The Crystal Forest disappeared with one more white blip, as Erick reappeared on the flat orange land of the Human District, a hundred feet from his house. Teressa let go of his hand, hefting a three-foot long tarp-covered object in her other arm; the giant yellow grand-rad they had gotten from the eyebeam wyrm. She carried almost every camping supply they had brought with them in her massive backpack, but Erick was still weighed down. His own pack had been rearranged to contain everything that was headed toward the Adventurer’s Guildhouse; it was quite heavy, with hundreds of gold wrapped up tight so as not to jangle, and lots of minor magical items that someone might be able to recharge.
A sapphire blue blip revealed Rats and Poi, twenty feet away.
Teressa walked toward the house, laden with the grand-rad and camping supplies. After Poi transferred his own pack to Rats, Rats followed her, carrying his and Poi’s packs toward the house.
Rats turned around, waving. “See you later.”
Teressa gave a small wave behind her, as she too walked into the house.
Poi stepped toward Erick. “To the Adventurer’s Guildhouse?”
Erick breathed in the air of Spur. It smelled like stone and wind, and dry; it smelled like home. Erick smiled, then said, “Yup.”
“I should warn you, that the Champion did her battle with Planter yesterday. You will probably be expected to hand off whatever treasure you agreed to make either today or tomorrow.”
“Really? That soon? Good.” Erick smiled, checking the Kill and Exterminate Quest, and yup, Planter’s name was gone. “How’d it go?”
Streamers of intent connected Poi to other people, as he said, “I’m just getting the updates now—” He paused. He said, “They had… quite a lot of difficulty. Three of them died. And hundreds of others.” He added, “It was quite bad. Jane would want to talk to you about that, and about what comes next.”
Erick felt a sudden chill. He lost his smile. The weight of his pack seemed heavier, filled as it was with the possessions of the dead. Erick said, “Let’s get this stuff to the guildhouse for the Fund, first.”
Poi nodded.
- - - -
Quite a lot of people walked through the Adventurer’s District from one location to the next, from lunch to armorer, or alchemist to home. So many people, all of them walking in so many different directions. There was a slowdown of traffic into the Adventurer’s Guildhouse ancient forest land, but Erick eventually made it to the front door, through the crowds inside, to step up to the teller behind the counter.
Paril was on duty today; the tealscale dragonkin who registered Erick for his adventuring badge.
“Hello there, Archmage Flatt.” Paril asked, “Did your hunt go well?”
“Yes.” Erick pulled out the generic paper for the quest, filled out with details of the hunt, then slid it across the marble divide, under the metal bars, saying, “Eyebeam wyrm, singular grand rad, meter long.” The truthstone behind the counter, at Paril’s side, glowed green. Her eyes went a little wide as Erick said, “I have 17 guildbadges to turn in, and this loot to place into the Fund.” Erick unslung the pack from his back—
Paril said, “Please do not take those out here. We do not deal in treasure or the acceptance of lost badges at this window.” She put on a cheerful face, asking, “Eyebeam wyrm? Was it yellow?”
Erick put his backpack back on, saying, “Yes. Bright yellow.”
Paril frowned as she pulled out a small folder from behind the counter and set it in front of herself. She opened it, revealing perfectly realistic drawings of various monsters; most of them looking like wyrms, but some of them were not. The only ones Erick understood, as Paril flipped through papers revealing other body horrors like the wyrm, was a red dog-like monster and a blue bat-like maybe-snake, before Paril flipped over to the yellow eyebeam wyrm. She laid the paper in front of Erick, asking, “Is this the monster you killed?”
The image was mostly the same. Maybe there were slight differences. Maybe not?
Poi said, “Yes. That’s the one.”
“That’s the one,” Erick agreed.
The truthstone glowed green for Poi, but pale pink for Erick.
Paril looked at Erick.
“I’m not exactly sure. It probably is.”
Poi said, “It is.”
Green for Poi, and now green for Erick, too; that was good enough for Paril. “This update to the known monsters of the Crystal Forest came through yesterday.” Paril said, touching the folder of monsters. “A few people in Vindin are going to be very happy that you killed that wyrm. As for yourself: you are now 500 gold richer,” Paril moved the sheet of paper with the yellow wyrm on it to the side. “Quite a bit more than the 250 gold for a 4 star wyrm. Your yellow wyrm was 5 stars, but it should have been 6, if you recovered seventeen badges. Unfortunately, you can blame this lack of 6 stars on Vindin; they’re notoriously stingy with properly identifying threats. And because of that, unfortunately, we only pay out on the difficulty set forth on the quest, not what you may have actually encountered.” She said, “Your own badge, please. How would you like to be paid? If you want gold, it will take a day.”
She spoke so professionally about death and danger, that she unnerved Erick. But, he reflected, this was the world he lived in. He was going to hunt more wyrms, for sure. Just to prevent more tragedy like this.
Erick handed over his badge, saying, “Put four hundred of the gold into the Fund, and the rest into direct deposit. Where should I take this stuff? Which is also for the Fund.”
Paril smiled, taking his badge and quickly filling out her paperwork, writing upon Erick’s paper and the paper of the yellow wyrm, saying, “Thank you very much, Archmage Flatt, for your dedication to the cause. I’d get someone to escort you to deposit your loot, but Mog is standing right behind you; I think she wants to take over from here.” She handed him back his badge.
Erick took his badge and turned around, smiling. Mog was as muscular and beautiful as Erick remembered, in her usual brown leathers with teal accents; her Guildmaster outfit. People at other windows eyed Mog, but kept on with their own business. Mog was not smiling.
Mog said, “Hey. Come with me.” She turned to Poi. “You’re aware he has tails on him, aren’t you?”
Long-suffering Poi, said, “Yes, Guildmaster. All of them are keeping their distance.”
Erick froze. Then he lied, “I’m aware as well.”
Mog looked to Erick, smirking. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“… Yeah. I was never good at it.”
Mog said, “Come on; this way.”
- - - -
In a private room beside the receptionist area, on a smaller table covered in soft green fabric, Erick set out the seventeen badges they had retrieved from the body of the yellow wyrm. A blue-skinned incani woman named Owlin took down the numbers on the badges, touching each badge reverentially as she did, while Erick set out the rest of the loot they had retrieved on a larger, dented table, that looked used to this sort of thing. Mog watched the whole ordeal. When Owlin was done with the badges and began moving onto the loot, she thanked Erick for his donations. Erick left before they finished counting it all up; he didn’t need to know how much it was.
With his pack now empty, Mog took Erick up to a private booth on the third floor, away from prying eyes, and bought him a drink.
“Congratulations on the kill. I read up on the yellow wyrm.” Mog sipped her beer, saying, “That should have been classified as a 6 star threat. How’d you kill it?”
“From very far away and with as little danger to myself as possible.” Erick said, “I’m going to keep killing wyrms when I can, and probably the same way.” He asked, “Do you have any other mindless targets that need to not be a problem anymore?”
Mog’s face did several happy things. She smiled, her eyes lit up. She sighed, and then, with a slight tilt and running a hand through her short black hair, she said, “You know just what to say to a girl, don’t you?” She dropped her hand to the table, her lower fangs flashing a little, as she added, “I have lots of targets like that, yes.”
She was beautiful.
Back on Earth, the solution to this situation was painfully obvious, but this was not Earth.
“Sooo?” Erick added a bit of his own flirt, enough that anyone looking would have trouble identifying it as a flirt, as he asked, “What happens next?”
Mog laughed a sigh, saying, “Unfortunately, while I like such an open ended question from you, work comes first: I’ve had a chance to talk to Yetta; she’ll tell you what she wants from you. Her attack on Ar’Kendrithyst went about as well as could be expected. Three of them died; Yetta and the only living prince of Odaali survived. They only survived because of your daughter. In total, ten Shades are dead. Melemizargo was summoned at the end of it all, but as insane gods sometimes do, all he did was leave.” She said, “The adventuring community is booming; much too large to be safe for any of us. So I urge you, when people come to you and speak of killing Shades, asking you to give them a quest, too, listen to the horror stories people rescued from the Dead City will tell you, and keep in mind that poking a wyrms' nest sometimes drops treasure, but it usually just drops wyrms.”
