Erick looked away from Quilatalap to see a large orcol man, stepping up the stairs that led to the orchestra down below. His hair was black and skin was brown as bark, and thick, like tree bark. All he wore was a kilt made of leather, and a very displeased visage. His eyes were bright white; he was a Shade. And he was walking right at Erick.
Quilatalap spoke before the interloper could, “Hello, Treant.”
Oh? So this was Treant? Erick had wondered what the reclusive Shade had looked like. Killzone had said that Treant was usually a tree in the middle of the Garden, but he wasn’t sure if Treant was a person turned into a tree, or a tree [Familiar] that outgrew its master. Bets were that Treant was a former orcol, and those bets looked to be correct.
Treant scowled at the archlich, but he turned his displeasure back to a low simmer, and stopped two meters from Erick. He stood there, silent. Unblinking. Angry, and yet unwilling to speak.
Killzone’s main advice regarding Treant was not to go into the Garden and otherwise avoid the man, for Treant was a strident misanthrope of the worst kind. He absolutely hated civilization, organized thought, people of all kinds, and especially politics. But he loved plants. Killzone had given Erick an edge to dealing with this Shade, but Erick needed to wait for the right time, and to see how Treant actually felt before he opened his mouth and spoke of his advantage.
So Erick waited.
Eventually, the bark-skinned orcol spoke, “I am torn.”
Erick successfully resisted the urge to say, ‘Hi, Torn! I’m Erick.’
Treant continued, “On one side, you have created a World Tree, and you have created many new plants. But on the other side, they are farming plants. Lives created to CODDLE—” Anger exploded, but was successfully restrained. Treant forced himself to speak through his anger, “To coddle the people of this blasted world. But on yet another side, I have been ordered to offer you your pick. So pick: Sundrop, Rockdrop. Foamdrop. Stardrop.”
Erick sharply inhaled. Those were the names of the Stat Fruits. He collected himself, and said, “No thank you. I don’t want any of those.”
For the briefest of moments, Treant smiled. It was a wicked thing to see on this man. And then his smile was gone, replaced by his perpetual frown, which turned a hint darker, as he spat out, “If you don’t pick one, it’ll be a hunt through Kendrithyst with forty of us and one of you, and when we find you, you’re getting all of them. I hope you turn shadeling and everyone in your life leaves you. It’ll make you much easier to control.”
“… Ah.” Erick tried an evasion, saying, “Charisma is a death sentence according to the Mind Mages.”
“Then this is good news for you: the Charisma Tree has been altered. I’m debuting the Perception Stat Tree in a few hours. I’m still calling it Foamdrop.”
Erick felt a chill. He deflected, “I need to know: Have you made these yourself, or did—”
Treant sighed. “Stop. Stop this. Stop vacillating. You are trapped by your own actions, so make a decision. Either cut your leg off and try to run and have the yoke forced upon you, or put the yoke over your own head, of your own volition.”
Erick did not instantly answer. He was still trying to think of—
Treant growled out, “Tania. This is going too slow. Help me.”
A shadow stepped onto the ground to the left, and peeled away, revealing Tania Webwalker, in her white dress. Her spider was on her shoulder again. She opened her mouth—
Another dark shadow stepped onto the grounds to the right. Fallopolis entered the conversation, saying, “What are you trying to do here, Treant?”
The man said, “I have been ordered to force a fruit upon Erick. That is what I am doing.”
Tania said, “You were ordered to offer him a fruit.”
“I know what I was told to do, and I am doing it, and then I am leaving. Don’t you play these games with me, Tania.” He looked to Fallopolis. “Don’t you try this shit, either.” Treant looked to Erick, and pulled four fruits from the air. “Choose.”
The first was a fuzzy orange peach that glowed with an inner light. The next was a gold sphere with a tiny green leaf on the top. The third was a small bunch of green grapes; maybe seven on the stem. The fourth was a black apple with white dots, half the size of Erick’s fist.
Treant demanded, “Pick one. Or all four! The only interest I have in this scenario is my curiosity demanding to know if you’d turn shadeling, or not. Choose!”
Tania looked to Erick. “Take all four.”
Fallopolis said to Tania, “None. He shall have none, for he does not want them.”
Tania leveled her white eyes at Fallopolis. “Two.”
“None,” Fallopolis retorted.
Tania smiled. “Impossible.”
Fallopolis frowned. “One.”
“One,” Tania agreed.
They all turned to Erick. He could fight this, if he wanted. But that would just end in pain and hardship and then they’d get their way, anyway. Directly fighting this decision was not an option. So he rolled with it, and decided that he wanted the power offered to him.
Erick asked, “What do they even do?”
Treant gave a groaning sigh, like a tree being pushed around by the wind, then said, “Dexterity improves your ability to move and reduces Health consumption by giving a percentage reduction to all Health costs. Constitution gives you a percentage damage taken reduction. Perception increases your ability to notice the world and people, but the exact nature of the Stat is different for each person. That’s bleed-through from when it was Charisma.” He frowned at Erick, saying, “But you’re going to take Intelligence, so why even bother with this act?”
“I might not!” Erick said, and it was the truth, but only in the moment that he said it. When a second moment came along, Erick realized that Treant was probably right. Intelligence was the one Erick wanted. Obviously.
