"As the story goes, there was a medium-sized town that had built up a thriving trade based on some natural magics in the area around them that made it easier to tame and domesticate wild creatures. Crypto or animal, if they could catch it, or if they could keep a few generations in captivity, then they could tame it."

  "Obviously, that meant wealth. They could sell scales and venom samples that most people would, literally, die to get. But with wealth comes attention. They caught the eye of a wandering demigod. And not a wander-and-make-trouble kind. A camp-and-build-an-empire kind. And, with demigods, come more demigods."

  The three men in the room nodded.

  "Like a hoard of flies to shit," Jasque muttered, his eyes dark.

  "Yeah. She took over the village and began making changes. There were killings, like there always are. And there were curses, like there usually are. But they settled into a rhythm and started to expand. Which meant that other Demigods started coming in and trying to ruin things."

  Frost shook his head and poured himself another drink. For people like he and Shiloh, this sort of story was old hat. Demigods were hard to kill, but were almost constitutionally incapable of letting another of their plans pass by without trying to sabotage each other. Their lives were just too important, though, so they usually came at each other through proxy to make their deaths even less likely.

  "The town went to hell?" Frost asked.

  "The town went to hell."

  With a wave of his hand, the older man motioned them all to take seats.

  With relief, Shilloh settled in. "So, the abridged version of the story says that so many demigods came in trying to ruin the town and each other, that they formed a sort of Court of Assholes. While they vied for power and possession of the best castles, the people suffered. A particularly charismatic crypto rehabilitation expert started collecting venoms, poisons, and other ways to kill the Demigods. This guy was one of those people who actually loves people. Who could talk to anyone, remember everyone's names, and make you believe in hope. He gathered up a core of saboteurs and orchestrated a mass poisoning."

  "Obviously, they failed. And the entire court of asshole fell on the leader and made a game of who could give him the worst curse. That was the first and worst Cernun Boghe. But, it left such a legacy of fear that a new one would be made every few generations to make a point."

  Frost steepled his fingers and leaned forward. "And that contributes to Wade's situation?"

  "Yes. It's how the curse works and adds to the horror. And make no mistake, the horror is the entire purpose. This is a tool of terror. The first generation Cernun Boghe has their body changed, and a stupid number of curses layered over them. The change itself can take days or weeks. So, all magic we associate with Cernun Boghe comes from that curse."

  "But how do you know that?" Jasque asked.

  "Because there are records of people's wild talents or mage gifts surviving into the new body. It made the creature a more dangerous threat, and some people in the area who had offended demigods would start voluntarily killing or assisting in the suicide of their most magically powerful friends. It was better than a Cernun Boghe who could make clones."

  "Son of a succubus," Wade whispered. "They were that bad?"

  Shilloh blew a puff of air out of her mouth and leaned back. "Yeah. The monstrous humanoid body with a skull-like head and antlers was the mildest part of the curse. The creature would leave a magical stench on any area it had traveled through within the last few days or sometimes weeks. It was a weak form of claiming territory," she said, nodding to Wade. "They could sense anything in their territory. And anything sapient would cause them mental and spiritual agony. The more self-aware the intruding creature, the worse."

  "So the weak-willed ended up policing a territory and killing everyone who entered," Jasque said, voice flat and uncaring.

  "No," She lifted a finger. "Not the weak-willed. Everyone. See the Cernun Boghe eventually lose all the territory behind them. Their claiming only lasts so long. But the smaller the territory is, the weaker they become. They also lose more and more sapience and are hit by a progressively building magical terror that eventually results in the weakened animal fleeing, gaining power, and recovering human memory after a slaughter."

  Jasque narrowed his eyes, "If people kept their wild talent, then some must have had an ability that kept their minds. Especially if they just ran a loop to maintain their territory."

  "Maybe the wild talent would help. But within a few hours—just long enough to have an unfulfilling night's sleep— their territory becomes anathema to them. I'm not sure if it's mental, physical ejection, or damage to their body. Still, a Cernun Boghe cannot step on ground that is already theirs without it seriously hurting them. Another part of the curse was that skull head I mentioned. See, Cernun Boghe can't eat unless they're fighting with the intent to kill or have just recently killed something. The skull slowly closed its mouth over their actual lips. But, as soon as they started fighting with the intention to kill, their mouths would open so they could use the fangs. After that, they have a little bit of time to eat and drink before the mouth closes."

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  Frost had crossed his arms and was leaning back in his chair, staring at the carpet with a resigned anger. Jasque was looking at her with continued suspicion, and Wade just looked horrified.

