“So. Violet.” Erick calmed the rage crawling over his mind, and said, “Someone tried to extort some things from me and then kill not only me, but also the kid they used to give me the message, and you. What’s the usual outcome of something like this? Is there a procedure, or other such necessary steps to take, going forward?”

Violet waved her hand out, scattering away glowing shards of light that fell to the ground like concentrated acid, boring holes where they touched stone. A few sparks touched her clothes, but failed to do more than reveal the dark skin underneath her dark garments. All in all, her capture and destruction of the spell aimed at her produced minimal collateral damage.

The light missiles that tried to strike Erick, and the kid three streets over, had been splashed around the whole area, cutting holes into walls and streets. Erick still felt a little twinge of guilt that he hadn’t thought to minimize that splash. He hadn’t even known that the spells would splash, but he could take that into account next time someone fired magic at him.

Violet composed herself and spoke with a professional tone, “Politics comes first. How you go about handling this attempt on your life and your sovereignty, and if you ask for help from others, will either endear you or damn you in the eyes of the Clergy and the populace. Melemizargo is all about personal strength helping to strengthen those around you, so you must protect yourself and your own, for you are the only power you can count on when the horde is beating down the doors.”

“I imagined that’s how it would be.” Erick said, “Thank you, Violet. I will begin doing that right now.”

Erick had some experience with tracking people down and the various ways the people of Veird did such a thing. But the first thing he did was have a nearby Ophiel release a [Mending Aura] into the surrounding space, removing the holes in the ground, repairing the nearby windows, and mending Violet’s clothes for her. Queen would appreciate that, and being a good guest seemed like a good idea, even though he hated the idea of playing nice with Shades.

He pointed in the direction where the kid was, saying to Violet, “The pawn is over there. I am going to ask him some questions.” And then he took a light step, and was there.

Beside a building and street that had turned to swiss cheese, was a kid, wrapped in light; trapped and also protected by Ophiel’s sunform. He had been terrified, and according to everything Erick saw with his multiple eyesights, and according to the tears still rolling down the kid’s face, he was still terrified, but he was holding it together. The kid was in his late teens. Human. He wore decent clothes, but nothing special. He stood tall, putting on a brave face.

Erick asked, “Hello. It seems you were involved in something you wished not to be a part of. Do I have that correct?”

The kid was brave, Erick had to give him that. He stood tall and unflinching, and said, “Yes, sir.”

Erick nodded, then said, “This was a big part of your life, I’m sure, but it will be a very small part of mine, for I do not take kindly to the kinds of threats I heard from the people who used you to get to me. The spell I took off of you looked very similar to a [Force Bomb], so I’m positive you were meant to die; possibly so that I wouldn’t be able to ask you questions. The missile was the backup plan.”

Erick didn’t mention how there were a hundred other ways to go about this that might not leave much of a trace, but a theoretical [Conjure Force Elemental], or a one-off [Familiar], or a letter, or any of those, would likely have not have seemed like a real threat. So they sent this kid to die, to prove a point to Erick.

That was their second mistake. The first was threatening him and his family at all.

Erick asked, “What would you like to happen to the people who did this to you?”

Erick watched as the kid’s tattered soul solidified; like a storm-tossed sea turning calm.

Violet stepped to the street ahead of Erick, nodded at him, and turned, to take a stance in the middle of the road, to watch as the three other people in sight either walked, ran, or politely scrambled to leave the location any way they could.

With dried tears, the kid said to Erick, “I would like the people who did this to me to die.”

Erick was under no illusions as to what the vagaries of life demanded of him, at this juncture, in this place, if he was to keep any semblance of peace in his own life, going forward. If he didn’t do what was necessary, then others would take advantage of him, as the people behind this attack had tried to do.

So Erick said, “Then tell me everything you know, and I will see justice done.”

The kid started talking.

Near as Erick could tell, the kid, who was named Lerreg, did not lie. Erick did not move him from that spot on the sidewalk, but he did have some Ophiel summon some chairs, as he surrounded the area with a [Visual Disruption Ward], and an [Audio Disruption Ward]. With those two spells cast, the land around Erick and Lerreg became a jumble of small noises and impressionist, Picasso-like blobs.

Erick… did not like that effect.

After forty five seconds passed, with Lerreg speaking the whole time, Erick asking questions, and also casting spells in the appropriate locations through his Ophiel, decided that the multiple casts it took to put up both the Visual and Audio disruptions took too long. On a whim, he decided to combine the separate effects into a new spell, where light and sound and information came in just fine, but where information exited the space in a twisted jumble, allowing no proper sight or sounds to escape to the outside. A blue box appeared.

Privacy Ward, instant, long range, 50 mana

Disrupt all information leaving a large space. Lasts 1 hour.

Erick canceled the initial [Disruption Ward]s.

From the outside, Erick appeared to have turned his part of the world into a jumbled rainbow. From the inside, everything turned crystal-clear. A slight crystalline structure to the air, about four meters out from him and Lerreg, was the only indication of any nearby magic.

Lerreg looked to the crystalline air.

“I just made a new spell; don’t worry about the change.” Erick said, “No one can see us or hear us. So. As you were saying? Rivals in the Arcanaeum?”

Lerreg remembered where he was, and who he was talking to. His eyes went wide, as he began talking again, and Erick recast some [Cascade Imaging]s in other locations in the Arcanaeum District, only thirty kilometers away.

Lerreg had spoken of a normal enough life living in the Brightwater District, primarily over in Truedark Arcanaeum’s surrounding towns. He had graduated from gradeschool this year, and was scouting departments at Truedark for further education, and visiting various thesis presentations, when he was picked up somewhere around the marine biology department.

Truedark Arcanaeum’s District was a beautiful land of rolling green mountains and valleys, along with floating mountains made of crystal and castle, scattered over a 30 kilometer arc of Brightwater’s western coast, and about 400 square kilometers of mountainous green land beyond that coast. All of the Arcanaeum District was still a good twenty kilometers below the roof of the Brightwater District, but it seemed rather densely populated.

Those floating islands were rather impressive. There were at least ten of them, with some that looked like multiple mountains stacked atop each other, while some of the floating mountains were barely lifted from land below. There must have been some Underworld gravity fuckery happening to keep those mountains in the air, but if it was magic keeping them aloft, then that magic was massively impressive. After all, enchanted items were not permanent, so if magical items were keeping those mountains aloft, it had to be artifact-level enchantments. All of the various enchanting knowledge Erick had ever read percolated in his mind as he looked upon the glowing castles in the sky, and watched the various platforms floating up and down from those castles, carrying people to wherever they needed to be.

It was all quite impressive.

And Erick had already scanned the whole place. He found Lerregs’ DNA in multiple locations. Investigating those locations was as easy as splitting his focus several ways, and flashing out [Lodestar] empowered Imagings wherever necessary. While Erick followed faint blue markings and investigated denser blue areas, Lerreg spoke of his last memories, which were only an hour old. Finding the scene of that crime was just a matter of following the blue. Erick, or rather Ophiel, ended up at a rather clean location on the intersection of an outdoor walkway, near a bench where Lerreg said he had sat down while reading a book, before a thesis presentation was set to begin in a few hours.

Erick did not have [Witness] yet, but after telling Lerreg to quiet while he concentrated, and then one minute later, Erick saw those who had taken Lerreg. Looking back a few hours wasn’t that difficult, it seemed. Erick found Lerreg sitting on the bench, reading, when the kidnapping occurred.

Two rapid blurs of invisible movement, layered in dense, obscuring magics, grabbed Lerreg. There was a scuffle that was little more than a beat down against Lerreg, and then he, too, was surrounded by obscuring magics and taken away.

Erick turned to the left while he was watching, and at the edge of his mana sense, saw Phagar watching the scene play out, too. The God of the End and Time angled his head, as if asking if Erick wanted help. Erick politely declined. Phagar smiled, nodded, then vanished into the timestream.

Erick watched the scene play out a few times, then he said, “Looks like you didn’t manage to get any hits in yourself. That would have made this easier.” There wasn’t any blood on the scene, for it had been [Cleanse]d away, but if Lerreg had managed to score a swipe or something on his attacker, Erick could have searched the cleaned spots on the ground for further DNA. As it was, the only DNA down there were the remnants of Lerreg’s DNA.

With embarrassment flushing his face, Lerreg said, “Apologies, sir… That’s. That’s never been— I will have to take some classes for such instruction.” He added, “I know who it was, though. Like I said. It was Toff and Hutt. They have dealings with the White Market. Whatever happened to me has to be connected to them. The White Market had to be involved. They’re the only ones stupid enough to do something like this because they’re the only ones that still exist.”

“Yes yes.” Erick said, “I heard that. But I’m going off what I’m seeing. Not what you think happened.” And there was no theoretical ‘Toff and Hutt’ DNA to follow. “Besides, you were thrown into Clergy business—” He paused. “Ah. I should have considered this. But is the Clergy connected to crime inside Brightwater District?”

The kid paled again, as if realizing where he was, again. With a soft voice, he said, “No. They’re not. The… The White Market operates outside of the Clergy. That’s what makes it ‘white’, by definition… It operates outside of the Clergy, as far as I know— But! I don’t… I don’t really know… all that much.”

“White Market? As opposed to the Black Market?” Erick said, “If you’re speaking of what I think you’re speaking of, usually those terms are used in the opposite way.”

Steeling himself, the kid said, “The Clergy controls the Black Markets. The White Market is controlled by others. That’s… That’s why they’re separate things. There’s some grey… Some mixing, sure. But the sides don’t usually mix for too long before White turns Black or gets eradicated.”

“What else can you tell me about this ‘Market’ business?”

“The… The Black Markets are open to all and provide stability around the Brightwater. We call them the Black Market, but they’re the government, and the Clergy puts governors in charge of each one. The governors oversee the day-to-day stuff, like skyroad building and keeping the markets open… And… And all the city stuff.” Lerreg rapidly said, “The White Markets are the crime, and I never had no dealings with any of them, but…” He seemed to deflate a little, saying, “But I think my life is already forfeit. You don’t… You don’t go against the powers around here unless you have power, and I was at the bottom.” He rapidly added, “But I was getting there! Into power, I mean! I just needed to not get… troubled... I was going to be a part of the Marine Department! For studying ocean life and making more life to put into those oceans!” He paused, then said, “Others want… other stuff. So they go to the White Markets to try and break from the Lesser Way. Might makes right, after all.”

“Explain the Lesser Way.”

