“Okay, I’m starting to get a feel for the Maculat impulses. It seems like if someone states that they are adamant that they or others should do a certain thing, behave a certain way, or consider something taboo…

Fervently ascribe to a moral code? Elliot asked.

“Yeah, that.” Calvin said, snapping his fingers. “Now, I want to see if I guessed right, and if I did, we’ll use this as training to control it.”

Calvin had each of his three Chained Spirits lined up in his hotel room, waiting for the results of the Summit. Preferably the results didn’t include and order for his execution.

I can’t believe I said that shit. Sure he had a lot of pent up anger towards Iletha, but that had been a bad move, diplomatically speaking.

Calvin shook his head, dismissing those thoughts and returning to the experiment.

“Alright, I want each of you to give me statements about something you consider reprehensible and would absolutely never do, or a belief you hold close to your heart.”

“I would never do butt stuff.” Nadia said.

“Nope. Next.” Calvin said.

“It’s my duty to serve my people to the best of my ability.” Kala said.

Strangely, Calvin didn’t get the urge to jump in and contradict her.

“I would never betray them.”

“Eep!” Calvin clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from trying to convince her to betray Gadvera.

The urge welled up inside him for about five seconds, rising up until it felt like his eyeballs were swimming in it, then receded like the tide.

Mud puddle avoided.

“Okay, next.”

“The Word of a Ravager is that of a god.” Kurawe rumbled.

“Not really, Ravagers are just exiles from an alien race of intergalactic conquerors…Damnit.”

Guess you didn’t manage to avoid that one. Elliot said.

“That’s why this is training. Next!” Calvin said, looking at Nadia.

“I have hard limits on what sexual acts I will and will not do,” Nadia said, glancing off to the side with an innocent look.

“Stating the opposite of your core values does nothing.” Calvin said, narrowing his eyes at Nadia. The buxom princess stuck out her tongue at him.

“Making others happy is critical to my self-worth,” Kala admitted, her cheeks reddening.

“Nnng!” Calvin bit his fist, riding out the wave.

“The Battle of Lenser Pass was a godsdamned travesty where the last true Uleisan patriots died.” Kurawe said.

Calvin shook his head, turning back to Nadia.

“I find you absolutely intolerable, every minute I spend with you makes me long for the sweet release of death.” She said with a smirk.

“I said –“ Calvin gagged himself again as the instinct welled up in him again. Once the urge to change her mind subsided, he sighed.

“Good one,” He said, breathing out slowly.

Guess it makes sense she’s trying to get her body back.

Nadia looked puzzled though, her brows furrowed.

“Next!”

They spent the next hour or so trying to train Calvin not to immediately try to corrode people’s most cherished beliefs, but it was an uphill battle, especially after he tried convincing Kala that her parents never loved her.

That hadn’t gone over well.

As they worked, they rapidly ran out of things to bring up, as it seemed that he only felt the impulse to corrupt a specific belief once per person, and most of a person’s deep-seated thoughts lurked…well…deep beneath the surface.

If they were easy to pick out, they wouldn’t qualify.

After an hour, no one could easily think of anything new, so Calvin decided to call it there, allowing his Chained Spirits to do as they wished for the rest of the day. Kala went to the library, Nadia went out, and Kurawe began shuffling through paperwork he hadn’t been able to catch up on without hands.

The results of the training? The impulse to corrupt hadn’t weakened at all, but Calvin had learned to feel it coming about two seconds earlier, giving him a much broader window to either gag himself or leave the situation.

I think I’m starting to get a handle on this whole not being alive thing… Calvin thought. All in all, it didn’t really change much about him other than a few chaotic – but manageable – impulses and a lack of a sense of pain.

He was still himself, and that was more than anyone could ask for after rising from the dead.

Not regenerating Bent stung a bit, but between Nadia and Kurawe using Siphon regularly on his behalf, that wasn’t a problem.

Well, Nadia being infamous might be a bit of a problem.

Calvin closed his eyes and mentally stepped into her body. He saw that she was avoiding major crowds, a concealing hood over her head. She’d been named a demonic enemy of mankind in the public eye, after all.