Erick felt an anger rise, subtle but furious. He calmed himself before saying, “We should kill them all.”
Mog smiled softly, saying, “Again. I urge you to understand, from many more sources than just I, that to do this would be to invite destruction upon us all. The remaining Shades are the most powerful ones of the Dead City, and they’re changing everything inside of their walls. They’re conquering and absorbing the lairs of their former comrades, expanding their powers, growing even stronger than they were before.”
Erick stared at Mog. For such a tall muscular woman, she appeared unusually soft right now. Erick breathed, then said, “You’re right. I don’t have any idea of what happened in there. Or what would happen, if we got more agressive."
Mog relaxed. “Thank you.” She sat a bit straighter, and said, “As for killing this yellow wyrm, you’re cleared for 6 star quests, now. I do have more targets for you; mindless disasters that need to die that no one can really get near. But you have a promise to keep with Yetta about Odaali, do you not?”
Erick said, "I do.”
Mog nodded, then waterfall’ed the rest of her beer. She smiled as she stood up, setting the empty beer mug on the table, saying, “I’ll have a list when you get back, dear Archmage.” She added, “You should probably [Teleport] home. We have some uninvited guests into our conversation that need a lesson in civility.” She cracked her knuckles, then vanished in a colorless splash of air.
A loud BOOM rocked the side of the guildhouse. The entire front room went quiet for a brief moment, before people started rushing for the front door, talking loudly, asking about what happened.
Erick immediately turned to Poi, “What the fuck, Poi? We were being followed?”
Poi stared at Erick. “You’re being followed ninety percent of the time you’re out and about on the town, sir. I would have told Guildmaster Mog to ignore them, but it is not my place. She might know more about those specific people than I.” He added, “And you do lie horribly. You would have given away that we were being followed, and thus deny me the opportunity to vet our stalkers as zero-threat. Which I did.”
“… I would like to know when we’re being followed, from now on. I can keep a straight face.”
“Very well, sir.”
“How are you vetting them, anyway?”
Poi said, “It’s a combination of [Scry], [Ultrasight], [Identify], and a few other abilities, such as [Sense Intent].”
Erick hummed.
Poi said, “And just so you’re aware, it is hard to defend you when you lie to me. So please, in the future, refrain from lying to any of Teressa, Rats, or I, about things such as you getting much more than 1% Participation from a monster kill—”
Erick winced.
“—Because Phagar is a perfectly acceptable god to worship. Considering your history and personal accomplishments, it would be completely normal for him to accept your kills as necessary and prudent, and to even award you full Participation.”
“… Oh?”
Poi frowned a little. “You’ve been getting full Participation for a while, haven’t you?”
“… Yes. I just… I didn’t want to look weird. You’ve already complained about that.”
“That's not a problem. What is odd —but still not a problem— is that you got a fake kill box.” Poi said, “But I’m not going to ask after that, or any other casual oddities. What is a problem, is that casual lies could start a trend which could lead to something terrible happening because of conflicting information. I would never lie to you, sir; it would irrevocably damage my credibility as a resource for your protection, and for the protection of Spur’s own future. I would hope for the same from you, for much the same reason.”
Erick smiled, softly. “Heard loud and clear, Poi. Sorry.”
Poi simply nodded.
Jane’s voice cut into Erick’s mind, ‘Hey! Dad! I heard you’re back. Let’s meet at the house. Yetta and I want to talk.’
‘See you there.’ Erick briefly turned on [Perfect Hearing], listening to the growing argument outside. He asked Poi, “Who were our followers, anyway?”
“Business men from Portal, who I distracted by informing the nearby guard, but who appear to be painfully pushy.” Poi listened to the air, over the noise of the guildhouse. “Very pushy.”
Erick instantly said, “We’re [Teleport]ing home.”
- - - -
Erick and Poi blipped onto the orange stone outside of his house.
Jane stood at the front door, wearing her normal around-town clothes. Her shoes from Earth, pants and an airy tunic; perfect for the desert weather of Spur. Her hair was pulled back into a clip, and she was smiling. They both walked toward each other, and met in a hug. Erick held his daughter; she was warm and healthy, and most importantly: she was okay.
Erick softly said, “I heard a little about what happened, but not nearly enough.”
Jane laughed into Erick’s shoulder, saying, “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” She pulled away.
Erick let her go, saying, “Did you get a chance to test the harmony between two Force spells? I’m working on the pieces for [Tracker’s Instincts] to work my way up to [Hunter’s Instincts] using this method.”
Jane smiled wide, saying, “That’s a very good ability to have, dad; I use it all the time. But I haven’t done much tier work. We’ve got a lot to talk about until Yetta and Cyril get here later.” She walked to the house, saying, “Let’s go inside.”
- - - -
Jane made good coftea; roasting the leaves just right, filling the kitchen with that wonderful caramalized bitter coffee scent. Erick had missed her coftea. He had missed her. They’d only been fifteen miles apart for a month, and they talked almost every day, but it was still difficult knowing that she was in danger all the time and there was nothing that he could do to help her.
Finding out about the harmonies possible between different magics was something he felt could be very important to her success; to her ability to fight the monsters and survive on Veird. But she brushed him off twice now, redirecting the conversation in some other direction, or cutting off conversation entirely. She likely had a very good reason for this, and she seemed to be gearing up for an involved and troubling talk, if her meandering and quiet words around the kitchen were any indication.
Jane cut up cheese and bread on the kitchen counter, while Erick sipped coftea, sitting at the kitchen table, listening to the chop-chop-chop of the knife meeting the cutting board, waiting for Jane to start talking. She almost started a few times, her mouth opening, but she stopped; her words didn’t seem to want to come out.
So, Erick started, “Hunting for wyrms is pretty nice; until you meet the ones that can cut through a [Force Wall] with their thousand [Force Beam]s. I ended up killing it with a swarm of [Conjure Force Elemental]s. I still got a long ways to level all the parts necessary for [Tracker’s Instincts], but the first trial of my new insight with the harmonies of magic is going to be a [Familiar] spell. When I get all of that together, I think I’ll hunt as many wyrms as I can.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“We found seventeen adventurer badges inside the wyrm we killed; so they’re yet another monster that needs to die.”
Jane listened, but kept her mouth tightly closed. She brought the cheese platter to the table and set it between Erick and herself, as she sat down.
Erick waited for her to speak, but she didn’t.
Jane only ever got like this one other time; when she told Erick that she got accepted to her CIA internship, and that she was going forward with her plan to become an international special agent. Her telling him she was joining Spur’s Army was easier for her than this.
Erick was starting to worry, but he shoved that emotion down hard so it wouldn't consume his every thought.
He continued, “Do I need to put up anti-spying measures for this?”
Jane froze. She slowly nodded.
Erick flashed out a pair of [Ward]s to cut off the kitchen from the rest of the spying world; one [Visual Distortion Ward], transforming everything outside of the kitchen into a Picasso painting seen through terrible TV reception, the other a [Sound Distortion Ward], making the rest of the world a static-filled void. Poi, Teressa, and Rats were already elsewhere; they had vacated the area to give Jane and Erick some privacy.
Erick started, “We should be safe now—”
Jane blurted out, “The Shades used your quest, and the Champion’s Kill and Exterminate Quest, to cull their own; they killed eight Shades, I killed one. When Yetta and her team killed Planter, the Shades trapped her, Cyril, Basil, and Dorthy, into a giant statue in order to summon Melemizargo from the Underworld. Allan had already given his life to kill Planter. I ended up talking to Melemizargo, directly, as a spider. There was a very tense conversation for me, but for the Dark Dragon, I think he thought he was teaching a child about magic. He sang a song of [Shadowalk], vibrating the manasphere, and I sang with him, transforming my [Shadowalk] into [Greater Shadowalk].” Jane handed Erick the box for [Greater Shadowalk].