“Oh. Uh.” Lerreg said, “Restoring complexity to the world’s ecosystems to what they used to be before the Sundering, in order to break the chains of this world by overloading the Script, or possibly killing the caretakers of the Script.” He added, “Uh. It’s… It’s a good path. Beats dying to the Higher Calling— That’s directly fighting the good fight against the Wrought and others. Uh. Other people call the Shadow War or Open War other things, but that’s what I was taught to call them. Uh. Sir.”

This kid believed everything he said. Erick was sure that soul shenanigans or mind fuckery could be going on to make Lerreg believe what he believed, but the much more simple explanation, and what matched the turmoil of the kid’s soul and the micro and macro expressions on his face and body, and all of his words and how he said them, was that Lerreg was raised to believe that the world was a prison, and it was his job to break that prison however he could. Not everyone could stand up and wield the sword, but a lot of people were needed to make the swords and keep the bases operational while others wielded those weapons, or, in Lerreg’s case, created the traps to send out into the world.

While Lerreg spoke, Erick had tracked down what was likely all of Lerreg’s locations, or rather, wherever there were large accumulations of the kid’s DNA. Students and people in armor watched as Ophiel fluttered around various places, and conjured various imagings, but Ophiel was never interrupted or stopped.

Back in the Palace District, Erick held up lightform images of the places Ophiel discovered as belonging to Lerreg, to have them confirmed as such by Lerreg. There was the crime scene of his kidnapping in the floating marine biology castle. There was a room in an apartment building in the mountain town below the marine biology castle, along with a few other nearby places with heavy amounts of Lerreg’s DNA. A bakery, which Lerreg confirmed as his day job. A house in another village on the other side of the mountain; his parent’s home. A second, third, and fourth room at his apartment building; the rooms of friends and his girlfriend’s room. Classrooms on the floating mountain. Bathrooms on the floating mountain. Lerreg reported getting beaten up and pissing blood a few times in the past year, which likely meant ‘a great deal more than a few times’, because Lerreg lied slightly about that answer. So Erick almost didn’t pursue the DNA he found in the sewer system.

But then… Most DNA dies in the sewer, and there was a space in the sewers that held Lerreg’s DNA on the walls, instead of in the muck. And that was odd.

Quite a lot of DNA, in an area that was recently [Cleanse]d.

A quick check through time, and the same invisible people appeared, along with a surgery chair, or a massage chair or something, and another man. He was tall, with black hair and black eyes, and skinny, and wearing dark robes. The blobs strapped an unconscious, nude Lerreg onto the surgery chair, setting his face into a cushioned ring, while exposing his back and spreading his legs and arms to the side. The man yelled for the blobs to move away while he went to work. The blobs obliged. And then the man began cutting, and spending so much mana that the image of his work was erased from the manasphere.

Lerreg had spoken of other possible conspirators that he heard of in the most general, vaguest sorts of ways, while Erick had forayed into the past. This was obviously such a conspirator.

And wow! Had this guy done a number on Lerreg’s bones! Oh, wow.

That was a lot of deep surgery.

Concerning surgery.

Erick took another look at Lerreg, honing in on the boy with a great deal more than 75% of his newfound Perception and mana sense. It wasn’t long till he saw something troubling. Lerreg’s spine was a wreck. Erick had gotten rid of the interior spell with his earlier [Dispel], and everything seemed to be intact, but something was wrong. Lerreg sat straight, and yet, his bones had hairline cracks, and some were missing much of their interiors. A layman-guess had Erick thinking this kid was suffering from some advanced stage of osteoporosis, but even an amateur could see that the bones were hollow, and bleeding. And broken, in some spaces. As the kid shifted in his chair yet again, Lerreg’s entire lower spine seemed less like bone and more like sawdust held up by a memory of what it once was. And yet, the kid wasn’t showing any obvious signs of pain; not even when he started to bleed out of an opened wound on his back.

Erick sniffed the air, and smelled blood.

Lerreg flinched.

Erick looked to Lerreg, asking, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Lerreg sat straighter, cracking more unseen, and unfelt bones. “Much better, now that you’re going to get your revenge! It’s only proper that I help you if I can.”

An Ophiel was already retrieving Erick’s rod of [Greater Treat Wounds]. The rod dropped into Erick’s hand, as he sent Ophiel over to Violet to say a few more words, while he said to the kid, “What I am seeing inside of you tells me that you should be feeling a great deal of pain. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Lerreg rapidly looked left and right, and for the first time, appeared nervous.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Erick said, “But your bones are breaking.”

Lerreg laughed nervously. “Uh? I’m fine, sir?”

Erick looked to the right. Violet had done her job. Quilatalap stepped through the edge of the [Privacy Ward], and looked at the kid. The kid, for his part, went wide-eyed upon seeing the black-armored Caretaker. He tried to leap off of his seat, probably in some attempt to kowtow to Quilatalap. But Larreg squawked as his legs broke out from under him and his arm broke as he moved. Erick caught him in a bed of hard light that he tried to make as soft as possible. A bone cracked.

With his head supported and his body failing, Larreg spoke through a broken jaw, asking, “Whas appenthing to ee?”

Quilatalap rapidly said to Erick, “That rod won’t work.” He spoke softly to the kid, “Don’t struggle. Let me help.”

The archlich touched the kid’s face. Bones snapped, then settled. A spine appeared out of rubble, then came together and healed. Arms reset. A jaw realigned. Blood spurted everywhere, but then flowed back into Larreg’s body. Nerves regrew, and the kid released a tiny scream, but he then locked down to a whisper.

The kid healed in a way that Erick would have considered a miracle at one point in time, but magic existed, and Quilatalap had 3000 years of experience. With a gesture, Quilatalap lifted Lerreg from Erick’s light, then set the kid back on his chair, where Lerreg huffed out blood, groaned a lot, then composed himself to the best of his ability. Ten seconds of gasping later, Larreg looked no worse for wear than he had in the beginning of the interview.

Erick had mixed feelings about Larreg’s ability to keep calm in the face of overwhelming danger and power. It had to be a cultural thing. But maybe it was a Blood Magic or Soul Magic thing, too. Erick did not doubt that the Shades would magically experiment on their populace like that.

Quilatalap asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Very well, sir.” Lerreg said, “Thank you, very much, Caretaker, sir.”

Quilatalap asked Erick, “You good?”

“Yes. Thanks. I wasn’t sure if healing him would have killed him, or not. That looked nasty.”

Quilatalap smiled. “That was a correct guess; whatever you tore out of him left his soul in tatters and his body weak as a newborn’s. The standard [Greater Treat Wounds] would have filled him with unchecked growth and killed him outright.” He asked, “You got your mana sense, then?”

“Yes.” Erick gazed upon Quilatalap’s soul, and saw a true abyss; a maw with teeth around the edges, poised to strike at any who dared to get too close. He looked away from that pit of darkness, then said, “A few different Sights already unlocked.”

“Good. Buy all of them, if you want, but we can talk more about all of that later.” He asked, “So what are you going to do with the kid?”

Erick said, “I’ve got the guy that messed up Lerreg in my view, and unless there is more to this, then I might be done in minutes. Then I’d like to see your Armory presentation.”

Quilatalap gave a small ‘hmmmm,’ then asked, “Whatever happened, failed to happen?”

“There were some threats made to my family that have yet to be resolved to my satisfaction.”

“Ah. Not over yet.” Quilatalap stood for a second, then said, “I’ve no doubt whatever happened will require poking around in the territory of the Clergy, but when you find a solid lead, you might want to warn someone before you take action.”

Erick glanced through Ophiel, to a nicely appointed private office room in a tower in a floating castle, where windows showed the green vistas outside, and let light into the room, to land upon a large wooden desk and its current occupant. A tall, thin man sat behind that desk, frowning down at a tiny Ophiel, as Ophiel hopped across the wooden surface, chirping as he poked at an inkwell, upturning the small glass, spilling dark ink across what appeared to be paperwork and student tests. Ophiel dipped a feather into the ink spill, and finding that interesting, he splashed his whole wing into the puddle. He chirped in happy violins as black blots went flying. Then he began truly playing.

Professor Illipine Grouser remained stoic; silently watching the whole time.

Erick said to Quilatalap, “So… I guess I will find Farix, then.”

Quilatalap startled. “Farix?” He glanced at Larreg, then said, “Ohhhh. He’s an arcanaeum student. Ah. Well. I’m not getting involved. Good luck with this.”

“Thanks, Quilatalap.”

Quilatalap stepped away, vanishing back to wherever he was to continue to do whatever it was he was doing.

Erick said to Larreg, “You can stay here for a minute or ten. I’ll be right back.”

“Of course, sir!” Larreg said, “My life is yours to do with what you will.”

Erick frowned, then he stepped away, too.

- - - -

At a ‘presentation’ zone that was more ‘desks and bureaucrats’ than any sort of magic, and rather large for a presentation zone, he found the formerly naked bartender, the Professor of Truedark Arcanaeum, wearing robes and working paperwork, while assistants did the same at other desks. A long line of students stood upon the white line leading into the presentation space, while those who had already gone in and got done with whatever it was they did in there, walked out the other side, some with paperwork, some with empty hands and disappointment in their eyes.

Erick walked past the line, directly up to the Professor.

The blue incani saw him coming, and with bright white eyes, and a smile, greeted, “Hello, Erick!” He waved away a female student who was with him, saying, “Yeah, yeah; you can attempt to join the manaminer division. Shoo, before I change my mind.”

The woman gripped papers tight against her chest as she bowed several times, backing away as she left as fast as she could. While that was happening, a white-skinned woman incani stepped out of the shadows, to Farix’s right. Farix glanced at the new woman, then immediately eyed Erick, and then the white incani. A telepathic line connected the woman to the Shade. The Shade sat a bit straighter.

Farix narrowed his eyes at Erick.

Erick stepped to the other side of the Shade’s desk, and said, “One of your professors was involved in trying to kill me.”

Farix frowned, deeply. He asked, “Why come to me about this? Kill the man and be done with it. Professor Grouser’s career is over, as of this moment.”

Paperwork stopped. Eyes wandered over to Erick and Farix. Some students started writing much faster. One male orcol sitting behind one of the desks, wearing professor robes, turned from forest green to seafoam green around the face.

Erick noticed the orcol’s reaction. He pointed out the man. “What’s his deal with Grouser?”

Farix sighed, glancing over to the orcol. “Grouser is a professor of the osteomantic arts. The pale fellow is named Curook. He has been Grouser’s rival for a good five years, in the same field of study.” Farix eyed the orcol, and the orcol paled a bit further. Farix turned back to Erick, and declared, “Whatever happened to you didn’t involve Curook. The guy can’t lie to save his life.”

