"-And remember, Assistant, [Potence] enhances your strength, speed, and reflexes, depending on the potency of the blood you've ingested," The Mistress explained. She had me squatting on the floor, poised like a monk from one of those Kung Fu movies. I listened to every single word she said. "It's a little different for the Kindred, like myself. But, for even a Ghoul, like yourself, its use should come naturally. But, remember, the Vitae within you is like a currency; each time you use a Discipline, the Vitae is drained by just the tiniest amount, until it thins and thins and disappears, and you'll need to drink more."
"Try using [Potence] now," The Mistress commanded, nodding my way. "Don't dwell too much on it. The act should be natural for you, like moving a limb or blinking."
"Yes, Mistress," I nodded and, sure enough, just the thought of wanting to activate the discipline, in turn, triggered its activation. And, just like that, I felt a rush of strength and energy and power like never before. Before, I felt like I could lift a motorcycle and hurl it at someone. Now, I felt like I could probably stop a truck. I most likely couldn't, but I sure felt that way. By PRT terms, my Brute Rating just went up four, maybe even five, levels. "This feels amazing."
And it wasn't just physical strength either. I didn't know how to explain it, but it felt as though I was thinking faster, my brain registering and processing information a thousand times faster than what humans should be capable of. Everything felt amazing, like I was standing on top of the world and nothing could pull me down. Right now, I could probably outrun a speeding car if I wanted. This was awesome. It even lasted a full minute, before finally subsiding. Though, I felt that, if I wanted to, I could prolong its effects.
However, I also felt that I'd lost a not so insignificant amount of the Mistress' blood within me. Ten Percent, I realized, the use of [Potence] would cost me ten percent of the Mistress' blood. And the price would get higher and higher the more I tried to prolong its use. So, it'd be good for spur of the moment things, maybe to surprise an enemy or something. But I couldn't rely on it for too long or too much. Still, just having it in my arsenal was freaking amazing. I wouldn't be anywhere near Glory Girl or Alexandria, in terms of punching power, but no gangster is gonna want a piece of me when they see me toss one of them thirty feet into the air, like a ragdoll.
"Good," The Mistress smiled. "[Potence] is the basic discipline, known to all Ghouls and to all the Kindred. Now, what I will teach you next will be much harder, for it is not a discipline that comes to you naturally. Tis called [Fortitude], the hardening of flesh and skin, granting unnatural and inhuman resilience. And, with enough mastery and proficiency, it may even be used to repair damaged flesh and bone."
Oooh, I liked the sound of that. [Potence] I felt, granted me a degree of toughness, but only so far as to survive my own strength and speed, to ensure my body didn't rip itself apart. But [Fortitude], it seemed, would take that into an even higher level.
"Give me both of your hands, Assistant," The Mistress commanded. And so, I followed. Not that I would've given up the chance to actually learn [Fortitude], even if I wasn't mastered through the blood-bond. The Mistress took my hand into hers. "This was how I was taught [Fortitude] by my uncle, Caine, the first of the Kindred. I'm only going to use the most basic form of [Fortitude], known to me as Stone Skin; try to feel the flow of power and, if you can, imitate it. Do not worry, it'll only cost me a few drops of blood to replenish your Vitae."
"I'll do my best, Mistress," I said, nodding as I breathed in. And then, in the next moment, I felt a sharp spike of something, just before the Mistress' pristine pale hands turned into an even darker shade of gray, almost like dark marble or something. I tried squeezing her fingers. I couldn't. It's like her hands had transformed into pale iron stone. I closed my eyes and focused. Feel the flow and rhythm of power... the flow of blood...
Hardness. Stone. Defense. Resilience. Protection. Durability. Life. Preservation. I focused hard on these concepts, willing them forth in my mind's eye, the ultimate goal and purpose. My Mistress' blood flowed through my, flooding through my veins like liquid fire. This was... different from [Potence], a lot different, mostly because it didn't come naturally, like the Mistress said, but had to be coerced out of me. Luckily, I was a pretty quick learner. And so, with the help of the concepts I'd crystallized in my head. And so, when I opened my eyes, I found that my fingers had taken on a brownish-orange hue, like rust or raw iron.
