19 October 2005
Akshainie dove over Benedict's arm as his fist drove into the earth, then quickly wound around his ankles and popped up on his other side, delivering a quick pair of punches to his jaw before he was able to bring his hand back around. He stumbled, tripped over her tail, and fell backward into the grass as Akshainie threw herself over him and whipped him in the face with the end of her tail for good measure. He grunted and rolled over, catching his breath with his knees and fists on the ground.
"You're getting faster in this form," she said, slithering over and applying some ointment from a pouch on her side to her fists.
"Doesn't feel much faster," he grumbled. "Besides, I don't exactly plan on using this form once we leave here."
"What a shame, to hide a face like that just because it isn't traditionally human," she said with a smirk. She coiled her lower body around herself and began applying the ointment to the end of her tail. "But that's not the whole point."
"Oh?" he asked, pushing himself into a seated position. "And what is?"
"You don't know how to be a fighter and a spirit at the same time. You can punch, and you can use your gifts, but you insist on switching between them instead of seeing yourself as one person who has them all available all the time."
"I don't exactly have all the benefits of my demonic form when I'm in human form."
"But you have some, and I bet if you tried to embrace your nature you could have more." He let out a low, slow breath as he rubbed his jaw.
"You want me to, what, just be fine with demonic influence?"
"I want you to accept that you are what you are and make the best of it. I don't care what you think about demons in general. We're going against a force that will use all the powers you refuse to, and better than you can if you don't practice them, and your stories about them sound like they're very good at turning self-loathing to their advantage. If you insist on feeling bad about being imperfect in the eyes of your dad you will lose this fight." Her body slowly uncoiled as her torso lifted into the air, putting her eyes at the same level of his where he sat. She pointed at him as she continued. "And I'm not letting you take me down with you." He stared at her for a second, then groaned as he rested his hand on his knee and pushed himself back up to standing.
"One thing at a time. Ready?"
"Always," she said, smiling, as she dove forward.
Evidence compiled for use during the trial of Father Benedict de Monte.