Erick said, “I don’t want to jump to a hasty conclusion and operate in your territory without you knowing, but the people who Grouser worked with have talked about harming my family. I am going to solve this problem,” He kept the edge mostly out of his voice, as he said, “But is there anything you wish to tell me, first?”

Farix said, “The only one who can leave Kendrithyst while the Shadow’s Feast barrier is active is Tania, but if she’s involved in this thing happening to you then you’re fucked either way.” He spoke a bit softer, saying, “I don’t know what happened to you, but threats and such happen all the time to people like me and you. Grouser and others should have known not to deal in unapproved… Whatever it was he did. What did he do?”

“Cast some bone spells on a kid who was thrown at me in order to extort some Stat rings.”

Farix snorted. “Oh yeah. That shouldn’t have been done. Kill him. Make an example. You probably need to make more examples, large examples, so this doesn’t happen to you again. Doesn’t matter to me, just don’t go blowing up mountains if you can help it. I know you can be a lot sneakier than that.” He asked, “Is that all? Or…” He smiled, tugging at the collar of his robe, revealing blue skin underneath. “Would you like to talk about nicer things, in a nicer setting?”

“Maybe some other time.”

Farix shrugged. “Very well.” He lifted a hand, and gestured to the side, past Erick, calling out, “Next!” When the next in line, a tall woman, failed to come forward and mostly just stood there, staring at Erick, who failed to move, and then at Farix, and then back to Erick, Farix said, “Stop staring at the Fire of the Age and get your ass up here. He and I are done.” The woman quickly moved, as Farix added, “Your application better be fucking STUNNING, Meponoria.”

The woman whispered, “Yes sir, sorry sir, yes sir.”

Erick didn’t like being dismissed like that, but he understood the need to establish power.

Had this had all happened because Erick hadn’t yet established power? Eh. Erick had thought he was rather useful for hunting down all those Hunters that tried to attack him back when Carodogh was around. And killing literally millions of Ballooning Spiders and Crystal Mimics and such.

But people were people, and someone always had more stupidity, insanity, and power, than was good for them.

Erick rejoined Lerreg, while also setting down for a remote talk with Professor Grouser.

- - - -

While all that was happening, Ophiel plundered some academic records while others looked on, and then took a trip to some dorm rooms. Erick had found Toff and Hutt.

Or, at least, their final resting space. [Cascade Imaging] had led Erick to an area a dozen meters across, on the side of a grassy mountain, chock full of scattered bits of DNA. A check through the past didn’t reveal their final fate, for someone had used a great deal of magic in the area, erasing most of the recent past.

But Erick could still make out the exploding skulls and guts, cast through the air, all falling to a flaming end. It had to be a [Cleansing Flame], too, for Erick only found some dried blood, far from the scene, and a single, clean toenail, in the middle of it all.

- - - -

Erick watched as Ophiel played around in the black ink and Illipine Grouser wrote on a small, nearby table, outside of the splash zone. With a bit of control, Ophiel hovered into the air, and Erick saw what the man was working on. It was a will, or as they called them on Veird: Final Affairs. The man stopped writing his will when he recognized that Ophiel’s behavior had changed.

Erick opened with, “I would have figured a man who does what you did would have already sorted his Final Affairs.”

With calm ease, the man said, “My current Final Affairs is two years old. This one might not be admissible in court, but it will at least let others know how a few new things are to be distributed.” He asked, “Will you allow me the option of taking my own life, after I have finished this paperwork, sir?”

“If you give me a full and complete accounting of what happened, your involvement, and whoever else was involved, then I won’t touch you.”

Grouser paused. He breathed in. He said, “It was my plan to extort you for your new rings. News of these true All-Stat rings has gotten around rather quickly, and I knew I needed them, so I scrounged up the necessary resources as fast as I could, and attempted to go about my day as normal to throw off any suspicion. It seems I was exceedingly mistaken about your tracking and sleuthing capabilities, and for that, I will pay the price of my failure with my death.”

Erick watched the man lie to Ophiel’s face, then said, “200-plus Perception along with mana sense and all this new Intelligence says you’re lying.” He hadn’t just been eyeing Grouser, though. “I can also see into the various hidden compartments in the walls around here, as well as the magics you have that are attempting to conceal all those places, but I have no doubt that the more important items are somewhere else entirely. But there is one thing here, of note: You got a little painting of a son and a wife that you keep in your desk drawer, which I can see even through the enchantments guarding your desk. That new paperwork that you were working on tells me their names: Illipine, which comes from you, I assume, and Margareete. I am guessing that by lying to me, you’re trying to protect them. Do they need rescuing before you’re willing to talk?”

Erick didn’t mention that all of that was rather transparent. This guy knew what he was doing. By writing a Final Affairs in front of Ophiel, Grouser clued Erick into his family, and his concerns, and what was most likely being threatened to force Grouser’s compliance.

Grouser calmly said, “My life is forfeit, sir.”

“Are you choosing to ignore my offer of assistance with whatever problems forced this foolishness upon you?”

“My life is forfeit.”

“… I repeat: are you forgoing my assistance with this problem? I found you rather fast. I can find the others just as fast. In fact, I have just now found your own son and wife.”

Grouser’s whole body flinched.

Erick continued, “And I have found the four people watching them. I am now fully investigating the threat.”

In a mountainside city, three kilometers away from their little meeting, in a little playground outside of a house, in a row of houses beside a lake, a woman pushed a boy on a swing set. The boy was somewhere around eight years old; he giggled as the woman pushed him higher. The woman had to be in her forties. She played at being happy, but she knew something was wrong. She eyed the lake, and a small rowboat upon those waters.

A man and another man sat on that rowboat, over a hundred meters away. One of them watched the woman. The other watched the waters around them, where other couples rowed out on the waters and at least appeared to be lovey-dovey with each other; these two men played at no such cover.

They also had some of Toff and Hutt’s DNA on them. [Cleanse] worked well, but it did not clean as well as people thought it cleaned.

Another pair of men were stationed on the road in front of the house, out of sight of the mother and son. If Erick didn’t have his new Stats and his new senses, he would have missed them entirely. One was surrounded by invisibility magics that were deeper than [Invisibility]. The other was sitting on a porch across the street, drinking tea and reading a book, looking for all the world, except to Erick, that he was just a normal guy, doing normal guy things.

If he didn’t have his new Stats, and his new mana sense, he also would have missed the bomb-like packets of mana in the necks of both the mother and son. They were much smaller than the spell Grouser had put on Lerreg, but the structure was certainly similar. Was the caster a student of Grouser’s?

Back in Grouser’s office, the man shot to his feet, scattering papers, yelling, “No! They have—”

“How much mana should I spend on a [Dispel] on those bombs in their necks?” Erick interrupted. He added, “No bonuses, now. Just straight-up costs, since I have a global cooldown on my own, personal [Dispel], and 20 seconds is more than enough time for the second one to trigger. Or. You could choose which one you want to live?”

Grouser’s face did a weird, jumble of things, where he was obviously thinking some deep, horrible thoughts. After a half a second of that, he practically shouted, “15,000 mana for each!”

Erick wrapped Grouser’s wife and son in Ophiel’s sunform, rapidly trapping them behind pretty lights. A second Ophiel joined the first. Two 15,000 mana [Dispel]s ripped from those two Ophiel, targeting the glowing packet of bomb-like mana at the base of the mother’s and son’s skulls. The spells broke apart.

Several things happened all at once, and Erick dealt with each in their own way.

Back in the office, Erick had Ophiel hold up a lightform image of the event. Grouser looked down upon his family as the kid looked to the sky, his giggles of laughter turning to wonder at the sparking air all around. The wife quickly stopped the swingset, her face suddenly switching from instant fear, to a calm mask. She took the kid into her arms, speaking happy words that failed to translate over the lightform image, but the kid was certainly giggling.

The invisible person in front of the house moved to cast a spell at the mother and son. A bolt of invisible light rocketed from the hidden space, right as an Ophiel descended on the hidden person, and engulfed them in a vise of forceful light. Whatever spell they cast didn’t matter, for Ophiel grabbed the mother and son and took them into the sky, leaving the Bolt behind.

The man across the street tried something, too, casting a larger spell at the rapidly escaping mother and son, but an Ophiel got him, trapping him much in the same way as Ophiel trapped the invisible person.

The men on the lake were already trapped, and out of range of the ability to do much. Erick told them to sit tight and they wouldn’t die today. They complied. Erick repeated this warning to all of the trapped people, and the only one who tried anything was the invisible guy, who Erick now saw was a woman. She splashed bright light into her cage, not managing to do much except catch herself in the corrosive fallout. Erick flexed the cage and saved the woman from most of her own stupidity, but not all.

Back in the office, a few spells triggered below Grouser’s office, doing massive damage to the stone all around the man, utterly demolishing the office and a good portion of the floor above and below. But Grouser was fine. Erick had already wrapped him in hard light the second his rescue began.

The mother and son were currently tearing across the sky, and while the kid screamed a little, it was nothing a [Stillness] couldn’t fix. The mother attempted to fix the rest, with calm words, though the kid just screamed louder, causing bright pops of white light to surround his head with every breath. It didn’t take long before the kid caught on to his screams causing the light. Then he started laughing again. The mother smiled.

And the wind whistled through the new hole in the tower, where Grouser’s office had been. It did not collapse. Erick held up the structure with bars of solid light so that it wouldn’t budge, and said, “I have successfully saved your family and you. I demand compliance to remove the threats made to my own people.”

Grouser said, “I need my family with me.”

“They are flying this way, right now. Your son has been very brave.”

“Don’t lie to me. He’s a coward,” Grouser said, without venom in his voice.

“Be that as it may—” Erick had Ophiel release a [Mending Aura], repairing the office back to whole while he spoke, “They are safe, and on their way. They should be here in a minute. If you wish to tell me something, now would be a good time, before they arrive and things get more complicated. You should know I already spoke to Farix. He has told me your career is over.”

The room came back together as flowing stone remade itself into walls, and growing desks, shelves, and books retook some of their former positions. A lot of books ended up on the ground, and a good portion of all of the stuff that had been in the room seemed missing. The lived-in tower space was more like a neglected storage room, now. It was a good thing Grouser was the only one in the tower, so aside from Ophiel and the ex-professor, no one had been in danger.

Erick asked about that, “Offices above and below, yet you were the only one in your office today?”

Grouser’s chair was missing from the repaired room, so he just stood there. “I told them to be elsewhere today. They smartly accepted. This sort of thing happens every so often. Caught between massive powers, that is.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a pretty massive power, too.” Erick asked, “How often do you do that full-bone explosion trap?”

