The spryte shrugged.
“I’m not sure how much I can enlighten you,” she said. “My memory is hazy. Each time I lose myself and come back, it takes a while for the amnesia to wear off.”
“Amnesia…?” Malcolm frowned at her. “So sprytes and demons… don’t have memories?”
“I remember a few things,” said the spryte. “Not much.”
“Your name?”
The spryte frowned.
“It was Rose, I think,” she said. “Black Rose. Though I’m not sure if that was my actual name, or just my champion name, or what.”
Malcolm nodded, and then froze, realizing the implications of what she’d just said.
“Your… champion name?” he asked. “You were a champion? Before you became a spryte?”
“Of course,” said Rose. “All sprytes and demons were once champions, or at least gifted. It’s using your powers, overusing them to be precise, that turns you into one.”
The surprise must have shown through on his face. Rose smiled and licked her lips, clearly amused.
“Wow, they really didn’t explain much to you, did they?” she said.
“Hold on,” said Malcolm, lifting a hand. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why wouldn’t the other champions have told me that? They said that sprytes and demons were corrupted from the beginning, from immediately when they got their gift.”
“Yeah, the optics of it is a lot better for the Champion Authority,” said Rose. “That’s not to say that there weren’t sprytes and demons from Day One, after the Phenomenon. A certain percentage of people, particularly ones with uncontrollable powers, turned into ‘monsters’ really quickly.”
“But I’m part of the Champion Authority…” Malcolm frowned, feeling a bit odd, saying it out loud. “It seems strange that they wouldn’t tell me this.”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” said Rose. “But honestly, stop and think of how much fear it would breed among normal people if they knew that the champions fighting against evil in the world were only a few steps away from turning into monsters.”
Malcolm didn’t say anything. He sat down on the bed and let out a slow breath.
Easy. You can’t necessarily trust everything she’s telling you.
“Okay, so if you were a champion before,” said Malcolm. “Then how did you end up becoming a spryte?”
Rose brought a hand up to her head. She looked as though she was carefully considering his question, trying to find an answer.
“From using my powers too much,” she said. “Beyond that… I don’t know, exactly. There’s so much I can’t remember, even when I’m at my best. Most of the details that have stuck with me are the ones critical to my survival. Speaking of which…”
She pointed at him. Malcolm furrowed his brow, confused. She tapped a hand against her wrist.
“That bracelet thing,” she said. “What’s it called, again?”
“The stabilizer?”
“Yeah,” said Rose, nodding. “It has a bomb in it.”
Malcolm felt a chill run down his back. He reached his other hand over to touch the stabilizer and then stopped, as though now even touching it might be enough to get him killed.
“That’s… insane,” he said.
“It also has a homing beacon, along with technology to keep your mood stable when you use your powers,” said Rose. “That’s more commonly known among champions, however. You haven’t been a member of the authority for long, have you?”
“I just got my powers today,” said Malcolm.
Rose burst out laughing. She saw the expression on his face after a second or two and stopped, stepping in closer to him and looking a little guilty.
“Sorry,” she said. “But seriously, wow. Some first day, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said.
The stabilizer is a means of keeping control… If champions really can turn into monsters, it makes sense.
Malcolm felt overwhelmed by the information. He looked up at Rose. Her eyes were sympathetic, but Malcolm felt a sudden stab of suspicion toward her.
“No, hold on,” he said. “You don’t have any proof to back up any of this. What’s to stop you from lying to me outright? It’s life or death, like you said. I’m a champion.”
“Right…” Rose waved a hand through the air lazily, and the shadow tendrils were suddenly holding Malcolm again, with the addition of a thick bond around his neck. It felt a bit like what he imagined being strangled by a boa constrictor would feel, except colder. “Quite the champion you are, mister…?”
“Malcolm,” he said. “Or, uh… Wind Runner is my champion name.”
“I like Malcolm better,” said Rose. She let her hand drop, and the tendrils disappeared.
He wasn’t sure what to say to her, or how to respond. She’d made her point clear enough. If she was lying to him, it wasn’t in an attempt to save her own life. And the fact that she hadn’t killed him, when she clearly could if she wanted to, also counted for something.
“Rose,” he said. “What do you want? I saved you from those men, but… it’s not like I’ve trapped you here, or anything. I thought sprytes and demons were supposed to be violent and out of control?”
“Some of them are,” said Rose. “That’s just how it is with any person, though. I’m not really like that. Killing, causing destruction… it’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?”
Rose sighed. She was smiling, but her eyes were sad.
“To not feel so fucking empty all the time, I guess,” she said. “To not have to run for my life anymore. Even as a spryte, I still sometimes I dream about settling down, getting married, living a normal life. But I think that ship has sailed.”
Malcolm stared at her, completely bewildered by her response. He forced himself to keep a level head as he considered the situation, which still hadn’t changed.
She’s a spryte, and it is possible that she might still be lying. I can’t trust her.
He knew that it was true, but his suspicion didn’t stop him from feeling slightly awed by her presence. She was gorgeous and smart, and he’d just had amazing sex with her. And yet, she was a spryte.
They were generally considered to be a step up from demons, less violent, usually with more benign powers, though still unpredictable and wild. Sprytes generally had skin of an uncommon color, ranging the full color spectrum, but none of the physical differences to the face and head common to demons.
Malcolm wondered if perhaps the differences were more pronounced than he’d originally assumed. The Champion Authority had never made much of a distinction between the two forms of monsters, and up until that moment, neither had he.
“Do you know other sprytes?” asked Malcolm, suddenly curious. “Or other… demons?”
Rose considered for a moment, and then gave a slow nod.
“I’m familiar with a few, yes,” she said. “At least, I think? It’s a little fuzzy, but I get the sense that there are more in the area than just me.”
Malcolm felt a small surge of hope, tinted by the anger he’d been holding onto for so long.
“Can you try to remember?” he asked. “Do you know anything about one with fire based powers? Or possibly explosion abilities? Something that could completely level a house, and just leave a… smoking crater.”
Rose tapped a finger against her lips, and then shook her head.
“I could help you, Malcolm,” she said. “But I also need your help.”
“My help?”
“I can’t travel effectively during the day,” said Rose. “When I lost myself to my powers and became a spryte, well, you can see what happened to my skin, and my eyes. It’s very hard to cover myself up enough to pass as a normal human, and I can’t use my powers very well when exposed to strong light sources.”
“Is that what happened tonight?” asked Malcolm.
“It’s… hard to remember,” she said. “When it’s been a while since I’ve engaged in my focus activity, I start to lose track of who I am. My point is… I could really use a place to stay. Just for a few days, while I regain my strength.”