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After Bright Tea at the White Palace, Erick felt lost. So he went to bed.

It had been a good decision, though he didn’t actually get to sleep for a while. His mind was too full of thoughts.

The people at Bright Tea had not asked if he was a Wizard, and it was only now that Erick realized why. They didn’t ask because they did not want to know. Their stance had mirrored that of Poi’s, back when Erick finally thought to bring up the subject with him back when they were at the grass travelers. Poi already knew, but he did not want to talk about it because talking about the issue would make it real. And so, just like with Poi, the wrought of Stratagold did not want to consider that Erick might be a Wizard.

Because if Erick were a Wizard, then they would be obligated to commit certain acts of violence, or magical neutering, or whatever it was they did to a newly-discovered Wizard. So they chose to forgo that specific question. And what was worse, is that if they would have asked, Erick would have lied, and Kromolok’s white [Zone of Truth], or whatever, would have called him out on the lie, and then things would have gotten very messy, anyway. So they had chosen to ask instead after Erick’s goals and character. What they found there was acceptable…

But then Erick had told them that he was likely immortal, now, thanks to Rozeta…

And that was a big deal for them.

It was like a switch had been flipped in the royals and in everyone else in that room.

That Erick was now immortal put him into a whole different category of interactions. What sort of interactions? Erick had no idea at the moment.

Eventually, as his thoughts rounded and he went over them for the tenth time, he found nothing new to consider. No new angles. No new unexpected threats.

He slept.

When Erick woke up the next day he did his usual business behind a Privacy then walked out to the front room of his [Fairy Stronghold], and saw the proof of his new path of interaction with the wrought sitting on the kitchen table. It was some herbal food sitting under [Preservation Ward]s to keep one cold, one warm, and one of them dry on a little plate. It was breakfast made by a health nut whose ideas of health were from another world. Which, Erick supposed Tasar was. Or if he wanted to be truly technical, Erick himself was.

One bowl of green slop. Pasted herbs, or something. Smelled okay. Cold, which was… It was a cold slop. It wasn’t Erick’s best idea of a good breakfast. But… Cereal was cold? So maybe this was fine.

A tea of bitter black root. Did not smell good at all. It stank, actually. Like herby dung, or something similar.

A few cubes of some sort of— Ah. Soul balm palm cubes. Little hard-and-waxy tan things; the dried sap of the soul balm palm trees. Erick at least knew the reason for that particular health food; it helped to speed up the healing of the soul. Was Erick’s soul broken, though? He didn’t think so. He remembered drinking soul balm palm tea back in Treehome, courtesy of Syllea, and it was rather good tea. This stuff looked vaguely more… Homey? Expensive? Both, actually. This version looked different than the one Erick had already had; it was a tea that had been distilled into candy form, probably.

There was also a thin book next to the ‘meal’. The book was handmade, with a red cover and no outside writing. Erick had already glanced inside through his mana sense, though, and saw it was a primer on acquired immortality. Erick just blinked at that.

Of course the wrought would have some sort of… Not a mass-produced primer, but of course they would have a primer of acquired immortality. Sitnakov had said something about helping Erick ascend to immortality if he threw in deep enough with Stratagold. This was probably an extension of that.

And over on the other side of the house, Erick saw Tasar blipping stuff from one end of the large empty room to the other.

She stopped a few moments after Erick entered the kitchen, tripping a purposefully-left puddle of green shadows she had left on the wall. She stepped out of that section of air, into the kitchen, smiling brightly, “Good morning!”

“Good morning.” Erick asked, “So what’s all this, then?”

Tasar got right to it, saying, “I suppose you’re keeping your immortality under cover, but I got to talking with everyone else who was in that room with us yesterday and the King and the Queen sent over some supplies for you. A welcome-to-eternity gift. All of them are good supplies to have on hand for the type of immortality you seem to now possess, but it’s clearly different from what Stratagold was offering to help you learn how to cast. Still, though, the supplies are useful for all people with enhanced natural lifespans. They don’t do much for normal people, unfortunately; The Script already pulls up mortals as high as baseline biology will allow, but immortals need something a bit extra.”

“Yes…” Erick said, “Stratagold tried to offer me immortality spellwork to tempt me to side with them… But I know for a fact that Phagar has said that true [Immortality] magic is not a thing under the Script. So what was going on there?”

“Ah. Okay. Well.” Tasar said, “It’s all in the primer, but I would rather explain it all to you if you are amenable. It seemed like a lot of things happened yesterday, and I wasn’t sure if you were ready for this sort of talk yet.”

“Thank you for the concern. I’m ready, though.” Erick pulled out the chair to the side of the ‘breakfast’ and sat down, saying, “I’d like you to explain all of… There’s a lot, actually.”

Tasar pulled out the chair opposite Erick and sat down, saying, “Gladly. Where would you like to start?”

One series of questions rocketed to the front of Erick’s mind and would not allow any other thoughts until it was satisfied. “What were the other types of immortality on offer? What does it all mean?”

Tasar nodded, then said, “Before we begin, a warning.

“Mortals don’t like dying, as you are well aware. But these spells are self-cast only, by the designs of the Script, and they’re not truly [Immortality], either, since Phagar locked that up tighter than a Ban, as you already know. Not many people actually know that, but I should not be surprised that you do. Anyway.

“All of these magics are functional immortality. And as such, they all have drawbacks.

“But mortals don’t care about drawbacks when they’re dying. The powerful ones will go through any danger if it means living a longer life. Sometimes the weak ones do, too. This desperation always leads to problems. Killing and sacrifice. Generalized disruption which leads to more death and… A lot of bad things happen if these methods to immortality were to be explained to the general public, because they would want them, and they can’t cast them anyway, so this is my warning:

“Don’t go telling people what I tell you right now.” Tasar said, “That way leads to death. Maybe not now, but eventually. It always does. Without fail.”

Erick nodded. He left the rest of that whole discussion for another time for he did not feel like digging too deep into the ethics of immortality-for-some right now. “I understand.”

Tasar continued, “There are a handful of major ways to achieve functional immortality.

“The first is [Polymorph]. Almost everyone knows this way, and I’m not talking about killing and eating a younger person. We’ll execute you for that if we find it happening. What we wrought can do, is grant you the use of our neighborhoods to allow you to blend in as one of our people in one of those neighborhoods. It’ll take a year or three, but if you can follow the programs set down and the routine, then you can eventually [Polymorph] into one of the types of people in those neighborhoods. Using this method, if you lived in an orcol community you would become a flesh and blood orcol. You won’t become a wrought, though; that never happens, no matter how much some people might want it to.

“This is the easiest method as it requires almost no actual magical skill, beyond learning the intricacies of [Polymorph]. A whole school of magic unto itself, but still just a single spell.

“After the first three transitions you should be able to do this anywhere in the world, in any community.

“The second way to achieve functional immortality, and also the reason for these items here today, is to be able to cast the high-tier Blood Magic spell [The Rite of Ancient Blood]. The higher tier the better. At eighth tier, which is the one you want, it costs a million and a half mana and has to be cast in ritual, once per year. If you cannot reach the eighth tier and you are forced to go for a lower tier, this still works, but it is an inferior method; the usual result is the spell [Blood Renewal]. [Blood Renewal] needs to be cast every month for a million mana, in the same sort of ritual.

“This is the method which requires the most upkeep, in the form of sagetree soup, bitterblood tea, and soul balm palm tea.” Tasar gestured to the items on the table. “Every time you cast this type of magic on yourself you need to do this health regimen, which means [Blood Renewal] will have you eating these things 12 times a year, as opposed to [The Rite of Ancient Blood]’s once per year.

“Sagetree soup is a blend of herbs gathered from a sagetree, which some Blood Mage created in the year 150 Post Sundering in order to make all his Blood Magic work better on himself. Sagetree soup actually heightens all beneficial magic you cast on yourself, granting a small but noticeable multiplier to things like [Personal Ward]. It’s only about 5% to 10%, where you spend 100 mana and get the effect of spending 110 mana, but the effect lasts a long time if you don’t stress it; nearly a month!

“It will be used up within three days if you use Blood Magic’s path to immortality.

“Bitterblood tea is the exact opposite, as it strips away harmful effects of spellwork cast from any source upon you for the next month. If something is supposed to deal 100 damage, it might actually only deal 90 or 95 damage.

“Same deal there with a month-timeframe reduced to days in the case of major Blood Magic.

“Together, these two effects eliminate the dangers of an unchecked [Blood Renewal] or [The Rite of Ancient Blood].

“And then you have the general panacea for magical ailments; soul balm palm tea. It helps to speed along the healing of the soul which is always necessary after large body-altering magic.

“And finally, the last method to immortality is to cast the spell [Timelessness] on yourself.” Tasar said, “That is very much a double-sided spell. You no longer age, but you also no longer naturally heal, or tire, or get less-tired after resting. You also no longer take damage from any damage over time effects, and you don’t need to breathe. You can cancel the spell at any time, and there are no side effects from canceling it, but there’s also no turning back the clock once you allow time to flow forward. You can only ever stop time; you cannot reverse it.

“[Timelessness] also doesn’t run down the clock on improperly-created magic. You must still break the magic and then wait days or months without [Timelessness] active in order to gain the creation powers of the Script once again.

“And the fourth method… It’s not really immortality.” Tasar said, “It’s lichdom. Learning enough soul magic to become a self-summoned creature, creating your body as necessary. Lot of drawbacks to that one… Really too many to name in any short amount of time. The short version is you lose your senses and you have to become a creature of mana sense and otherwise, and also you lose the pleasures of the flesh, which include sleeping and understanding humor and love. You can regain a lot of those pleasures if you become very good at Soul Magic and Blood Magic and Summoning Magic— Necromancy is a very large field of magic. But otherwise… you become an unfeeling, uncaring husk of a person.

“There’s technically a fifth method, too, but that requires you to become a dragon.” Tasar shook her head a little, saying, “I don’t think you want to become a dragon.”

Erick sat back in his chair and took that all in. “Immortality is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.” He glanced at the three bits of ‘food’ on the table. “Those seem like they would allow me to use [Bloody Ward] without issue.”

Tasar instantly narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “You should still not use that spell. The effects from sagetree soup and bitterblood root tea are extensive, but also minimal, and they will get used up if you actively stress them. These foods probably won’t even do anything for you, depending on…” She seemed to want to hold her tongue, but then she could not, “Depending on what exactly happened between you and Rozeta; the nature of your specific immortality. But the Blood Magic route is the one that Stratagold was most ready to present to you, and so there is no need to deny you the items that they had prepared for you, anyway.” She rapidly added, “You don’t have to tell me what sort of immortality you gained, and I am specifically not asking you to tell me…” She paused, then decided that those words were enough. Then she nodded.

Erick looked at the green slop…

It wasn’t actually slop. It did look like green tomato soup, though. And it was cold.

“I’ll try it.” Erick asked, “I assume it’s expensive?”

“Ruinously. Magical herbs and other items are among the most expensive in the world because you can't simply [Duplicate] them.” Tasar said, “I understand that Stratagold has three groves of sagetrees and two fields of bitterblood root and they’re all guarded like a king’s bedchambers. I’m not even sure where those places are, but they’re certainly not anywhere near Stratagold itself. The soul balm palm is much, much less expensive. I know where that grove is. That stuff you can harvest every year.”

“This all seems very useful.” Erick frowned a little, muttering to himself, “Maybe I should look into alchemy as a hobby.”

“Oh yes.” Tasar said, “With your penchant for [Grow]ing new things you should look into long-harvest high-potency alchemical ingredients. Even if you don’t use any of it yourself, some of these things —bitterblood root especially— only get more potent and powerful with age. I think this tea was harvested on a 3 year cycle, which is at about the minimum timeframe for it to become useful.”