“I am not a higher power.” Grouser seemed to hold back a tide of resentment, as he said, “I have been forced to do that several times by those who are truly powerful, including the one who I suspect wronged you.” He breathed in. He prepared himself.

And then he spoke of the White Market.

Three minutes later, for Erick had slowed down the mother and son’s flight as Grouser expounded on organized crime, Erick reunited the man with his family. After a short series of hugs between Grouser, his wife, and his son, Erick asked Margareete, the mother, about the White Market. She immediately began a tirade over the dealings their family has had to suffer from the White Market, and pointed Erick in several possible directions, and one really good one. Grouser agreed with Margareete’s thoughts.

Erick confirmed her words by visiting those places, and by asking the people he had trapped the same questions.

Those assassins weren’t going anywhere except where Erick put them. [Lodestar] was a Domain, after all, and Erick shut down every single spell they tried to do. The Librarian’s little white book was very helpful in this regard.

When Margareete was finished, and a few more concerns were answered, Erick asked the three of them, “Where will you go, now?”

Grouser hugged his wife and his son, saying, “Away from Kendrithyst as soon as the Feast barrier is down.”

Margareete spoke to Erick, “If you murder every high ranking member of the White Market then we might not have to leave Truedark Arcanaeum. Otherwise, we must go, and we must go now. We can survive in the Pillars of the Spire until the Feast is over, so that is a better answer of where we’ll be. Can you get us there? Somewhere in the middle of it all? We can find out if it’s safe to come back after you do whatever you wish to do. No need to bother yourself with that much, Archmage Flatt, sir.”

Erick said, “Sure.” With a slice of light against the outer wall of the room, a secure hold, and a push, the wall opened up like a swinging door. Air flowed in. “Let’s go.”

Margareete picked up her boy and nodded, as she held onto Grouser, and the thin man held onto her. Erick grabbed the three of them with solid light, and told them to sit, if they wished. They did so, like people trained to listen to others. Erick filed that thought away as he floated them out of the room, and then resealed the room behind them. Erick guided Ophiel out from the Arcanaeum District, and out across the Brightwater, to the land beyond the lake.

Erick turned his attention back to the people he had caught, and also back to himself. The people at Grouser’s house were still trapped, all together now. Erick threatened them with releasing them to Farix. He was hoping for a quick round of information gathering. Instead, the assassins seemed to die on the inside, going completely silent.

Ah. Well. Maybe Lerreg would be more helpful.

Lerreg sat across from Erick, waiting to be helpful.

Erick asked him a few questions, based on what he had found out from Grouser and Margareete.

Lerreg scrunched his face. “Uh. I don’t know any of those people. I mean… I know of the White Market. But… I don’t know anyone in it, or any of the people you mentioned. Oh! But Toff and Hutt are in it, right?”

“Yes. They were.”

A wild smile broke upon Lerreg’s face, before vanishing behind discipline. He said, “Oh.” He asked, “Did you clean that threat from the land?”

“… No. Others got to them, first.” Erick said, “This has become larger than I thought it would be. I expected some dumb shit Shade to try something well before I stepped into Ar’Kendrithyst, and I got that, but I didn’t expect to encounter more dumb shits in the shapes of people.”

Lerreg flinched.

Erick continued, “I expected this extortion attempt to require a simple fix. But it’s taking up more of my time than I would have liked.” Erick said, “I have much bigger things to deal with than this nonsense, Lerreg. If you’ve been holding back anything, let me know now.”

“No no! I would never hold anything back!”

Erick sighed.

He returned his attention back to the assassins currently held captive on the backyard lawn of Margareete’s house. They came around from their brief catatonia at being threatened with release to a Shade. Then they gave up a few names rather quickly. Tracking the DNA of the four of them brought Erick to a rather ornate house in the middle of an expensive part of Truedark Arcanaeum’s district. An expensive, well defended house, with guards everywhere, and with a name Erick had discovered several times already. The Rollini Family. The leaders of the White Market in the Arcanaeum District.

This discovery necessitated another trip to Farix.

So Erick stood in front of Farix’s temporary desk, again.

The Shade was not there.

The white-skinned incani had taken over for Farix. Erick asked her for directions to the Shade. He got them. So now, Erick stood at the dark gates to the temporary Dark Temple, south of the Palace District.

- - - -

Behind the open doors to the temple, Farix stood, speaking to Priestess, who floated nearby, her skeleton body was wrapped in dark cloth, while the white core in her ribcage glowed a soft white. They noticed Erick, as he stepped to the entrance.

Priestess waved him in, saying, “Welcome, Erick. I have just heard some interesting news. Come on in.”

Erick did so, walking inside, while Lerreg and Violet trailed behind.

Priestess gestured to the kid with Erick, “I assume this is the young man who almost blew up?”

Erick stepped toward Priestess and Farix, saying, “Yes.”

Priestess said to Lerreg, “Please stand on this side of the door, while the three of us speak.”

Lerreg immediately moved off to the side, followed closely by Violet.

Erick walked all the way to the Shades, stopping when he got near, asking, “So you’ve heard it all?”

“Not yet.” Farix said, “But I heard you uncovered some of the White Market in my lands. I have received reports of heavy activity, all around my lands, too. This is concerning, Erick. I do not appreciate this level of clandestine activity in my lands.”

Erick said, “Then it is a good thing I have come to you, isn’t it? I’ve already tracked down most of the people who tried to do me harm, but since impeding upon you is not something I wish to do without just cause, I have sought you out for the second time.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Does Grouser live?” Farix asked.

The Shade was obviously angry, but doing a great job of hiding that emotion. If he were in his shadowform, then Erick wouldn’t have caught any of those emotions at all.

“Him, his wife, and his kid, are all fine.” Erick asked, “I thought you would ask after the White Market?”

Farix went hopeful, then silent, and calculating. After a moment, he turned to Priestess, then to Erick, saying, “I want a privacy barrier for what comes next. Either you put up one, or I will.”

Priestess nodded her skeleton head, saying, “A good idea. I could put up one, or, if you are uncomfortable with that, you may, Erick?”

Erick had an Ophiel pop a [Privacy Ward] across the three of them, cutting out all exterior senses.

Priestess frowned, as she looked upon the crystalline air. “Audio and visual, but no [Scry] protection, or mana sense protection.”

Farix said, “It’s fine. If you could erase the mana signature later, Priestess?”

“I can, and will.”

Erick frowned at the Shades. “What other spells would you have combined with this?”

Priestess explained, “[Soul Sight], [Witness], and [Scry], but in reverse. This is a good base, though.”

“You can do that when there’s no larger concerns.” Farix seemed to relax, as he said, “Grouser is my old drinking buddy. I won’t have him murdered over a failed assassination against you. What do I need to do to get you to back off from him?”

“He’s fine. I won’t hold it against him, since he was forced into helping out the White Market in your lands.” Erick said, “But I want the people who plot to harm my family brought to a definitive end.”

Farix said, “No. The White Markets in my land are some of the best they’ve been in years. I don’t want you upsetting the balance. Let this go. Besides. Why are you asking for me to end the Rollini Family? You won’t kill them, and your family can protect itself. Jane is not going to die to those people.”

Erick threatened, “So you want me to carve their house from the land?”

“You’re not going to do shit, Erick.” Farix said, “I am glad you didn’t kill Grouser, but I have no obligation to do your dirty work for you, and besides! I wouldn’t want to! As I said, the Rollini family is rather good for the area. They provide what my governor cannot, in order to keep the rest of the people happier than they would be otherwise.”

Erick sighed.

Priestess spoke, “Every land has its illegal markets and powers, Erick. To eradicate one is to prepare the land for others to take root. To this end, it is good that you have not struck yet.” She turned to Farix. “But if he were to strike, what would you do?”

Farix rolled his eyes, “He won’t.”

“And why won’t he?” Priestess asked, sparing Erick the task of threatening deaf ears.

He liked her a little more because of that.

“There are kids in there, and the Rollini Family does whatever it takes to protect themselves, including using their kids as shields.” Farix said to Erick, “You’ve scouted the place. Do you see the kids?”

“I have seen the young ones inside the house and elsewhere nearby… I knew they were going to be a problem, but I did not expect them to be that sort of problem.” Erick frowned, every part of him jumbling with anger and other, less understandable emotions. “They… They use their kids as shields?”

Priestess stared down at Farix. If she would have had flesh and skin to her skull, Erick was certain he would be seeing a frown on her face. And then she spoke and made her displeasure felt, “Really, Farix. This is intolerable.”

Farix said, “They found out a personal weakness of mine! So what! A guy is exploiting it.” He nearly rounded on her, saying, “You want to go murder the hundreds of children they have in their power? Yeah. I didn’t think so. This is just a part of business as almost-usual.”

Priestess’s eyes turned to points of hard starlight, but she said nothing.

Erick stared at Farix, changing tactics, “I came to you because this is your land. To know that you were this complicit in the Rollini Family’s business of extortion? That is news, too. All of this is news, actually. All of this bodes badly for you, Farix.”

The Priestess continued to stare down at Farix.

Farix laughed. “Here’s some more news: I’m not willing to topple a stable power in my kingdom when someone else possibly worse might take their place.” He rolled his eyes, or at least Erick imagined he did; Farix’s eyes were nothing but pools of white. He said, “Destabilization kills just as much as an archmage attack.”

“Fair enough.” Erick said, “So I’m going to go in there, and extract some killers, and I want you to be okay with the outcome.”

“No.” Farix sighed. “Leave them alone. Your involvement will kill a hundred kids. I will take care of this for you. It will take time. You will owe me for this.”

Erick scoffed, then smiled. “I’m not going to owe you shit. Is this a test of how far I’m willing to go against one of you? Because if it is, I am not going to play nicely.”

He almost blurted out that when the entire Clergy went to war with itself, that every single person in the Brightwater District was likely going to die, anyway.

Farix eyed Erick. “I don’t police my people like some Mind Mage despot, and I don’t appreciate the implication that I do. What’s happening here, between me and you, is diplomacy. In diplomacy, you ask for something, something is given, and something is given back. You will owe me for this, one way or another.”

“It’s more like this: You remove this threat against me before I remove it myself. And then you will have to deal with your crooked house before gravity tears it down, and I won’t owe you shit.”

Farix warned, “You compare yourself to intractable gravity?”

Erick wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared at Farix, pitying the man and hating him in equal measure, as he let loose a small secret, saying, “You have no idea of the inexorable forces arrayed against your house of cards, do you?”

Farix puffed up, almost going to say something.