Treant said, “Intelligence improves your ability to fight with magic, and also reduces Mana costs by a percentage. It also makes you smarter.” He sternly said, “You could use some of that. Maybe if you were smarter you wouldn’t get involved in godly problems ever again, and I wouldn’t have been dragged out of my Garden.”
Erick deployed his Killzone-gifted idea, “Don’t you want the Crystal Forest to be turned into a real forest?” He added another, more personal touch, to try and get out from under Treant’s, and now Tania’s demand, saying, “Don’t you want forests on new worlds, too, Treant?” Erick asked. “Forests without people?” He looked to the Stat Fruits, saying, “I’m not ready to experiment with my own body like that.”
Treant’s white eyes shone fractionally brighter, for several seconds, as he breathed in, and his massive, bark-skinned body seemed to flex outward, into the light, ever so slightly. He came down from that high, and said, “The gods sent people to kill all the World Trees I ever made. Even when I was a plain, misguided orcol, trying to work for the betterment of the green, and the wild. They won’t let the forests fight for themselves. They wouldn’t let anything of that level of power be born unless it’s under their control, and now they got their wish.” He tossed the black apple to Erick, saying, “So forget about your stupid fleshy body.”
Erick caught the apple with a grip of light.
Treant said, “Eat up. You’re going to need some smarts to survive the evil they’re going to throw your way.”
Erick stared at the dark fruit in his hands, and words failed him.
Treant spoke to Tania. “My part is done. I’m not enforcing this.” He stepped away, his feet flashing dark, and then he was gone.
Tania looked to Erick, saying, “Eat it, and this will go easier for you.”
Erick frowned.
Fallopolis said, “Sorry, Erick. You should probably eat that, and then get good and sloshed so that you can go back to having a good time.” She added, “If it makes you feel any better, if you don’t increase your Intelligence with points, then you won’t have any mental changes.”
Erick gazed down at the black apple-like fruit in his hands, with its star-pattern of white spots. He looked to Fallopolis, saw the writing on the wall, and lied through his smile, “That does make me feel better.”
He bit into the apple. It tasted like how he imagined stars would taste; a cold vastness, full of light. Tania watched. Fallopolis sighed, then stepped away in a dark flash. Erick got to what he assumed would have been the core of the stardrop fruit, but there was nothing there. The fruit was flesh throughout; no seeds. Erick got down to the last bite, just as Fallopolis stepped back into the space, carrying three white and black drinks; three Vivid Glooms. Erick finished the fruit.
A blinding, ripping headache turned into a riot of color and darkness, as something intangible zapped through his body. He breathed hard, catching himself from falling onto the ground. His drink had spilled, and somehow that seemed the most awful thing in the moment.
Thoughts occurred, only to be drowned out by other ideas. An ocean of memory flooded through Erick in that second. Time flashed, and then went still. Ideas plinked against his brain like raindrops. And then, he was slightly himself again, but also very much not.
He looked to his spilled drink. Ah, whatever, Fallopolis had brought three, that meant that one was for him, right? As a consolation prize? Right on cue, Fallopolis handed him a Vivid Gloom.
He took it, saying, “Thanks.”
She asked, “What’d you get?”
Erick glanced at his Status. “Some number.”
It was 20. They didn’t have to know that, though.
He did ask, “What’s the name for the bonus at 20, though?”
Fallopolis snickered, saying, “I knew you were a smart one.”
“There is no 20 Intelligence bonus.” Tania said, “Not yet.” And apparently that was enough conversation for her; her job was done. She stepped away in a flash of black.
Erick looked to Fallopolis, “Is that true, about not putting points into it?”
“Well.” Fallopolis sat down on the stone amphitheater seating, next to Erick. “I think so.”
Quilatalap, from Erick’s other side, said, “The first point does give some change; tests have confirmed it.”
“What sort of tests?”
“Adventurers of this city who were captured and used in sapient experimentation,” Quilatalap said.
“Who made the trees?” Erick asked. “I heard that they were made of souls. It was Treant, right?” He looked to Quilatalap.
The archlich said, “I’m pretty sure it was Treant.” He looked away, thinking. “And a few others. Tania was directly involved. Not sure who else. I’m not privy to a lot of the things that happen around here.”
Fallopolis said, “Tania, Treant, Rodel, a few others you haven’t met yet. Lapis, for sure. She’s the Shade of Enchantments.”
“Now there’s a good topic!” Erick asked, “How do enchantments work?”
Fallopolis looked to him, asking, “You’re moving on from this forced Stat rather fast?”
“I moved on rather fast when you tried to do that rhyme at me, too. And that reminds me! How do blessings and curses work?” He looked to Quilatalap, saying, “Got any tips, teach?”
Quilatalap looked to Erick, up and down, then said, “Are you feeling okay? You seem off.”