Erick breathed deep, then asked, “Why does it take so long for magical plants to grow, anyway? I heard it was because they become monstrous if you try to force their growth, but that doesn’t seem any worse than monster cows, and I know people raise those all the time.”

“It’s something to do with a shift in potency; a dilute effect grows stronger as the plant ages and naturally matures, but once monsterfication occurs all that potency is subsumed into the growth of sentience and malfeasance. That’s about all I know on the subject, though.” Tasar said, “I’ve spent a few decades here and there playing around with plants, but— My biology is different from yours, so this stuff is not my focus. I do grow magic crystals, though. Those are pretty useful as a wrought. Like sagetree soup; a long term buff to all spellwork.”

Erick decided that he had enough of immortality talk for now. It wasn’t like there was any pressing need to learn the ropes, anyway. He had eternity, if everything went right.

… And suddenly eternity seemed like a very long time.

Erick pulled away from that sudden abyss of thought and focused on the present as he changed the subject. “To change the subject: I’ve been trying to understand a specific type of spell that I don’t know if it actually exists, but you would know. [Spelleport]; [Teleport] but targeting other people’s spellwork, to shift it to some other space or direction.” He added, “Specifically, the moving of very, very strong magic. Like— Did you hear of the Red Dot that some mage threw at Spur? That sort of magnitude 9 sort of spell. I want to be able to redirect that sort of thing.”

Tasar brightened at the subject of Spatial Magic, or maybe at the specific subject, Erick wasn’t sure. And then she focused, and said, “This is a very simple answer, but for very complicated reasons.

“No.

“That doesn’t work.

“You cannot [Teleport] magnitude 9 spellwork cast by another, in any way, shape, or form. You can only mitigate it.” Tasar happily said, “But! Anything below mag 5 you can [Teleport Magic] to some other location or aimed in a different direction. Anything at or below mag 7 you can [Spatial Domain] to some other location. Mag 8 and 9 spellwork can only be altered by other mag 8 or 9 spellwork, or mitigated by a lot of lower level spellwork.

“In almost all scenarios where facing high magnitude magic, you should simply run the other way, or if you must try to counter it then you should use as many layers of defense and mitigation as you can. Transmutation from one Element to another works best, if you got it. Reflection broadly does well in all scenarios. Simple Force can mitigate a lot, if it’s thick enough and ablative enough.

“The reason you can’t do much against high mag spellwork is because high mag spellwork alters the very nature of the manasphere in an area.” Tasar said, “It’s almost always Domain-based, first of all, which means you have to break that to alter the spell, but secondly, high mag spells are almost always very, very high mana cost—” Tasar waved a hand, saying, “It gets complicated. We can speak on that if you wish but—

“But if you want to learn [Teleport Magic] anyway, I can certainly teach you that! It’s a lot less useful than you might think, but it’s surely useful in some scenarios.” Tasar added, “A [Spatial Domain] is much more useful, though.”

Erick said, “I want to learn [Teleport Magic], if you are willing, but before we get there: What about using [Gate] to move a Red Dot?”

Tasar gave a small smile. “This tactic works. One of the many, many reasons to get [Gate].”

“… Okay.” Erick said, “Lower mag spellwork has a hard time affecting higher mag spellwork.”

“Broadly true, yes,” Tasar agreed.

“Does that mean that [Gate] is mag 10?”

Tasar jerked as if slapped. Slowly, she spoke, “… Noooo… ooh?” She shook her head. “No. I mean… [Gate] is already out there and we know the functionality of the spell. There are historical records of [Gate] being used to move mag 9 spellwork around— Okay. So. I don’t know the reasoning why it works, but I never imagined it worked because [Gate] is mag 10. [Gate] is probably not mag 10. It just looks that way because of the effect, which is to seamlessly connect two parts of the world together and to allow free movement between those two points.”

“Yes.” Erick said, “But if, as my current Worldly Path suggests, [Gate] is actually just a Fae Domain and a Spatial Domain and some existence inside the mana connecting two places together, maybe [Gate] just looks like it seamlessly connects two places together.” He added, “Plus, we already know that back in the Rage Wars the Raging orcols tried to capture the Gate Network. They did this by breaking open a [Gate] to get at the space between the seemingly-solid ring of magic that is [Gate]’s magical manifestation. The records of that are spotty, but this is what I gathered from Archmage Tenebrae’s books on the subject.”

Tasar frowned a little. Erick could tell that she did not like Tenebrae; no one did, it seemed. But she said nothing.

Erick continued, “So this might mean that [Gate] is mag 10. Maybe that is what a Wizard is meant to do to the Walker’s [Spatial Domain] or [Fae Domain]. Maybe a Wizard is not meant to actually combine those two Domains into one, but to heighten the power of a Domain all the way to mag 10.”

Tasar scowled, but Erick could tell it was directed at herself. She muttered, “I suppose a direct-increase of a spell’s power is one of the easiest things for a Wizard to do… But this would break the magnitude limits set by the Script...” She said, “But then again this is what Wizards do, so… I don’t know. It’s a theory...”

As her voice trailed off, Erick threw another idea out there, “How about this idea then:

“[Teleport] works in this way: A physical space spreads out between multiple endpoints in the mana, and then the user decides to be at one of those different end points.

“So maybe [Gate] is the opposite. I am partial to my idea of a construct existing in the mana, so maybe [Gate] is mana moving into this side of reality and deciding it wants to be two places at once, and people can step through this hole in reality.” Erick added, “I don’t have that idea fully fleshed out, but the bare bones are there; something in the mana that is multiple places at once.”

“… Maybe.” Tasar said, “Let’s go back to the magnitude stuff for a moment: You can throw antirhine through the center of a [Gate] and the [Gate] is not disturbed. This means that the two areas at either end are truly connected, and that there is no ‘tunnel’ inside the mana. In this way, what is happening is not an overriding of reality with a high magnitude spell, but more like Tricking Magic. It might be that [Gate] is mag 10, but I doubt it.”

Erick shrugged. “I knew that extreme-light materials could go through a [Gate] and not break it, but I didn’t know that about antirhine, too… But: What happens when you touch the ring of the Script-enabled [Gate] with antirhine?”

“… Ah.” Tasar said, “It explodes, actually. Very large explosion. Only a mag 5, though.”

“Defensive measure against tampering, then? The explosion disallows entry into the base workings of the [Gate]?”

“Unknown, but highly likely—” Tasar froze. She frowned. She said, “If you throw antirhine at a mag 9 spell you will break that spell down to a lower magnitude. I mean… Effects vary depending on the spell you’re trying to break with antirhine. The most common decrease in power is from mag 9 to mag 7 or 6.”

For a long moment both of them just sat there.

“Whatever the case, we're not solving this mystery just sitting here.” Erick asked, “I’m going to eat that food and then I want your help with [Teleport Magic], if you are willing. I would also be willing to help you with making your own [Fairy House].”

Tasar smiled a lot, then said, “Sure! That sounds great.”

Erick reached over and grabbed the bowl of sagetree soup, asking, “Could I get a seed from a sagetree?”

“I don’t foresee that being a problem; I’ll look into it. Maybe I can get you one by this afternoon.”

“Thank you.” Erick reached over and picked up the immortality primer, too. “After magic making.”

Tasar stood up, saying, “Then I’m going back to the Domainwork. Let me know when you’re ready.”

She walked away and Erick had breakfast in private.

The soup tasted like grass.

The black tea tasted pretty great, actually. Like a durian fruit; horrible smell, great taste. Acquired taste, of course, but that was fine.

The soul balm palm sap worked well as a candy. Erick sucked on the caramel/buttery/coconut-like hunks of dried and prepared sap while he read the primer on immortality.

It was a pretty boring read from a culture that had a specific view of immortality. There were a lot of rules and guidelines to ‘follow’, or to at least be aware of, as a new immortal. There were actually different levels of immortals, as most immortal-capable beings did not live past 25, if they chose a life of monster fighting, or 150, because catastrophic events happened pretty often around the Geodes. Once you got past those hurdles of time then you were considered a ‘real’ immortal.

But even before that, there were rules to follow, because no one planned to die at 25 or 150; everyone tried to live a whole lot longer than that, and thus they followed commensurately longer-view ideologies.

‘Don’t get too close to mortals, but as this is likely your first hundred years of life, you will likely not want to follow this guideline; do as you will.’ ‘Do place more emphasis on courtesy and propriety than you have before.’ ‘Don’t worry too much about money between fellow immortals, though there are exceptions and the young immortals value money quite a lot. Favors are more valuable to the old immortals.’ ‘Don’t get too involved with mortal affairs such as commerce, unless you can handle the disappointment of needing to explain the same thing over and over; to train up yet another person every 20 years, or however long you wish to be involved in mortal affairs.’ ‘Do help out mortals, but stay away from them as well; their society might seem like your society, but it is not.’ ‘Don’t put yourself in a position of power over mortals, for one of them will eventually come along and try to replace you, and they will likely use violence and ruin everything you have tried to make.’

And then, in big bold red letters near the middle of the book:

‘Do keep your word. Don’t lie. Don’t lie through obfuscation. Don’t lie through misinterpretation. There are always new mortals who will know of you, but if you break your word or a promise with a fellow immortal, this news will spread and remain remembered, forever. You will be looked down upon for this transgression. Depending on the severity of your lies and possible betrayal, you may not ever be trusted again.’

Well, shit.

Erick had fucked that guideline pretty hard.

Oh well.

Erick felt he understood a lot more about the Geode wrought and their brand of immortality after reading the book, but this collection of words was obviously not the full story.

Wrought lived everywhere on Veird, though it was usually hard to find them out in the open like you would a dragonkin or a human or incani. According to this book, this arrangement was by the design of their culture, or at least this was the design of the primary culture of Stratagold, from which this book was created.

Come to think of it… The only wrought Erick ever really saw on the Surface were Silverite, Killzone, Liquid, Anhelia, and a few others, but all of them were inside Spur. There were a few more here and there out in the world, but not nearly as many as there were in Spur. Spur’s immortal wrought were all around 600 to 1000 years old, too, if Erick had those numbers right. No one really knows how old Silverite or Killzone were but there was a lot of speculation.

Erick put the book away and went to Tasar.

It was time to learn [Spelleport]! It would likely not solve his Red Dot worries, but new magic was great, anyway. In Erick’s opinion, it was both better to know a bunch of esoteric magic and never need it, than it was to potentially find oneself without the proper spell in any given scenario.

And, even if [Spelleport] turned out to be a dud, as Tasar said it was, it would still be incredibly useful when it came to shutting down lower-level mages. Now Erick wasn’t one to gloat, but the fact is that most other mages are lower-level mages. And all the warriors out there were even lower than that!

… Not that Erick would ever say those unkind words. But truth was truth. [Spelleport] might even be more useful than Elemental Mercy.

- - - -

They practiced magic upon a tangle of Yggdrasil’s bright white roots that arced above the water about half a kilometer away from the trunk. The first thirty minutes went rather well, as it was basically just a reiteration of how Spatial Magic worked. There were also some various experiments where Erick manually blipped a whole bunch of stuff, from fish to Ophiel, to prove he could. Tasar was quite surprised by his manual magic dexterity, but then she got over that and told him how he could do better. He used [Greater Lightwalk] to enact his manual Spatial Magic, as his aura control was still rather shoddy, so there was a lot of room for improvement there; he should learn how to do this with aura control, as soon as his aura was actually under his control completely.

There was no need to show that he could blip people, for Tasar had seen enough.