But only fingers.
The Mistress smiled. "You're a quick learner, aren't you?"
The Mistress let go of my hands, which I then brought up closer to my face for an inspection. True enough, my fingers had taken on the texture and hardness of iron. Weird. I thought it'd be closer to stone. The Mistress grabbed my left hand and inspected it as well. "Iron Fingers, a staple of the Gidim-Si Martial Arts, very useful for grappling and poking techniques; it's a precursor to the Adamantine Fingers, much harder to materialize as opposed to stone. Try willing it away and back, Assistant; I wish to see if the Iron Fingers come naturally to you."
I nodded and willed away the texture of iron from my fingers. They disappeared. I also felt that the cost of blood was a mere 2%, unlike [Potence]. Though, the cost would probably increase, the more of my body I used [Fortitude] on, like if I covered both of my arms in iron, for instance. But, I figured I'd figure that out, sooner or later, when I gained greater mastery over this discipline. I focused, once more, on [Fortitude]. And, this time, the iron appeared over my fingers much quicker and smoother. The Mistress nodded. "Very well. It is what it is. But, know this, Assistant, because of your natural inclination towards Iron Fingers, you will find it difficult to learn some of the more complex functions of [Fortitude] in the future."
"Yes, Mistress," I frowned at that. And, suddenly, I didn't like the fact that I started with Iron Fingers, instead of something else. But, hey, this was a power. I didn't have this a few days ago and I was more than thankful for the fact that I had it now. Combined with [Potence], I'd be breaking a lot of things with just my fingers.
Criminals! Beware the Iron Fingerer! No wait, that sounded weird.
Behold! I am the Lady Fingerer!
Huh, that's even worse.
Okay, no hero names just yet. I was gonna have to sit down and figure out something that wasn't weird.
"Of course, all difficulties can be overcome with hard work and perseverance," The Mistress smiled. "Now, I will teach you the Martial Arts of the Gidim-Si. A Ghoul you might be, Assistant, but you still carry my blood and, as such, you must learn the Martial Path of the Heavenly Demon. For now, the basics will suffice. Now, follow my movements! As you are strangely appalled by the idea of violence, Assistant, I shall teach you the Way of Water; that is a branching Martial Art of the Path of the Heavenly Demon that seeks to end violence with the least amount of force necessary. Watch closely and learn."
And so, we went through the motions. As it turned out, the Path of the Heavenly Demon, as the Mistress called her personal Discipline, was further split into five branches: the Way of Water, the Way of Fire, the Way of Metal, the Way of Spirit, and the Way of Death. She didn't bother elaborating on what each branch did, only that the Way of Water was best suited for non-lethal combat. I also agreed with her assessment that I was averse to violence, because I definitely was. I didn't wanna kill people or break every bone in their body, no matter how heinous a crime they might've committed. I wasn't judge, jury, and executioner. No, I wanted to be a hero and that meant working under the code of law. And the law expressly forbade acts of vigilantism.
And the Way of Water was perfect for just that as it made use of joint locks, grapples, throws, and take downs that, more than anything, made use of an assailant's own strength against them. Of course, it was going to hurt, but that was the price they paid for being criminals, I figured. The movements of the Way of Water, unsurprisingly, reminded me of the ebb and flow of the sea, powerful and smooth, adaptable and flexible. And, soon enough, I found myself wholly immersed in the movements that the Mistress and I performed. It was almost like dancing, but with a purpose, each motion imitating the movement of waves or the crashing of the tides upon the shore.
It was meditative, almost, pulling me into a trance from which I did not want to awaken, like a waking dream.