Erick was feeling fine. Better than fine, actually. “Maybe a little worked up. There’s nothing better than getting over the horror and the awfulness of Shades than by learning something new!” He added, “And I hope they all heard me say that, too.” Erick shot to his feet, deciding, “I need to work on some Stat enchantments for Intelligence!” He glanced from Fallopolis to Quilatalap, saying, “I bet I’ve messed up my rings and my belt and am thoroughly harming myself with these unbalanced Stats.” He looked to Fallopolis, saying, “Give me a moment and I can help you kill some more Shades.” He held a hand out and channeled mana through his Intelligence, producing a manalight of palest violet. “Making new jewelry should be easy enough!”
Fallopolis glanced from Erick to Quilatalap, as she set her drink down and sat a bit taller. Quilatalap leaned away from Erick, regarding him. Erick, for his part, produced a maskward for Intelligence, combining it with a maskward for all the other stats, making a dense sphere of bright purple where all other light was denied.
Tania stepped back onto the lawn, not five meters away.
Erick waved to her. “Oh, hi! I’m going to make some magic!”
She frowned at him, but said nothing. After a moment, Bulgan appeared at her side, like some dark, male shadow a full half-meter taller than her, and with his arms crossed, he glared at Erick.
“An audience!” Erick cheered, “Fantastic!”
Fallopolis mumbled, “Shit. You guys. I think you broke him.”
“I’M NOT BROKEN!” Erick said, “I just have 20 Intelligence now! And some things are much clearer than they used to be! In fact. I think I can do THIS. It should work. It makes sense, anyway.”
Erick had an Ophiel conjure a [Prismatic Ward] to the side, where he then proceeded to have another Ophiel copy the ring on his finger, and while the copy would be non-magical, the metals of the surface would be conductive to magic, for that was the necessary thing. He then took the ring and put it into the Intelligence and All-Stats maskwa—
It was not a true All-Stats maskward. Erick would have to fix that, next.
He scratched the metallic surface of the ring, and pumped all of his Stat light into the break. When he knew it couldn’t handle any more, he Shaped a [Mend] onto the scratch, leaving the rest of the ring untouched by that ‘fixing’ magic.
He took off a ring, and then put on the new one. Success!
He smiled, “Fifty Intelligence! That was simple enough.”
He repeated the process with a second ring, while three more Shades stepped onto the grounds around Erick. He greeted a few of the ones he recognized from Killzone’s primer, naming each one as they appeared. It was so much easier to remember everything with all this Intelligence. By the time he was finished with the second ring and was sitting pretty at 81 Intelligence, there was a dark-skinned human woman over there, who was sort of muscular and also androgynous. She was Lapis, the Shade of Enchantment. She was watching Erick with keen eyes, as Erick watched her. He had been waiting for her to appear, because obviously she was going to appear when Erick was working on enchantments out in the open like this.
Erick invited her over, “Hey, Lapis! Got the colors for the other three Stats?”
Lapis broke into a wide smile, but that smile quickly vanished as she looked to the right.
Erick turned to see. Ah. Tania was eyeing him, and then Lapis. Bulgan was eyeing him. He looked around. A lot of Shades were eyeing him. Ah! Whatever. He turned back to Lapis, saying, “Don’t mind them! We’re making enchantment progress! Don’t you want to help?”
Lapis decided something in that moment. She decided to ignore the silent, brooding, thinking Tania. Lapis walked right up to Erick, saying, “I have those colors. Here, let me help you.” She held out her hand, and produced a yellow light.
“Constitution.” Erick waved a maskward into the air of the appropriate color. “Have that one.”
Lapis smiled, and it was greedy and malevolent and yet, Erick didn’t care. “But can you combine it with the others?” She held up one hand, and produced a light of orange make. She held up her other hand, and produced green. “Dexterity and Perception, though I appreciated it more when it was Charisma.”
“Of course you did.” Erick said, “You’re using it on me right now, and though my dick is hard, my mind says no, so I am glad to see that Intelligence has some sort of a natural counter to Charisma.”
Lapis laughed. She wasn’t the only one, though some of the laughs were more nervous than indicative of mirth.
Erick said, “Oh, drat. How do you change the color of your magic?” He looked around for an answer, saying, “I still haven’t figured that out.”
Lapis said, “Mana Altering for color. Do it often enough and it becomes second nature.”
“WHAT!” Erick said, “It’s that easy!?”
Lapis said, “It’s easier said than done—”
Erick was already conjuring other colors of mana from his hands. “Easy.”
With a concentrated thought, Erick combined all eight individual maskwards into something that let all eight colors through, and none of the others.
An oddly-white maskward appeared in the air. It wasn’t actually white. It was more… iridescent. Pearlescent. Shimmery.
With another copy of his rings, Erick set them into the new oddly-white maskward, and channeled mana into scratches in the rings. A pair of [Mend]s later, and Erick had two nice rings. He put them on.
He briefly saw his Status.
Erick Flatt
Human?, age 48
Level 85, Class: Particle Mage
Exp: 7.77 e17 / 6.79 e 19
Class: 10/10
Points: 19
HP
6,930/6930
76,770 per day
MP
15,211/17,460
76,770 per day
Strength
20
+211
[231]
Vitality
20
+211
[231]
Dexterity
7
+61
[68]
Constitution
20
+61
[81]
Perception
19
+61
[80]
Willpower
80
+211
[291]
Focus
80
+211
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
[291]
Intelligence
20
+61
[81]
Favored Ability waiting!