And then they started talking. Tasar had a lot more depth to the subject of Spatial Magic than anyone Erick had ever encountered before, but that was to be expected. She was a Spatial Mage before she transitioned to a Summoner, back when she tried to make [Gate] centuries ago. She was still a Summoner these days, mainly because—

“Spatial Magic only really does one thing very well,” Tasar said. “It alters the position of a currently-existing object in reality, through the stretching of the caster’s personalized Reality. Spatial Magic doesn’t harm, unless putting something into a specific place would then cause harm, but even then, Spatial Magic works best when you’re working within certain rules.

“Broadly, those rules are ‘where would this item be if its past had been slightly different’.

“Spatial Magic allows us to skip all the steps necessary to actually move something from Point First to Point Last, even if such a transition would have required a hundred Point Middle steps. For instance: you are trapped in a cage suspended over a chasm, and you want to go home. No need to summon something to go grab the keys off the guard, while simultaneously hiding that magic from the [Scry] eyes all around, and then, when you pass that point, you’re still dangling over a chasm. I’ll leave it up to you to decide what other steps there are to getting out of this situation.

“But with Spatial Magic you can just— Pop! Back home. Like the people that captured you had never captured you at all.

“The Script streamlines this action to merely cost 250 mana every single time you work [Teleport].

“But when you’re manually casting Spatial Magic, the more steps you need to overcome from moving to First to Last means the more mana you have to spend to make this Reality a reality. There are a lot of nuances to this. In the cage-scenario, traveling ten meters with a [Blink] to a cliffside you can reach, but where you never would have normally been, is a lot cheaper than traveling all the way back to the point you were captured days ago and then thrown into the cage; ten mana to reach the cliff, 350 to go all the way back home...” Tasar asked, “I see you have a counterpoint?”

Erick did. “Practically all my manual blipping costs nearly nothing. Just normal [Greater Lightwalk] costs. Thousand kilometers each time.”

“That’s because you’re very skilled with [Greater Lightwalk]. Can you honestly envision anything barring your path, anywhere you go? In lightform, you can do this. The fact that you have an Elemental Body at all means that movement is very easy for you, therefore all further steps on the path of your past into the future are easier.” Tasar added, “Though I’m sure… ‘blipping’ in the Underworld has been a tad difficult.”

She wasn’t comfortable with Erick’s word for [Teleport].

“Then that explains that. Thank you.”

Tasar nodded, then said, “I can set up some Spatial Magic trials for you to overcome if you wish. You’ll need to use aura control, though. You should be able to experience a bit of what a normal mage goes through that way. Still, though… probably best to wait until you get a clear aura.”

Erick nodded.

“And so: onto [Teleport Magic].

“[Teleport Magic] is more like [Teleport Other] than it is like [Teleport Object]. But it is different.

“This is because magic has intent. A [Force Bolt] will want to hit what the caster directed it to hit. But, looking at another magic, a [Force Bomb] will just explode at the end of its path, or if it is disturbed. In this way, it is about the same mana costs to [Teleport Magic] a [Force Bolt] as it is to, uh, ‘blip’ a [Force Bomb], even though the Bolt costs 5 mana and the Bomb costs 50. Mana costs mean more intent, but the manner of the intent matters as well.”

Erick was realizing something. “[Teleport Magic] will usually cost at least as much mana as the spell costs, doesn’t it.” He added, “Not much better than a [Dispel], then.”

“The power and intent behind the spell you are targeting matters a lot for costs, but! If you fail to correctly guess the mana cost of the opposing magic, [Teleport Magic] might still work, a little. This is not a failed [Dispel] situation, where failing to properly guess the opposing mana check means you fail. Actual results of a failed or minimal success means that the spell you have targeted probably moves a little, or maybe the trajectory is off.” Tasar said, “It’s not too useful of a spell, like I said. Still, it might be good for you to learn it, just so that you have it.”

Erick nodded.

Tasar continued, “Now, how this magic works is to target the intent inside a magic, and to change that intent through a Spatial Magic alteration, so that the spell was either aimed away from you, or aimed to the side, or something. If you spend a lot of mana, you might even be able to completely reverse the trajectory of the incoming [Grand Fireball], though this tactic usually fails. It is usually safer to try and influence the intended target of a [Grand Fireball] to anywhere not near you, or something like that.

“[Teleport Magic] is very limited in scope.” Tasar finished with, “As I said it was.”

Erick nodded again. “Okay. Sounds reasonable.”

“Let us try, then?” Tasar gestured to the side and began conjuring floating, stabilized balls of black-green Force. Erick assumed they were shaped [Force Walls]. “These are Shaped [Force Wall]s. I put a rather minimal amount of intent into the casting, so you should be able to [Teleport Magic] them if you try—”

Erick reached over with his lightform and flicked a bit of his normal Spatial Magic methodology through that first orb.

Tasar went wide-eyed and quiet.

The force orb had blipped upward three meters.

A few blue boxes appeared. Aside from the ones that congratulated him for remaking a basic spell, there was the spell itself.

--

Teleport Magic, instant, touch + variable range, 25 mana + Variable

A magic within close range shifts around at your variable discretion.

--

With surprise in her voice, Tasar said, “Ah. So. You’re good at this, then.”

Erick laughed a little. “I still haven’t figured out how to [Teleport] people between Yggdrasil’s bodies, yet. Admittedly I haven’t put much effort into that; there’s only so much time in the day.”

Tasar’s surprise gave way to cold reality. “I haven’t realized how to do this yet, either. The best I could do is what eventually became the t-station network. Would you like to work on that?”

“Nope. Let’s get you [Fairy House]. You have [Fairy Item], yeah?”

Tasar brightened. “I have [Fairy Item] and...”

Tasar eventually summoned some chalkboards with a lot of math on them.

Erick countered with Ophiels singing songs of Elemental Fae.

They spent two hours talking on the subject, but Tasar wasn’t willing to commit to a 100 day spell creation timer if she failed her tier-four [Fairy House]. They tabled the discussion for now, and would pick it up again later.

“I think it’s time to move on, anyway. Time for an inquiry.” Erick said, “Let’s go to the embassy and set that up.”

Tasar blinked a bit. “Uhh— Yes. Okay.”

- - - -

All inquiries took place in the same room in the embassy.

That ‘room’ took up a hemisphere of space almost a kilometer across, and half a kilometer deep. Erick had poked his mana sense that way a few times with Ophiel to see what was what and to view parts of ongoing inquiries here and there. The inquiry preparatory committee hallway had a few scale models as well, which the people there used to show potential ‘respondents’ —the name given to those who were to undergo an inquiry— what to expect once inside.

Erick saw those dioramas and experienced a shortened prep session around one of them when he went to that IPC hallway to gather his team. After Otaliya also came by they once again went over what to expect inside the inquiry. Tasar’s mother, and pretty much every single person in EIPCs had been surprised that he was actually going ahead with his inquiry this quickly. Erick had told them in the beginning to expect a quick inquiry, but they didn’t actually believe it would be happening today.

But Erick had done his due diligence; he had done everything he could to line up a positive outcome, except prepare for a full year. All he truly wanted was runic web clearance, and he was pretty sure he had that in the bag; everything else was gravy.

After final preparations, Otaliaya was the most enthusiastic of them all, saying, “I wish you the best of luck, Erick! If anyone deserves a positive inquiry, it is you!” She smiled. “Savior of Light. Now let’s go secure that win!”

Otaliya and the EIPC teams had been invaluable in helping Erick understand the people he would be facing in the inquiry room, but they could not help him in the final showdown. They were allowed to sit behind him during the actual inquiry. All the rest of the crowd would find seats in the higher stands.

No one would be allowed to interact with Erick aside from the inquiry panel once the inquiry started.

Seeing the stadium in person was an experience. Everything was white and gold, with yellow cushioned seating and yellow drapes hanging down all over. It had multiple levels of seating which all faced a relatively small arena-like space down in front. It was like a fancy theater with almost all of its space devoted to the audience, and with clear purposes regarding who could sit where. The first 150 front row seats were reserved for guests of the respondent. Some of the balconies were clearly reserved for mortal nobility, with their easy access to bathrooms and such mundane needs. Others were reserved for wrought, with one in particular on the left side looking like an obvious place for the Heavies to sit; where royalty could watch if they wanted.

It all kinda reminded Erick of a half of a football stadium.

Erick arrived at the inquiry desk, where he filled out final paperworks much to the surprise of every single wrought working that desk. Some of the nearby wrought went running off, no doubt to tell people that Erick was here, and that his inquiry was happening today.

Events proceeded semi-rapidly from there.

The clerks in charge set Erick down in the queue, to the left of the main stage, alongside two other people who promptly recognized him. One fellow respondent was a human woman in noble-like clothes who saw and recognized Erick, and then she excused herself from the line. She went to the clerks and told them to reschedule, which they began helping her do. The next person in line, an orcol man, chuckled when he understood what was happening. He wished Erick luck as he also stepped out of line to reschedule. Both of them would try their hand some other day, when the inquiry panel is back to who they expected to see on the bench.

And so, Erick sat down, and he watched.

The current respondent on stage was a dragonkin man. As the hubbub in the respondent’s box distracted him he glanced Erick’s way, his eyes going wide as he flubbed whatever he was going to say, but then he recaptured his words and kept right on going. The hundreds of people (mostly dragonkin) sitting directly behind the respondent (and also spilling over into the other nearby seating) all noticed Erick too, as Erick made himself comfortable in the queue, about fifty meters from the respondent’s podium.

Except for the current respondent’s voice, the place was pretty quiet.

Erick suspected that he would have been hearing a lot of whispers and open talk if not for the runic webs buried here and there, keeping sound cordoned off and one-directional, for the most part. According to what Erick knew, the respondent’s words would go out to everyone sitting in the stands, while the stands were spelled to not spill sound outward. The inquiry board had their own complicated set of sound spells that they could control and direct as they wanted; either for private deliberations or for open speech.

Every single inquiry board member sat behind a wide arc of a solid crystal table that curved away from the respondent. Every one of them had the same sized chair, except for one; the chair in the middle, which belonged to the Heavies. The royalty of Stratagold. Behind the assembled panel rose a relief of crystals and light and sculptures of white-metal wrought helping sculptures of wooden people to ascend to the brightness above. Erick suspected there was a symbolism there about the permanency of metal and the weakness of wood, but maybe that choice was just to denote the true difference between the wrought and everyone else. Wood could grow and change. Metal did not.

The inquiry board was all wrought, of course, but the only person Erick actually recognized was Prince Abarnikon, who sat on the central, largest chair. The Prince glanced to Erick, in a regal sort of way, and simply nodded, as he continued to listen to the current respondent. All the other board members were a lot more open about their noticing of Erick. They whispered to aides or glanced around, expectantly. One guy flipped some switches in front of him to fully obscure his body and his words. Seconds later an aide raced out of that guy’s obscured space; a man on a mission. And then that guy’s obscuring bubble went away. Mostly.

Erick couldn’t hear any of the people on the inquiry board, nor could he read their lips, because there was some sort of generalized obfuscation surrounding and hiding many of the smaller actions of those people. It was easy enough to read their body language, and the small plaques set up in front of them which read which force of Stratagold that person represented. Some of the people were excited, like the gold wrought from the merchant caste, and the one silver wrought representing Archmage’s Rest. Some were ambivalent, from the white wrought from the Church, to the guy representing Stratgold’s armies and guard, to the woman representing agricultural concerns…

Erick would have thought that he had done a lot for agriculture on Veird—

Ah. Fuck. Should he have followed up with having Yggdrasil run [Exalted Rain] in his cavern every now and then? It would have been a great food source… Oh well. Later. He could look into that later. Before he actually left, or perhaps even inside this inquiry, too. Yes. That was a better idea.

