Eater

“...that was a **** eater.” The ring answers, as though that explains anything.

“I'm not yet familiar with your brand of magic…” you roll your eyes.

“Ah, right,” the ring considers, "It's a healing spell, designed to bring someone back from the brink of ****, get them stable, keep them stable… and stop there. As long as nothing else kills him, he's going to survive, provided he didn't smash his brain open on landing.” Another pause, “looks like you got a good hundred fifty yards there. Pretty good for that awkward throwing angle.”

You can't seem to bring yourself to care… “Why?”

“Because most law enforcement takes dead people a lot more seriously than injured ones.” The ring takes a breath, “had you specifically wanted him dead, I would have used a door opener.”

“Door opener on a body?” You ask. You are feeling mild curiosity, some confusion… but no care?

“A spell designed to open a door in a reinforced wall, and make it big enough to drive a truck through,” the ring chuckles, “can get rid of a body, no problem.”

“I see, so I'm carrying around a bag full of explosives,” you pause as you get up, grabbing your purse, “why doesn't any of this bother me?”

“INERT explosives. They don't do anything until charged. And... compassion, empathy, and several other emotions are a function of the soul, and yours is numb right now,” the ring pauses, “It's why I asked what your intent wa with the **** before I put you under, and as I said: Do not make any major decisions right now, you will absolutely feel differently about them later. You should be okay to drive, though.”

“Why's that…” you trail off as the RV pulls up. Looks like a full Class A, with pull outs… “Right.”

You consider, “Eh, I'd just be doing things for you anyway, so… you want to drive?”

“Sure…” your mouth answers as a young man gets out of the RV.

“Ah… Alice Abrams?” He stares at your chest and gulps.

“That's me. Where do I sign?” The ring asks with your body, walking up to him, the feel of your bare feet on the pavement reminding you that you're currently nude. That seems like it should matter, but you're having trouble figuring out why at the moment.

“Here please… ma'am…” the delivery driver rasps out, holding out a phone and a touchscreen pen.

“Thank you,” your body answers, grabs the offered items, scrolls quickly through the text, nods, and signs. Doesn't match your signature, but you suppose that only matters if someone challenges it.

The man running your body is all business as he takes the keys, heads into the rig, and does a quick tour of the forty foot machine. Driver and passenger seats, well padded, with a good view of the road and some electronics in the dash up front; kitchen area with a stove, oven, microwave, fridge, freezer, cabinets, and sink; dining area with a table; living area with a couch and a couple recliners; bathroom with sink, toilet, and enclosed shower; queen sized bed in the master bedroom; and… a ten foot long segment where everything is metal, save for a big plastic tool chest built into one of the walls?

“What's up with this section?” You ask the current driver of your body.

‘It's a garage,’ your body guest answers, ‘It's intended for a motorcycle or two, maybe a little quad instead. The back opens down and becomes a ramp. I'm going to use it as a workroom for projects that need a bit more space, once I'm done working on the rig itself.’

“What do you plan to do with the RV?” You're mildly curious, but that's all. You just can't bring yourself to care much right now.

‘Lots of things,’ he shrugs in your body as he heads to the driver's seat, ‘Convert it over to run on mana. Replace the engine and generator, update the tank, install a recycler setup in the water systems, add full spec environmental controls…’

“But it already has heating and AC…” you're a little confused as he starts it up.

“That's not full spec…” the man types the address into the console, and switches to actually talking with your mouth as he drives, “...full spec can handle pressure differentials, radiation, pressure, oxygen recycling, and such.”

“Sounds like you're planning on space travel…” you consider.

“Space, deep sea, underground…” he stops at a red light, “...flight just to get around traffic: It's good to have a ready-made path wherever… but that's not the real point.”

“Then what is?” You ask.

“The same basic reason I'm having you use your soul's power: Exercise.” The man takes a breath in your body, “The body has limits to how much good exercise can do. A point of diminishing returns… the soul does not seem to have any such limit. Both need exercise to improve, and it's not great to slack off with either for very long.” Your body takes a breath, “Don't get me wrong: I fully plan to actually use the stuff I build into this. Magic to replace gas, magic to recycle air, magic to fly, magic to handle wastewater reclamation, and on and on. Magic capacitors so it doesn't drop out of the sky if I get distracted, and so there's power available if I actually get overly tired myself. But ultimately… I'm building a set of weights so I can keep exercising.”

“There’s no limit, and you constantly exercise…” you connect the dots, “...just how old and powerful are you?”