Greater Shadowalk, instant, long range, 10 MP per second + Variable ~{Favored Spell}~
You are the everlasting night.
Jane continued, “Tania Webwalker is Melemizargo’s Champion. She knows that you sang a song to Melemizargo, and both she and he said that they liked that song. The purpose to summoning Melemizargo this time, was so that Melemizargo, restored to more sanity than he has had in centuries because he has been watching us, Dad, would be to remove some of the insanity that he has leaked into his Shades.
“The Shades twist people into musical instruments, they infect adventurers with parasites, they send shadelings out into the world to tell people that Yetta killed ten Shades and that Ar’Kendrithyst is ripe for the picking so that more people will come to them, so that they can work even worse horrors upon the world.
“I want to murder every single one of them, Dad. One was not enough.” Jane stressed, “They all need to die, but we are not strong enough. I saw their true power, and it was worse than I imagined. I am not strong enough. You are not strong enough. I don’t think anything less than a full worldly coalition could actually kill them all, but even that would fail against Melemizargo. And he said that Rozeta is his daughter.”
Erick listened.
When Jane was finished, he collected his thoughts for a minute. She ate cheese and bread, waiting for him to say something.
Erick eventually said, “I did not know most of that, and it’s good to know, but it doesn’t change my plans. I want to kill them all, too. I’ve been talking to a lot of people here and there, trying to gauge the best way to tackle the situation—”
Jane relaxed. She grinned, as she put some cheese onto some bread and ate it.
“—Silverite is fully against truly standing up to the Shades; she’s seen the horror of a Great Purge. Her actions to kill the Shades without care led to the destruction of Spur a hundred and four years ago. Killzone is against killing all the Shades, as far as I know, and I'm not sure why. Mog and Zago are against murdering the Shades, though I’m not sure about any of their real motivations, either. But ‘We don’t want Spur and our families to die’ is a pretty darn good motivation, if you ask me.” Erick said, “Anhelia— you know her? She’s a receptionist at the Mage Guild; she’s the information broker of Spur. She has a direct lineage out of Kendrithyst, back before Melemizargo killed the city and turned it into what it is today. She’s fully for killing every single Shade as well as the Dark Dragon himself, but I’m not sure how to use her as a resource to accomplish this goal. Anhelia has said, however, that if I and her wanted to go Shade hunting, we could do so, and we could probably work through the whole of them, killing them in secret or what have you. I’m not sure what her plans were exactly. But we can’t really do that… because of the reprisal.” Erick stopped, because Jane looked like she had something she wanted to say.
Jane said, “My magic changed, Dad.”
“Show me?”
Jane grinned, as she cast out a [Prestidigitation]. Her hand flickered with mightnight blue light.
Erick said, “It looks like midnight—” He paused. He asked, “Is that why Killzone is so dark? Did the Shades try and fail to do something to him, too?”
Jane laughed loud. She said, “I love you, dad.” She added, "And Killzone is just black... I think."
“I love you too, Jane.”
Jane looked at the midnight glow around her hand, saying, “They did fail, didn’t they.”
“Of course they did!” Erick asked, “Do you want to see what battling a wyrm looked like, for me?”
Jane threaded [Telepathy] to him, sending, ‘Show me.’
Erick started in on the cheese and bread as he showed Jane the fight against the yellow wyrm. She added telepathic commentary here and there about what she was seeing versus what Erick had seen. It didn’t take Erick long to realize, for about the hundredth time, that Jane was a supreme fighter; Erick himself had a long way to go to get on her level.
And then Jane showed Erick images from her time guiding the Champion through Ar’Kendrithyst.
Erick watched, horrified beyond the vast majority of many words, unable to eat, only speaking during her tale to let her know that he was fully listening, and to say, at the end, “They all need to die,” and, “We’re not strong enough.”
“I don’t think it’s possible to actually harm them if they’re prepared.” Jane said, “Porter only died because I surprised him in a very specific position, I doubt that would ever happen again. Planter only died because a god demanded his death, and because his death was part of the Shades’ plans. All the rest were murdered by their own, but I doubt that any of them were that much weaker than Planter.”
Erick said, “We shouldn’t move against them right now, anyway.”
“I agree.” Jane looked to the air as another thread of intent connected her to someone else. She said, “Yetta and Cyril are coming over now.”
Erick asked, “Any idea what Stat items they want?”
“Not sure.” Jane stood up, picking up the empty cheese and bread plate, saying, “But I’m coming with you to Odaali, so I might take something, too.”
Erick smiled wide. “You are? That’s great!”
“I’m happy about it,” Jane said, [Cleanse]ing the dishes and putting them away. “I hit 50 and got my Polymage Class Quest.”
“You did!”
“Yup. The Class Quest takes one of every type of monster with one of each essence type, except dragon. I’m going for a unicorn for the light essence monster because, not only are unicorns horrible child eaters, they also have this ability called [Aura of Freedom] that makes them immune to most adverse mental and physical magic.”
“… Of course unicorns are child eaters.” Erick sighed. “Every monster is some horrible awful thing, aren’t they?”
“I’m pretty sure; yup.”
- - - -
Yetta sat in the sun room, sipping coftea along with Cyril, on their side of the coffee table; Erick and Jane did the same on their side of the table. Yetta was not the same reserved, highly suspicious person she was the last time Erick had seen her. Now, she was a bit bubbly, and a bit more open with her face. Jane had said that they had gone drinking and punching through several bars last night, so maybe this was due to that? Or, more likely, Erick reflected, she was just pushing down the horror of having her friends die as a sacrifice to a dark god; she was putting on a good face, and planning for the future when the Halls of the Dead were a distant memory and Odaali was not occupied by murderous plants.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Erick was finally able to say, after they had all sat down.
Cyril suddenly looked a wreck, with skinny arms and thin hands clutching his coftea, but he kept a mask of pleasantness firmly in place, saying, “They died giving their all for a better world. I can only hope that my own death buys the rest of humanity such a boon.”
Yetta smiled sadly, nodding.
Erick said, “I heard a bit of it from Jane. I saw some of it through her memories she shared. It was… Pretty bad.”
Yetta spoke without a hint of pain, saying, “It was bad. And it’s not over.”
Erick nodded, then asked Yetta, “What kinds of Stat items would you prefer?”
Yetta said, “About that. Cyril has something to ask of you, first. Then we will decide on our items.”
Erick looked to Cyril.
Cyril said, “Thanks to the efforts of our king, our coalition, and the people of the Wasteland Kingdoms, just this morning, the powers that be in the Wasteland Kingdoms have disavowed the terrorist group known as the Halls of the Dead. In a joint effort to rid the world of Daydroppers and those who made them, the Wasteland Kingdoms, and in particular, Queen Tiz, and King Porli, will be supplying the Greensoil Republic and Odaali-in-exile with tactical information regarding the Halls of the Dead. We have already made inroads upon the enemy; discovering their base, and a major complication.”
As soon as Cyril mentioned the Wasteland Kingdoms, Erick expected his Silver Star to turn hot, but it did nothing.
Cyril asked, “What I ask you, is this: Will you help us destroy the Halls of the Dead, too?”
“Uh.” Erick said, “I’m not killing any people. Hard-no.”
Cyril nodded, saying, “We would not expect you to; but there are now two Queen Daydropper Vines in the Greensoil Republic. One at Odaali, the other at a newly discovered research station deep in the Mondariska mountains; the research station where we suspect the Daydroppers were born. Destroying both of the Queen Vines is crucial to ending the Daydropper threat.”
Erick felt his Silver Star. It was still lukewarm; unresponsive to all this talk of killing incani and becoming a part of the Quiet War. Erick asked, “Does Koyabez sanction this action?”