But Priestess intervened. “Please, gentlemen! No need for that sort of anger. Everything was going well but we’ve all gotten a little heated. So let’s turn down the burner a bit. Farix is just defending his own. But. Erick. What you just said...” With a suddenly serious voice, she asked Erick, “I feel that you mean something deeper by that?”

Farix glanced up at the skeleton woman, his face going from tense, to slack, to a mask. He looked at Erick, and he waited.

Erick’s anger had already gotten away from him. Though Farix was a Shade, he was also a professor, and Killzone didn’t have too much evil to say about the man; what little there was to say, anyway. That he wouldn’t kill kids was a very, very low bar, but it was a bar Farix had passed, nonetheless.

Erick decided to expound slightly on what he had already let loose. He said, “I am going to have a little talk with the Rollini Family. I urge you to either step aside, or fall in line. If you choose to stand against me, tell me now, and I will forgo pursuing this Rollini plot until such a time comes when everything is already on fire.”

Priestess floated a bit straighter. Farix flinched into the shadows, though the transformation was so fast and he came back to physical form so quickly, Erick would have never known of the shift if he did not have his new Perception.

Priestess mumbled, “… Well then.”

Farix calmly said, “Do keep your destruction to a minimum.”

“I already planned on it. I have proven a capability for surgical action when I saved Lerreg from various annihilating forces, and then when I saved Grouser and his family without causing undue destruction. I further proved my methods when I came to you to deal with this problem I found in your territory.” Erick said, “My Ophiels are already in position. Would you like to watch?”

“No.” Farix said, “I will inspect the aftermath.”

“I have the assassins that were guarding Grouser’s family. Do you want them?”

“Yes. I’ll give them to Grouser as a gift. Where are they?”

“Outside of his wife’s house.” Erick held a hand up, and created a map from his lightform. A blue dot appeared on the map. “Here.”

Farix gazed upon the floating map, then a tendril of shadows flowed from his feet, detaching, to quickly move out of sight. He said, “Hold them there for five minutes. I’ll take it from there.”

“Accepted.” Erick nodded, first to Farix, then to Priestess. He almost turned around and left, but he instead gestured to Lerreg. “Lerreg over there is a part of your division that creates monsters to fill the oceans and kill people. Do you wish to keep him? I do not want him. I don’t like that there are people that actually create monsters, either, but I’m not going to kill him for the choices his elders have made centuries before he came along.”

Farix glanced over at the kid, and squinted his eyes. He said, “Whatever. I don’t recognize the kid, so he doesn’t matter to me.” He turned to Erick, saying, “Most of those biology departments are about increasing biodiversity to create healthy ecosystems, so that this prison of a planet is more real than what it was when the gods created it and trapped us all here, Erick. Monster creation is a part of that field, sure. But mostly it's just about making healthy environments with balanced ecosystems.”

Erick said, “Whatever. Probably a good field to keep around when we start designing planets from scratch. Might need some overhauls with the curriculum to include less monsters, though.”

“Already in the works!” Farix said, “I’m getting back to my job.” He stepped away, vanishing, as shadows dissipated where he had been standing.

For a moment, a gentle wind blew through the Dark Temple, an Erick enjoyed it.

Then Priestess spoke, “Thank you for approaching the problem like this, Erick. That said: You must not appear weak to this Rollini Family. Speech is reserved for initial dealings with the non-initiated and against other Shades, but against those who seek to do you harm… Well. Violence is sometimes the only language some people know.” She added, “I don’t know this Rollini Family in particular, but they sound like a crime syndicate that took after the Carod Family that came before, maybe twenty years ago. I’ll spare you the history lesson, but the Carods were a cell-based White Market, with little of the exterior and apparent structures of the White Market out in the open.” She added, “It is worrying that this Rollini Family has managed to get a finger onto Farix, though.”

“There will be violence, and some dismantling to ensure this doesn’t happen again.” Erick said, “And to that dismantling end: I tracked down four of their cells while we were speaking. Got an enchanting building full of supplies in the Arcanaeum District, more enchanting supplies in your Temple District —Which is very pretty, by the way. Then I got more enchantments in another place under the waters of the Brightwater near Arcanaeum lands, and an orphanage, or a school, or something, also in the Temple District.”

Priestess’s white core flickered radiant when Erick mentioned the Temple District. She asked, “Could you… Could you please tell me where those locations are? In the Temple District. Farix might not be willing to assist you in his own lands, but I will not have a White Market in my own District.”

“Sure, if you tell me why they enchant so many wands?”

Erick had never seen so many wands in one place than he had seen in those rooms, and that included enchanting shops. The wands were laid in boxes on the wall, fifty to a box, while grand rads sat in the center of the room, and runes on the floor drew mana into the room to increase the powering of the wands that sat outside of the circle. It was an intricate piece of work. As far as Erick could tell, what was happening was the same thing that happened when one blew out birthday candles, for example. More air came along for the ride than what exited the lungs. That extra mana went into those partially enchanted wands, charging them up to full power, for sure.

It was an ingenious little bit of magic that allowed the grand rads in the center to empower more wands than was normally possible. It also wasn’t quite magic at all, and reminded Erick of how dungeons cycled mana around to keep it all flowing and yet also stagnating in the proper places, to facilitate monster growth. It was just a simple inscription on the floor, too.

Erick was going to steal that design, for sure. He had never seen anything like it before. But then again, enchanting was a deep, deep field of study, and he hadn’t gone poking around in any high-class enchanting shops yet. Though, now that Erick thought of it… There could have been one of these diagrams behind the wall of Ulrick Ulrick’s enchanting shop? Maybe? Erick wouldn’t have noticed the diagrams in these wand rooms if it wasn’t so conspicuous.

Erick said, “That’s a lot of wands. Easily thousands in a room only two meters by two meters.”

Priestess strongly said, “It’s because we don’t allow our people to use the Script to learn magic by spending a point. To Matriculate, and then to use magic like it is simply something you can buy! It’s disrespectful to the whole Art!”

“… I can see this is a powerful subject for you.” Erick added, “But that still doesn’t explain anything.”

“Apologies.” She calmed a little, then said, “Let me start with how we graduate our students to magic, for this is integral to know to understand the rest.

“Much of Truedark Arcanaeum’s curriculum is based around kids learning how to make spells themselves, from aura work, or otherwise. To this end, we have three shadow dungeons operating at full capacity in the Temple District, giving every 16 year-old child a Crown of Shadows; a step upon the journey to [Shadowalk] and an acceptable way to learn how to control their aura. Most students absorb the essence armor and gain [Shadow Touch] but a rare few gain [Shadow Strike]; two of the more common first steps to [Shadowalk]. From those humble aura-work origins, they can learn in Truedark or in any of the other places in the Brightwater, and eventually gain all the rest of those spells that appear in the Script. There are no shortcuts in our lands, Erick.

“To keep our laws and our faith strong, yearly Status reveals are required from age 16 onward, and in the case of any possible arrests or such. It’s all very above-board. Those found to have an excess of spells without their Remake Quests are punished based on the severity of the offense.” She sighed. “But people are people and often do what is easy, as opposed to what is proper. The use of wands to circumvent the law is a minor but pervasive offense that is mostly overlooked, but which is ultimately harmful, and which I cannot allow in my lands.”

Something didn’t add up, and it was something that had actually been bothering Erick ever since he came to the Brightwater District, and saw people casting spells. Erick asked, “So does that mean you have Registrars? To enable the Script for people?”

Priestess looked at Erick with star-filled eye sockets, as she cocked her head back, and her jaw dropped open. She almost said something, but then she stopped. She closed her mouth, then after a moment, she said, “Oh.” She added, “I understand the confusion. The system we have is rather much more complicated than what you experienced with your ‘Matriculation’. Short version: No. We do not have Registrars. We do not allow agents of the Script into Kendrithyst. But when a child turns 16 and after they gain a piece of the [Shadowalk] Elemental Body, they are automatically Script-enabled. The same is true for anyone who gains any Elemental Body skill. In our own case, some children choose to walk a different path than the path of Shadow. We don’t get many of those sorts but we keep several of those optional essence armors in stock for those such children. Fire Crowns. Stone Crowns. Etcetera.”

Erick knew he would have some Big Thoughts about all of that, later, but for now, he flexed his lightform into a map, indicating the wand-filled buildings with small blue dots.

Priestess asked, “Could I get a bigger resolution, please?”

Erick obliged.

“Thank you.” Priestess said, “I must be off. Good luck with your own dealings with this Rollini Family. I need to instruct some others to deal with my own Rollini problems.” She bowed, ever so slightly, then stepped away in a flash of black.

Erick was alone in the Dark Temple. He glanced back to Lerreg and Violet, standing by the doorway. They couldn’t see him past the [Privacy Ward], so here was as good a place as any. He conjured a chair, and sat down.

It was time to talk to some mobsters who used children as living shields.

Joy.

He had been a fool to expect this to go quickly. Farix had been right: Erick wasn’t about to murder everyone in his way and damn the consequences. Not yet, anyway.

Hopefully not ever.

- - - -

Forests grew tall upon verdant mountains, where creeks trickled down into valleys, and houses, strung like ornaments, decorated the land. Higher up on those mountains, were the bigger, more ornate houses. Most had large balconies attached to them, like cliffs, sticking out into the open air. Some of those spaces were attached to roads that wound down the mountain, while some balconies were occupied by carriages of various magical make. Atop the largest fake cliff, attached to the largest house, were guardsmen and women standing out in the open, though some were trying to be sneaky, and remained hidden under invisibility-adjacent magics.

One incani man in black, with black horns, walked out from the house, onto the cliff, and stood there, in the center, looking up at Ophiels that had made themselves known, but not yet felt.

Ophiels gazed down at the man. Some of the feathered [Familiar]s were full-sized, others pint-sized, some in sunform, others under [Invisibility]. Erick would have to work on his own invisibility-adjacent magics at some other time, when life and death did not hang in the balance.

At Erick’s order, the lead Ophiel descended in a tangle of wings and eyes. Erick had Ophiel use his lightform self to generate a hologram of Erick, that was more or less exactly as Erick appeared. Ophiel fluttered to hover at the edge of the outcropping, while ‘Erick’ walked forward.

The man in black smiled a fake smile, as he laid his hands in front of his stomach and bowed, and said, “Greetings, honored archmage. How can this one help you?”

Erick saw glittering green gems on various anklets and a belt, under the guy’s clothes. They were enchanted, likely with Charisma, according to the little tug Erick felt acting on his mind. It wasn’t anything to be scared of, though; the force of that pull was like a piece of floss trying to pull a boat. It would take a significant exposure to this man’s Charisma to do anything to Erick.