Favored Ability waiting!
Favored Ability waiting!
He mumbled, “Oh hey, look! I unlocked all of them! That was easy.” But it probably came out rather unintelligible because half his face was numb, and drooping. And then his right arm flickered out, uncontrolled. He accidentally slapped himself. He yelled at his arm, “Stop that!”
And then he collapsed.
- - - -
Erick floated above white clouds, in a blue sky.
“Oh. Hello, Rozeta.” Erick said, to the endless vision. “Are you around here, somewhere?”
There was no immediate response.
Instead, Erick had a long moment to realize what he had just done in the center of all those Shades, and what had just happened, and where his body was, and the fact that he had left that oddly-white orb in the air. Anyone could use that orb, now. Erick had created something that he probably shouldn’t have created. If his rings unlocked all the Stats for him, then his rings would unlock all the Stats for everyone? Did he have that right?
“Fuck.” Erick said, “Shit.”
“Yup.” In her white wrought form, Rozeta stepped onto the cloud next to him, and sat down, saying, “You gave them a lot of power. They kinda tricked it out of you, but that’s fine. They were almost there, anyway.”
“It’s the Intelligence. It’s doing something to my cognitive functions. I’m remembering things that I thought I had forgotten and I want to DO ALL THE THINGS. Like figuring out how atomic magic has been Banned or—” He controlled himself for a moment, coming back to himself, as he said, “I remember every single detail of every single physics lesson I ever took to help Jane pass her own classes. I remember… I remember a lot. Oh. Shit. Was your universe Vacuum Decayed?” A sudden panic gripped him. “OH SHIT. Could you Vacuum Decay THIS universe?” For the longest eternity and also no time at all, Erick had a moment, and then he let it go. “Ah. Shit.” And then he latched onto another topic, saying, “But why were the Time Wizards not able to see the Sundering happen before it happened? That seems like someone is lying or they just don’t have the whole story.” He added, “Or time was not what people thought it was. There’s a lot of ideas about time not being real in this universe, too.”
“Erick.” Rozeta said, “I need you to focus on the moment.”
“I am focused!” He joked, “My main Stat is Focus! Or at least it was.” He asked, “OH OH! I have an 81 in Constitution! Does that mean I take 81 percent less damage from every attack?”
“Focus.”
Erick looked to Rozeta; for some reason he had looked away. “What?!” He narrowed his eyes at her, then his eyes flew wide open. “You’re going to do something to me!”
“I’m not going to do anything to you.”
“Which means you’ve already done it.” Erick lamented for a fraction of a second, then decided he wanted to get something for himself out of all this. He asked, “What’s all this about mana generation and soul sundering and World Trees and new worlds and shit? Is that really how it’s going to go down?” He added, “And that was not very succinct or understandable, but you understood me, yes? Of course you do; you’re a god. If anyone doesn’t understand anything, it’s me.”
“I understand you.” Rozeta said, “But back to the issue at hand—”
“No. No deflection! This is my time to talk, and I want answers.” Erick said, “Ever since I got to Veird and made this Particle Magic, every single god has wanted a piece of me. And now I find out that some possible-planar guy named Xoat started your Old Cosmology!” He stared at the goddess in front of him, saying, “You know what I said to Melemizargo when I met him that first time, don’t you? I sang to him like an old friend! I called him that! Serendipity or planning! Which was it?!” He added, “Probably some time-shit.”
Rozeta sighed. “Serendipity. Or maybe it was the plan of a long dead god. Maybe it was the mana itself, untethered due to the madness of its current shepherd, searching for someone it had known a long, long time ago, and it found you. It would take years for me to properly explain planar-distance translocation, but I am not going to do that.”
Half hysterical, Erick straight-up asked, “Am I the reincarnation of Xoat?!”
“Probably not.”
“WHAT?!”
“We did not have the concept of reincarnation before you came along and gave rise to that word. The words we used for ‘reincarnation’ were either ‘resurrection’, or some variation of the word ‘summon’.” She said, “So could you be a reincarnation? Maybe. But likely not, for all that was Xoat was transformed into our Old Cosmology. That much of Shade history is true. We are living in the pieces of him, right now. This means that you literally cannot be Xoat, for you are certainly not everything around you.”
“Fine. Whatever. Let’s discard the idea that your Xoat Cosmology fell into my universe so long ago and this reality all around us is only a fraction of that whole.” He added, “Which was lost to you.”
Rozeta nodded, then sarcastically said, “Yes. Let us discard that impossible-to-verify idea right now.”
“Fine!” Erick asked, “Am I a Wizard, or not?”
“Yes, but that’s not important right now.”
“Fine fine fine!” Erick said, “Then go on and tell me what IS important. Get on with your spiel and then send me back so I can… So I can do something! I’ll figure it out.”
“You’re in a moment of Stat Dissonance.” Rozeta said, “I pulled you into this moment because if you were to continue to experience this down there, then they would engineer it such that you would give them whatever they wanted. You fell into their trap by accepting that Stardrop, and then you went wild in the storm of your resurfacing memories.”
Erick had a dozen thoughts at once, and then he came back to himself, saying, “You’re not here to force something upon me, or to take something away.”