Cyril said, “Normally there would be a conflict between the Avowed Pacifists and taking part in something that looks, superficially, like the Quiet War. But this is not the Quiet War at all. Koyabez’s clergy was instrumental in forging this temporary alliance between our two people. They used some large scale magic called [Zone of Peace] to facilitate the talks which enabled this coming together of nations to fight a common foe. It is my understanding that you invented this spell, just a little while ago, yes?”
Erick thought back to his vision of Koyabez, in the Interfaith Church, where he showed Erick a dot of glowing hope for peace on the southern coasts of the Greensoil Republic. This must be that.
"So... This isn't the Quiet War."
"Not right now." Cyril said, "And we hope it stays that way."
Jane said, “I’m going to help them infiltrate and kill the Halls of the Dead, both at Odaali and at this research station. You don’t have to decide now, dad, but just know that I’m going.”
Erick looked to Jane, then to Yetta and Cyril. This was a lot bigger than just assisting in killing plants.
Erick asked, “Is this a step toward a complete cessation of the Quiet War? At least on Glaquin?”
Cyril said, “I don’t know. Maybe? It's possible that the Wasteland Kingdoms are just looking to avoid an all out war, but that is good enough for me; we've never been on peaceful terms. For now, at least, the Quiet War will be quieter, yes.”
Erick said, “I won’t be killing people, but… I might be able to assist you in taking back both locations.”
“Fair enough.” Cyril said, “The aid we desire from you will never include overt murder, or participation in a war.”
Erick nodded, a cold weight settling into his chest; a worry, sitting on his heart like iron.
Yetta said, “Cyril and I are leaving Spur tomorrow morning. The assault on Odaali begins in three days. Send me a message, and I can come back for you at any point before the assault, or Jane can come and get you; she’s coming with us tomorrow morning, too. I would prefer you be in place and ready twelve hours beforehand, but four hours is good enough, meaning you have two days before I come and get you. What say you to this?”
“… I will be ready and able to—” Erick looked to Jane. She nodded. Erick looked to Yetta. “Uh. Soon. Tomorrow evening.”
Yetta nodded. “Your [Withering] will be instrumental in taking back my homeland with as little damage as possible; thank you.”
Erick changed the topic, “Anyway: What kind of items do you want?”
Yetta smiled. She asked, “What are our options?”
Erick said, “I’m wearing a Strength ring and a Vitality ring right now; Red Stats seem to play nicely together. Blue Stats play nice on their own, too. But having a Red and a Blue Stat item together is not a good experience— Ah. You know what? Let’s just go to my tower, and you can try on whatever you want of what I have available, or I can make you whatever you want. Or, I could just make you the gems themselves. I don’t mind, either way. I’ll make you five items— ten items, actually. How about… maybe fifteen gems?”
Yetta smiled softly, as she looked to Cyril.
Cyril said, “We would like twenty gems, and to pay you for more—”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“I will not be paid for any of this. You did a quest for me, and you deserve a reward for the horrors you have taken upon your shoulders, but I won’t accept money for further gems. I won’t be selling anything I make; probably not ever. Not happening.”
Cyril frowned a little, but kept his political mask on, saying, “I am the last remaining heir to the throne of Odaali, working with a Champion of Atunir, with companions who were heroes to my decimated people and politically connected to the Tower, who gave their lives to rid the world of a new horror. I ask you now, to please relax your personal motivations and help me get my nation back on its feet, for the sooner I can reestablish order, the sooner I can get back to helping those displaced by this attack. I will need a great deal of help in the coming months and years, if we don’t all die fighting the Halls of the Dead. Some mythical-level Stat items would go a long, long way, to securing my position, once I take back my homeland from a world-ending threat.”
“… Fifty gems, and only after we’ve had a long and thorough conversation so I can be sure that you’re not some secret murdering king, who eats babies, or some shit like that. Only twenty gems, for now.” Erick said, “All I’ve really heard about your republic is that some dragonkin are moving to Spur because they don’t like it over there, for whatever reason, but I’m starting to suspect its because humans are in charge and the dragonkin are second class citizens—” Erick added, “And your Green King tried to murder me! With an assassin from the Green Circle! Jane’s the one who found parasites in our food.”
At first, Cyril and Yetta looked about to laugh, and Jane looked embarrassed, but Erick kept going, and Cyril’s face dropped. Yetta frowned.
Jane said, “Dragonkin aren’t able to hold political position higher than knight. A lot of the problems between human and dragonkin of the Greensoil Republic stem from that, as is my understanding.”
Yetta grumbled.
Cyril said, “I wouldn’t want to support some dictator, either. We can have some talks—”
“Not now, and not while the danger is still out there.” Yetta’s voice turned hard, but not harsh, “I completed your quest; you will assist. Past that, we can see what happens. I would like to leave the political talk for another day.”
“I can agree to that,” Erick said.
Cyril said, “Aye.”
Yetta relaxed. She said, “I would like to get a feel for what items I would want; can we try some on?”
Erick stood. “Let’s go to my tower.”
Yetta stood up, forcing a small smile.
- - - -
Yetta eventually settled on a two-gem belt for 60 Strength, and a ring for 30 Vitality. When she put them on together there was a moment where she looked like she was having a heart attack, or some other terribly drastic event. But she came back to herself saying, ‘That’s a RUSH,’ and it all seemed good. Cyril was much more conservative, opting for two rings; Strength and Vitality, with a backup Willpower ring for casting the bigger spells when needed. Erick sent them off with their own treasures and a promise to create 10 Strength gems, 5 Willpower gems, and 5 Vitality gems; they would work out actually setting them into jewelry themselves.
They would return in the morning to take Jane with them.
They never commented on the state of Erick’s tower and Erick never made an attempt to hide any part of his diamond-growing vats, or rain catcher set-up, or his lathes and diamond grinders. The ease in which Erick promised to have their gems ready by the appointed time seemed to unnerve them, though, if only slightly, like they weren’t really trusting what he was saying to be the truth. But they didn't push, and Erick didn't volunteer extra information.
When they were gone, Erick made Jane a set of Willpower and Focus rings; she wanted to practice her magic, using what she’d learned both from him, and from the old god of magic:
Harmonies in the Script lead to stronger spells? That the Script itself was a stepping stone to greater magic? Maybe, or maybe those were purely surface statements, meaning exactly what the words meant.
Inside his mage tower, Erick said, “I think he was just talking about high tier spells. About harmonizing the base magics into something bigger, more… Orchestral. Less one-man band, attaching every instrument to your body and swinging around hoping to make music; more using two or three instruments well. Or maybe using one instrument really well.”
Jane paused. She slowly nodded, humming, and said, “Maybe.”
“I’m going to try and create a multi-Stat item, though.” Erick asked, “Want to watch?”
“… Yes. I do.”
Erick smiled wide. “But first! Dinner?”
“Very yes.” Jane smiled as she said, “I want to go to a restaurant and order fries, because that’s a thing I can do now. Thank you, dad.”
“Oh~” Erick exaggerated a blush, saying, “It was just some political maneuvering with giving away priceless magics.”
“Oh? Really?” Jane chuckled. “You’re going to need to explain that.”
“Sure. But it involves the nature of light, which may or may not have something to do with these harmonies Melemizargo mentioned, so we probably shouldn’t broach that subject in public.”
“Short version; and then I want fries.”
“Ultraviolet light is just a step up in frequency in the visible light spectrum, and ultraviolet [Special Ward]s are used as a token of royalty in wrought society. Some ancient order of special enchanters called the Gemslicers makes them for kings and queens. And now I do, too.”
“Ah… huh. Okay...” Jane said, “Uh. Okay.”
“Blacklights make wrought fluoresce; Killzone is the brightest purple person I have ever seen.”
Jane laughed loud.