The guy from the Gemslicers wasn’t happy at all.

Erick was not surprised by that, though he felt it odd that the Gemslicers were large enough to warrant a seat at this table, anyway. Otaliya had told Erick that they represented the interests of the Healers, though, so with that in mind their presence made some sort of sense.

The current respondent rested his right hand on the podium beside his station, supporting himself as he continued to answer the question he had been asked, though he flubbed his answer again, and then he froze in pure, terrified worry. He was fucking up.

Ah. Erick felt bad for the guy. Nothing to be done about it, though. Erick was content to wait his turn. These things usually didn’t take more than two hours anyway and he had [Renew]ed himself in his Other Form before coming here.

… The dragonkin respondent wasn’t recovering.

As five seconds of silence stretched into ten, and then thirty…

Prince Abarnikon touched some controls on the armrest of his chair and his calm speaking voice sounded out to the rest of the room, “If the respondent would like a five minute break we can oblige. We honor your time and your willingness to be here, and so, no matter who is slated to come next, your inquiry is just as valued as any other.”

The respondent gave a nervous chuckle—

The respondent rallied, saying, “I thank Prince Abarnikon for his grace. I would prefer to continue.”

Abarnikon nodded. “Then: you were speaking of vulnerabilities of agriculture, and how to solve for [Grow]ing food in the deep Underworld for an estimated 25,000 people.”

The respondent, named Bayolth, stood tall, and spoke, “Surveys of the proposed cityspace indicate that…”

Seeing an inquiry in person was about the same as seeing it through Ophiel. Boring, but stressful. Erick had an idea of what sorts of questions they were going to ask him; from questions about Last Shadow’s Feast, to his failure with Terror Peaks, to the handling and his plans for the Blessing of Empathy of his Crystal Star, to other such questions.

Comparatively, Bayloth was getting a completely normal inquiry. ‘How do you handle defense?’ ‘How do you handle governing?’ ‘How would you enact Stratagold’s itemized list of demands 1 through 37?’ From Bayloth’s answers and the reactions of the people both on the board and in the audience (after Erick’s presence once again faded into the background), this guy was knocking it out of the park. In fact, he seemed to be getting into it, speaking eloquently and precisely, like he was answering an oral exam and all his loved ones had shown up to support him…

Which is exactly what had happened, wasn’t it?

According to the EIPCs he hired and Otaliya, and Tasar, all of whom sat in the stands up and behind Erick, some respondents treated this exactly like an oral exam. This methodology was considered the ‘safe way’ to secure a victory, for Stratagold valued organization and knowledge and all the usual things that were conducive to a working, successful society. If one didn’t know how to solve the triple threat of monsters at the gates, no food in the pantry, and sickness spreading in a town, then they weren’t really qualified for defending against the Dark, and thus Stratagold would not want to enable such self destructive behavior.

Erick would likely get a few softball questions like that. His answers would be along the lines of: ‘I would solve all of these problems myself and in an hour, and then look for someone else to keep it solved.’

The qualifier on that statement would be important, for ‘solving it oneself’ is actually the wrong answer, because the followup would be ‘what if you’re not there?’ and Erick would currently fail that followup. Honestly, though, Erick could answer that typical followup with ‘then Ophiel or Yggdrasil will be there’, but that would show a disdain for trying to get a working society to follow in his wake.

And that’s what the inquiry truly wanted.

Stratagold wanted to support those who would support others, to continue the chain of support down to the average person in any given society. They wanted prosperity for all, and their support was just an inquiry away.

… Erick had this in the bag. Sure, most of his information on how to make a society flourish was out of date and from another world, and had required a whole bunch of updating since he got to Veird, but he felt he was doing okay these days, and the future was looking up!

Bayolth spoke for another half an hour, answering a few more soft questions with hard, specific answers. A few of the inquiry people asked harder questions, twisting Bayolth’s answers in unexpected directions, turning his good answers into the worst possible answers anyone could have given.

“A man murders his wife. What do you do?”

“The likely result is execution, but there will be a trial and [Witness]-enabled search, as provided by my people who I already have lined up for this sort of thing.’

“The man’s goal was to get into your jail all along. Now that you put him in that jail to enable easier questioning the man goes on to face steal your captain of the guard and kills your [Witness]er using the captain’s body. What do you do now?”

… Now Erick wasn’t 100% sure, but he felt that specific counter-question was halfway directed at him. Or maybe the inquiry person asked that just because he was here? Maybe the latter, actually.

Bayolth stood strong, though, and spoke of various spells and keyword systems that they had to prevent just such an event. A spy or hidden murderer on the loose in your place of power was a common enough event that people had to plan for it, and Bayolth had plans.

Erick rated Bayolth’s system a 7 out of 10.

The best method to uncover face stealers was [Cascade Imaging] based on blood and to ask another [Witness]er to come in, and to throw in a few truthstones here and there to catch a culprit on a lie and you’d be good. None of them were fool-proof, but if you put enough of them together then the net tightened pretty hard, and you usually caught whoever was fucking up your shit. But of course, if such a random face stealer managed to got into the bowels of your governing structure like that you were pretty fucked, anyway.

“… And then there’s the second path,” Bayolth said, “I would likely require help at that point due to the nature of the problem. I would ask Stratagold for aid.”

Ah.

Yeah. That was a correct answer, too. That’s what Stratagold was here for, after all. A few inquirers flipped through some papers sitting on the arc of a table in front of them, marking down some words that Erick, and no one in the audience either, could read, due to the obfuscation in effect.

The next person to speak was the representative from the gold caste, who asked a question pertaining back to an earlier sort of question about taxes and the specific brand of economy that Bayolth was trying to set up. Bayolth responded with a rather standard answer, and the inquiry board jotted down what they felt relevant, or something. Erick was quite annoyed that he couldn’t figure out what they were writing down.

Their hands were obscured when they wrote, and the papers were like gibberish. Erick could not discern the movements of the pen tip to recreate the words in his own head, either. His mana sense went very fuzzy when around that inquiry table, which had to be by design. Oh well. Whatever.

Bayolth spoke of his hopes for a stable future for him and the twenty-seven families he represented, along with a small organization of adventurers wishing to retire into simple defense of their proposed city, while they mentored others who would then go out into the Dark and clear out the dangers therein. After another half an hour, in a completely new gesture, Prince Abarnikon tapped his finger three times on the table in front of him, interrupting everything.

Everyone went silent. The audience was suddenly completely still; even the hundred and… thousands, actually, of people who had shown up in the audience since Erick had arrived. Ah. He had barely noticed that. Apparently, the massive stadium was filling up. Word of Erick’s presence had gotten around. The royal seating up top remained empty, though everything else was about three-quarters full.

Prince Abarnikon’s calm voice radiated outward, though he was speaking to his fellow inquirers, “I believe we have heard enough about basic competency. It is my belief that Respondent Bayloth knows how to govern, even if he is relatively untested at a mere 5 years at working as a judge in Section Windward’s legal division. Is there anyone here who believes he has failed this part of this inquiry?”

Every single inquirer said nothing.

And then suddenly Bayolth relaxed, his breath coming out ragged, and then calm; he had stopped breathing for a good twenty seconds. He smiled, and then he forced himself back to a professional appearance; no smiles allowed. But if it wasn’t frowned upon Erick suspected he would have danced on that stage.

Bayolth’s people started to cheer, openly and loudly, though that, too, was a quiet celebration of shaking the shoulders of their neighbors and halfway jumping out of their seats. Erick expected there would be noise but, once again, noise canceling all around. Other gathered people in the audience clapped.

Prince Abarnikon moved on. “Then we shall speak of levels and spells and skills, and hopefully you have developed enough of a following to qualify in this regard. How do you wish to proceed, Respondent Bayolth?”

After a happy silent moment, Bayolth said, “I would like to speak of aggregate numbers of people, based on the star ranking handed out by the Adventurer’s Guild, in addition to overall levels and Health of the average citizen, and the large number of qualified Healers and Herbalists and Farmers which should prevent any collapse to come from any of the known reasons for a failed city.”

Abarnikon nodded. “Proceed.”

“We have 322 people lined up for the initial founding of the city, with a median level of 40, though 100 of us are either 50 or much higher. Of those who would fight, our average ranking is 4-Star. Though we have no archmages or archwarriors we do have ten people, myself included, who are ranked 7 star…”

As Bayolth continued to speak of his number of adventurers, and then of Farmers and Healers, Erick watched as the entire inquiry board showed obvious surprise. Erick was a bit surprised, too. According to everything that he knew, Bayolth had set himself and his people up for success. Most of the adventurers who came through Spur were either 6-star by the time they moved on, or they died. Most adventurers in the rest of the world only reached 5 star, which was basically level 50 and with the skill to kill something semi-dangerous, like a single, normal ooze.

According to most of the world, Bayolth was qualified.

Bayolth finished, looking relieved and nervous at the same time. Erick expected he had gotten through the toughest part of this inquiry in the first half; proving he was capable of actually founding and maintaining a city out in the untamed Underworld.

Prince Abarnikon spoke his verdict, “Congratulations, Bayolth. You and your people will be receiving full and complete assistance against the Dark within the month. Stratagold will assist you for 25 years, with a recheck for competency every 5 years after that. Please attend to the clerks; they will work out the particulars.”

Bayolth shuddered with joy, and then he bowed. “Thank you, Stratagold.” He rose, and turned.

His people were jumping in their seats, elated for a success; the time for propriety was over, it was time for celebration.

Bayolth allowed himself to smile as he did a little pump with his fist and walked off the stage to where three wrought clerks waited.

Abarnikon announced, “There will be a ten minute recess to allow for orderly switching of the room. Would Bayolth’s people kindly move along now, and congratulations to you all, too. Stratagold looks forward to your new city, and to your success.”

The audience rapidly turned contrite and moved along; some orderly, some excitedly.

Erick glanced over at his own people which were not truly his people at all. But Otaliya’s joyful expression, Tasar’s calming solidity, and the gruff and somewhat worried faces of his three EIPC people, the human, Radigo, the dragonkin, Loori, and the incani, Walz, were all rather nice to see. They all honestly wanted him to succeed for their own reasons, from the prestige it would bring the EIPC teams, to Tasar wanting Erick to like Stratagold more than he did. Otaliya’s goal was perhaps the most pure; she just wanted good things for Erick, for he had done good things for the world and she thought that he deserved nice things done for him, in turn. They had all done a lot to help Erick realize and understand what it would take to win this inquiry, but in the end, it was up to him.

And about a year from now, or sooner, they’d all fall under heavy scrutiny for helping a Wizard.

A lot of people would fall to heavy scrutiny, actually, which was why Erick needed to do this right.

If he managed to succeed, then the full weight of Stratagold would get behind him, and with the Shades gone, this meant runic webs, and t-station access, and mutual defense on the Surface. Of course, the fly in the ointment was that this might only last a year. But with any luck, and with how much faster Erick wanted to walk the rest of this Path, he would have a [Gate] network up and running for at least 8 months before [Renew] came out in the Open Script. And that would mean he would be important enough to deal with diplomatically, instead of with assassins, or worse.

… Hopefully.

He still had ten minutes before he had to speak, though, so he went to the respondent-only bathroom located around the corner, had a drink of water from the fountain, paused as he realized the pure depth of what he was getting into…

Paused again as his mana sense told him what was happening outside long before his eyes or Ophiel could.

And then he went back out to face the double firing squad—

Well. It wasn’t that bad.

There were at least 50,000 people in the audience, though. A lot of them wrought, but there were plenty of dragonkin, human, incani, and all the other species of Veird up there in the myriad stands. Most of the stranger races were wrought in the forms of goblins or harpies or otherwise. Not many flesh-and-blood harpies down here in the Underworld—

Erick glanced at the royalty seats, saw no one, and moved on, turning to the inquiry board.

