about Hecate? Weird pool of knowledge you have, dude."
"Remember how I told you I met Artemis? She was hunting down the Mormo."
"Aha!" Lyssa pointed at me triumphantly, that manic grin returning. "So that's how you killed it! Artemis fought it and you got in a lucky strike, didn't ya. That makes way more sense than you actually-"
"No," I interrupted, pulling up my shirt to show her the bruising on my ribs. "I killed her before Artemis showed up."
The deep purple bruise had already begin to lessen into a light shade of indigo though it still stretched across most of my torso, a testament to just how brutal that fight had been.
"Ouch," Lyssa said, wincing as she examined the damage. "That looks like it hurt like a son of a cyclops."
"You're telling me," I muttered, lowering my shirt. "So the mask, what's it about? Why did you react like I'd just pulled out Excalibur or something?"
"Oh the mask, right, duh!" She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Damn ADHD, making me focus on the wrong stuff. Okay, sit down for this one, because it's gonna be a long explanation."
I didn't sit, she just sighed mumbled something about me being no fun, and continued.
"Mormos are actually very, very rare monsters, for a few reasons. First off, the women who become Mormos have to die in agony, and I'm not talking about your garden-variety painful death. I'm talking about deaths so unimaginably painful and traumatic that their souls literally can't move on. Their hearts become so filled with vengeance and rage that they cling to the mortal world instead of going to the Underworld."
She paused in her pacing to take a swig from a wine bottle that appeared in her hand - I was starting to get used to that particular magic trick.
"But here's the kicker, what kills them has to be something that isn't normal. Something from our world, you know? Which means it only happens to two types of mortals. The first being mortal parents to demigods who get targeted by monsters trying to get to their kids."
I guess the Wilsons come into this territory.
"The second type," Lyssa continued, "and this is where most Mormos come from, are mortals that can see through the Mist. We call it having clear sight, and it's why these monsters fall under Hecate's domain. These mortals can see monsters, gods, all the supernatural stuff that's normally hidden from regular people. Makes them targets."
"Got all that?" she asked, pausing to look at me.
I nodded, to her words. "So they know what killed them."
"Exactly!" Lyssa snapped her fingers. "They die knowing exactly what's killing them and why. That kind of clarity in death, combined with that level of agony... it creates something really nasty."
She started pacing again, her energy seemingly inexhaustible.
"Now, here's where it gets really interesting. The Mormos themselves, since they had clear sight when they were alive, their masks are like a representation of that ability, but evolved. Amplified. If you have a Mormo mask, you can see through anything that's cloaked by the Mist. Illusions, disguises, shapeshifting, none of it works on you. You can even see the true forms of gods without having your eyes burnt out of their sockets."
"Okay," I said slowly, "that sounds useful, but I still don't see what garnered your reaction."
"You don't get it!" Lyssa threw her hands up in exasperation. "No monster, demigod, anything can sneak up on you while you're wearing that mask! Even abilities like Medusa's stone gaze become ineffective, theoretically, at least. There are no written accounts of anyone actually testing that, since only two actual demigods have ever had a Mormo mask, again they are super rare, but the principle is sound. They're the ultimate perception object!"
She was getting more animated as she spoke, her wine bottle disappearing and reappearing as she gestured.
"And what's even better, anyone can wear a mask, even a damn mortal! You could give clear sight to a regular human being. Do you know how incredible that is?"
I really couldn't understand her excitement, must be because I was kind of new to all of this. "And how exactly does that help us right now? We're still stuck on this island."
She pointed her finger at me, opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed it, looking thoughtful for the first time since I'd met her.
She opened her mouth again, but that manic grin was gone, instead replaced by something that almost looked like a frown.
"The mist here is strong," she said finally. "It lessens our smell to monsters, which is good, but it also lessens our own vision at times. Things can sneak up on you in ways they never could in the regular world. If you wear the mask, nothing can surprise you. Nothing can get the drop on you."
"Well then I guess that's kind of good."
"Kind of good?" Lyssa's eye twitched. "I want to strangle you."
"Please don't," I answered, taking a step back.
"Ugh, nevermind. You may be crazy but you're still new to all this." She sighed dramatically, then suddenly her expression changed. Her hand opened up, and vines sprouted from the ground in a flash, entangling my ankles and wrists before I could react.
"What are you doing?" I asked, surprisingly calm about this sudden turn of events. Maybe I was getting used to the constant chaos that seemed to follow me around. Or maybe, I'd get shellshock when all of this was said and done. Wouldn't that be a funny turn of events?
"We need to test this thing properly," she said, approaching me with purpose. The vine hilt from the hydra's fang elongated to reach her hand, then shortened accordingly as she secured it to her waist like a belt. "Will the mask to return to your face."
"Why do I need to-"
She struck my bruised ribs without warning.
"Son of a-"
"Will it," she said interrupting. "The mask responds to will, just like most demigod powers. You need to practice calling it up on command."