I wonder why she was confused earlier when she said she hates me, and it registered on my Maculat-o-meter? She decided to just tell the truth, didn’t she? Up until then she’d been simply stating the…opposite of how she really felt.

I find you absolutely intolerable, every minute I spend with you makes me long for the sweet release of death.

Opposite: I love being with you and every minute I spend with you makes me want to be alive again?

Calvin’s eye twitched.

That…could be complicated.

Assuming my read on that is accurate, it also means that if a deep-rooted value is being communicated in an oblique way, as long as the person delivering the message intended it to be deciphered, it still triggers my impulse to jump on it.

So it’s less the words, than the intent behind them.

There was a knock at the door.

Calvin glanced at the windows overlooking the dunes, then Kurawe.

No guarantee Jonathan hasn’t sent someone to kill me already.

Kurawe nodded, then moved to the door while Calvin put his back to a nice thick wall, keeping his eyes on both the windows and the door.

“Delivery from The high shaman of the Plainslanders for Calvin Gadsint,” Came a young boy’s voice form the hall. “The message reads, I’ve never seen Jonathan so humiliated. Thank you for an entertaining evening. Enjoy these, with my compliments.”

The young man handed Kurawe a fist-sized brown bag. Kurawe thanked the boy and sent him on his way, opening the bag.

Inside was a pouch of beeswax preserving…some lumpy something or other.

“Carmelized nuts.” Kurawe said, tearing the bag open and smelling it. “It’s a Plainlander treat. They get the sugar from grasses that grow to the south of them, and the nuts in the floating mountains that dot the plains.”

He popped one in his mouth and crunched down on it.

“Not poisonous. You want some?”

“Put it on the desk,” Calvin said, gesturing.

Halfway back to the desk, there was another knock.

Kurawe raised a brow, dropping off his baggage before returning to the door.

“Delivery from the Marquis of Surrak,” A boy’s voice from the other side of the door said, before a cart was wheeled into Calvin’s room bearing every manner of fine fruit Calvin had ever heard of, and even a few he hadn’t.

The boy was trailed by two women wearing little more than thin veils over their bodies that left little to the imagination. The two of them were just a couple years older than Calvin, voluptuous in the extreme, and were both giving him flirtatious stares as the messenger read the missive.

“Calvin Gadsint. I could not be prouder that your story started in my lands. You probably need refreshment after giving that Ilethan scum a well-deserved humiliation, and so I took the liberty of arranging some for you. Nissa and Henna are the finest courtesans in Mujenan, and they were eager to make the acquaintance of The Wasp, and will be sure to ease your worries in place of your sadly absent wife. They’ve mastered every manner of pleasure known to man, and would happily give you a demonstration. Their skills include –”

The young boy’s face was beet red as he read the letter, but he got to the end like a pro. Good job, kid.

Calvin blinked. Kala wasn’t saying anything, but he knew she could see and hear through his eyes. He could practically feel her gaze judging him.

There was no doubt the current situation had caught her eye.

Go ahead, have a good time, she said, her voice nonchalant.

Kala, I want your dad not to kill me, and for that to happen, I need you to agree to being resurrected. And for that to happen, I need to turn these women down.

It’s fine. A man in your position needs to relax when he can. My father has several concubines himself. I understand that people have needs. What kind of selfish woman would I be if I tried to control you?

Well if you’re okay with it, I’m fine too, Calvin thought, walking up to the closer of the pair, who practically flowed into his embrace, gliding to a halt with her body pressed against his, soft and yielding.

“The savior of Mujenan is so much younger than I expected,” She crooned into his ear while the young page left, face flushed.

I wonder if this is Nissa or Henna? Calvin thought as she pulled his hand around until it was resting her hip.

“Nineteen, this June,” Calvin said.

“Remarkable,” The other one said, gliding to his other side. “You must be awfully restless, cooped up in here. Full of pent u­p energy.”

She pressed her chest up against his shoulder as she spoke, her breath tickling his ears.

Calvin knew they were acting, he knew this was their job, but he’d be damned if it didn’t put a bit of a smile on his face.

“Are you hungry my lord? Tired? Sore? Is there anything we could do to make you feel better? Anything at all?”