The proxies were mostly gone, replaced with the heads of their various organizations. Otaliya had warned Erick that this might happen; that he might not get ‘whoever was on the bench that day’, and that the inquiry board would reach out to the people who actually controlled the current seats, and that those true owners would come here in person. Not everyone had switched out for their true owner, but a lot had.

Archmage Riivo of Archmage’s Rest sat at his chair to the left of Prince Abarnikon. To the prince’s right sat Inquisitor Kromolok. Zooli, the gold incani man from the Merchants, was there. One surprise was sergeant Kappra; the iron incani woman who stood with her small contingent of people outside of Yggdrasil’s tunnel. She must have been more important than Erick realized, or maybe the actual owner of the seat wanted Kappra there to be able to ask direct questions about what she had observed from Erick for the past week or whatever. Aisha, the celesteel human-shaped woman from Archmage’s Rest was there, too. Did Archmage’s Rest get two chairs? Or was she there in some other capacity? She was a very good prognosticator. Awir, the silver incani-shaped Particle Mage / Healer / Gemslicer sat stiffly in his chair, looking smug. Erick hoped that he wouldn’t get too much trouble from the Gemslicers, but if they fucked him over here then Erick was going to fuck right back, and release ‘glow gems’ to everyone who wanted one—

Anger rose and beat back nervousness with a bladed stick, and then anger stayed around, but stayed quiet. Smoldering. Like a wary man waiting for the opposition to make the next move.

Ah.

Okay.

Erick relaxed.

This was good. Less nerves, more solidity. They were all just people...

Erick glanced back. Maybe 60,000 people in the stands? There was a rather conspicuous hole in the crowd near the front, though, where Erick’s people would have sat, if he had some. All he had was Otaliya, Tasar, and his EIPC people.

That looked rather embarrassing, actually.

… Erick had nine of his Ophiel flutter over to sit in the stands, each of them turning human-ish-sized and taking up two seats, while he had Yggdrasil make another [Scry] eye of about the same size to take another two seats, next to all his Ophiel. Ophiel cooed. The audience chuckled. Most approved.

There. That was better. More people in his seats was good. Otaliya seemed to get a kick out of it, too, laughing a little. And then Otaliya mouthed, ‘Good Luck’ as she waved quickly—

Well. She spoke the words, loud and happy, as a hundred other people yelled the same, while even more joined in with cheers. It seemed Erick could hear the audience if he was listening through Ophiel.

Erick quietly divorced himself from that distraction, though he left Ophiel where he was, and smiled. He turned back to the wide arc of the inquiry board, and then he stepped over to his designated space, onto the small dais to stand beside the podium of the respondent—

Erick watched as, behind him, Prince Sitnakov happily walked out of a tunnel and into the center of the stadium seating, along with three of his friends. Sitnakov instantly looked down at Erick’s designated audience and smiled wide as he moseyed down the staircase—

Tasar spotted the man a little after everyone else in the audience spotted him—

Prince Abarnikon sighed, and then his voice traveled out, “Will the audience please refrain from overt displays of any sort, and remain more respectful of this institution.”

Sitnakov and his friends made a show of hunkering down as though dodging from [Fireball]s as he put a hand over his own mouth. He quickly stepped down to Erick’s section, but had his friends sit at the top, away from the main respondent reserved area. The audience eventually went quiet again. Attention refocused forward as Sitnakov sat down right next to Tasar, who glared up at the taller man, frowning all the while. Sitnakov smiled—

Erick ignored that, and focused forward.

Prince Abarnikon began, “Stratagold greets Archmage Erick Flatt of Spur, a planar from a world called Earth, who released a new magic into Veird for the first time in over 1200 years, who will revolutionize the way alchemy is taught, and who has done more than any mortal in current memory to alleviate the threat of the Dark from the good people of Veird. They’re calling your trip through Ar’Kendrithyst ‘Last Shadow’s Feast’. What would you call it?”

Starting strong, then.

Erick stated, “I was in the right place at the right time and mostly tried not to die, while also trying to do the most good. Through my actions, but also through the actions of Melemizargo which mostly involved his direct removal of support for all of the Shades, all but 7 Shades perished. If he wants people to start trusting him as they did in the Old Cosmology, which is, I believe, a major part of his plans, then I doubt he will be making new Shades anytime soon.”

The audience was completely silent; rapt with sudden attention and deep horror in equal measure. Some of them didn’t expect Erick to speak so openly. Some visibly recoiled at the mention of ‘Melemizargo’. All of them were on the edge of their seats, even the few youngsters in the audience, brought here by their parents for whatever reason.

Probably to watch history being made.

The inquiry board was silent, too, but their silence was one of deliberation of how to attack to inflict the most damage and to test Erick’s responses. They had all tangled with Melemizargo directly, Erick guessed; the name of the Dark’s current avatar held no power over them.

Prince Abarnikon led the charge, “There are several parts of that statement which we will need to get into, but before we do that, I ask for your desires regarding this inquiry. What do you hope to get out of this?”

Erick had only practiced a few parts of his various speeches. No one knew exactly where this particular inquiry would go. But they did know that Abarnikon or someone else would ask this specific question, and Erick needed to have a strong answer.

“I hope for runic web clearance. I desire assistance with pushing back the Crystal Forest into small plots of maintained ecosystems, with most of the land being reclaimed for habitation; forests and rivers and such. I ask for assistance with [Gate] and all that entails. I want to establish political ties that will last a lifetime, and beyond.” Erick said, “But mostly, I want to establish trust, first and foremost, so that in these changing times we can still look to each other as sources of stability, no matter what storms might open up overhead, or whatever monsters might come knocking at the door.”

Abarnikon nodded. “An admirable set of goals. All which seem reasonable, and truly desired.” He stated, “Then we shall begin with the question of why you allowed seven Shades to live, and allowed one of those seven to get away without receiving a Blessing of Empathy from your Crystal Star. Why did you allow Fallopolis to get away without the Quest to Repent?”

“I am absolutely sure that if Fallopolis wanted to Repent, she would receive this Quest as well.” Erick said, “The primary reason I did not Bless her was because she seemed to honestly be working against every other Shade all around her. She was the Culler of their Clergy, and she orchestrated the murder of the vast majority of Last Shadow’s Feast; if she had had her way then they would have all died, because, in her words ‘They all deserve to die’. The only reason any Shades survived beyond her was because I Blessed them, and Melemizargo and Koyabez wished to reestablish what it meant to be a Shade. With the Quests they received to do good in the world, perhaps they will, though that is up to them; I will not shelter or hide them, but neither will I help anyone else try to kill them for revenge.” He added, “But as for the specific reason: The fighting was over by that point. I had won. I didn’t want to be punitive, and aside from all her horribleness, Fallopolis did help everyone who wished to go into Ar’Kendrithyst to kill the current Clergy of the Dark.

“It seemed wrong to try and mutate that into something different.”

Abarnikon said, “And yet, Shade Bulgan was not one of the Shades Blessed. According to your publicly released memories of Last Shadow’s Feast, you desired to kill him the most.” Abarnikon said, “If one were more cynical, they might say that the only reason he died and the others lived is because the others had not personally offended you. That your revenge is more worthwhile than the revenge of others, for though I will not go into details, I will say that Shade Treant, for example, has killed thousands upon thousands of orcols in Treehome. And yet you Blessed him. You let that monster go. One might say that all it takes to get out from under your [Luminous Beam] is to not personally offend you.

“This seems like a poor way to run a civilization.

“This seems like you could not kill a friend if they had betrayed you and started murdering others, as long as they had remained friendly to you. This seems like you are incapable of impartiality. This paints you as incapable of actually enacting the hard choices that life so often brings. This colors you as weak.

“What say you to this?”

There was some twisted logic in there, twisted to paint Erick as an idiot of a specific flavor, though he was not sure what flavor Abarnikon was going for. Erick had barely thought of Bulgan since then, though, so the question was a bit of a slapping wakeup call.

Was Erick incapable of impartiality?

Could he kill someone who had personally crossed a deep line that should not be crossed? What sort of scenario would make Erick ‘do what needed to be done’?

Erick didn’t have a full answer, but he had something of an answer. “I probably should have Blessed Bulgan, but he was created specifically to counter everything I did, and I didn’t create the Crystal Star until after he died. But if I had to do it over again… Which I did, thanks to Phagar…

“I would still kill Bulgan.

“Bulgan was a monster of the Quiet War, who killed humans without remorse, and who plotted to kill more. Through his orchestrations, and working with the Shades, he corrupted certain institutions of Spur, turning the good people there from simply defending themselves from human aggressors, to unwittingly complicit in ongoing murderous attacks.” Now that was stretching the truth, but whatever; there was no currently visible [Truth Ward] around him. “When the normal institutions failed to drive me and my daughter out of town, Bulgan tried to murder me and my daughter.

“Any valid government would have executed him for his crimes, if they had been known. But it wasn’t until my daughter and I came along and upset everything that the depth of his treachery was discovered.

“I have learned a lot since my early days on Veird, when I didn’t want to kill monsters because ‘they were living things, too’. I killed my first person accidentally— two people, actually. But it was a tactical strike against Frontier, which saved the city from annihilation.

“I’ve killed a lot more since then.” Erick said, “I never wanted to, but I did what had to be done.

“… And yet, was my solution to Bulgan a bit too drastic? Should I have Blessed him into being a better person?

“Perhaps I should have, if I had had the opportunity.

“Because there will always be Shades. So why not try a world where Shades are Blessed into realizing the depth of the damage they do to others? Where they try to do good, to make up for all the bad they have done?” Erick said, “Perhaps Bulgan didn’t need to die. But at the time, that was the only option I had.”

Erick… Wasn’t sure how he felt about that answer.

He was uncomfortable with the idea that he could have Blessed Bulgan… For a lot of reasons.

Moments passed in silence.

And then Abarnikon said, “Speak about your experience with Goldie, Queen, and the Chelation War in Songli. Do you feel your Blessing worked out there?”

Erick nodded; this was a question that he had expected to happen. He said, “A trusted source in Songli spoke of how Terror Peaks comes back every 50-60 years, committing mass slaughter. They were already primed to do this when I showed up. This trusted source explained that Songli expected casualties in the half a million to 3 million range.

“Goldie and Queen apparently worked over the entire continent to make this event line Songli up to eventually become Empire.” Erick said, “According to Goldie, who I spoke with after the war and subsequent hunting down and eradication of the entire Terror Peaks culture—” Erick wiped away a horribly embarrassing tear, muttered an apology, then continued, “According to Goldie, who is a world-class prognosticator, she and Queen expected 200,000 deaths, and for my assistance against Terror Peaks to eradicate one of the major philosophies of Nelboor that contributed to the constant warring on that continent. That was and still is their repentance goal; to stop the wars that the Shades have been inciting and supporting in Nelboor for… for forever, if my understanding of the situation is correct.

“But the final death toll was 4.5 million people.

“Goldie directly spoke of how she suspected foul play from a few different sources, in particular with regard to the extreme light materials and the soul spears. She suspected some duplicator had gotten loose from somewhere, or something like that, but she was not able to confirm anything in that regard. All she had was accusations and leads that she and others have tried to follow up on, but if anything has been discovered in that area then I have not been made aware of such a discovery.

“As for my Blessing of Goldie and Queen…” Erick said, “It is better to have Shades that feel bad about hurting people than it is to have Shades completely oblivious to the harm they cause, who believe that the people of this world are all illusions. A Shade that realizes they did wrong is better than a Shade who realized that they could have killed all of Songli at once, if they wanted to support Terror Peaks instead.”