I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate through the pain.
BAM
Another strike to my ribs, harder this time.
"Don't close your eyes," she commanded. "You also closed your eyes eatlier, when you tried to use charmspeak, we need to get that crutch out of you before it becomes an actual problem. Focus."
I concentrated. I -
BAM
"I just told you not to close your eyes."
"You crazy bitch," I gasped, the pain flaring through my torso.
"Yeah I am, now will it." She raised her hand for another strike. "And hurry up, my arm's getting tired."
Will. Just believe, and it will come true. I thought of the mask, of that liquid sensation spreading across my face-
BAM
"Too long, same as before. This isn't rocket science, Julius. Will it to appear."
I thought, but not a sensation, not a memory, not a hypothetical, a simple word, one.
COME.
I didn't even think about what was supposed to come, it just did.
I felt it, the liquid spreading from my pores and swimming across my face like warm water. My vision expanded once more, and I could see not just Lyssa's purple and wine-red aura, but also the sickly green energy radiating from the vines that held me. Even the silver trees nearby had their own faint aura surrounding them.
"There we go," she said with a satisfied smile.
I however didn't let up. This girl had been hitting me, tying me up, and generally treating me like a bag of rocks, and I needed some payback, may have been petty, but so what.
I guess I'm petty. I only had one thing at my disposal.
Charmspeak.
It was about persuasion. But I didn't want to persuade. I wanted her to listen. To do as I commanded. I wanted her to let me go. I wanted to not be hit anymore. I wanted to sleep after this fucked up day.
And so just like before, I didn't even think, I simply spoke, a commanding voice, a voice no one could deny.
The voice of a leader.
"Let me go."
Her gaze went blank instantly. The vines withered away like they'd been hit with poison, and I was free. I walked toward her, her gaze still vacant and unfocused, and wound up my fist.
BAM
I struck her in the gut as hard as I could, putting all my frustration behind the blow.
She buckled to her knees, gasping as her awareness returned.
"Fu-"
"Don't hit me when I'm bruised," I told her firmly. "Or at all, really."
"I should-" she started, still catching her breath.
"Yeah, you should do a lot of things. Thanks for teaching me about the mask, but you can't just hit me whenever you feel like it. After all, I'm crazy like you say, right? I could snap."
She looked up at me from her position on the ground, and for a moment I thought she might actually be angry. Then she started laughing, though this time it actually felt like she meant it.
"Sure you would," she laughed, sitting cross-legged on the rocky ground to look at me properly. Her wine-red eyes met my ivory green ones, she seemed on the verge of tears from her laughter. "You know what? Maybe you did kill that Mormo after all."
"Maybe I did," I agreed, willing the mask to return to wherever it went when I wasn't using it. The sensation of the liquid receding was almost as strange as it appearing.
"So what's the verdict?" she asked, still grinning. "Think you can handle having a legendary magical artifact stuck to your face?"
"Eh maybe but I can't be bothered with that anymore, now I'm gonna go sleep," I announced, heading toward the vine hut. "Unless you need my help with anything else, I've been cut, burnt, bruised, interrogated, charmed, teleported and fuck knows what else in less than 24 hours, so I'm kind of done with life's shit for today."
She laughed even more, her voice booming across the rocky beach.
"Sure, sure," she waved me off, but there was warmth in her dismissal. "You go sleep. I'll do some other stuff in the meantime."
I walked into the hut, settling into one of the hammocks, marveling again at how comfortable they were. The gentle swaying motion was surprisingly soothing, I felt like I was about to go to sleep at any minute.
Lyssa leaned against the entrance of the hut, silhouetted against the early morning light.
"I'm gonna close this up so you can sleep properly," she said, vines already beginning to weave across the opening. "Sleep tight, sleeping beauty."
"Thanks, you drunk psycho," I mumbled, already half-asleep.
As the vines sealed us into comfortable darkness, I realized something, it may have been because my life was fucked up beyond belief, but I was feeling something I hadn't felt in forever, I wasn't feeling so... alone.
I had someone, who I could laugh with, converse with, act crazy with, fight with and be in silence with.
Someone who wasn't Richter.
I wasn't sure what it was.
Was this what people call a... friendship?
Could I really make a friendship so quickly? In these circumstances? With a psycho chick?
I guess I could.
Even if she did have a habit of hitting me.
A/N: Look at our emo kid, growing a heart. Sure it's to someone even crazier than he is, but oh what the hell, they are a match made in heaven... hell... nah too crazy for either, fields of Punishment it is then, they are a match made in the Fields of Punishment. A friendly match though, no romance there, you filthy degenerates.
Either way, here's the explanation for the Mormo mask, and what was that new thing with his charmspeak, so many questions, so little answers (for you, I know them all, muahahahah!!!!)
I hope you all enjoyed it. I could also upload an extra chap if we get enough power stones or reviews so get to it.
Thx for reading
Author out