Dun dun dun dun dun DUN DUN DUN DUN DUN!

Heavy footsteps preceded the door slamming open as Kala burst into the room.

“Hahahah – hurk – !” Calvin laughed at the sight until Kala flashed past him, grabbing him by the collar and tossing him on the bed, damaging his silk shirt with a distinctive riiip.

The next sight he saw was Kala standing directly above him, holding half of his shirt in her fist.

He couldn’t quite see her face from his supine position on the bed, but the view was still pretty engaging.

“Princess Kala!” the women gasped and immediately fell to their knees, all pretense of sensuality lost as they groveled on the ground, their heads touching the carpeted floor.

“Please spare us princess! It was not our intention to anger you!”

“This,” Kala said, pointing down at Calvin, “This is mine!”

Calvin couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, biting down on his hand as the familiar desire to corrupt crested over him.

“Of course, princess, we had no intention of doing anything at all. As a matter of fact, we were just leaving! With your highnesses permission of course!”

“You may leave.” Kala said, waving them away. “And if you see the Marquis Surrak, tell him not to send my husband courtesans without my express permission.”

“Of course,” the ladies said, bowing and walking backwards as they left. Kurawe simply watched from his desk, giving a snort of amusement as they closed the door behind them.

“Without your permission? You say that like there may come a day where you’ll give it.”

“Well,” Kala said, tapping her fingers together. “If one day, I’m…alive again, there may be times where I can’t reach you, and I’m okay with that…but for right now…I think I’d rather you didn’t sleep with them.”

“Oh no,” Calvin said with faux concern. “Without courtesans, However will I relax?”

“I…may have an idea.” Kala said, her gaze hungry as she looked down at him.

Calvin leaned to the side and caught his Kurawe’s eye. “Kurawe, could you take your work out into the hall?” Calvin asked as Kala knelt down on top of him, her skin warm through the fabric between them.

“As you wish, Ravager,” Kurawe said, picking up the hardwood desk and carrying it with him into the hall.

***Several bouts of passionate lovemaking later***

“I have to write a note in my journal.” Calvin said, reaching out to the bedstand and grabbing his notes on his condition.

“What’s that?” Kala said, snuggling into his chest.

“No refractory period.” Calvin said, writing the note down in his booklet.

“Which could be a problem, by the way,” Calvin said, glancing down at the top of her head. “Neither of us need to eat or sleep or breath, so I could see us getting carried away and humping so long we miss appointments.”

“Birthdays.” Kala said.

“Entire weeks.” Calvin expounded.

“Months.”

“Well, definitely not months, because if you’re not alive again by then, your dad’s gonna kill me.”

Kala laughed and hugged him tighter.

“Okay.”

“Okay you’ll let me bring you back?” Calvin asked “Thereby saving my ass from another potential end?”

“Okay, I think you’re actually Calvin, and this isn’t some sick illusion.”

Calvin’s stomach sank, but he patted her on the head anyway. She needed to ‘relax’ more than he did, apparently.

A short while later, the two of them got out of bed and got dressed, Calvin snatching one of the juicier fruits off the cart and biting into it as he invited Kurawe back in.

“I thought you don’t need to eat,” Kala asked, raising a brow.

“I don’t,” Calvin said. “Tastes good though.”

Thank the gods being undead didn’t deaden my sense of taste like it did with my sense of pain. Calvin still enjoyed eating the occasional tasty food, and everything being flavorless mush would be maddening.

Speaking of, Calvin thought, eyeing the bag of candied nuts, snagging them off of the desk as Kurawe dragged it back into the room.

“When we make it back to the March,” Calvin said, opening the bag as he faced the two of them. “I’d like to take a tour of my lands and catch up with everything that’s happened over the last month and a half. I haven’t had a chance to do that at all.”

Calvin started digging around for a candied nut.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the population grow and turn into a real kingdom. I’ve even been toying with this idea where we give the first born child in my territory some kind of prize or plaque.”

Stinging pain assaulted Calvin’s fingertips, and when he drew his hand out of the leather bag, it was on fire, his fingers crumbling into ash.