“I am not forcing anything upon you except for you to stand before my presence for as long as you desire.” Rozeta said, “I am doing this to give you the time necessary to acclimate to your new existence. This acclimation will go faster if you concentrate on centering yourself. You would do well to have this experience over and done with sooner rather than later.”
“Because Melemizargo can interrupt this if he notices.”
Rozeta shook her head. “He’s already noticed.” She turned her head to the left, and Erick followed her gaze. A Darkness held on the edge of the blue sky, like an unmoving ink stain. Rozeta said, “I might be able to hold him back for as long as you need, but not as long as you want. You need to center yourself, because you are surrounded by enemies and too many powers are interested in your future.”
Erick stared at the goddess, demanding, “I want my questions about the soul sundering and mana trees and new worlds answered.”
Rozeta frowned a little, but answered, “The soul sundering would come from those who choose The End granted by Phagar. It is a painless process for gods to commit. You and the other Wizards currently alive on Veird wouldn’t need to be involved in this at all. In fact, we would prefer you not be involved at all. Not right away, anyway.”
Erick gasped. He asked, “You’re really going to do that, then? Travel to new worlds? Set up new Scripts? When? How? What is a sundered soul? I don’t understand any of that.”
“And you likely never will, for what you call a ‘sundered soul’ is not actually what is happening at all.” Rozeta paused for a moment, then said, “Quilatalap can help you with this. He’s rather neutral—”
Erick gasped again, as he smiled, then laughed, then giggled like a schoolgirl. “He’s not evil?!” Waves of laughter turned into tears, as Erick got out, “Oh my gods! He’s not evil.” And then the real tears came, as a thousand individual moments of pressure and horror came crashing down upon him, and he wished that this Shadow’s Feast was over and that he was on a vacation or something where he didn’t have to think and plot and plan around Shades and gods and world changing events. It took a long moment before the rolling emotions stopped, and he came back to himself. And then he had another thought. He looked to Rozeta, saying, “Ah. Shit. You said he was neutral. Not that he wasn’t evil.”
Rozeta said, “My own definition of evil is rather subjective. It has to be, for magic must remain neutral in all ways, and at all times. But Quilatalap… Quilatalap never hurts others when he has a choice, and he almost always has a choice. That is rather ‘not-evil’, for many definitions of such.”
“But there’s a caveat to all that,” Erick said, reading between the lines.
“Quilatalap has done just as many horrible things and just as many wondrous, great things, as anyone else his age. If we were still in the Old Cosmology, he might have been leading a school these days, teaching the young and raising up the mages of tomorrow to help Koyabez keep his parts of the universe more stable. More peaceful.
“Necromancy…” Rozeta got a far-off look in her eyes, and her voice turned distant. “Necromancy used to help the Peacekeepers of Koyabez enter the dangerous territories of warring factions, to calm the wars and help who ever they could help, for if they died, they would just come back and try again. Not many people were able to accomplish this level of necromancy, and we were lucky Quilatalap was there on Veird at the time of the Sundering. We would have never survived that event if it wasn’t for people like him.
“After the Sundering, necromancy would have been viewed the same on Veird, if not for the destruction of the Halves, and the creation of the Orcols.
“In the beginning of the Script, there was no magic. The mortals of this world had to create it themselves. Quilatalap created necromancy, and everything was going… Not well. But we survived, and that’s what was important. And then the Old Demons murdered all Halves. We tried to fix that, and we did, for a certain understanding of ‘fix’.
“This fix created the Orcols, and inflicted them with the Rage. Quilatalap was no different in this regard. For the first time in his life, that peaceful man joined a war. He joined The War, where the newly-created Orcols unified under the Rage, and attempted to kill everyone else. His necromancy made them unstoppable, and if it weren’t for Aloethag becoming who she became, draining the orcols of their Rage, then we would have all died, not 35 years out from surviving the Sundering.
“Quilatalap's creation of necromancy and his actions in that time of war ran him afoul of many, many parties, and those wounds have never healed. Angels and demons both hate him. That man has enemies the world over. If he wasn’t in Ar’Kendrithyst, someone would track him down and kill him. The Interfaith Church has been trying to assassinate him for a millennium.”
The goddess’s calm voice, as well as the passing of time, and her words, brought Erick a bit of solace. A bit more to himself, as the storm of ideas inside his head calmed to something less forceful.
Erick said, “You’re trying to get me to talk to him. To confide in him.”
“I am. That is correct.” Rozeta said, “You two are rather similar. He gifted necromancy to the Script. You gave Particle Magic. His war is long over, and he’s been trying to survive the aftermath all this time. Your war is just beginning.”
Erick felt a little bit of his manic episode pass, as he said, “I might have made Particle Magic, but I have nothing else to give. You said I didn’t have to be involved.”
“And you don’t.” Rozeta continued, “But the Shades are trying to make you involved so that they can leverage the controls they already have over you in order to force you to be involved, in order to gain control over worlds yet to come.” She paused, then said, “I see you understand.”
“Now that you’ve pointed it out. Sure.” With that thought, Erick felt a certain kind of full-calmness spread throughout his body, as he knew now what he had to do. With that feeling, came a thought. “Ah. Did I just acclimate? I think I did. But… What are these Stats going to do to me? Short term and long term?”