Erick decided to start off with a reasonable, easy request. He said, “I want the people responsible for the threats made against my family. I also want assurances that the rest of their plot will not be allowed to come to fruition.” He added, “And it’s in rather poor taste to boost your Charisma before speaking to me. Is that how things are done around here? Mind magic?”

The man smoothly said, “Apologies. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing. Would you care to stay for tea, perhaps?”

This man’s body did not indicate that he lied. Every part of him seemed to speak the truth. Which meant that this man was capable of lying rather perfectly. Honestly, some of the Shades Erick had met were not even this good.

But it wasn’t his reactions that gave him away. It was the reactions of everyone else within sight, and some of those well out of sight, too. Some flinched. Others sweated. The invisible people moved in more obvious ways, moving to get a better shot at Erick’s hologram. People inside the house whispered to each other, far away from the confrontation taking place out front. They spoke of what was happening to their ‘vaunted master Poriti’ while they joked about who would die this time, as they lovingly placed their hands on their own necks…

Where bombs laid, waiting to be triggered.

Erick felt his body go cold.

Damn, this guy’s Charisma was way too high. A part of him had wanted to dismiss all the words he heard inside the house. A part of him was already seeing Poriti in a bright, handsome light. But when he saw the neck bombs, Erick jerked his mind away from that part of himself that called for peace and understanding.

Back at the Dark Temple, Erick sighed.

This guy wanted to play that way? Fine. Erick could play that way.

But he would make sure he was right, first.

Erick began, “I have found connections between people who would do me harm which has led me here, to you. Let me explain, as succinctly as I can…” And then he did. He conjured faces as he spoke, drawing diagrams at the same time, linking people to places. Erick was a bit impressed at how easy it was to manipulate light and produce the holograms he produced, but the man in front of him was a steel wall of indifference. Some of the surrounding guards were not so indifferent. Some of them were sweating. Erick spoke of various wand distribution centers and how he could track down where everyone on that platform had been in the past week, and he already was, but he left out that he could likely track down their whereabouts over a much longer stretch of time. Finally, he said, “And you, yourself, mister Poriti Rollini, your name of which I have discovered by sending an Ophiel into your house and checking on your usual whereabouts, and plundering your office— Well. Not actually ‘plundering’, but you get the gist. You are not the head person in charge. That person is gone to a safehouse three mountains away, which I also already found. But let us deal with you, for now.” Erick repeated, “This threat made against my family. I want it ended, and I want it to never happen again.”

Poriti spoke with a joyful, comforting voice, “That is all rather impressive, Archmage Flatt. But before we continue, I must inform you that those bombs you found on the skulls of Grouser’s wife and child are distributed to many people. Most of them children. Please do not attempt anything without first thinking of the children.” The man continued, “That said: I still have no idea what you are talking about. It seems you have discovered something of a Branch Family plot, for though most who come through our halls here at the Rollini Mansion, the assassins guarding Professor Grouser are known to me as from the Rocini Branch. If it pleases you, I would cull this threat for you, and let you know of the outcome as soon as possible. How would you like to be informed of their demise?”

This man was lying directly to his face, and Erick couldn’t get a read on him.

But the bombs were his own! The people inside the mansion already confirmed them as his spells.

He was lying right to his face, and Erick couldn’t tell! Fuck.

There was another solution to this problem. With a quick look, he scanned every person there on that outdoor platform, again. He found three people with bombs in their necks. Three Ophiels lightstepped into position, and each spent 15,000 mana on a [Dispel]. Two were guards, in the back of the platform, behind Poriti. One was an invisible guard behind Erick’s fake-lightform. All three of them gasped. That action took a single second.

Poriti yelled out, “Aggressive actions are—

The invisible guard, a male harpy, squawked, as he paused, unsure what had just happened. The visible guards both shot hands to their own necks. Poriti turned. All three of the people Erick had freed, stepped away in flashes of shadow. Two vanished; haunting looks of relief on their faces. One remained.

The harpy stepped into the sky, next to the largest Ophiel, putting distance between him and Poriti, rapidly saying, “Hello, yes, thank you, if you kill him those bombs activate. He was driving force behind da plot against you. His Charisma is too strong. I want position when you kill him. I ensure Big Boss does right by you, sir Erick, sir. Big Boss good woman. This guy trash guy.”

Poriti stared up at the harpy, then turned his attention back to Erick. He said, “I will have you know that—”

Poriti briefly turned to shadows, attempting to step away. All he managed to do was crash against a solid wall of glowing light, sending a wave of green light across his body; the glow of a [Personal Ward] taking damage.

Erick said, “Cancel all your spells and I will let you go.”

Poriti stood tall, ran a hand through his hair, then looked to Erick. He pointed past Erick’s false-lightform, past Ophiel, to the mountain on the other side of the valley. “Please direct your attention to the schoolyards over there. I have just now killed one child because of your actions right now.”

Back in the [Privacy Ward], atop the dark tiles of the Dark Temple, Erick stood, transfixed. He moved an Ophiel closer to where Poriti indicated, of course. There was a schoolyard, with a playground out front. There was a young body, missing a head. Kids screamed. Teachers stood, wide-eyed, then calmed, and began talking about how an ignorant fool must have angered Poriti.

Erick viewed the carnage and felt his stomach drop while his mind went in ten directions at once. One of those directions went to Poriti, while the man spoke, and while Erick heard him, nothing he said was too important. He was just monologuing.

There were at least ten ways to go about solving this problem. Erick picked the fastest one, and wondered if it would work, as he glanced at a spell he had made once upon a time with the help of another archmage.

Spell Breaker, instant, long range, 301 MP

Trick a normal spell into canceling. Excess Spell Breaker might go on to cancel other nearby spells similar to the first targeted. Has no effect on ongoing spells larger than 1,500 mana.

He recalled lessons on ‘pillars holding up spells’ and ‘tricking magic into canceling itself’, and then he warped all of that into a 500 Mana Shaping for something more. Something deeper, and targeted on the man in front of him. He, himself, cast a grand [Dispel] upon Poriti, spending 17,000 mana to do so.

It was only after he had made and cast the spell, that he had realized his mistake. He hadn’t made the spell wrong; he was going for a generic [Dispel] that could target the unknown [Neck Bombs] spell. When the blue box appeared, he knew he had made the spell right. That wasn’t the problem. The outcome was the problem. He tried to reason with himself that most people would make the same mistake, but that didn’t help. It was a stupid mistake, like accidentally putting a shirt on backwards; you didn’t realize what had happened until it was pointed out after the fact.

Grand Dispel, instant, medium range, 50 mana + Variable

Trick the spells a target has cast into canceling, regardless of distance, by paying the Dispel cost. If you generally know the spells you are targeting, Grand Dispel first works on all instances of that spell. If excess power remains, Grand Dispel carries over into other magics cast by the target, starting with higher-cost magics first.

Alternatively, trick a spell into canceling by paying half of the Dispel cost. Excess Grand Dispel might go on to cancel other nearby spells similar to the first targeted.

None of the kids at the schoolyard lost their [Neck Bombs]. One person inside the house, did.

The mistake was thus: Clarity, Favored Spell, All Spell Cost Reductions, and even Intelligence, did not come into effect until after the initial spell creation. Spells cost their full costs in their initial casts. Tangentially, Erick realized this was likely to prevent people from casting spells well above their capabilities; or, less cynically, maybe the Script literally couldn’t reduce mana costs until after the magic had been made.

Erick had fucked up. And now he had no mana. It would take him 13-point-5 minutes to recoup the 17,000 he had just spent. His false-lightform flinched. His real body almost fell to the floor, partially because that was nearly all of his mana and that always winded him, but also because the enormity of his fuck-up was like a kick in the nuts.

Poriti had stopped talking when Erick flung a mass of darkness at him.

But now, the man smiled. Wide and bright, and mean. He asked, “Was that your best shot?”

Erick instantly moved all his Ophiel back. He removed his lightcage around the man—

Poriti called out, “Don’t you fucking run away from me!” Ophiel paused. Poriti laughed, then yelled, “Get your feathered ass back here, Erick!” He laughed again. “No! You know what? I want your actual ass here. Now. Or I kill another kid. You got five seconds. One! Two! Whoops!”

Erick watched, horrified, as a pop occurred on the playground, and renewed screams filled the air.

With a flex of his own sunform and a flashing step, Erick stood on the cliff sticking out of the Rollini mansion. The sky was bright as daytime, though it wasn’t, and a peaceful breeze blew through the space, though it was anything but. A small part of Erick thought it was a nice day. A small part thought of Poriti as a very handsome man.

The larger part of him thought it would be nice to rip Poriti to pieces, one bone pried off at a time.

Poriti smiled. Erick remained in his sunform, his mana slowly coming back to him. It wouldn’t be fast enough. He needed a plan. He needed something unexpected.

He sent an Ophiel back to Violet and asked a question. She flummoxed a small answer, but she would need to speak to someone else to find out anything more. That was fine. Her small answer had been fine enough. Erick had her stand by, while he continued to deal with Poriti, standing before him.

Poriti laughed. “Dark Gods, you’re standing right in front of me, and I’m not having any effect on you, am I?” He pulled the collar of his black robes loose. “Still nothing? Oh well. Guess you have to die.” Poriti demanded. “Your rings. Your belt. Now. Right now. I’ll kill another kid if you don’t move fast.”

Erick moved in tune to Poriti’s demands, saying, “I’m doing it! I’m doing it!” Erick pulled at his belt, slipping a few times with the clasp, trying to give himself enough time to finish talking to Violet, dozens of kilometers away. When he finished with her, he popped off the belt, letting it clatter to the ground. It was pretty hard to pretend to be this clumsy with his Dexterity, but he managed. Maybe.

Oh. Fuck. Poriti was the best person in the world. Why would Erick ever want to harm—

“Rings, too, weakling.” Poriti sneered. “Kick the belt over here.”

Erick yanked his mind into a direction it didn’t really want to go. And then he didn’t bother with the rings. With a quick shift of tendrils of light, that definitely endangered some kids somewhere, he lifted the belt and wrapped it around Poriti’s waist.

He stared at the man; hoping.

Poriti’s eyes went wide and hopeful as he put his hands on his new belt. “And my Charisma rings are fine?! HA!” He smiled, radiant and wonderful. “I want your rings too, arsehol—“

His eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed into a heap.

At least five of the guards yelled, asking for help to save Poriti, or to kill Erick, or any number of things. Some rushed forward. Ophiels moved to intercept the rushing people, but they all stopped coming, once the feathered [Familiar]s fluffed up large, and blocked the way.