Another moment of silence.

Archmage Riivo leaned forward a fraction, and spoke, “Are you aware that Shade Lapis is currently suspected to be assisting with Black Star Caizoa’s purge of the Angelic forces currently deployed by the Converter Angel on the Surface? What have you to say about that?”

Erick did not know that, at all. It took him a hot second to reorient to the Converter Angel problem.

He said, “I did not know that, for I have stayed away from those people who have asked me to stay away, and as of right now Caizoa has asked me on behalf of the Wasteland Kingdoms to stay out of it, for now. I have given my word, though, that I will assist in killing the Converter Angel should it show on Veird, or should Caizoa ask for help. So far, she has not.

“But should it be needed, I will always step in on a case by case basis to help to stop the Quiet War from erupting into a full war, as I did when the Greensoil Republic and Champion Yetta asked me to help with the Breach Demon about a year ago. It is my understanding that the Converter Angel has not been seen on Veird since shortly after Last Shadow’s Feast, nor have I seen indications of the usual soul-shift that indicates Angelic-conversion; and I have been looking.” Erick said, “I think, then, that Shade Lapis, under the direction of Black Star Caizoa, has erased that problem from Veird, for now. Right now, it is my understanding that the Demons and the Angels are engaged in talks of some sort over at Oceanside. After I am done at this inquiry and with Stratagold, I plan to go to Oceanside and see what that is about, since Headmaster Kirginatharp has asked me to participate in those talks.”

Archmage Riivo asked, “So you believe that it is acceptable for a Shade to mutilate the souls of whoever comes under their purview?”

“Soul surgery has to be done to help get these people out from under the sway of the Angels. If Shade Lapis is the one to do it, and if she does it well, then this shows how Melemizargo’s Clergy has changed in the wake of my Blessing.” An uncomfortable statement for many, but while some people squirmed, some people saw the utility in Erick’s statement. He continued, “If Shade Lapis proves to be the evil Shade that she likely was before, then I’m sure that I’ll likely get a quest to End her, and any of the other ones that step out of line, after my Worldly Path is over. I have already promised Rozeta to help with those sorts of situations, should they arise, and I plan to keep that promise.” He added, “But as far as I am concerned, and how I will act going forward: The only Shades who are on shaky ground are Goldie and Queen, and only for their involvement in Songli. If all the rest do good, honest work for the rest of their lives, then I see no reason to persecute them further.”

Most of the fleshy civilians in the inquiry hall were wildly unhappy with Erick’s openness about forgiveness, and some of the wrought were the same way, too. Otaliya and Tasar had already heard this from Erick, though, in their prep sessions, though they did not get this deep into it. Sitnakov was staring a bit and likely thinking deep thoughts, though; Erick had no idea what those particular thoughts were, though.

Many of the people on the inquiry board were simply reserved.

Riivo spoke, “It makes me glad to know that when this farce of forgiveness for the Shades comes to an end, that you are on the side of Rozeta. I wish to be wrong, and that this will not end in disaster, but I look forward to working with you when that inevitable disaster comes.”

Riivo seemed both more satisfied than he thought he would be, and still somehow disappointed. Erick could not point to exactly where the old iron human-shaped man was sad, but it was there, underneath his wizened exterior.

Erick probably would have known more if he had ever asked about Riivo’s relationship with the Angels and the Demons, but why would he have? It simply never came up, and Erick had tried to stay away from all that Quiet War shit as much as he could, anyway. There was a reason Riivo had asked these specific questions, though, and Erick knew that wrought society as a whole was mostly on the side of Koyabez when it came to the Angel/Demon war, but Riivo obviously had some sort of specific relationship with the forces of the Quiet War.

He would ask Riivo about all that later.

It was time for the next inquirer to speak.

Kromolok tilted forward, asking, “Why did you feel the need to breach the Core?”

For a brief moment Erick’s blood pressure spiked, for he had no idea what the Inquisitor would have asked him, but then he heard the question and relaxed. He said, “I did not know what I was getting into when I did that, and so my reasons for breaching the Core are likely insufficient. I really just wanted to see what was on the other side of the defenses.”

“Hubris and curiosity, then.” Kromolok asked, “Did it not occur to you that there were reasons we protect the Core?”

“Of course it occurred to me that there were reasons to protect that land. It also occurred to me that I needed to visit the Core in my Worldly Path, and I am glad I did.” Erick said, “I certainly didn’t endanger the Core with my presence, either. I desecrated no lands and allowed no monsters to follow me inside. I took very little and left everything as I found it as much as I could. I did not approach the Inner Core. And I had a nice chat with Rozeta about… A lot. My presence in the Core was necessary.”

Kromolok said, “Let it be known that Erick did not, in fact, endanger the Core with his presence, for though he forced his way inside he also ensured that no monsters or otherwise followed him into that sacred land. He had no idea what he was doing, but did have personal reasons for going into the Core which we will not get into here. Moving on:”

Abarnikon, Riivo, and a few others on stage did not like that, but they said no words to countermand Kromolok. The audience was rather stunned, though. Some people got out of their seats and yelled something about how Erick should have gotten clearance first, drawing the attentions of the people around them, but Erick could not pay those people much mind at the moment, for Kromolok looked to be gearing up into something big.

Kromolok continued, “It is the sacred duty of we wrought to protect the Core, and to ensure the safety of this world at large. Prior to Last Shadow’s Feast we could not freely visit the Surface to inform the general populace, as well as people like you, of this fact. We could not tell you that the manner in which you breached the Core could have been catastrophic. Thanks to you, though, and due to the Gate Network we expect you to reestablish, we will be able to create a presence on the Surface unlike ever before. We will be able to work with the people of the Surface like never before.

“We will be starting with the near-reclaimed city of Ar’Kendrithyst.”

Erick felt his pulse rise and the people behind him stare.

“Now that the Dead City is cleared of its recent soul slime troubles—”

Erick felt a near panic grip his heart as he had no idea what Spur had been facing recently, and here it was coming up in this inquiry. What the fuck was a soul slime? Was this Worldly Path shit? Or—

“—Stratagold will be joining a coalition of Geodes to fully reclaim Ar’Kendrithyst from the troubles that remain, and to establish a true wrought presence on the Surface. I urge everyone here to understand that, if you join this coalition, that this means mingling with mortals. Ar’Kendrithyst will not become a normal Geode. We will not be kicking out any mortals that decide to live there, but we will be reclaiming that land from the Darkness, fully and without reservation.” Kromolok turned back to Erick, saying, “We look forward to the new dawn.”

People started talking behind Erick, but he couldn’t hear them.

He could only say, “Pardon. My people back in Spur told me to stay away from them and their troubles due to the Worldly Path… What is the soul slime? I have not heard of this. When did this happen?”

Abarnikon spoke, “The cause of the nightly Dark Tide of Ar’Kendrithyst was ended as of 3 hours ago, when you sat down to wait for the previous respondent to finish.” He said, “The soul slime was a creature that turned the long dead souls trapped inside the kendrithyst crystal into a sludge of Blood Magic, Soul Magic, and tens of more smaller magics which our people are still trying to pick apart and understand. In short, it turned all the dead and the living of that Dead City into amalgams, mashing them together and combining powers and abilities like we have never seen before. I understand your daughter was instrumental in dealing the final blow against the soul slime before it could recover under the comfort of night. She and the people of Spur, and even Shade Farix, all played a large part in solving that mess.” Abarnikon said, “But it was Dark that finally allowed your daughter to strike the final blow, as the Dark himself held down the grand core of the soul slime, and asked Jane Flatt to kill the soul slime in the Dark’s name. Which she did. And then the Dark took something from the soul slime, claiming he would make something complementary to this new way of life and this new world that you, Erick Flatt, are attempting to create.”

… This was not news to anyone on the inquiry board. They all stared at Erick, waiting for a response and preparing to weigh that response.

This was shocking news to Erick, and judging from the audience, it was shocking news to them, too. Tasar and Otaliya and Erick’s EIPC people were all upset in various ways. Otaliya was yelling foul. Tasar glared. Sitnakov, though, had a weird reaction. He furrowed his brows as he stared at his brother, Abarnikon; questioning.

No inquirer asked anything else. They were waiting for a response.

‘Your daughter pledged a kill to the Dark. What say you?’

Erick did not directly confront the ‘attack’ from Abarnikon. Anger began to boil but he kept a tight lid on that.

He deflected, asking, “Why did she do that? It cannot be as simple as you say.”

Abarnikon leveled his gaze, saying, “Because she was asked, and it was the easy solution to the problem. This easy solution—”

“No. You’re lying.” Erick found himself interrupting the man, “Jane wouldn’t pick the easy way if there was any other choice. Don’t lie to me about this. This is large. This is big. This is bigger than lies. Tell me the truth.”

Erick very clearly saw though his Ophiel as Otaliya flinched, and said, “Oh slag.”

“It is not a lie to say that your daughter chose the easy way out.” Abarnikon said, “The actual kill took place like this: The monster was locked down by your apprentice, Kiri Flamecrash, and by all the other forces of Spur and Ar’Frontier—”

Erick’s mouth dropped open a little, as he mouthed, ‘Ar’Frontier?’ Something had happened to Frontier? He dared not actually interrupt the prince again, though he dearly wanted to.

“—We see the news of Ar’Frontier is also upsetting.” With a small sliver of near-invisible disdain in his voice, Abarnikon said, “It seems that Mayor Silverite truly did keep you out of the circle.” He continued, “So allow me to inform you, and everyone else here of what has transpired on the Surface; the full story of the soul slime, and of the Dark Tide it produced:

“The soul slime killed all of Ar’Kendrithyst and spilled out every night to swallow the land in Darkness and fates worse than death. Frontier couldn’t handle it. They evacuated. Some of those surviving humans moved to the city of Spur.

“The threat of the soul slime was very real.

“And yet, it was allowed to exist and grow strong because it created level 95 monsters on the Surface.” Abarnikon said, “It was allowed to grow out of control because the Mayor of Spur allowed it to run out of control, because level 95 monsters made her city truly prosperous. I hear Spur even has strong ties to Songli, now, of all places.

“With those connections and with the archmages of that city, and with Erick Flatt’s apprentice, Kiri Flamecrash, it is the opinion of Stratagold that they could have killed this monster a week after the first sighting of the black ooze. But no! They allowed it to grow. And so it grew so large and it swallowed up Ar’Kendrithyst with so much soul sludge that it began to pour over the walls every night, becoming a sweeping ocean of horror that amalgamized everything it touched with everything else it had already touched. It birthed monsters more deadly than we have ever seen before.

“Even the smaller monsters were worth level 60, or higher.

“And so Silverite and her General—” Abarnikon’s voice had filled with hatred as he said ‘General’, which meant Killzone, which meant something big, but Erick had no idea what. “— allowed the problem to grow so large that, even with the thing helpless and near-dead, that no one could kill the soul slime itself before night fell. And so, your daughter killed the soul slime in the Dark’s name in order to stave off the actual kill method, which would have erased Ar’Kendrithyst from the Surface!

“Headmaster Kirginatharp was prepared to blow up the entire Dead City to kill the soul slime. He had his spells lined up. He had time to enact those spells. He was ready to cast the big one. Such a spell would have damaged the Surface for a hundred kilometers in every direction and ruined the land for years. It would have brought utter devastation to the local economy—” He almost snarled, as he said, “But like that fucking matters.” He controlled himself. He said, “This cratering outcome would have been much preferable to whatever uncertainty has happened now that the Dark took the soul slime’s Truth out of its body. The Dark will likely use that Truth to create a Shade. Perhaps another Champion, like Tania Webwalker.” He stared at Erick, “And now you understand the severity of your daughter’s choice.”