“Don’t trust any of these new Stats, Erick. They all have diminishing returns. They’re not as powerful as the originals. 81 Constitution does not meant 81 percent damage reduction, and even with the other defensive skills out there, like [Defend], you might still take 25 percent of the damage you would have taken.” She stressed, “But a quarter of a million damage is still more than enough to end you. Do not get cocky.”
Erick followed the logic, saying, “And 81 Intelligence doesn’t mean free spells.”
“Correct. There is always a cost to mag—” Rozeta suddenly frowned. She looked past Erick.
Erick turned.
The blot in the sky was darker, and expanding.
Melemizargo’s voice carried, but it was softer than usual, “We could work on all of that, Rozeta. Make these new Stats something coherent with a new Script. One we can put on other planets out there.”
Rozeta sighed. “We’re not talking.” Suddenly, with a tone Erick knew all too well, that Jane had used on him when he had fucked up, Rozeta spoke past Erick, her voice light, like a lure waiting to capture and drag the object of her ire down into the depths of her displeasure, “We will not talk until at least a decade has passed, and your actions haven’t doomed us all in the meantime. So if you could: go away, now.”
Clouds shifted.
Erick’s cloud flowed away, through the blue, as Rozeta’s cloud broke from his, flowing off into the distance, to where the blue sky met the black void. White stars glowed in those depths, but two of those stars were larger than most; they were eyes. Melemizargo, in all his dragon form, hid in that void, like a nebula rarely seen except in the brightest artistic interpretations of the night sky. Erick blinked, and Rozeta was a dragon, sinuous and white-iridescent, coiling through the endless blue sky.
Melemizargo spoke to his daughter, “We can—”
Rozeta spoke to her father, “We cannot. Because—”
They spoke fast, in words Erick barely caught.
“— well how—”
“A night of—”
“—can I—”
“Centuries! Yes!”
Melemizargo recoiled, “But I—”
The two gods had been talking for less than a second, and also for hours. Rozeta jolted. She turned to Erick. Her voice slowed to a human-level of speed, saying, “The Shades barely answer to my father. Don’t trust his word to keep you safe.”
Melemizargo frowned, then turned to Erick, saying, “She’s right. She shouldn’t be correct in this, but she is, and I would be blind to not see this truth. I cannot protect you from them, and I cannot protect them from you. But please, know this: Some of them are salvageable. Don’t kill too many if you can help it. I would be most appreciative if you could save whoever you can save.”
“Oh?!” Rozeta reared back, and glared at the Darkness in the sky. With an entirely new level of sarcasm in her voice, she said, “Will you actually abide by the divine mandate to let mortals handle mortals? To guide with words and help, instead of clawing and Wizarding your way through your problems? Or maybe you’re only doing this right now because it is convenient for you to use MY HOLY COMMUNION with Erick to get what YOU WANT, in an attempt to show yourself to be more reasonable than ever before?” With the voice of a goddess, Rozeta demanded, “Is that your plot?!”
Melemizargo retorted with the voice of a sorry father, “No! I am just being honest with him because that is the right thing to—”
“Don’t you dare start talking about the right thing—”
Erick dropped out of the clouds as two gods began arguing again.
- - - -
Erick opened his eyes.
He was still on the grass above the music, above the party. Erick knew this, even before he moved his head, or checked the eyes of his Ophiel. Though, upon checking on his Ophiel, he noticed quite a few things happening all at once, all around him. He filed away those interactions for later, but he kept in mind Bulgan, smiling like he had won a great victory, and Tania sighing, like she had lost something important, and Fallopolis and Priestess, both beside themselves with worry. And then the emotions of those four shifted, as Erick stirred awake. Bulgan frowned. Tania’s face became a mask of composed perfection. Fallopolis almost went to Erick, but she held herself back by the accusing gazes of every other Shade.
Barely a second has passed since Erick came back to himself, and yet, it felt like a minute had passed.
… He might have technically acclimated to these True All-Stat rings, but Perception and Intelligence, in particular, were going to take some time. People weren’t meant to notice the whorls of air in their sight, or the dark grubs burying themselves in the dirt, or the perspiration on the necks of all the servers downstairs, and upon some of the Shades. Everyone was on edge—
No. Wait. Some people weren’t on edge at all.
Ah. Those were the crazy ones, weren’t they. The ones that were truly beyond hope of normal interactions with society. They were the ones that saw prey all around them, and were so used to getting what they wanted, that they didn’t know that the world was changing out from under their feet. They didn’t know their god had abandoned them.
Erick had not yet gotten up, or done anything to lift himself from the soft, grassy ground. He still looked to Tania, though, but with Ophiels’ eyes. The Champion of Melemizargo was the key person in this gathering of 29 Shades. The woman was tense; her face was a mask, but—
And then Tania proved that she was not to be underestimated. She sensed Erick’s eyes upon her, either through her spiders sitting all around, or through some other way. Erick couldn’t understand her at all. Something had shifted. And then Erick recognized the change. She was in her shadowform. She had put up her total defenses. She had prepared herself against Erick. Because… Because…
Because she knew that Melemizargo had abandoned them!