For a moment, Erick almost went and got his rod of [Greater Treat Wounds] to help the downed man, but he snapped himself out of that thought. And then he moved fast. First, he put his belt back on his own waist; it hadn’t been damaged by interacting with Poriti, and that was good. Then he stripped Poriti of all his jewelry, of any drop of metal or green gem on his body; all of it went in a pile to the side. Erick even had to do some minor surgery to remove one particular piece.

Instantly, Erick felt better. He shook his head. He glared at nothing. Then he glared at Poriti.

His rage returned.

The guards around the area also lost their Charisma-afflictions. One man violently hurled into a potted plant. One woman collapsed to the ground, the sorrow in her eyes turning to the deepest hate Erick had ever seen.

Erick regarded the man in black, laid out on the ground. And then Erick just stood there. For a long moment, he watched Poriti’s sleeping form; he watched the man’s soul toss and turn, flex and shiver. He watched for signs that Violet had mentioned. He watched, as Poritis soul began to twist, and left hand crunched in on itself, the muscles of his forearm and upper arm curling in, without biological limiters.

The twisting continued.

Erick breathed. He had time to think about everything that had happened, now. Time to reflect on what he had done wrong.

The harpy stepped down onto the ground near to Poriti, but not too close. He stared at Poriti’s broken hand.

Erick said to the harpy, “That’s… Probably that.”

The harpy blanked. “Sir?”

“What Stats did Poriti have? That you know of?” Erick said, “I’m guessing Charisma and Intelligence.”

“Yeah. He had dose.” He asked, “Is… Is Poriti… What’s happening to him? What did you do?”

“They remade the Charisma Fruit into a Perception Fruit, you know?”

“Uh…” He shook his head. “I don’t know bout dat, sir. Is he going ta be out for long? Can we kill him now?” The harpy pleaded with his eyes, but kept his desire mostly out of his voice, “Please, sir. We must end him, fore he wakes.”

“That’ll activate the bombs.” Erick pointed to the pile of green jewelry. “I took that off of him. He’s clean.”

“He’s NOT.” The harpy calmed. “He has gems inside. I know! I tried ta do dis once. I failed. Your mind, it be clouded. Please, sir. We have to kill him. Now.”

Erick touched a light tendril to the pile of jewelry, overturning a bloody, silver-clad emerald. “It was inside his chest. Already removed.” He said, “We have long enough to rescue those kids.”

“… If you say so, sir.”

With a thought, Erick sent an Ophiel back to the Dark Temple. Once there, he asked Violet for a mana potion. She nodded, then stepped away. In moments, she was back, holding a blue vial. In a few more moments, that vial was in Erick’s hand. He cast a [Cleanse] on it, then when nothing happened, he downed the drink. His body relaxed. His soul seemed revived. Mana poured in, like the opening of a dam.

The harpy kept his attentions to Poriti, lying on the ground.

Erick also watched the man for signs of movement, planning to bring this tragedy to an abrupt end if needed.

He also thought of his own needs for future situations like this one. He could use [Sleep], or something similar. Something stronger, for sure. That was Mind Magic, though, so maybe that was a non-starter. He might be able to find some other nonviolent means to take out a target, but he would ask around for [Sleep], first. Poi would have an answer for him, right away.

He glanced through Ophiel, back to the bloody playground, and wondered what it would take to get [Resurrection]. Probably a lot.

A minute passed in relative silence; Erick’s mana was almost back to full. Poriti showed no signs of waking, at all. Something was definitely buggy with the Charisma/Perception interaction, for sure.

A few guards on the cliff platform made themselves scarce. Erick recognized when they left, but he gave no pursuit. A few stuck around; those ones watched Poriti with obvious hatred in their eyes.

Erick was back up to full mana.

He fired off another [Grand Dispel], with all of his bonuses. This time, 17,000 mana transferred into roughly 425,000 points of dispelling power, if Erick’s 4% Spell Costs estimate from earlier remained true. He had no real way of knowing that particular number, for now.

Looking through an Ophiel on the other side of the valley, Erick saw that the kids in the schoolyard had run away from the space where two bodies lay, and were now hiding wherever they could. Erick managed to catch sight of several of them. He began to check them, one by one.

Missing bomb. Missing bomb. All clea—

Nope. There was one bomb— Two bombs. A few more bombs.

Erick asked the harpy, asking, “Was Poriti’s 150-kid number accurate?”

The harpy said, “Probably. Maybe higher. He spends an hour a day, five days week, each day at a different school.” He scowled at the sleeping man, adding, “He casts same spell at us when we break rules, and then he leaves it on us forever.”

“What rule did you break?”

“… I tried to kill him when he started using all that Charisma.”

Erick nodded.

There were only 25 people at the school across the valley. Erick’s [Grand Dispel] should have gotten all of them, and a few more besides. But that discrepancy was easy to account for if [Grand Dispel] worked on the closest targets first. And sure enough, a check inside the house revealed all the [Neck Bombs] gone from all the women and men in there. Some of those people were packing up their clothes and other such stuff, as they rushed to get away from the area. Some were just crying. Erick left them be.

Erick asked the harpy, “How much mana does it cost him to cast those [Neck Bombs]? How much to [Dispel]? They do detonate if he dies, right?”

“1200 mana cost. But da bomb resists [Dispel]. Equivalent 15,000 mana to remove, but he knows when it’s gone.” The harpy said, “That’s da problem. Poriti knows when people be messin wit his magics.” He looked to Poriti, saying, “Dis man deserves everyting you be given him. And, yah. Dose bombs explode ifn he bites da ground.” He leaned closer to the sleeping, tortured man, saying, “He don’t look ta be waking.”

Erick said, “He won’t. I’ll kill him before that happens. But I can rescue more kids, first.”

“Big tings are gonna change when he’s finally dead.”

Erick didn’t doubt that.

Killing Poriti would be the start of a massive change in the criminal cultures of Truedark Arcanaeum. Killing Poriti was the correct choice. But would someone worse come along, later? Whatever. That wasn’t Erick’s problem. His problem was this man laying on the ground in front of him.

The harpy whispered, “Maybe tings get back ta normal-like.”

Maybe; for a given example of ‘normal’. Nothing about the Clergy or the Brightwater District was ‘normal’. Nothing about Veird was ‘normal’, either, but this place was extra fucked.

As for the [Neck Bombs], Grouser’s 15,000 [Dispel] number was correct, it seems. Or at least the professor and this assassin had been fed the same information. But, whatever. That line of thinking wasn’t productive for the current math problems.

With a bit of mental math, which was quite a bit easier since he got all this Intelligence, at 15,000 mana to [Dispel] a single [Neck Bomb], that meant he had cleaned 28 people, with his 425,000 effective mana [Grand Dispel]. That meant that Erick needed to cast his [Grand Dispel] 5 more times at least, at that same cost, to clear out a full 150 [Neck Bombs].

His mana was back up to full, so he cast again. Somewhere out there, 28 more [Neck Bombs] disappeared. Erick decided to find out where those other schools were. With a thought, he directed an Ophiel into the sky, and soon, a cascading orb of light appeared even higher above, while a map took hold in the air near that Ophiel.

Erick cast his [Grand Dispel] again.

He found the other schools. He found more [Neck Bombs].

Meanwhile, he cast another [Grand Dispel].

Now that the problem was getting solved, Erick asked Violet for a better answer than the one she gave him before. She nodded, then stepped away in a flash of shadows.

His mana filled, and he cast for the fifth time.

Poriti had yet to stir awake, at all.

Erick’s mana came back for the sixth time, leading to the cast of his sixth [Grand Dispel]. The mana potion was beginning to lose effectiveness. Instead of ten times his mana regen, it was only four times. With one more cast of 17,000 mana, the seventh one, the potion was on its last legs. As the dark magic soaked into Poriti, his [Personal Ward] blinked bright green as if under attack, and then broke. The weight of a hundred and fifty families slipped off of Erick’s shoulders. He smiled. If his [Grand Dispel] was turning off that, that meant there were no more [Neck Bombs] out there.

Erick had expected 5 more [Grand Dispel]s; he ended up with 7. Who else had this guy bombed?

“Good,” Erick whispered, to himself. Then he asked the harpy, “What’s your name?”

“What is good— I mean!” The man looked nervous, then just blurted out, “Terodoor. Uh. Sir.”

“Well, Terodoor.” Erick gestured to the man. “The last spell cleared off Poriti’s [Personal Ward], which means all his other currently cast [Neck Bombs] are gone. Why would he claim to have 150 out there, then have a lot more?” Erick didn’t truly care, but it was a discrepancy; one that Erick might need to pursue.

“Uh.” Terodoor looked to the other guards, ten meters away, looking for answers. One guard shrugged. The others mostly shook their heads; unknowing. The harpy turned to Erick. “Uh. He put dem on other contacts, too?” He admitted, “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough.” Erick asked, “What do you want to do to the man?”

The man’s eyes lit up, and then he stopped. “… You’re giving me dis honor, sir?”

Erick grabbed Poriti’s prone form with light, lifting him into the air, tilting the man’s head back, exposing his neck. “Yes. He wronged you, right?”

“Yes he did!” Terodoor’s eyes turned hateful, and happy, “But. Uh. You sure?”

“Yes. Cut off his fucking head.”

Terodoor turned his maniacal eyes on the man who had once planted a bomb in his neck, and said, “Den! Then! I take out the trash, sir.” He lifted his wing. Great talons of shadow coalesced in the air, combining into one, to look like a curved guillotine, before the man’s wing went down, dragging the shadowy weapon with it. The talon sliced clean through. Blood spurted. The head rolled away.

Erick threw a [Cleansing Flame] on the body parts. He watched as white fire leapt high, and the soul that had inhabited the body fled, like so much fog under a sunny sky. Erick, and everyone else, watched, as the body burned away to nothing.

Erick flexed his sunform onto the green jewelry, and with a supercharged [Lightshape], he twisted that part of the world into a glittering, bright green and sheared metal mess. A continued twisting turned that mess into a single green orb of broken emeralds and precious metals. He gave it to Ophiel, and though it was no longer magical, and was very unable to be [Mend]d back together, he had Ophiel plop it into his room, back at Quilatalap’s cottage.

Erick said to Terodoor, “Do I need to threaten you to keep your organization out of my affairs and away from my family?”

“Sir no sir!” came Terodoor’s quick reply. “We know not ta mess with da powers round ‘ere!”

Erick turned his gaze toward the other guards, still standing at the edge of the platform, closer to the mansion. “Do I need to threaten anyone else? Do I need to kill anyone else to prevent other plots against me or mine?”

“Sir no sir!” came the reply of every guard still visible, and a few that were invisible.

“Good.” Erick said, “Then I’m done here. Don’t make me come back.”

