Imagine, for a moment, the darkest secret you have. Something that haunts you, lingers in the forefront of your mind like an incomplete shadow. It should be something you are desperately afraid of, something you’ve managed to live with by shoving it as far down and deep as possible.

You know the one.

Now imagine that your hand has been forced, and you’re now required to reveal that secret in front of everyone you care for. Despite knowing how their opinion will change, imagining the looks on their faces.

That was how it felt, summoning the lithid. Like fighting through a wave of never-ending shame, reaching the bottom and somehow finding more.

A swirling gray mass of orange and black exploded before me, wind pressure pounding against my armor and knocking me to the ground. The second floor’s serene blue sky filled with clouds, a spiraling wind funnel descending to the summon’s point of origin.

”It shouldn’t be able to attack!” Talia shouted in my mind.

”I don’t think it is. Doesn’t make sense with how high its bond started. ” I responded in the same manner, our surrounding environment far too tumultuous for anything more than telekinetic communication. As if to directly contradict me, the wind picked up speed, rampant gusts competing to lift me off the ground.

I looped my arm around an upraised root, anchoring myself to a nearby tree.

”Release it before it’s too late!” Talia said, her panic ringing clear.

”If it gets worse. Just hold on a little longer.”

When I looked back towards Talia, I saw her clinging to the tree beside me vertically like a squirrel, shooting daggers in my direction. Her claws were dug deeply into the tree, but she was clearly slipping. The wind grew even more intense and one paw came free.

I mentally prepared to release the summon.

Then the wind died. An eerie silence fell over the clearing.

A shadow fell over me, and I looked up.

Less than a foot away, a silhouetted figure towered over me. Where it had once reminded me of viscous motor oil before, its skin was tinted dark blue, its reflective aspect of now bringing to mind a dark ocean, or a moonlit night.

Slowly, it raised a hand and waved. “Hi.”

Hi?

The panic in my mind slowly eased as I shifted to my feet, studying the summoned version of the lithid carefully. It had no facial features to speak of, and the silhouette didn’t register as female, as it had before. It read more androgynous than anything else, its voice equally in-between. Strangely enough, it sounded nervous.

“Talia,” I called back, refusing to look away from the lithid for even a moment. “You good?”

“Apart from the several nails I left behind in the tree? Yes.” Talia sounded genuinely annoyed at the loss.

“I’ll resummon you later.” Subconsciously, I straightened my back. As petty as it sounds, I didn’t like that the lithid was taller than me.

Suddenly, it shifted form, legs and torso shortening until it stood half a head below me.

My eyes narrowed.

Now that I was looking for it, I could feel a subtle vibration from

“You are welcome to try. It would take you a long time to learn in your current state and require significantly more mana than you possess.” The lithid’s statement was oddly candid, stating the reality without rubbing it in.

I waved it off. “That’s not—“ I stopped. It should have known that wasn’t what I was trying to achieve. “You stopped reading my mind?”

“I sensed you didn’t like it.” The lithid inclined its head towards Talia. “She doesn’t either, but as she’s also fantasizing about eating me, turnabout is fair play.”

“That’s a lie.” Talia snarled.

Still, this level of cooperation wasn’t what I expected.

“Can you isolate how deeply you look?” I asked.

“Yes.” The lithid confirmed.

“Read my surface thoughts again.”

I braced myself and turned my focus inward. Now that I was looking for it, the intrusion felt like a whisper, a tiny spectator lodged in the depths of my mind. When I felt confident that I could detect it again, I told the Lithid to sever its connection with Talia and me, and the feeling of being watched receded.

There was an underlying sense of anticipation as it leaned closer.

“Well, you already know why we’re here.” I leaned slightly away.

The tiny spectator popped into the back of my mind again.

”No.” I scolded. The spectator receded immediately, and the lithid huffed in frustration.

“How am I meant to respond correctly when I don’t know someone’s motivation?” It whined.

“The same way as every other being.” Talia growled. She crossed over in front of me as she had during the battle, acting as a shield. “You guess.”

“Start by explaining why you seem entirely different from before.” I added.

“Oh!” The lithid smiled. Or at least, I think it smiled, from the way its gelatinous cheeks seemed to stretch. “Because I’m not hungry anymore. It’s very nice. Before I was a summon, I was starving constantly.”

Talia and I looked at each other. I studied the lithid warily. “You’re not hungry now?”