Holy shit! She knew that the vast majority of their current Clergy were all dead Shades walking, and as soon as most of them were dead, the rest would follow, because civilization had had enough of them, and if they couldn’t defend themselves, then it was time to get rid of them all.
And with that realization, another shattering thought came down the line:
No one else knew of that abandonment. Tania was the only Shade in the know. If the full Clergy had known, they would go rampant and out of control and that would be the final straw and Melemizargo could officially declare a purge of his own Clergy. Either his current Clergy would die to themselves, and then the world, or they would die to Melemizargo himself. But they would all die, sooner, rather than later.
That Dark god probably had other people lined up, ready to take on the positions the Shades around him had filled, ready to become Shades themselves.
And even if he didn’t, Melemizargo could probably survive for a long time without his people, without his worshiping base. Decades were certainly possible. Centuries were probable. He was a god with a physical body, after all.
Aloethag, the goddess of Beauty and Brutality, back when she was simply Aloeth, the goddess of Beauty and the elves, had survived for a long time without her elves. All the elves had died within years of coming to Veird, after the Sundering, but Aloethag managed to survive for decades. She even survived till after the Deaths of all Halves, and after the Orcol Wars, when she then took over the Rage of the Orcols for her own benefit. That event was 35 years Post Sundering.
Melemizargo’s plan was to kill his entire Clergy. Maybe the Dark Dragon or others would save a few, but most would die. He had even said to Erick that he would appreciate the saving of a few good ones. But.
Did Erick want to save a few Shades?
Oh. Wow.
No.
No he did not.
Two seconds had passed since Erick awoke.
A brief thought came. Erick could open with an Aurified [Vivid Gloom], killing lots of the Shades all around him. His own sunform was off since he had gone unconscious and lost those spells. But he could survive a moment of [Vivid Gloom], maybe.
But. No.
Erick had lost his opportunity for murder, and he wasn’t prepared to cause that murder, anyway. As that thought occurred, he was glad that he had lost that chance. The Shades were an extinct people, they just didn’t know it yet. A moment of clarity slammed into Erick’s mind like a freight truck: was that extinction fate a good thing, or a bad thing? Personally, Erick didn’t want to help that fate to happen. Intellectually, if that death occurred really fast, then the world could move on, and there wouldn’t be a city of Archmages tearing itself and the rest of the world apart in their death throes.
Ah. That was why Goldie and Tania and others had okayed the murders of Shades at the party.
Usually, there was violence every year, but this year it was deadly violence with a purpose, and with a cover. Tania acted like the problematic Shades were problems to be dealt with, but she turned around and said that the vast majority of Shades were okay.
But. No. She was thinning the herd to prepare for a full culling, all the way down to 3 or 4 Shades, who could then go into hiding and reemerge after a suitably long time, after Melemizargo reintroduced his Shades into this universe. Tania was walking a tightrope across a chasm of death-by-Shades, or death-by-all-the-rest-of-the-world.
Fallopolis broke Erick from his reverie, asking, “Are you… Are you okay, dear?”
Erick was still on the ground. Five seconds had passed since he awoke.
He spoke to the sky, “I think so.” He sat up. He looked around, at the dead people staring at him; none of them aware that their executions were just a matter of time and place and circumstance away. He said to Fallopolis, “I’m feeling great.” He stood up, and standing was as simple as desiring it. Before his Dexterity, any movement at all would have taken some effort; some drain on his seemingly endless Health resources. But now…
His body had gone through a shift, like when he gained Rozeta’s Boon of Recovery. This, now, was not just a younger body, like it was back then. Erick felt… He felt naturally limber. If he wanted, he could fall upon his hand, and do a slow-motion cartwheel. But now was not the time for that.
He put on a smile, and spoke to the crowd, “So that was interesting! Sorry for worrying everyone. I’m fine. Got all the Stats unlocked, though. That’s a thing that can be done, apparently.” He instantly canceled the maskward in the air in front of him. “But I see some of you plotting to make your own, so that’s not going to happen without my permission.”
Lapis, still standing nearer than most, switched from visible anger, to quietly questioning what she was seeing. The transition of emotion was so smooth and so barely-there, that Erick would have never have caught it, if he was his old self. She was going to try and get him to help her, somehow. What were her goals, though? Erick didn’t know enough about her, but he probably would, when this was all over.
Lapis said, “I’ve already gifted you some knowledge. That should buy me some returns—”
Priestess spoke up, “No one is getting anything from Erick. Shoo! All of you. Lapis. No.”
Lapis said to Erick, “We can talk later.”
“He’s given us enough.” Priestess stared at Lapis with starbright eye sockets. “You’re done here.” She fluttered her bone hands forward, at everyone, saying, “Everyone, leave. Back to the party.”
Before anyone could depart, or move, or make their intentions known, Bulgan spoke, “I want to know if he’s still human.”
Everyone paused.
Erick casually turned to the man who had tried to kill him several times over. “There is a question mark there, upon my Status.” He turned on his [Greater Lightwalk], but kept the activation barely visible, and just inside his shoes, at the moment. It wouldn’t be enough to protect him from Bulgan; not without [Lodestar], too. But maybe he could run away if things turned ugly. Erick asked his own loaded question of Bulgan, “Do you feel you are a benefit to the Clergy?”