Every movement was natural, fluid, smooth. It felt like I had become the sea itself, my limbs the waves, my soul becoming water. The Mistress shifted her movement, but commanded me to continue moving as she taught me. And so I did. I realized quickly enough that the dance had turned into something like a spar as the Mistress swayed and weaved and moved in ways that almost seemed to mimic the movements of an aggressor, allowing me to see and perceive exactly what I was meant to do. Of course, the Mistress did not attack with full force; if she did, I was pretty sure I'd have been reduced to a bloody smear on the wall. She lowered her strength, instead, to that of an above-average human being, matching me. Some movements, I found, felt smoother when I made use of Iron Fingers, allowing me to harden my fingers into a metal trap that no normal human being could break through, which was perfect for some of the holds and chokes. It was, all things considered, a very surreal way to learn martial arts.
And, through the Way of Water, I was able to absorb, redirect, and disperse just about every attack she sent me.
Except the last one.
An open-palm attack broke through the trance and sent me flying and crashing into the wall. I shook my head, suddenly aware of the fact that I was on the ground. The Mistress loomed over me. "You'll have to forgive me for that, Assistant, but you were about to awaken your First Lower Moon and doing so – as you are now – would've killed you."
I blinked and frowned as I pushed myself up, rubbing my chest as I did. Luckily, the Mistress had used too much force and cracked my ribs. It hurt, but the pain was fading rapidly. But, that was weird, because I thought only Kindred had the nine moons or whatever? "What do you mean, Mistress?"
"You're strong, since you have my blood flowing inside you," The Mistress explained. "But your true physical self is weak. You are, in a term, physically unfit in the literal sense. If I did nothing, then the surge of Qi would've torn you apart. Find a way to physically challenge yourself; surely, there are plenty of weights in this mortal city for you to lift repeatedly? To survive your first awakening, Assistant, you must be, as my blood-sister, Ennoia, used to say, shredded."
"Ah, I guess some things do transcend time," I said, nodding. Yep, I understood the termimmediately. And I also understood why I couldn't be allowed to awaken the First Lower Moon just yet. Not quite in the mood for exploding, honestly. So, I was gonna have to get fit. Weirdly, this would probably be a lot easier without the Mistress's blood, but it'd take longer too. My healing factor meant I'd be able to gain muscle quickly. The cardio part is gonna be a problem, however, as I'd have to run for the whole day to achieve anything worthwhile. Alternatively, I could do burpees with a ton of weights strapped to my back. "I understand, Mistress. I'll do my best to achieve peak physical fitness. There are... weights in the Boat Graveyard that I may be able to make use of. I won't let you down."
"See to it that you don't," The Mistress nodded as she turned and sat back down on the ground, assuming a meditative pose. Now that I thought about it, I had absolutely no idea just how much time we'd spent training. "And, one more thing, Assistant. I need you to do something for me, tonight. My spear – I believe you're acquainted with it; retrieve it for me."
I nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
She then made a tiny cut underneath her wrist, whereupon a single droplet of blood gathered, forming a thick globule. She then raised her forearm. "Drink, Assistant; you've used up quite a bit of Vitae on your training. I would have you perform you task without power."
The droplet fell from the cut on the Mistress's wrist and right into my mouth, a flood of pleasure and energy swelling within me not a moment too soon. Another month's worth of blood was welcome, especially since I'd burned off quite a bit of the Mistress' blood during training, when I made use of Iron Fingers more times than I could remember counting, leaving me with only 50% left. Now, I had about 45 days' worth of blood.
"Thank you for your gift of blood, Mistress," I said, bowing.
She then gestured me away. "Go and accomplish your task, Assistant. Do not return to me, unless you return with my spear in hand. And worry not. Your father shall not find me here."
"Of course, Mistress." I bowed again, before heading back up.
It was probably close to sundown by the time I reached the living room. It was dim, but not dark. The sky outside was of a deep blue, with faint trails of orange sunlight marking the ending of the day. I turned to the clock; it was 5:30 in the afternoon. Dad wouldn't be home for another three hours at least. I turned on all the lights in the house, vacuumed the floor, cleaned the dishes and opened the windows to let some air in. Finally, I got a large pot, filled it with water, and got some dried pasta from the fridge, alongside some store-bought sausage and a can of tomato sauce. I wanted to leave early, but I also wanted to leave dad some dinner before I left, with a note saying that I was tired and went to bed early.