- - - -
Dinner with Jane, out on the town, talking about the little things that had happened to them in the past month of not physically seeing each other, was nice. Jane even talked of her time drinking with Yetta and Cyril the previous night; she had a lot to say about who they were as people, and most of it was good. Yetta and Cyril were good people, who did good things for those around them, like save villages from monsters, or, most recently, walk into Ar’Kendrithyst and kill Planter knowing that some of them would die.
Killing monsters and saving people is one thing, but Erick wanted to know who they would be as rulers; and Jane didn’t know much about that at all. Cyril never expected to take the throne, Yetta never expected to be a Champion; figuring out how to resurrect their kingdom would take them a long, long while. There would surely be disasters of all kinds, assaulting them from all sides the entire time. Yetta’s harshness in dealing with some of the events directly after the murder of Odaali, like killing those two merchants who failed to deliver on aid for Odaali, would surely come back to bite them in the ass.
Jane would keep an eye out for all of that, once they were over in Odaali.
“It might be nice, or it might be horrible, to have an enemy in front of us we can actually end,” Jane said, over her second plate of fries.
Erick stopped eating his chicken wrap, to say, “I understand what the Halls of the Dead did, but do we really have to be so bloody about killing them? Can’t we feel a bit more bad about the tragedy of the Quiet War? The horror that we need to… do this... at all?...”
Jane looked at Erick like he was stupid.
Erick dropped the subject and went back to eating his wrap.
- - - -
Back home, Jane decided to go right to bed. But Erick had enchanting orders to fill, not only from Yetta and Cyril, who would be getting twenty gems, initially, but he also had to clear out his last 50 ring delivery to Liquid. A casual question posed through Poi revealed that Liquid was fine with Erick taking as long as needed; she expected him to take a month producing the first batch.
So with that small weight off of his back, Erick spent the evening and a bit of the night grinding gems into spheres for Yetta and Cyril. He would enchant them in the morning when Jane could watch.
Erick woke up to the smell of bacon; Jane was cooking breakfast. After a nice meal of meat and pancakes, while the sun had yet to brighten the sky, Erick was ready to enchant. Jane was ready, too; she had even glanced through some of Erick's enchanting books in preparation.
With steaming coftea in hand, Erick and Jane walked up to the second floor and entered the southern mage tower. The orange city was quiet, dark, and blue with pre-dawn light, outside of the large picture windows. To the south rose the walls of Ar’Kendrithyst, while across the flat land of the open city, was the rest of Spur. Lights were turning on; other people were also waking up. The farmers would be waking up now, ready to start the day by readying the fields in the cool morning air. When that was over, they would break for breakfast, to get ready for Erick’s rain and the harvest.
Erick cast an audio and a visual [Distortion Ward] into the tower, extending just past the windows.
Jane stood back a bit from the vats and the main table, looking at the distorted city outside the window, asking, “Do you do that all the time? I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. They can’t see you, but you can’t see anyone.”
Erick said, “Poi suggested I do this, if I was ever to actually talk to someone about what I was doing. I’ll trust his judgement.”
“… We could just use [Telepathy], Dad.”
“Nope!” Erick gazed out at the distorted city, saying, “Concentrating on active magic outside of what I’m trying to do makes the end product much less than what it could be. These [Ward]s are the best solution.” He took off his rings and set them aside, adding, “And enchanting while under the effects of other enchants also leads to an inferior product. A [Personal Absorption Ward] doesn’t seem to matter, though.” Erick began, “To begin—”
“Don’t tell me; I want to see if I can understand what you’re doing on my own.”
“Well… Okay. I can do it that way.”
In front of Erick were three stone vats, each empty. A much larger cistern sat to the side of the mage tower; it was meant to hold platinum rainwater, and it was also empty. Erick [Stoneshape]d open the funnel leading from the outside into the larger vat, and turned on [Exalted Storm Aura].
Rain fell from straight above in a sudden, heavy rush of glowing platinum water, gathering in gutters as it flowed into Erick’s tower, into the cistern. Erick cut the rain. Ten seconds was all it took to fill up the cistern with all the platinum rainwater he would need.
Erick said, “Ask me any questions at any time, Jane.”
She hummed, then sipped her coftea.
With [Watershape], Erick pulled up three measures of platinum rainwater. He split the water into three and deposited it into three prepared vats, like pouring pudding into a mold. Erick let go of the rain, and it sloshed level in all three containers. He moved to the prepared, spherical gems, and picked up ten with his Handy Aura, one at a time, and carefully deposited them into the first vat of platinum water. The bottom of the container was already carved into dimples; each gem barely separated from their neighbor, though you couldn’t tell where they were under the opaque water unless you had experience enchanting gems in this set-up.
Erick turned to Jane. She shook her head. Still no questions?
Erick cast a Strength-Crimson mask [Ward] over the vat—
“That.” Jane said, “How did you make that?”
“Ah?” Erick looked at the red mask [Ward], saying, “Color matched for Strength-Crimson; it only lets that specific wavelength through.” Erick held up a hand and flared mana through his Strength, producing a radiance of every color of red across his fingers. “Push mana through your Strength, and let the maskward kill all interfering wavelengths.” Erick stuck his glowing hand into the water, into the mask [Ward], touching the gems, saying, “Empower the gems a little each, but keep moving between the gems, letting them all get the same charge. Keep going back and forth until you’re sure they’ve absorbed as much as they can. Then you turn on [Cleanse Aura].”
Erick flashed out thick air, but not much changed in the room; everything was still clean. “Then you cast this [Diamond Aura].” Erick flashed a tiny aura that he had created days ago, directly into the water. Each diamond rapidly sucked in platinum glows, growing a mirror shell, while he still channeled Strength-Crimson into the gems, flaring mana through his Strength hard for the last few seconds before the shell completely formed, as the water cleared. He cut off [Diamond Aura]. Thick air continued to spill into the room, turning the now-cloudy water completely clear. Erick lifted the newly enchanted gems out of the water with his Handy Aura. “And that’s how you make ten gems at once.” Erick took out his two diamond spells and showed Jane.
Crystallize Diamond X, close range, 1 minute per level, 25 MP
Cause a diamond to
Diamond Aura, close range, 1 MP per second.
Cause the diamonds in a small area around you to
“So many questions.” Jane frowned at the spells. She asked, “How did you manage to get around the Infinitesimal Ban?”
“I didn’t. This is random chance breaking up atmospheric carbon; some of it adding into the diamonds, some of it probably transforming into something dangerous. Hence the necessity of [Cleanse Aura].” Erick looked at his wet hand. "I don't think I'm in danger of any exposure to anything deadly, though. [Cleanse] does a lot, apparently."
Jane kept frowning. She said, “I don’t know enough about nuclear power to know if this is a disastrous precedent with regard to uranium 238, or not.”
Erick shook his head. “I doubt it. Diamond is very stable, and a crystal. Is uranium a crystal? No.”
“Is it?” Jane asked.
“Uh.” Erick, suddenly unsure, said, “Probably not a stable one, at any rate.”
Jane hummed, then looked back to the spells, then dismissed them, saying, “You’re likely right.” She asked, “And this mana cost? So cheap!”
"No?" Erick said, “500 for Mana Shaping X plus 25 mana for the spell, lasts 10 minutes, so times 6, so 3150 mana per hour, or like… 50 per minute. 1 mana per second is actually higher than what it should be.”
Jane sighed out, “Sure.” She added, “Meanwhile, my ‘Handy Aura’ can’t get below 7 mana per second.”
Erick looked at Jane. “That’s weird. It shouldn’t cost that at all.”
Jane shook her head, saying, “Don’t worry about it. Let me see one of those gems.”
Erick smiled as he handed a silver gem to Jane. She inspected the silver ball as Erick used [Metalshape] to pick off a lump of iron from a waiting bar. With a bit of crude artistry, Erick stuffed a gem into a ring, and then put the ring on.