“No. Well, I could eat. But it isn’t remotely the same.”

“For suffering.” Talia said flatly.

“Not just suffering. Catharsis tastes far better and tends to be better for the host. But it’s harder to achieve, and most hosts break long before we can get to that point.” The lithid shifted from side to side, and shot me a series of nervous glances.

I sighed. “What?”

“Just, I’d love to know what you thought of my work.”

“Your… work?”

The lithid nodded vigorously. “It was more… mean-spirited than it needed to be, perhaps. Because of the hunger. But I was very proud of it. It was some of my best, I think. Pathos coupled with self-realization and growth. I really let the muse run wild.”

The verbiage and persona suddenly clicked.

I felt the vein in my forehead begin to pulse. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Talia glanced between us, unsure of what she was messing.

“It’s an artist.”

“Aw.” The lithid approached me. When I held out a hand to stop it, it settled for hugging itself excitedly. “It means the world hearing that from you!”

“I’m lost,” Talia said dumbly, unknowingly cutting off my scathing retort.

“Explain it to Talia.” I stepped aside, not trusting myself to refrain from throttling the creature.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the lithid crouched down in front of Talia’s face, planting its hands on its knees. “Ah. Right, a wolf wouldn’t have a lot of experience in that regard.”

“Don’t talk down to me, wretch—“

“Art is a living being’s attempt to imitate the objects and events of life. The audience—or rather, those witnessing the art can experience a variety of emotions and feelings through the eye of the artist. However, some emotions have to be earned. We cannot, for example, simply be told the protagonist is victorious. We have to see them struggle to attain that victory, feel empathy for their pain, to truly feel the magnitude of the victory once they overcome it.”

A wave of irritation washed over me.

What an asshole.

It took Talia a second to get it. When she did, her lips pulled back, and she unleashed a full-throated growl, taking a threatening step towards the lithid. “You used my pain, my tragedy, as fodder for your art?”

“I did my best, considering the source material.” The lithid shrugged, oblivious to the growing anger of the wolf. “It’s difficult to draw water from a stone. The system didn’t give you much of a backstory. “The mother who outlives her children” trope is so cliché.

Talia dove forward, claws outstretched, snapping and snarling as the lithid danced around her, shouting in surprise. It dodged around the clearing, swearing loudly as Talia pursued it. Talia was faster, but the lithid was more mobile, creating a chase that looked very much like a matador evading a bull.

It’d be wise to stop it. And I would.

In a moment.

It was easy enough to fill in the blanks. Most lithids probably started out similar to this one. More symbiotic guides than parasites, looking to draw from the release that came from a deep emotional revelation. But when the host died, they turned nastier over time, drawing nourishment from suffering instead, gearing their delusions towards it. As much as I wanted to believe the lithid was deceiving us, it wasn’t. If it was trying to ingratiate itself, it was doing a terrible job. Of course, it could know that and be playing it against the grain to achieve the same ends, but I suspected that wasn’t the case.

Because I was pretty sure I knew why our bond was so high. Why it was so pleased with my recognition, and delighted to see me, even when the hunger was twisting our perceptions. Something Talia said echoed in my mind.

“Enough. Both of you.” I said, putting plenty of authority in my voice. The two of them stopped next to the lake, still staring each other down.

“Lithid.” I called. It returned to me, glancing backward at Talia as it walked, nearly stumbling over the same root I’d clung to when I’d summoned it.

“She is completely unreasonable.” The lithid huffed. It cocked its head at me. “Have you made your decision?”

“Not yet. I still have several questions.”

“Ask away.” It seemed pleased to be interrogated, somehow.

I held out a finger. “How much of the abilities you displayed have you retained?”

“In a realm of flauros, most of them.” The lithid confirmed. “Simple manipulation and cerebral deep dives are easy enough to perform on the fly. I can possess simple minds easily and use the host as a weapon. Sapient minds are more difficult, scaling to a significant degree contingent on the host’s intelligence. The more in-depth hallucinations take a significant amount of preparation, as does detailed duplication of a particular being.”

I raised an eyebrow. I’d expected its abilities to be somewhat nerfed, but this made it an incredible asset within a dungeon or similar analogue.

“Outside a realm of flauros?” I asked.

“This is just my guess, as I’ve never existed outside a realm. But I should still be able to perform surface level mind-reads and possess less powerful, non-sapient hosts.”