While Erick was reeling from that—

Kromolok spoke up, “But since Ar’Kendrithyst was not destroyed, it provides us with an opportunity to have a presence on the Surface. A bastion of newly cleaned-out power for we wrought. A midway point between us and all the rest of the Surface.”

Archmage Riivo spoke, “I fear you lightpaint a different image of the outcome than what we scholars would lightpaint, Prince Abarnikon. If Headmaster Kirginatharp’s spell had been allowed to happen, all we truly know is that he would have destroyed the Dead City; it is not a sure thing that he would have killed the soul slime. Four Paladins of four different gods tried to kill the thing, but they could not. Our own Paladin White attempted to [Strike] the thing while it was locked down, but his sword could not pierce the soul slime’s [Absolute Barrier]. Five different archmages. Ten different archwarriors, including the General of Spur. Decay, Void, Magma. [Luminous Beam] ten at a time. Nothing worked against the soul slime. Antirhine weaponry was similarly useless.

“The Dark even spoke of the soul slime as being the most dangerous part of Erick’s Worldly Path, so it is likely that only he could have actually killed it, and only through power which he does not yet possess.

“Through [Gate].

“It is highly likely that if Jane Flatt had not done what she had done, then she would have died in the attempt, and the soul slime would have continued to thrive, and then the sun would set and night would fill that part of the world. And then, the slime would have been able to truly fight back. The True Revelation revealed by Erick’s guard, Teressa Rednail, would have come true, and we would have a much larger problem on our hands than the Dark getting another toy to play with.”

Erick felt like he was floating. All this new information was like punch after punch. And now he was numb. How much danger had Jane been in? How much danger was she getting into up there? When would the danger end?

… And then he came back to himself.

A calm descended.

He needed to end this now.

Erick stated, “I would end this inquiry now, and move on with my Worldly Path, to solve [Gate] and to discover what has happened back in Spur on my own. I wish for the full support of Stratagold in my endeavors going forward. What say you?”

The audience wanted answers just as much as Erick did.

It seemed that Abarnikon and the rest of the inquiry board was done with this inquisition, too.

Abarnikon said, “Our support is contingent on several key factors. A list will be provided, but one will be stated right now: the Worldly Path is the most disruptive ritual on Veird, for it grows with the Walker, and you started your Path with Last Shadow’s Feast. Therefore: Complete your Path in the next two months, or find a contingent of wrought demanding you stand down. We have broken many disruptive archmages from the Worldly Path before.

“We will do it again, if we have to.”

Fine.

Fuck you.

“Heard and understood.” Erick gave a quick half-bow to the gathered inquiry board, then rose, and said, “Then I’m off. Look forward to working with you soon.”

And then he stepped off the stage and began walking away.

The audience went wild with questions, though they were still mostly wrought, so they mostly remained seated. Apparently this happened sometimes. The major players on the inquiry board excused themselves while news criers came forward and began explaining everything that Abarnikon and Kromolok had spoken of, but Erick was already moving on.

- - - -

Erick light stepped to the tunnel leading to Yggdrasil’s cavern and hit a wall.

A fog of green-black Domain lay across the entrance. It was Tasar’s Domain. Erick angrily slapped the fog—

The fog vanished.

He heard sudden voices on the other side.

Otaliya and Tasar stood on the sandy beach on the other side. It seemed Tasar could [Teleport] in the Underworld without using the t-stations. Something about that little secret being revealed now almost set Erick off again, but he quieted the volcano. He needed to get to Yggdrasil and talk to Poi and everyone else before he made any more decisions. Yes. He was close to there. He could relax.

He could deal with whatever this was.

Otaliya instantly said, “That was wrong of them to do that to you in there—”

“NO FUCKING SHIT?!” And then Erick instantly calmed, saying, “Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to blow up at you like that. Sorry.”

“Completely understandable.” Otaliya said, “No need to apologize. Usually an inquiry is rough but that was too much. If I could apologize on behalf of Stratagold I would, but I cannot. I don’t know why he did that—”

Sitnakov and Abarnikon stepped off of the t-station at the other end of the beach.

Erick breathed deep as he locked eyes with Abarnikon. Then he yelled, “Fuck you!”

Otaliya whipped around and saw who was coming their way. Tasar tensed, but remained silent.

The two princes kept walking Erick’s way, not even breaking stride.

Erick yelled again, “They all said it would be a test of character, but what the FUCK was that SHIT? I don’t know what the fuck is happening in Spur! And you spring that up on me now?! Fuck you!”

Abarnikon spoke as he walked closer, “You were going to find out as soon as you left, but we all found out earlier while you were sitting on that bench. It was a confluence of Fate Magic, of the Worldly Path, and certain things needed to happen on our end as news of the timing would have gotten around just as fast as the news itself. It was decided to question you there and then in order to get your un[Cleanse]d reaction to the news, and to also remain in control of a rapidly developing situation.” He stopped meters away from Erick. He loomed like only an orcol could loom; gorgeous and deadly at the same time. “Which brings us to here. What do you think the Dark wanted with the soul slime’s Truth? Is it a new Champion? Or is this the start of the spread of a new monster into the world? Melemizargo specifically said ‘Something to go along with this new world your father is forging’. So this means you are involved.”

Erick felt whiplash as every single thing about Abarnikon, from his stance to his non threatening appearance, was completely at odds with the man Erick had seen back in that inquiry stadium. That other Abarnikon was a powerful dictator in his place of power. This Abarnikon was a politician, and deeply troubled.

And it all seemed like an act, like this was who Abarnikon had to be to remain in power in a world full of immortals. This guy was truly different from Sitnakov, wasn’t he? Sitnakov was a battle junkie. Abarnikon got off on… Not control, but on bureaucracy.

Oh. Gods.

Erick understood Abarnikon, loathed Abarnikon, and realized that Otaliya’s words about ‘let the Heavies do what they want and then work around them’ was some top-tier advice.

Erick spent all of half a second thinking over Abarnikon’s question, then said, “If it’s supposed to be complementary then it has to be a mana maker. It was soul magic, right? So maybe it’s going to sunder all the souls in Ar’Kendrithyst. Or maybe Melemizargo will make a bunch of Creation Wizard Slimes! Free mana for days! Or maybe it’s something else! Fuck if I know.”

Not a single nearby person thought Erick’s words were anything less than prescient; Erick was a bit pissed off at that.

Tasar and Otaliya’s eyes went wide. Sitnakov scowled.

Abarnikon lightly breathed, then said, “Ah. We had thought that was a possibility. Low, yet possible. It will have to be moved up the list.”

Sitnakov scoffed at his brother, saying, “Why would he do such a thing! That makes no sense! He can’t just make Wizards can he? If he could, he would have done so long before now.”

Everyone except Otaliya tried to talk at once, but Erick’s voice came out on top, “I’m leaving! Packing my bags and having a nice long chat with Spur and then I’m fucking off to Oceanside to solve the Forever War, or some shit like that. You all can debate this crap on your own.”

Abarnikon pivoted, “If you’re not going directly to Spur then you should stay here for another day while we sort out this mess and decide what it all means. That inquiry was what it had to be, Erick. It was a personal attack and you passed through the storm injured, but not broken. It is not good for you to engage in the Forever War as upset as you are.”

“Oh oh oh! You mistake my intentions, Abarnikon!” Erick said, “I’m half a mind to join up with the Headmaster and find out a way to enact his plan to destroy both Hell and Celes unless those two sides can finally get along. I am done with the Quiet War bullshit and that fucking barb inside the inquiry was the last time I ever want to have anyone question me about this shit ever again.

“I am very glad I killed Bulgan. Yes, people who piss me off personally deserve what they get. It’s a personal fault, so what!

“I will not allow the Quiet War to ever affect me ever again.

“I would rather see billion billion already dead people finally die their last death than muck up whatever is happening here on Veird one more time.” Erick added, “Cause mark my words: the problem will only grow if the problem is allowed to exist once we open up new worlds.

“And then! When I’m done with those assholes! I’m going to solve this dragon shit in the Forest of Glaquin, and probably end up getting [Gate] there, too. One way or another, this world will have stability, and I’m also going to wring the solution to anti-apocalypse magic out of FAIRY MOON!—” he yelled at the air. “And then this world will finally have true stability. Now are you with me? Or are you bystanders?”

Otaliya rapidly turned to Tasar and took her daughter’s hand, saying, “I love you. You stay safe.” She said to Erick, “A pleasure meeting you.” After a quick yet respectful nod to Abarnikon and Sitnakov she scampered off toward the t-station.

Abarnikon glanced around. Sitnakov was on high alert, too, but in a much more easy-going sort of way. He was ready to throw down if Fairy Moon should show. Abarnikon was apparently a bit scared, though he was very good at not showing it. Tasar was scared, too, but in a calm sort of way, where everything passed her by and she was ready to kill if needed. She didn’t have her black staff or her summons out, but she could summon it to her hand whenever it was needed.

Otaliya blipped away through the t-station, leaving the beach behind.

Abarnikon finally spoke, “You shouldn’t call her name like that. She could take it to mean you are offering Hospitality Rites, and she will take advantage of this when you assault Ar’Cosmos.”

He meant well.

It was condescending, but he meant well.

Honestly, Erick’s whole experience with the wrought had been one mistimed or mishandled bit of help after the next. From fighting with Sitnakov in the Core, to seeing how they did things with runic webs, to the shit with Kydyr trying to get Erick and the wrought onto a misunderstanding of guilt. Everything was trying to make them fight each other…

But the wrought did not want to fight other good people.

And Erick didn’t either.

It was a fucking conspiracy of the Worldly Path, for sure.

And the subtle patronizing did not help.

“…Thank you for your words of wisdom. I will take them as the honest help that they were offered.” Erick said, “But I already know that about Fairy Moon and about the fae. And [Gate] requires Fae Magic, I’m sure, so who better to learn of [Gate] than from the only remaining True Fae of Veird?”

Tasar mumbled nervously, “There’s a second fae, but that thing is barely fae.”

Erick was trying not to be short, so he corrected himself, “—who better to learn [Gate] from than one of the only two True Fae left on Veird? And besides: I’m going to have to talk to her sooner or later, and it will need to be a large talk, with unintended words said somewhere in all that will transpire. Anything she wants to take in a different manner in which it was offered, will be taken. I know what the fae are like. And yet: Since Fairy Moon has not accepted my invitation, then I can just do this:” He spoke with power, “I rescind your Invitation, Fairy Moon. You have spurned me too many times. If you wish to reopen communications then you may contact me through zero-magic letters left in obvious-for-me locations.”

Fairy Moon said, “You cannot rescind your invitation!”

Ah. So she was here already.

Okay.

The calm of battle descended upon Erick.

The white human-looking woman stood to the side, wearing a no-frills business dress in pink and white and a bit of green. She was also not there in person. Some little firefly-like bug floated in the center of Fairy Moon’s torso, projecting the woman’s image into the air. Or maybe that was a fairy lie, too.

Erick rapidly declared, “Everyone calm the fuck down. Abarnikon, get Kromolok on the line. Sitnakov, shut the fuck up. Tasar, with me. No one else is to show. Let us have this discussion now, too.”

A flurry of half-movements and spell preparation suddenly halted. The battlefield redrew with Tasar at Erick’s left, Sitnokov four meters to Erick’s right, and Abarnikon two meters beyond that. They faced the shore, and Fairy Moon who stood upon that shore like a statue made of alabaster marble. Yggdrasil rose in the far distance like a green and rainbow mountain.

This might not have been Fairy Moon, but…

Erick was absolutely sure this was Fairy Moon, if she wanted it to be.