“Plus 31,” Erick said, feeling stronger than usual. He took the ring off before it made him feel too funny. “Since they were all enchanted at the same time, with the same frequency, they can all easily slot into the same item. Four gems at once for plus-110 of a Stat is the highest I can safely do; five explodes, without fail. But more than two gems makes the item decay much, much faster than normal.” Erick put the freshly enchanted gems aside as he picked up two spherical unenchanted gems, saying, “And now we try the actual experiment.”
Erick dismissed the red maskward and cast a four-part color mask over the second vat of platinum water, creating a spot of vibrant purple upon the world. He slipped two unenchanted gems into the platinum waters, saying, “This is a color mask denying everything but Crimson, Cinnabar, Ultramarine, and Cyan; the four Stat colors. Now, we will see if this does anything at all; I’m expecting an explosion.”
Jane flashed out a midnight blue [Absorption Ward], fully filling the room.
Erick looked around at the darkness, and said, “My [Personal Ward] is for 4600, Jane. Yours should be much higher.”
Jane shrugged, saying, “I worry. So what,” as she looked at him, then looked back to the purple maskward.
Erick channeled mana through all of his Stats at once, producing a flickering, ugly mess of purple light. He stuck his hand into the purple mask. All the radiance of his messy soul turned clean, leaving a perfectly purple glow. He pushed his hand into the water, touching the gems under the platinum exactly how he would for any other enchantment.
[Cleanse Aura].
[Diamond Aura].
Erick flared purple, as the diamonds under the water soaked up the platinum. He cut the [Diamond Aura], letting the [Cleanse Aura] clean and clear the water. The gems looked okay, at the bottom of the vat. Erick picked them up. With [Metalshape], he stuffed one into a ring. He put the ring on.
“Hmm.” Erick said, “Plus 7 to all Stats.” Erick felt… Nothing? He said, “I don’t feel any different at all, either.”
“That’s supposed to be impossible.” Jane smiled at him, saying, “Maybe don’t make any more of those, for a while.” She added, “I’m glad you could do it, though.”
Erick made the other gem into a ring, and put them both on at the same time. He paused. He said, “This one is plus 8 to all Stats.” Erick looked at the two rings on his hands, and felt weird, but not because the rings made him feel weird. He still didn’t feel a Stat Swing at all, and that was exactly the opposite of what should be happening. He frowned, saying “This feels completely natural.” He took the rings off and held them out to Jane. “You try them on. Tell me if they make you feel different.”
Jane looked at the crude rings, then put them both on. She paused. She said, “I got nothing. Stat Swings usually feel like… something.” She looked to the remaining vat of platinum water. “Make more.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said—” Jane cut herself off, taking both rings off and giving them back to Erick, saying, “No. I was right the first time. Don’t make any more.” She frowned. She added, “They’re probably going to break as soon as you stress them, anyway.”
Erick put one of the rings back on. “Ah.” He looked at it. “Already lost a point. Down to plus-six.”
Jane sighed, smiling softly. She said, “Probably for the best.” Jane said, “And now I’m changing my mind back again. Go ahead and make more; if they’re this weak, then you should find out why.”
Erick looked at Jane and laughed.
“What?”
“I’ve never seen you this indecisive.”
“Dad. You are making impossible things.” Jane said, "And it makes me nervous.”
Erick said, “They need to be tested, for sure. I think you might be right about them being novelties... The rate of decay over four different Stats being used all the time... It's gonna kill these rings super fast.”
“They're pretty, but functionally useless.”
“Maybe!”
Erick put both rings back on. They would need extensive testing to see if the rate of decay leveled off, or not; his 22 Strength ring hadn’t lost another point past that first loss, even though he had spent a few dozen HP pools leveling his HP skills while he was out hunting wyrms.
Jane asked, “Want to try creating a [Familiar], now?”
“I’m going to finish up here.” Erick looked outside, at the brightening morning, saying, “I’m going to try for the [Familiar] at noon, after the rain, at a thematically appropriate time.”
“I can’t fault the mysticism not working, just… Don’t get too flightful, Dad. It could go really bad.”
“I won’t. What are you going to do?”
“I’m leaving with Yetta and Cyril.” Jane had a thread of intent coming off of her head. “They’re already on their way.”
Erick smiled softly, whispering, “Of course.”
“You’re going to be over there this evening, anyway.” Jane joked, saying, “I think we’re going to be lucky to get a tent.”
Erick waved his hand, saying, “I can just make us something out of [Stoneshape].”
Jane pulled him into a quick hug. Erick held her, as he held in his emotions.
Back to war, back to the fight. Killing monsters was necessary; Erick had learned that lesson. Thankfully, he did not learn that lesson the hard way. But with a lifetime of solving his problems with words, Erick didn’t think that he could ever be as correctly violent as his daughter. Erick could fake the necessity of the violence; he could do what needed to be done. But that just wasn’t him.
“I love you, Jane.”
“I love you, Dad.” Jane pulled away, saying, “Talk to you when I get there.” She looked to the archway to Erick’s mage tower; at the swirling, dampening pair of [Distortion Ward]s covering the space between. “They’re here now.”
Erick followed Jane to Yetta and Cyril. He greeted them with a heartfelt ‘Good morning!’ but there was a sadness in his soul. He managed to make the three of them stay for a little while, while he hurriedly created the rest of Yetta and Cyril’s gem order. He set the gems in a small stone box, each perfect silver sphere in a dimple of its own, and handed the box over to Cyril. Cyril thanked him in some perfunctory way.
And then Yetta created a yellow tear in reality in the living room, a rent torn wide connecting two different parts of the world, very similar to the one Erick had seen through Jane’s memories of when Melemizargo was Summoned to the Garden. Yetta said it was a [Gate]; a very advanced form of group teleportation gifted to her by Atunir for the duration of her Championship, that it was nothing at all like [Teleport].
Then Jane, Cyril, and Yetta, were gone, stepping from orange stone onto green grass, from a city waking up, into the early morning sunshine shining down onto green hills, traveling thousands of miles in a single moment.
The [Gate] vanished with a yellow blip, the warm bright sun of another part of the world closing off, bringing back the dark. As the sun rose outside upon the desert city of Spur, Erick felt colder than before.
- - - -
All throughout the rain at the farms, Erick experimented with [Telepathy], [Conjure Force Elemental], and [Scry], casting constantly to understand how mana changed as it ran through his magic. And then he moved onto the next part of his experiment: he ran mana directly through the spells inside of him, like he was enchanting through a Stat.
Each spell produced a white flare of magic that was not white at all. [Perfect Hearing] and [Ultrasight] helped Erick hear and see what he was actually seeing and hearing, and while white was the color of Erick’s generalized magic, up close, it was filled with hues and shades of white; sometimes brighter, sometimes dimmer, for each spell was a specific uniqueness all its own.
[Telepathy] produced tendril glows of white around Erick’s hand, and a harsh, discordant song, like countless people speaking in a crowded room. Most importantly, this spell, used in this way, was full of sounds of people working on a farm; Erick would never have heard or seen or sensed this foible of magic had he not been in the middle of the farm, where many people were looking over at him when they thought he wasn’t looking, thinking to themselves ‘what is that fool archmage doing?’.
A quick [Teleport] to Handy Aura into the air above some random part of the Crystal Forest showed that, yes, [Telepathy] used in this way was picking up on the thoughts of the people around him.
A quick [Teleport] back to the farms also showed that Poi was very easy to make understandably concerned, if Erick just up and [Teleport]ed away from him without saying something beforehand.
The mana glow produced by [Scry] was a sphere of white around Erick’s hand. But [Scry] itself was a deep, terrible silence, and not actually silent at all. [Perfect Hearing] helped Erick understand that the silence of [Scry] was actually an ultra low frequency hum. It was an unearthly sound, one of giant monsters watching you while you slept, or an enemy figuring out your secrets, or a storm rumbling far away. Poi even commented, to ‘please stop that, sir, it’s making me very nervous.’, which was about the same as Erick’s feelings on the sound of [Scry]. Spooky stuff!