Dad respected my privacy, anyway; so, it'd be fine.
After about an hour of cooking and prepping, I went up my room to begin planning, leaving behind a pot of Spaghetti Bolognese in the kitchen, plus a note telling dad that I was going to sleep early. Perfect.
So, my first act as a cape was to break into a museum and steal- I mean, reclaim a priceless artifact. Yep, this couldn't possibly end badly, right? As far as I recall, the museum was probably still swarming with cops. Considering the lack of bodies, however, as the Mistress very likely ate everything and drank everyone, then I didn't think the cops were going to stay for long. I don't doubt that investigators were probably still combing that area, hoping for any shred of evidence that might point them to something – plus, both Laserdream and Lady Photon surely would've reported the existence of the Mistress, a powerful cape who sent the both of them falling into the ground with but a single word, which meant I could probably expect some level of presence from the PRT or, at least, their own investigators.
So, I had to be reaaaally careful about sneaking into the place.
First of all, I was gonna need a costume, something that would conceal just about every part of me, like a ninja outfit. Why? Because I planned on being a hero and I did not want anyone linking me to any crime whatsoever. Second of all, I had to think about what time I was going to infiltrate the museum, because the cops would probably be largely active early on at night. I doubt they'd be leaving behind a large group of investigators until midnight rolled in. So, maybe I could skulk around the museum around 9:00 pm and just sort of scout the place, look for anything of any particular interest. The exhibits, most likely, would've been moved into storage boxes for safe keeping, but I doubt those storage boxes were anywhere outside the museum.
My second problem was what the heck was I supposed to do if the cops found me or, in the worst possible scenario, a Hero found me and rightly thought that I was a thief. I couldn't disobey the Mistress's orders, but I also didn't want to hurt any of the authorities. I was pretty sure that I could, quite literally, kill a man with a single punch; and I was also equally sure that most of the heroes of either New Wave or the PRT were more than capable of dealing with little Taylor Hebert, unless they got within melee range, during which I could just use the Way of Water.
Not that I was anywhere close to being a master at it, but I was good enough to be confident now – maybe. Or maybe I was just overconfident for no real reason.
Whatever the case, I was going to avoid confrontation as much as possible. My greatest advantage here was my ability to see almost perfectly in pitch darkness. So, just to be safe, I was going to cut the power to that whole city block, just before I sneaked in and reclaimed the Mistress's spear.
Alright, that worked. Now, time to look for all the black clothes I had.
About an hour later, I managed to cobble together an all-black outfit that covered pretty much every inch of skin on my body. I tied up my hair into a bun and wrapped my whole head in a black scarf, leaving only my eyes. When I looked into the mirror, I expected a ninja; instead, I just saw someone who wouldn't look out of place in an Aladdin musical or something, as the scarf I'd wrapped around my head, due to my hair, puffed up enough to resemble a turban. Oh well. This wasn't going to be my permanent costume anyway.
While waiting for the clock to hit 9:00 pm, I did a bunch of exercises with the Way of Water, which, when performed on my own, resembled a very graceful and fluid dance, wherein my whole body mimicked the movement of water.
I stopped as soon as the clock hit 9:00 pm. I heard dad walk in earlier. I also listened to him as he ate the dinner I cooked. It must've been really good, too, because I was pretty sure he ate the whole thing. I felt giddy at that, honestly. But, for now, it was time for ninja Taylor to finally begin her quest to steal the Spear of Destiny... or whatever the Mistress actually called it.
I had a plan. I had the right tools. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
Right?
Haha, Murphy, please stay away from me; I'm just a scared little girl.