When I thought of Ellison, my mind ticked over a dangerous possibility. “Could you use a duplicate form on the outside?”

“I’m not certain.” The lithid mused. “It’s unlikely I’d be able to retain the form for a significant length of time. Slightly longer if the host was willing—possession will work similarly.”

After processing as much of that as I could, saving the more outlandish ideas for when I had time for more detailed theory crafting.

I ran a hand through my hair. “Before, you said you were a little hungry. I’m concerned about that. It may have been reset for the moment, with your death and resurrection, but what’s to stop it from getting to the point it affects your personality.”

“Totally reasonable,” the lithid said in a schmoozing tone that grated. “I don’t remember much from when I was born, but I do remember the hunger. It was far worse than it is now, and if I do get hungry… Well…”

“Spit it out.” I barked.

It put two fingers together in an oddly childish gesture. “If you could just… let me dwell within something or someone you’re about to kill, that would satisfy me immensely.” The lithid said shyly.

I stared at it in horror. Talia made a gagging noise.

“If that’s too much—“

Slowly, I put a hand over my face. “No no, why not? You can eat their suffering, then Audrey can devour the corpse! The buffet is stocked for everyone’s dietary needs!”

“I’ve upset you.” The lithid realized glumly.

“Leaving that… disquieting…. request alone for a moment,” Talia said, “The mechanics interest me. You can dwell within someone without possessing them? In the outside world as well?”

“Of course.” The lithid said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“And they would remain unaware of that?” Talia pressed.

“It’s very unintrusive.” The lithid confirmed.

Picking up on what Talia was driving at, I felt a small surge of anticipation. “And you’d be able to hear what they’re saying?”

The lithid suddenly clapped its hands together, making us both jump. “Oh! Yes, I’d be an excellent spy.”

“Are you male or female?” I asked suddenly. Talia gave me a questionable look, and I shrugged. It had been rattling around in my head for a while, and referring to human-esque creature as “it,” felt degrading, somehow.

“Both. Neither.” The lithid placed a hand under its chin. “Though I really ought to be male, considering.”

“Considering what?” I asked dryly, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“Well, you already have a female summon. The plant is both, but looks and sounds feminine. Add another female to the roster and people might start getting the wrong impression.”

“She’s a wolf!” I exclaimed.

“He’s a human!” Talia said simultaneously, equally put off.

The lithid shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. They’ll still talk.”

“If anyone knows about all three of you at any given time, we’d have far more serious problems.” I argued, feeling stupid for how heated I felt.

“Judging from the memories I looked through, a few gods know already. And while the majority are complete degenerates, they’ve come a long way from the wild days. Wouldn’t want to screw yourself out of a boon or favor due to an optics issue.”

“Jesus. Just be whatever you want.”

“Male.” The lithid confirmed. Its form shifted to reflect the change. Its body was slim but muscular, a figure suspiciously similar to my own.

“Talia?” I prompted her.

Talia stared at the lithid with distaste. “As much as I’d like to say otherwise, he is too valuable to turn down.”

The lithid hopped up and down in excitement. “Then, I’m in?”

“Not quite.” I studied him, dreading giving the question voice. “Our bond is exorbitantly high. Audrey started at one, Talia at zero. I need to know why our bond in particular is so elevated.”

“Oh.” The lithid shrunk back. “I was going to wait and address that when the time was right. I can’t tell you later?”

“Now or never.” I reiterated.

“Before I say anything,” The lithid hedged, “bear in mind I have a solution for your geas issue.”

That got my attention immediately. “And?”

“I’ll tell you when the time comes.” The lithid bowed his head apologetically.

I grit my teeth. “Fine. Keep your leverage. Now answer my question.”

“The system didn’t force me to admire you, or instill loyalty. In truth, I’ve been waiting to meet you for a long time. But I am, in some ways, a slave to my nature. You had to run the gauntlet first. Even though you… well… you made me.” The lithid was the very picture of anxiety, his arms held close to his body, shuffling from foot to foot as he waited for my response.

Foul creatures sustained by hate and regret, formed in the void between worlds when a sapient being commits the unforgivable.

There were plenty of things I wanted to ask about, but I wasn’t sure I could handle the answers. I breathed out, as the small part of me that still argued for banishing the lithid withered and died.

“Pick a name. We have shit to do.”