Terodoor dropped to his knees before pressing his head against the ground.

One by one, and rather fast, everyone else on the cliff followed suit, kowtowing toward Erick.

Erick left without looking back.

- - - -

Erick stepped onto the dark tiles of the Dark Temple, south of the Palace. Lerreg was still there, near the doors. Violet was missing—

Violet stepped onto the ground near Lerreg, briefly scaring the poor lad.

“Sir.” She said, “I have found out a larger answer to what you asked.”

Erick put on a happy face. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Violet nodded. “Shade Lapis informs you that in the case of overlapping Stats, such as Charisma and Perception, the result is almost always a true monster, but this is easy to prevent, if the imbiber of the conflicting fruits seals their soul against outside forces. In the case of a successful sealing, the original Stat remains; the other is discarded. The only way to switch from Charisma to Perception is to first rid the Charisma person of their Charisma, and only after that occurs, can they then safely take up Perception.

“In the case where a soul takes in both Charisma and then Perception, they would become an abomination, without fail. Shade Lapis discovered this problem with the new Stats when she briefly had a Virility Fruit tree, which overlapped with Dexterity.” She said, “There was an innuendo in there that she instructed me to share with you if I felt I could do it justice. I cannot. Do you wish to hear it anyway?”

“Thank you, no thank you.”

Violet nodded, then added, “In exchange for this information, Shade Lapis desires your company this evening. She has instructed me to tell you that this is non-negotiable. Dinner is at 10 PM. She will pick you up. Expect an interview about how your own Stats are affecting you, and about what you did to Poriti Rollini. She saw the whole thing, and she did not expect Poriti to be affected by this Stat overlap phenomenon.”

Erick breathed deep. “… Fine.” He added, “Has Quilatalap’s presentation begun?”

“Almost. We have very little time, though.”

With all that done, Erick turned toward Lerreg. The boy stiffened. Erick rattled off, “Toff and Hutt are dead. They were murdered by some people who Shade Farix has since taken care of. Professor Grouser was the one who cast that exploding bone spell upon you, but it was done under the auspices of Poriti Rollini, who had planted similar bone bombs in others. Poriti’s bombs were simple neck bombs, though.” Erick said, “The list of problems not solved is thus: Poriti’s obvious connection to Grouser. The identities of the people who fired missiles at me, Violet, and you. The necessity of planting [Neck Bombs] in children— though I rather suspect that was to keep Farix at bay. That’s over, now, by the way.” Erick continued, “The validity of harming a White Market weighs upon me, because, since they operate under the Shades, I probably should have helped them, but they threatened me instead of seeking out a pleasant solution to all of our problems. And they were criminals who killed and mind controlled to get what they wanted. The only one who actually got what was coming to him was Poriti, but that’s as far as I was willing to go. So. Lerreg.” Erick stared the kid down. “Far as I can tell you just got caught up in something because Toff and Hutt hated you or saw you as an easy mark; I don’t know.

“But since you’re into making monsters and such, which is already rather confrontational, you might want to consider a plan that doesn’t bring you into conflict with others, and especially not conflict with me. Biodiversity is good. Biodiversity that kills, not so much. If I see you letting killer whales out into the oceans, I will come and kill you, too. So good luck going forward.”

With a serious face, Lerreg said, “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Erick walked off. Violet followed. Ophiels lifted from the pillars and the wall, to flutter after Erick.

Lerreg remained behind.

- - - -

When Erick got out of direct sight, Lerreg smiled, then hyperventilated a bit, before dropping to his knees. He bowed toward the empty Dark Temple and remained there for a long while, just breathing, and probably praying.

Far to the south, where the waterfalls from thirty kilometers above rained down the crystal cliff, touching off on green spaces and journeying along many carved paths to the Palace District below, there sat an Ophiel. He fluffed out his feathers, scattering drops of water into the air, as his hidden claws gripped the green moss under him. He watched Lerreg for a little while. Maybe he’d get to watch the boy for a few days, just to see if anything else came of Erick’s little foray into the local criminal scene.

But probably not. There was lots to do around here.

For now, though, he’d watch.

- - - -

Far afield, at another nice part of the Arcanaeum District, white marble towers and peaked-roof buildings sat atop the peak of a mountain. A dozen kilometers to the east, the green lands became towering crystals that rose dozens of more kilometers into the sky, but here, the wind blew nicely, and the false light of the Brightwater hung in the sky, providing light for all.

A human woman, wearing something resembling a bikini, reclined in a nice chair, atop one of those marble towers, while she read a large book. Though her hair was white and something about her made her seem like she was in her seventies, her heavily tanned skin was unwrinkled, while her face was mostly unlined.

She was the Big Boss, according to the DNA trail and the various clues Erick had discovered inside the Rollini mansion. Erick knew this chiefly because her portrait hung above the mantle of a fireplace, her picture was nowhere to be seen in the main office though others were, and a few other facts he had uncovered here and there. With all of his snooping, Erick had discovered her name, too: Karine Rollini. She was Poriti’s adoptive mother, while he was her third adopted son.

Ophiel settled down on the railing of the marble tower, a meter away from Karine.

Karine glanced over her book, saying, “Why hello there, pretty birdy. I was wondering when you were going to fly closer than just out of range of our alarms.”

Erick said, “Did you have anything to do with Poriti’s attempt on me and mine?”

“Not directly.”

“… Explain.”

“That man used the information network I built and the people I have recruited in order to enact his plan against you, but before he ever got that far, he was doing similar threatening tactics to lesser powers.” Karine said, “Bombs in necks, in order to keep the rougher elements under thumb. Eventually, that became bombs in the necks of kids, in order to keep the stronger powers at bay. Or at least those who would succumb to this method of threat.”

“Your society is terrible.”

“The terrible rise to the top, or they succumb. For all his overreaching, Poriti was a power who kept various other powers from our throats.” She added, “Until he got too full of himself. I should have seen it coming, but these things creep up on you, you know?”

“If this was your plot against me, you could have come at me differently. An alternate outcome might have occurred.”

Karine said, “That was not me, Archmage Flatt, though I am glad to know my son has not burned all avenues of communication between us.”

“Yeah… Well...”

“If I had been in charge, this never would have happened. But I was ousted by my son months and months ago, and though I grieve as a mother, it is a small emotion compared to the relief of knowing a true monster is dead. He killed his sister and brother before throwing me out here, and cutting off almost all my methods of communicating with the outside world, you know?”

“I figured something like that had happened. He kept family portraits on the walls, but with the faces removed or slashed through. Your own portraits were fine.”

“… He did that, huh?” She looked sad for a moment, and it seemed genuine, even when she faintly smiled. She said, “It’s a rather sad sort of glad, to know he’s dead, if you can understand that.” She leaned back in her chair, banishing all emotions as she regained her poise, and said, “Now, if you don’t want to kill me, and if you don’t wish to go against the Clergy and rescue me, too, then I must ask you to leave. I have no doubt that my own Divine Judgment will be arriving when they feel like arriving, but I can’t imagine it taking much longer than it already has.”

Ophiel departed.

- - - -

Erick stepped up to a large pavilion, on the north side of the Palace, facing the Brightwater. It was a nice location, suitable for any number of medium-sized parties. Rainbow auroras decorated the dark sky, while the lake itself cast white light all across the horizon, and a cool wind blew into the space. Of the space itself, there was a small stage to the front, set with a podium made of crystal and a backsplash made of the same, but much taller than the podium, and big enough for at least two chalkboards.

To the sides of the space stood weapons, cups, shields, rings, and other such items, attached to pedestals with little placards on them that described the items, then gave brief descriptions of who they went to and what happened after that. They were replicas. Erick was barely able to recognize that they were replicas and to glance at a few placards before he had to get to his chair, near one of the tables set up for the event. There were at least twenty Shades in attendance already, with most of them sitting down and quietly talking to each other in whichever groups they felt like.

Erick sat down at an empty table, near the front, where someone had laid a card with ‘Fire of the Age’ written upon it in nice calligraphy. He had barely sat down, when a flicker of shadows to his right heralded the arrival of Queen, who also sat down at his table.

Erick put on a happy face as he said to the new arrival, “Hello.”

Queen said, “Hey, Erick. I heard you dismantled a White Market today.”

Erick lost some of his false-mirth. “They tried to dismantle me, first.”

Queen smiled. “If what I heard was true, that they were using kids as shields, then they deserved way worse than what you gave them. Some corruption is necessary in any society, but Farix let that one get waaaay out of hand.”

Two tables over, a human man who Erick recognized as the Shade of Enlightenment, spoke up, “Everyone gets weeds in their fields when the fields are big enough. Lay off of Farix, Queen. He does a good job.”

Queen angled her seat and herself toward the man. “Maybe if he wasn’t laying every piece of ass that came in his field of view then he’d do better, Leofield. And how much land do you have now that you lost your position as Chancellor of Truedark, hmm?”

“I’m going to have entire worlds, my dear.” Leofield said, “And don’t worry so much about Farix. Sex is one of the easier vices to satiate. Much easier than—”

A flash of shadows resolved into Fallopolis, as she stepped onto the pavilion, saying, “He’s not as bad as some of you, that’s for sure. Melemizargo knows how many of your messes I’ve had to clean.”

Leofield huffed at Fallopolis, saying, “While taking all of our research and setting us back multiple years. Decades, sometimes!”

“Punishments for failure and time for you to better understand what you did wrong, my dear former Truedark Chancellor.” Fallopolis walked to the front of the room and took a seat at Erick’s table, then angled back to say, “What do you even do anymore? Anything? You haven’t fucked up in a while, so either you’ve gotten a lot better than you used to be, or you’ve been nothing but a drain on My God.”

Leofield’s face broke into a wide smile. He chuckled a bit, then said, “I’ve got some nice things coming down the line, Fallopolis. Just you wait.”

Fallopolis fired her own smile at the man, saying, “Better be good, Leofield.”

There was no flicker, this time. Quilatalap simply stepped onto the crystal platform ahead. If Erick didn’t have Ophiels watching that part of the pavilion, he would have missed the archlich’s entrance. The crowd ceased their talking as Quilatalap stood behind the podium. The crystal backsplash animated into color and light, and a large image, five meters wide by four meters tall, showed an aerial view of the Armory. It was exactly as Erick remembered; bulbous and black, like a land of kilometer-wide soap bubbles frozen in time.

Quilatalap spoke, “Welcome, everyone, to this year’s Armory Presentation. You all know me; I’ve done this a thousand times already. Some of you have heard this hundreds of times. But for one person, this is their first. So let me explain a little bit about the purpose of this production...”