Bulgan said, “I think everyone here can see the benefit of having one of us specifically tailored to take you down.”
The crowd agreed with him, though no one said anything, they spoke volumes with their bodies, and their slight turns of head, and in the tensions in their shoulders. Erick saw it all, with the Ophiel all around. Now was not the time for a confrontation. Erick would lose, and he would lose hard.
Erick said, “Quite reason… able...” He had an idea. He thought it over for a hot three seconds, then decided to let it out there. “So. I’d like to offer my help to any Shade who wants it! The only caveats are that you’ve got to be trying to make the world a better place for all involved, and then I will help you in those endeavors.” He looked around, “I’m sure none of you are truly bad people. You’re just misunderstood. Your power has given you too many advantages and thus you see others as less than sapient—”
A woman Shade wearing clouds for a dress and a disgusted look upon her face stepped away in a flash of shadows. Three more rapidly followed.
Erick continued, undaunted, “All you have to do is tell me about all of your current projects and then I can come with you to verify your projects and we can talk about—”
Five more Shades stepped away. Then seven more departed the field. Erick heard a muttered, ‘No thanks.’
Erick continued, “And we can solve some problems! Make the world a better place! Turn the Crystal Forest into real forests! Hunt down and end the Moon Reacher threat! No one likes those guys, am I right? Maybe we could even work to end the Quiet War, once and for all—”
More Shades left. Soon, almost all of them were gone.
Bulgan, Tania, Priestess, and Fallopolis remained.
Erick said, “Ah. Well. No takers, then.”
Priestess happily said, “Don’t worry about them. They’ll come around, eventually. I am happy to see you want to become involved, though. That is a welcome change. What was the cause, do you think?”
Erick snorted, “Well that’s a loaded question.”
“It is.” Priestess said, “But please answer, anyway.”
“Intelligence has got me thinking it’s easier to work with the systems already in place then to try and cull them from existence.”
Priestess seemed to withhold judgment, as she spoke in an even-tone, saying, “I hope that is true. I like you Erick. I like who you are, as a person. But you have been poisoned by civilization into seeing the Shades as evil incarnate. And we are not. Not anymore.” She added, “You speak of culling, but we have already done this much today. The true work begins now, and it won’t be as easy as murdering the murderers. The flock must be brought to heel, and we must heal the damage we have done. I hope you speak true words about helping Erick, for I can give you many ways to help our Clergy, if you are willing.”
Erick spoke what may or may not have been a lie, “I can help with that.”
Priestess nodded, and sighed a happy sigh. She said, “Good. But we can delay that for a day. You are acclimating, and there is a Feast to be had. See you later, Erick.” She floated away.
Erick bid Priestess farewell, then turned to Tania.
The Champion of Melemizargo regarded Erick, then asked, “Do you understand the nature of the current crisis?”
“So you would truly call it a crisis?”
“I would.” She spoke, and Erick understood the meaning behind her words, “But make no mistake: It is a crisis for you, and everyone else. I aim to limit the damage, and to rebuild from the wreckage.”
Bulgan’s eyebrows went up, as he whispered to her, “What are you talking about?”
Tania continued, without care for her right-hand man, “What is your aim, Erick?”
“I aim to help those who should be helped.” He said, “I am not beyond forgiveness.”
“I will hold you to that, Erick.” Tania asked, “Do I have to mention any threats?”
“No.” Erick said, “You do not.”
Tania said, “Good.”
She stepped away; her feet blinking black momentarily. Bulgan looked to the right, to where Tania might have gone. Then he looked to Erick. His emotions were unreadable, but he might have been worried; Erick was unsure. Bulgan stepped away without another word.
Fallopolis whispered into the shadows inside his ear, “I’m ready to start the killing as soon as you are.”
Erick turned to the elderly Shade, who was now sitting on a stone bench of the amphitheater, not three meters from Quilatalap, who had yet to say a single word. The archlich certainly looked concerned, though. His face was in a scrunch, while his lips were in a frown, showing his lower fangs.
Erick said to Fallopolis, “I seem to have spilled my drink. Party foul, I know. You helped so much to get those other ones, today. I’ll get the next round.”
Fallopolis smiled. “Want some help getting those drinks?”
“Maybe tomorrow.”
Fallopolis nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”
Quilatalap’s frown deepened. He sent to Erick, ‘Oh, please. You’re not being nearly clever enough. Don’t fight them Erick. They’ll kill you. Don’t make me help them against you. Ar’Kendrithyst is the only place that I can live in relative peace.’
Erick told the man, ‘Melemizargo has withdrawn his protection from all the Shades. The Clergy is dying but it doesn’t know it yet. I heard this from the dragon himself.’
Quilatalap startled.
Fallopolis put her fists to her hips, saying, “Unless that’s pillow talk, I want in!”
Erick stared at the pouting Shade. He stared for a long moment. She stared back. Erick looked to Quilatalap, and the orcol nodded. Erick let Fallopolis in on the talk.
The first Feast ended without further incident, though Fallopolis did spend the rest of the time dancing and laughing at no one in particular. That was odd, but not too odd for her.