[Conjure Force Elemental] was the sound of being underwater, of a whirlpool concentrated into a dot; of a mind emergent, one step removed from being a soul. It was the sound of an amoeba, or a flatworm. The white glow that came out of [Conjure Force Elemental] flowed around Erick’s hand like water around a globe, to catch here and there in streams and eddies.
Erick thought how to combine all of that, as platinum rain fell across farmland.
Erick imagined: [Familiar] seemed to call up a mind out of the ocean of a collective unconscious, put it in a body, and give control of most of that body to the caster, while the parts that were not under direct control were emotionally under control because of… some deep seated horror imprinted upon the [Familiar]?
No… That can’t be right. That seemed… Wrong.
Erick set that problem aside and went through the rest of his spells, looking for a possible harmonizing magic to go with [Familiar] recipe of [Scry], [Telepathy], and [Conjure Force Elemental].
Highlights of those experiments included:
[Call Lightning] was a primordial force given life; a song unto itself, about oceans crashing and mountains crumbling as the sky ripped everything apart. The white glow of [Call Lightning] even shocked Erick a little, leaving tingling lights on his palm that cracked and sparked as they dissipated.
[Pure Force Beam Bolt] was a pure, high ring, a nail upon a bright chalkboard; a perfect spike of white light, flowing out of Erick’s pointed finger.
[Domain of the Withering Slime] was an undulating mass of underwater sounds and a similar undulating mass of white and grey light. That was an odd one. Grey light? Weird.
[Exalted Storm Aura] was a primordial force that had seen some shit, and had chosen to lay down and start a nice life for itself in a place where it wouldn’t be disturbed. The white flare from [Exalted Storm Aura] was similarly sedentary, but not; the light built upon itself, like a cloud slowly growing larger. Erick smiled at that one. He had no idea where these feelings were coming from, when he channeled mana through his spells, but the emotions coming off of [Exalted Storm Aura] were very relatable.
[Airshape] was a wind; flowing high and free across the land, whistling as it danced through grasses, tumbling as it crested dunes, playful, and an extremely airy white light.
[Stoneshape] was a dense, solid sound, producing a solid, unwavering white light.
[Watershape] was, surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, a swirl of primordial soup, charged and ready to facilitate life, if only it were given a chance. The white glow from [Watershape] was clearly too strong and soul-producing to put into a potential [Familiar]; Erick was not ready to give ‘birth’ to a being made of magic.
[Airshape] though… [Airshape] had possibilities.
Erick channeled mana through the elements of [Familiar], listening to them, feeling them out, understanding where the harmony lay between the three.
And there was none.
Oh, sure, maybe if he listened in a different mood, or if he had a different state of mind, or if he plugged his ears and decided that discordant and disturbing was actually delightful and desired, he could hear a harmony emerge from the ether. But there was no real harmony; not to Erick’s ears. Not, however, until he added a fourth, stabilizing sound: [Airshape].
The horror of all-sight touched upon the sky, and was given wings to see the world. The disaster of looming in the minds of others was given space to be itself. And the swirls of concentrating mana, now concentrated in a rhythm.
Erick sat to the side of the temple, in the middle of Spur’s farms, flowing mana through his spells, listening to them, and feeling them, while platinum rain poured all around from silver clouds; a gentle, constant static, to the emotions and feelings and sounds emanating from his Script-magic.
The sounds he made were small sounds, echoing in the temple, not traveling very far. He wasn’t going to pump up the power and actually try to combine the spell like this, not yet, not while he was using [Exalted Storm Aura]; that spell seemed reluctant to play well with others.
When the scheduled rain was over, Erick [Teleport]ed home. He had things to do, and they needed to be done right now.
- - - -
Erick stood upon the roof of his mage tower, a dozen meters above the ground, surrounded by air and unencumbered by others; except for Poi, who stood at a respectable 5 to 7 feet away, prepared to assist, if necessary. Noon was seconds away; the sun was almost directly above. The winds of the Crystal Forest washed over the northern walls of Spur, flowing around Erick, hot, but cool as they flowed into his loose clothing, touched his hair, carrying upon the breeze the scent of dry sand. He started to sweat, but it was an easy, pleasant feeling. Now was the time to try for [Familiar].
He faced south, toward Ar’Kendrithyst; let them see his work if they were able.
He began to channel mana through the necessary skills, ramping up his mana into something that complemented his words. Or maybe his words only served to complement the vibrations in the manasphere? Either way, he began:
“An eddy turns Transcendental, [Conjure Force Elemental]
“Caught on Force, ever Sightful, [Scry]
“an air carves soft, Instrumental, [Airshape]
“Fear may be, but never frightful, [Telepathy]
“Appear! Be here, my [Elemental].” [Conjure Force Elemental]
Erick’s mana drained out of him, funneling into the air. He faltered, but he did not fall; a lot of mana had just left his body, but no new paths had been carved by new particle magic. This was normal magic, and it was magnificent.
A space tore open in the sky in front of Erick, three feet wide but impossibly deep, full of light and booming with a full, coordinated orchestra of spells and sounds Erick had never heard. The space inverted, suddenly and without warning, a world of music turning into something much smaller, but still three meters tall; a creature made of too many wings and so many eyes, floating upon the air on a muted song. Every eye was pure white and took in the world from every direction. Every wing was too white, and flickered in every possible way, somehow keeping the creature made of air and sight in the sky, under its own, completely controlled power.
A huge blue box briefly filled Erick’s view.
Summon Ophiel, medium range, 1505 mana + Variable.
Summon an Ophiel to do your bidding. Maximum 10 Ophiel permitted.
Ophiel persist until killed or dismissed.
All Ophiel are the same creature; to know one is to know them all.
All Ophiel naturally have and regenerate mana based on your own mana and mana regeneration, which they may use to cast the spells that you imbue them with, at your own command or at their own discretion. Comes summoned and proficient with [Airshape], [Telepathy], and [Scry].
All Ophiel are able to change their airy shape, as they are wont.
Imbue your Ophiel with new spells, wherever they are. Variable
See through the eyes of your Ophiel. Variable
Communicate telepathically with your Ophiel. Variable
Ringed in light and made of wings and eyes, the ophiel hovered in the air, gently undulating in small, pleasant noises; sounding like a flock of birds on the wing.
Erick smiled. “Welcome to the world, Ophiel.”
The ophiel did nothing but continue to look in every direction and at Erick, hovering in the air, unmoving.
Erick hummed. “I guess you’re not sapient?” It did nothing, so Erick said, “Let’s see how you work, then?”
“Sir.” Poi gutted, behind Erick, “Please dismiss it.”
The ophiel gazed at Poi with its hundreds of eyes. Erick turned to his bodyguard. The sapphire dragonkin was a shade of sky-blue; considerably lighter than usual. That wasn’t good. Erick turned back to his ophiel.
Erick asked, “Uh. I guess I overdid it with the angelic imagery.” He asked, “Can you transform into something smaller, and quieter?”
The ophiel just kept staring, floating in the sky, 10 feet tall and gently making small noises.
Erick pressed a gentle command into the creature, like he would with [Conjure Force Elemental]. A dozen white wings collapsed into four, two large, two small, around a central body made of dozens of eyes, but much, much smaller than it was before; only two feet tall, now. With another gentle mental command, the creature further reduced in size. Now the size of a small parrot, the ophiel landed on the railing in front of Erick. It held on to the stone with its lower wings, and looked up at Erick; one larger eye surrounded by smaller eyes.
An ever-present song in the air, like a distant wind, vanished, as it touched down and went still.
Erick knelt down, getting eye level with the summon, saying, “You’re kinda cute.”
“When it’s not three meters tall and blaring out horrors!” Poi stammered, “Uh. Sir.”
“It wasn’t that loud, was it?” Erick turned to the tiny creature, saying, “You’re not a noisemaker; you’re just a baby.” Erick sent, ‘Can you understand me?’