  "Yeah. I think you get the picture. Very few demigods were given the ability to do this, but it was inordinately effective. The terror was insane. Someone is put in a body that is under a deity's worth of curses. And these bodies are tough. Just incredibly durable and hard to kill. Not quite at the level of magical regeneration, but more than any peasant with a spear can handle. And, worse, the body has instincts that take over if it gets too close to death. This person can never get a full night's sleep. And as they run, they claim more temporary territory, their body gets more power that can be used for killing, and their mind grows clearer. Hell, sometimes they even end up being smarter than they were before."

  "How can you know that?" Jasque asked.

  She met his eyes. "Some Cernun Boghe would kill animals or people and then have enough sapience to talk. To beg, before the mouth started closing, and they were forced to move."

  He didn't respond, so she kept talking. "They get smarter, stronger, more capable. But they also start getting hungrier, thirstier, and more tired. So they run harder to keep their wills strong and everyone alive. But, the more territory they have, the more potential prey they can sense to eat, and the more likely it is for a human to wander through and become an ember pressed against their soul."

  "They end up eating raw meat?" Wade asked.

  She shook her head. "The mouth only opens when they fight. No hunting, just fighting. The only things they can eat are sapients, or creatures strong enough to put up a fight."

  "So," she said, continuing the thread. "Unless they are willing to get hurt in a fight, they keep running. Their bodies weaken from hunger and thirst. They run slower. They start losing their faculties, and the fear that something is coming builds. One way or another, they get dumb, or starved, or afraid, and they either pick a dangerous fight, or a person walks into their territory and sets them off when they're more beast than person. They eat, and they sprint to drink as much as they can. And they get drowsy as their meal is digested. Give it a few hours, and they are forced to start running to escape the radius of the territory they claimed."

  Frost finally spoke up, "What about the later generations?"

  "Ahh," Shilloh said. "Yes. That's the other part of the curse. Cernun Boghe are empaths." Everyone but Jasque winced. "And the curse amplifies any sexual arousal they perceive. Which is an issue, because they are, well, biologically compatible with most creatures. In terms of viable offspring, I mean."

  "What the fuck," Wade said. Rubbing his eyes. "Isn't that just excessive?"

  Frost rubbed his face. "I rather think that's the point."

  "Yeah," Shilloh said, trying not to think too hard about it. "And as a final bit of salt not he wound, these second, or even third generation Cernun Boghe always adore their progenitor. They never get much smarter than a clever dog or an ape. Still, they are loving, loyal, never set off the progenitors' territory senses, and are excellent at mimicking complex sounds. I don't think I need to explain the point, right? Almost a real child, almost conversation, almost companionship and family."

  "Yes. Please, go on."

  "Alright. So, just a bit before the young Cernun Boghe reaches a stage of maturity that would make them capable of safely surviving on their own, it starts causing pain when it's in the progenitor's territory. At the same time, the second generation begins to claim its own territory, forcibly diminishing its parents' sapience. The Cernun Boghe is forced to chase off or flee their children, or pets, or whatever you want to call them, leaving them to a probable death by malnutrition. And the later generations never stop loving their progenitors or wanting to be around them, assuming they survive. They'll follow any Cernun Boghe who crosses their paths."

  "So the core of your claim," Jasque said, tapping his feet impatiently, "is that you somehow sensed that Wade's alternate form is a biological first-generation Cernun Boghe. Which means, without the curse giving the strength-enhancing magic, it's nothing but a sturdy body with strong survival instincts and no inherent magic?"

  "That's my guess."

  "This is ridiculous!" the Slayer said, bursting to his feet. "We are operating on half-remembered, third-hand information that might determine if one of our most powerful assets will push himself into a murderous insanity or an early grave in the very best scenario. Why are we even listening to this?"

  "We need to know," Frost said, coming to his own feet and speaking in a calm voice.

  "Why? There is literally no way that Wade Shifting will ever make him meaningfully better at his work. He never needs to shift, and he will always need a bodyguard. Nothing will change even if this is true."

  Frost frowned before speaking softly. "Jasque, we could save Wade from a lifetime, maybe several lifetimes, or trauma and fear. It would make all the difference in the world to Wade if he didn't have to live his entire life waiting for degenerative mental disease."

  The Slayer pointed at her but kept his eyes on Frost, "I agree, but here's the thing. She won't let that happen. Not in any acceptable way. I've already tried to review the memory recording of his shift. It has been terribly degraded over time and damn-near indecipherable. There is only one way the dryad will be able to check, isn't that right?"

  Both men turned to her. "Isn't that right?"

  "You're going to try and tell us that Wade needs to Shift so we can see if he's first or second generation, aren't you?"

  At the word shift, Wade went pale, and all three pairs of eyes turned to her.

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