I was disembodied. More lazy cloud of smoke than anything substantial. Darkly being in a field of absolute darkness, I was enjoying being nothing until something even darker came and moved around me with feline grace.
I recognized the entity immediately. “… Malphas.”
“Black Jack.” There was nothing corvid about him this time. Instead he gave off that vibe of a lithe and adorable cat showing affection because he intends on ripping out your throat later for no other reason than you’re his favorite toy.
Feline grace segued into serpentine circling. “Quite the adventure you have been having lately. Interesting how they are all intertwined in the end, don’t you think? They have all tied like knots around your fingers.”
“… Mm-hmm.” I noted how his circling was kneading me into a tighter ball of smoke. I diffused myself instead, leaking out from between twisting cords.
“Careful. Your mistrust is announcing itself.”
“I’ve been dragged through some shit these past few days. But I’m not running. I’m still here.”
“You are.”
“So… no context for who, or what, you really are?”
“None you are willing to look up.”
“Willing or capable? I’m going to need five years and six digits to have a proper education of the grimoire tradition that my bastard understanding of led me to calling you Malphas. That’s not going to happen anytime soon. And frankly, I’m a little bit pissed at the subterfuge, even as I understand why it had to be done to get my attention and involvement.”
“You have [resource].”
“Wrong context and I am not the target audience. Just a mongrel snatching up scraps that smell relevant.”
“Then expand your definition of relevance and choose resources with greater potential context.”
He allowed me to flow out of his coiled grip, though at the end there was some wisp of me that was dense enough to hold. I’m not sure if the slow release of that piece was deliberate to show me that even in this nebulous form, he could still seize me at will, or a reluctant release now that I was watching his actions carefully.
“Not even one clue, you bastard?”
“Ah. Insults of familiarity. Glad to see you coming back around. Very well then, I shall reward your tenacity with a reminder. How did you come to identify me as Malphas? I told you to. I gave you the flash vision of thirty-six black crows and used that number to announce myself every time I came to you. I whispered it so only your subconscious could hear and took advantage of your limited knowledge to lead you to the only conclusion your ego would accept on such short notice. I did not allow you to consider if I were anyone, or anything else but… Malphas. Your homework, dear mortal, is determine why.”
By this point the cloud that was me had completely encircled the cloud that was him. So I thought. His small cloud dissipated allowing my attention to look “away” from myself.
I had been in his grip the entire time, engulfed by a massive supercloud of his will in a way that amoebas would find impressive.
He had used the smaller inner cloud to seize my focus and keep me distracted.
This too, was an important lesson. One I will have to reflect on after the Prey’s Panic leaves me.