I climbed out the window and made my way across the roofs of the houses in the neighborhood, jumping from one to the other. I didn't know any freerunning, but all the physical strength afforded to me as a Ghoul meant I could jump over just about anything I wanted to. Or, in the case of the buildings downtown, climb. And that was exactly what I did once I went beyond the suburbs.
Scaling the nearest building was a lot easier than I thought. I wasn't sure if this was true for every single Ghoul out there or if being the Mistress's Ghoul, in particular, just gave me more benefits than most. Not sure. But I was strong, easily strong enough to pull myself up with only a few movements, scaling up a height of a hundred feet within a few seconds. Brockton, I found, was quite the colorful place from up here. My ears perked up at the screeching wheels and breaks and roaring engines of about a thousand cars all around me. The best part was that I could actually tell apart the sources of the sounds, which meant I probably could, if I really wanted to, chase and torment a random car, become the freerunning figure in every child's passenger-seat daydream.
That'd be funny, but no. Only villains did that.
The museum itself was still several blocks away.
So, I began jumping from one building to the next. I also quickly discovered my maximum leap, without [Potence] bolstering me further, which was around twenty meters if I had a running start and really focused on the strength of my legs. If I didn't focus or had a running start, then I could clear twelve to thirteen meters with some difficulty. And all of this meant I pretty much reached the museum's immediate area in about fifteen minutes, passing by Arcadia on my way there.
I looked down from the edge of an adjacent building. There weren't as many police cars as I expected, honestly. There were only two. Lots of yellow tape, however, barring any civilian from getting in. I counted maybe four police officers, and all of them were inside their vehicles, just chatting with each other to try and pass the time or listening to music. They weren't paying attention to anything. Good. The Merchant Truck, a monster of metal and wheels, was still there, broken and mangled beyond belief, but definitely still there. My eyes narrowed, was that one of Squealer's Killdozers? Still, I took that with a grain of salt because I was only looking at it from one angle.
So, I began circling the museum, searching for anything in particular, jumping from one rooftop to another. Surprisingly, I didn't find anything of note. It almost seemed like the authorities totally abandoned the museum, which was entirely possible, considering that there was probably nothing for them to investigate inside, aside from maybe faint blood trails the Mistress might've left behind, but I doubt that'll lead them anywhere.
I counted two possible entry points for myself. One was the giant gaping hole at the front of the museum, courtesy of the Killdozer. And the other was the emergency exit at the back of the museum, which had apparently been busted open for some reason.
With nothing else to do but wait for the police officers to doze off or distract themselves with something else, I just... sat down and waited.
About thirty minutes later, something completely unrelated to the museum exploded about three blocks away, sending a massive ball of fire shooting into the sky, following by a rain of metal debris. And, just like that, the whole city went into panic. The police officers, most of all, immediately left their posts in front of the museum to deal with the more obvious and important threat. And, as they drove away, I climbed down. I wasn't sure what caused the explosion, but I was definitely thankful for the distraction it caused. Rushing forward, I entered the museum through the ruined entrance, leaping over the jungle of yellow tape as I did, taking great care not to break a single one.
The inside of the museum had even more yellow tape, but now with white, chalky circles on the ground with bloodied clothes inside. I even recognized the desk that I used to sit behind as the clerk. It'd been destroyed entirely and I was pretty sure that was my blood on the ground, dried and crusted. The further I went inwards, the more I saw the level of destruction. Indeed, just about every exhibit, every case, was broken into. There were bullets, bullet casings, and bullet holes everywhere. It was like a walking into a war zone or something.
Whatever the case, I made my way into the locked, personnel only, portion of the museum and walked right in. Like the rest of the place, there were plenty of chalk circles on the ground and yellow tape, all of which I ignored. Yes, everything in here seemed to be in order. The glass cases were in tact and-
Oh no.
I rushed forward, eyes wide, and froze before an empty glass case.
The Mistress's spear wasn't here anymore.
"Oh boy." I muttered. "Not good."
In its place was a single piece of paper, a note, which read:
To whomever it may concern,
You may find us in the place where the deranged gather and the sane are unwelcome.