The response that came was just, ‘?’ Not really a word; not really a coherent thought, but a blank question at the world, and right now ‘the world’ was Erick.
Erick explained to Poi, “Sizzi told me about this: it might take years for a rudimentary intelligence to form, but until then, I should treat the creature like a pet in training. Commands and rewards. Starting off small, but strict, and treating it how I want it to act in the future.” Erick thought for a moment, then flexed a command at the not-bird to get on his shoulder. The ophiel breezed into the air and alighted on Erick’s shoulder, securing itself with its lower wings; there were tiny claws in there, hidden under all the feathers. Erick turned to Poi. “Don’t scare the baby bird, Poi.”
Poi’s sapphire color returned to his face. He spoke seriously, “That is not a bird, sir. I have no idea what you have summoned, but I feel you must have your spell looked at, to make sure you haven’t created a life that will turn on you.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Poi declared, "And that's no angel, sir!"
Erick asked, "What? It's not? What do angels look like on Veird?"
"Like humans!" Poi exclaimed.
"Okay. Well. I guess I should have seen that coming." Erick gently petted ophiel's wings, cooing, "You're not a veirdly angel at all, are you? Cute little thing, you are. Yes you are."
The ophiel didn't seem annoyed at the petting, nor did it seem happy. It just seemed... there.
Erick stopped petting it, saying, "We'll work on that."
- - - -
The mage guildhouse had two towers, five days ago. Now, it had three grey towers, and one of the nearby buildings must have been consumed by the guild, because the grey structure was twice as large as it had been the last time Erick had seen the place, and it sat in the middle of a rather open area. Traffic in the Mage District was similarly increased as it was in the Adventurer’s District, but walking through the grey streets here was considerably easier compared to the density of everyone wearing armors and carrying weapons in the Adventurer’s District. Here, people wore easy clothes like tunics and muffling robes. Even the noise was less, which seemed like a good thing when it came to introducing Ophiel to Spur.
Ophiel was simply entranced the whole stroll to the Mage’s Guildhouse. Erick spoke telepathically with it, explaining what it was seeing, and pointing out new things as they came into view. Ophiel occasionally made windy noises, but mostly, it —he? she? they?— stared at everyone, and everything, unblinking eyes opening and closing along its body to take in more sights as needed, but quickly dismissing many of the extra eyes when it had seen all there was to see. Guards got a heavy stare at first, but Ophiel ignored them past the second group. A man wearing bright pink suit got a response of several new eyes grown quickly, but those vanished just as fast as they appeared. Ophiel seemed to really like the trees, though; greenery, especially greenery moved by the wind, got and held the attention of at least two eyes at all times.
Erick entered the open double doors of the Guildhouse. Sizzi was seated behind the front counter, along with Anhelia, both of them discussing some quiet thing, until Erick walked up.
Anhelia looked to Erick, and smiled a bit, nodding in greeting.
But Sizzi’s reaction was priceless; she saw Ophiel and stood up, wide eyed and with a gasp. She lost all sense of decorum; several nearby people looked at her like she was a disruptive child in a toy store; that wouldn’t have been far from the truth.
“You made a [Familiar] you like!” Sizzi exclaimed, loud and happy, “It’s so cute!” She asked, “I need to see the spell.”
Erick smiled. “All that, and more. Let’s go to a private room, first.”
Anhelia said, “Go ahead,” but Sizzi had already grabbed Erick’s hand and was pulling him into a back room.
In a plain, heavy duty stone room, five meters by five meters and meant for spell experimentation, Sizzi quickly set out two chairs; one for her, and for Erick. She sat down. Erick sat down across from her as he pulled out Ophiel's spell description and handed the blue box to Sizzi. Her eyes went wide as she read. Then her eyes went wider. She pursed her lips, then recoiled just a tiny bit. She read intently, her eyes flickering back and forth between the winged creature on Erick’s shoulder, and the box in her hands.
Ophiel’s reaction was quieter, but he had grown several tiny eyes to watch Sizzi and her fun reactions.
When she kept silently reading, Erick interrupted, “It’s not a real creature, right?”
“No.” Sizzi instantly said, “No. This is just a very, very good [Familiar]. Shapechange is huge. Innate spells? That’s amazing, too. But the biggest, most incredible feat, is that it has its own mana and regeneration. Summoned creatures like this live off of their mana; their mana is their HP. If it has your MP, and your regeneration...” Sizzi stressed, looking at Ophiel on Erick’s shoulder, “Ophiel has… a lot of HP.”
Ophiel tittered, like a tiny bird; he seemed to like Sizzi's attention, but Erick realized now that he was just anthropomorphizing the little guy. And just like that, Erick decided that Ophiel was a ‘he’, and that a little bit of anthropomorphizing was okay.
Erick said, “He’s quite a good little guy, for sure. But there’s no danger of me accidentally having made a slave, right?”
“No. None.” Sizzi shook her head. “[Familiar] in the Script blocks out all tier 2 soul creation. Even if you used more spells than necessary, at tier 2, you couldn’t create a soul-filled being.” She asked, “You added [Airshape] to the recipe, yes?”
“Yes.”
“How!?” Half-incredulous, Sizzi asked, “How’d you— How did you do any of this!”
Erick smiled. “I sang it into existence with a short rhyme to harmonize the spells together, casting the necessary spells as needed as I went. I started with [Conjure Force Elemental], then—”
“Hold on—” Sizzi summoned a pad of paper and a pencil from the air. She started writing, saying, “I’ll have to write it down properly later, but go ahead.”
Erick nodded, smiling. Then he explained how enchanting was all about stringing mana through one’s magic, and how he used that harmony to create Ophiel. Nothing too groundbreaking; just a bit of lateral thinking to harmonize what was already there. [Airshape] was crucial to that harmony; [Scry] and [Telepathy] felt way too paranoid and scared of each other, or maybe even themselves, to combine without a great deal of luck. Erick cautioned against Sizzi using [Watershape]; even if she believed it was not possible to create life with a tier 2 spell, Erick still felt that [Watershape] was asking for trouble.
Sizzi was thrilled the whole time.
When the explanation was done, Erick showed off Ophiel’s true three meter size, complete with billowing wings and a thousand white eyes. Sizzi laughed with joy to see such a beautiful creation. Poi, though, calmly asked Erick to put away the summon after a minute of full exposure. With a small command, Ophiel quickly returned to blue-bird sized, then sat upon Erick’s shoulder.
Erick said, “I hope that you can use some of my success to create your own, because I couldn’t have done this without your help, Sizzi.”
Sizzi smiled softly, saying, “I only hope mine can be half as good as yours.” She added, “But. Yes. This is vastly different from how I was doing it. It might work, but even if it doesn’t work this well… adding an innate shapechange ability might be the perfect solution to all my problems, though that might make the combination all the more difficult. I’ll find out!” She sighed out. “If only that Xerzeril wasn’t three meters tall… But that’s the past.” She smiled, bowing a bit, saying, “Thank you, Archmage.”
- - - -
Erick stopped into the Sewerhouse and took Al out for drinks and an early dinner. Erick talked of wyrm hunting, and of his new familiar, who was still sitting on Erick’s shoulder this whole time, hopefully learning a bit about everything.
Al smiled over beer and fried foods, saying, “That is quite a set of accomplishments, Archmage.”
“Oh don’t you start with that, too.” Erick said, “I’m not nearly paranoid enough to be a real archmage.”
Al laughed loud.
- - - -
The air ripped open, a yellow scar glowing upon the flat lands of the Human District, as twilight began to fill the skies of Spur. Yetta stood on the other side of the [Gate], along with Jane, on a dark grassy field; a night sky stretching overhead, filled with stars. A cool wind blew out from the [Gate]. It was time to go.
With Ophiel on Erick's shoulder, Erick, Poi, Rats, and Teressa, each hefted their own packs, and stepped through onto the Greensoil Republic. A minor war would start tomorrow. Hopefully it would go better than Yetta's time in Ar'Kendrithyst.