She just wasn’t sure if she wanted to be here in person, yet.

Fairy Moon lightly glared as she stood her full height, which still made her shorter than everyone else on the beach. Her voice was that of weighty judgment, “We will come to terms or we will terminate this convocation, and it shall never again be realized; I wasn’t getting anywhere with Kromolok anyway and Rozeta was even less helpful.”

She had started off with fae-speak, her words laying the stage for power and presence, but she rapidly shifted to normal words.

Erick said, “The decrease in lacing of power in your words is heard and realized. Thank you for that.”

Erick had purposefully thanked the fae. This was a cardinal rule to avoid when dealing with the fae; never thank them, they could use it as an invitation to take whatever they wanted as recompense for your gratitude.

Erick knew this. Fairy Moon knew this. Tasar and Abarnikon and Sitnakov all showed various signs of stress at what they thought was Erick’s casual ‘thanks’. But Erick was not acting casual at all, and he had given his thanks as a specific test.

For he was willing to bet that in that moment that he could break any magical shit Fairy Moon tried to pull, even if it broke him in turn. He was beyond angry, and he knew that he needed a [Renew] cycle, but he was beyond caring about weak ass shit like the magic of other people, and especially those who held themselves up as some sort of arbiter of justice.

Bah!

Fairy Moon recognized the test, and said, “This neutral ground is lovely for a conversation about Fate and the future of this world, and all the rest. I thank you in turn, Erick Flatt, in the hopes of a brighter future to come.”

Kromolok stepped off of the t-station at the other end of the beach and began walking to the party with methodical, yet quick steps.

Erick began the discussion without the Inquisitor. “It is my understanding that you, Fairy Moon, know of a way to prevent the rise of apocalyptic magic through the use of Fate Magic. Can you prove this claim made of you by Melemizargo?”

“Such a wonder would require Fate freed from its box.”

Erick narrowed his eyes.

Fairy Moon gave a regal shrug, saying, “Great magic follows great words. Speak of small spells if you wish, but only through true talk can creation be made manifest.”

“… Is it possible to have a working relationship, or are you magically, physically, or otherwise unable to come to the table on a level that we can all appreciate?” Erick added, “Earlier I said that your decrease in power of words was a good thing. And now you revert so easily.”

Fairy Moon gave a barely imperceptible frown.

Kromolok said, “She is unable. She is fae.”

Erick frowned.

Yeah. She was fae, wasn’t she. Literally incapable—

Fairy Moon narrowed her eyes. “The whims of mortals do not sway ancient power. I am who I am, and no other. I am deigning myself as much as I am able.”

“You could do more,” Kromolok said.

Fairy Moon gained an edge of rage as she stated, “Do you know how hard it is to deal with mortals? No! You do not!” She listed the people from Erick’s left to right. “Tasar, 780 years old. Erick, 49. Sitnakov, 1235. Abarnikon, 1335. Kromolok, 1437. You are all so very young. Even Rozeta is only a few thousand years old. Melemizargo is only 15,000 or something. I don’t care to know the details. I never needed to know the details before Veird! Before I was trapped here for all time because of the Script! Life used to be free and wonderful.

“I’m over a million fucking years old, you little shits.

“You play at justice and you play at honor and you play at power. You know nothing of power. You know nothing of great wonders and beauty and truth and JUSTICE.” Fairy Moon said, “So yes! I look down upon you! When you are gone I will still be here. You are the grains of sand upon the beach of which I live; uncountable and worthless! I am larger than the Dark! I was there dipping my fingers into the Original Dark, back when that eldritch cosmos first crafted life from a stupid planar who fell off a Path and into your Old Cosmology.

“I have traveled universes! I have seen stars born and die! I have seen petty tyrants such as you grasping for power across all of my existence! And you ask me if I am unable to comprehend life at your scale? Bah!

“You are unable to comprehend life at my scale!”

“I can comprehend you just fine,” Erick said, without hesitation. He gave Fairy Moon no room to reorient as he instantly continued, “We just have different ways of existing, and that’s fine, but I need you to come down to our level and help sort this problem of mana in this New Cosmology, and the rise of new anti-apocalypse magic. I already know you’re capable of such because there is absolutely no way that justice has remained the same all throughout every universe. Justice is personal, to both a person and to a society. It is not something as large as the concept of Light or Dark. It is as nuanced as Illusion and Fae.”

Fairy Moon paused, then looked at Erick, and said, “Justice changes all the time, but certain parts of it remain true, always. And…” She juggled something in her mind, then just came out with it, saying, “This is the secret to anti-Apocalypse Magic. Fate Magic, Time Magic, Life Magic and Death Magic and a Confluence of Pure Demand, along with an Infection of Fae Understanding; these are the components of anti-apocalypse.

“But telling you that is like telling a red soul the concept of blue; impossible, for the basic Understandings are not there. Such a working requires the mending of magic! The un-Banning of [______]—”

She spoke, and Erick heard nothing.

He ignored the blood dripping down from his left ear.

“— which is something that you metal men will never do!” Fairy Moon stared at Erick with glowing eyes of pink and green and white. “But maybe you can. Prove to me that this talk is not a waste of willpower. Prove your providence, that even in this mutated mana, in this world of Darkness and a dearth of Light, that your yearning has brought you the answer to Always.”

Erick had a moment of insight.

And then that insight blossomed into a spiral of thoughts.

Something had bothered him when Fairy Moon spoke of her age. She claimed to have witnessed the birth of the Old Cosmology. But that was crazy. Too crazy to believe. She must have seen the rise and fall of countless Gods of Magic, like Melemizargo, and also Melemizargo’s mother who came before. But to live that long then one must have been truly strong and lucky, or have some specific skills that allowed one to avoid utter catastrophe. (Time Magic was also a solution to this conundrum, but that felt hollow to Erick.)

She had escaped to Veird during the Sundering, after all, and then survived this long; to outlive all the other fae who fell to Veird, and then to outlive all the other fae who could not hack it in this New Cosmology, where all magic was governed by the Script.

So Fairy Moon had changed who she was to survive. She came out on top.

All the other fae, except for one other, died.

Or perhaps… Perhaps all the other fae escaped while they could. But Fairy Moon had stayed behind…

But she just said she was trapped. So what did that mean?

Was she physically trapped?

Erick felt a swell of something inside, as he quietly asked, “Did all the other fae die, or did they leave?”

“They’ll come back when they can.” Fairy Moon stared at Erick; one eye blazing pink like a strange sunset and the other neon green as radioactive springtime. “But I am here because I have to be.”

She meant that yes, they did die, but also that they would come back when they were allowed to come back. Erick felt a profound sense of something to the side of loss, as he studied at Fairy Moon.

Nothing was truly lost in the mana. It was only locked behind Bans and Forgotten Campaigns. Were the other fae like this? Lost behind a Ban too old to change? Yes; Erick already knew this. The fae had died off in the enacting of the Script. But he didn’t truly understand what that meant.

Fairy Moon didn’t act like they were truly gone, though. She wasn’t someone who had lost everything, like all the other immortals from the Old Cosmology. She didn’t fall to despair like Melemizargo, or all the other immortals who died off after the Old Cosmology collapsed. She couldn’t do that. For she was the last watcher left on duty while everyone else ‘took a break’. She was the one trying to free them, too, but not very hard because her timescale was all fucked up compared to everyone else’s. So what if they’d been dead for 1436 years, according to the calendar for the current year, Post Sundering? That much time was nothing to her.

Or at least that was how Fairy Moon saw it.

And yet, the other fae were truly dead. But it was also quite possible that fae never truly died.

Not unless they were Banned and put into a box, never to see the Light ever again.

In the corner of his eyes Erick saw Kromolok glance his way.

Erick might have some of the particulars wrong, but he had most of them right.

Erick turned his full attention back to Fairy Moon. Barely two seconds had passed, and though he was still angry at the inquiry, he could compartmentalize that anger for now. For the greater good.

Erick said, “Thank you for staying after the Sundering. When all the other true travelers went on to wherever, you remained here to remind Veird of what was vanished from collective consciousness. I don’t know what it was called before, but if I were to Name the Power that you call Fate and Time and Life and Death, in a Confluence of Demand, and an Infection of Fae Understanding…” Erick said, “I would name it Elemental Benevolence.”

Fairy Moon’s eyes had gone wide at Erick’s second ‘thanks’, but when he named a new Power she was absolutely beaming. Her skin even seemed brighter. And it was her skin, for she was there, with them, on that beach. She smiled, and it was as though the world lit up brighter.

“Ah. Yes.” A tear rolled. “A new name for a new age. It works. Or it will work once we use one of our Wizards to weave that working. In order to thank me properly, though, you can come to Ar’Cosmos and benefit from our own benevolence whenever you find yourself at our bit of the Old Cosmology.”

For a hot second Erick was worried, but then nothing happened.

Kromolok looked worried, but also hopeful. Abarnikon seemed full of plots and worries, but he also had a deep desire to kill Fairy Moon if she should step out of line. Sitnakov just wanted to kill the fae; but he was smart enough not to say or start shit right then. Erick was glad to see that.

Tasar was simply quiet, with her eyes and mana sense focused on all corners of the world, searching for any inkling of shenanigans from Fairy Moon. Erick was sure there was something happening behind the fae’s green and pink eyes, but nothing came to the forefront.

Erick said, “I will eventually take you up on that offer, but not today, and not until other necessities are observed and solved.”

“Then till we meet again, young Flatt.” Fairy Moon said, “You have my thanks in turn.”

Erick felt a great sense of relief at that—

Fairy Moon stepped backward—

Gone.

She was gone, just like that. Even the firefly-thing that had projected her image into the air was gone, too, though Erick was pretty sure that everything that he had seen was Fae Magic, anyway. Who’s to say what was what, when reality had been supplanted the individual Reality of Fae Magic.

Erick breathed out a little, then he said to Abarnikon and Kromolok, “That went well. Better than the inquiry. You all work on Elemental Benevolence, or whatever.” Erick breathed deep again, then he took a step forward, saying, “I’m going to Yggdrasil to pack—”

He stepped into a [Gate] of pink and green.

The world dissolved into color as something reached into Erick’s mind and pulled out all his thoughts, leaving him bare to the world, as a massive clawed hand of pink scales and white claws reached forward and grabbed him, snatching him, pulling him deeper into a swirling tunnel of pastel springtime.

Tasar yelled. Black and green shadows swirled into springtime, trying to rip it apart.

A black wind flowed into the tunnel, following fast. A black hand reached for Erick but a pink tail slapped the hand away. Sitnakov roared bloody murder as the [Gate] shut on his arm— But it didn’t snap the black forearm from its owner.

The world was a tunnel of pink and white and the barest green, but with a single spot of black, a single hand reaching into forever. A second hand slipped in beside the first and pried—

Black and green shadows followed Erick, widening the tunnel, spreading it open. Sitnakov raced forward like a half-invisible darkness. Ophiels followed, sharp-feathered and full of fury.

Fairy Moon screamed from the back of the pink dragon to hurry. The dragon was a young one for sure, at only ten meters long, but their two forward arms held Erick tight against their sinuous body as the springtime tunnel began to collapse into black and green shadows, and brilliant shafts of [Luminous Beam]s.

Compared to his usual self, Erick barely understood what was happening. He tried to touch his mana—

Fairy Moon yelled something.

A massive red dragon, like a snake made of lava, flowed out of springtime and into the black-green shadows. Fire and carnage and light erupted in the tunnel. And then, all Erick could think was that the shadows were falling too far behind, that the light was too slow, that it was weird to want shadows to save him.

Jane would be okay, right? Surely—

Springtime claimed him.