A familiar, long-dead caldera filled Erick’s vision. Black, rippled crust extended off into the distance, where house-sized spikes of volcanic glass shredded the constant fog that flowed into this dark, holy space.
Phagar stood to one side of the black caldera, looking much like Erick.
Melemizargo stood on the other; only half his full size, or maybe a bit smaller; a nod to the size of the arena, perhaps. He flexed his wings, dispersing the crowding mists.
Erick stood between the two gods, and did not let them speak first. He demanded, “I will be Phagar’s Champion. I will kill Tania, and then this… This horrific night will be done.”
His words echoed across the caldera for a stretched moment.
Melemizargo’s deep voice rumbled, “A Championship will not save you.” He stated, “None of the gods can help you face Tania, and even I cannot help you much more than I already have.”
Erick did not expect Melemizargo to be here, and though his words were worrying, his stance did not matter right now. Erick looked to Phagar.
Phagar did not look happy. He said, “I cannot.”
Anger. Regret. Frustration without outlet. Emotions warred within him, and they were enough to drown, but Erick held himself above the metaphorical waves, and asked, “Why?”
“Because you come to me in the hour of your greatest need, demanding something you don’t truly desire, with consequences far beyond the ‘Now’.” He added, “And Tania’s plan is to capture your soul and save it for Sundering in her own hour of greatest need, when she needs the temporary power of an untempered Wizard.” Phagar spoke with a finality to his decree, “I will not add my own power to hers.”
“… Ah.” It was a cruel sort of calculus, but Erick understood. “Very well. What else can you offer, then?”
Phagar smirked, then looked up to Melemizargo, but spoke to Erick, “What I can offer is to slip you into your body of five minutes ago.”
Melemizargo scoffed.
Phagar continued, “Everything that has passed will have been but a particularly vivid [Future Sight].”
Melemizargo spoke, “Gifts of Time are useless in the face of power.”
“He could win, if given another chance.” Phagar said, “Your Champion is not Absolute and now Erick has a bit of knowledge of what will come.”
Melemizargo ignored Phagar and said to Erick, “Erick. This is not the way you will win. You look to the wrong institutions for help when the answer has been staring you in the face this whole time.”
Erick narrowed his eyes at the former god of magic, asking, “Got any better ideas that don’t involve me selling my soul to you?”
Melemizargo laughed. “Ha! That is not my way.” He said, “There is only one thing holding you back, and it is not a lack of time or space. Five minutes will not matter. Even five centuries of learning would not help you inside the Feast Barrier. No! Tania might be the sword that commits the final bloodletting, but the truth is that only one thing will be killing you tonight, and that is the Script, itself.”
Erick stilled. He said, “Then what do you propose, Melemizargo?”
Phagar sighed, almost small enough to miss.
Two more gods stepped into the black caldera. Rozeta, looking angry in her pantsuit-wearing white-wrought human body. And Koyabez, looking resigned, and wearing his usual loincloth.
Koyabez said, “There is only one way this night ends well for the world, my old friend.”
“Phagar is right about one thing and one thing only. Tania is not Absolute.” Melemizargo huffed, “But your solutions are too weak.”
Rozeta spat, “Only because you have put too much of yourself into that wretch for her to ever fall to anything other than her own hand. So get to it, Old Man. Tell us all your desire, and how you plan to damn Erick by offering him power, just how you have damned every mortal who has ever been born into this tiny world, and crossed your evil path! Show us, yet again, how you will damn this world with every chance you get! But lo! Watch as we watch him deny you, as he should, and then still die to Tania, as would any other archmage, Wizard or not. For you cannot be trusted. You cannot be bargained with. You cannot be allowed into the Relevant Entities of the Script.”
As Rozeta spoke, eyes opened in the fog all around; the eyes of deities, both major and minor. Atunir stood in the fog, surrounded by plants and farm animals, alongside Sininindi, who stood beside a storm-tossed tree. On the other side of the caldera stood the alabaster form of Aloethag, and the armored presence of Sumtir, the god of Righteous War. Between those gods were dozens of other divine eyes, belonging to other gods, and other beings.
Angels stood watching from the mist, some ancient, and some ascended mortal, all witnessing the events unfolding around them, all with great fervor and hatred in their sight. Some looked to Erick. Some, at Melemizargo. But the majority gazed to the other side of the caldera, at the demons.
The Demons, both incani and long-dead transformed elders, held much the same hatred in their eyes.
But they all listened to Rozeta rail against her father.
Rozeta declared, “But besides that! What is really happening here is that you believe that tonight is a forgone conclusion. Erick is already dead. Tania has already gone on to her final war. The only thing actually happening here tonight, is that you are hoping for Tania to redeem herself over a few centuries. That she will grow a spark of empathy, or maybe that Hollowsaur will taint her with his own Blessing. You are hoping to claim your own form of legitimacy through a weakening of our collective resolve, and the removal of humanity and thus the Quiet war.”
“There are many plans, my dear daughter.” Melemizargo said, “Any of them work for my needs.” He turned to Phagar, “But this Gift of Time is not enough. Therefore—” He turned to Rozeta. “Break him from the Script, or I will offer the service myself.”
A hundred voices decried the Dark Dragon, from both sides of the caldera.
Rozeta spoke louder than them all, “No.” She glared at her father, and said, “But you already know I will not do that, for what you actually want is the temporary suspension of the Script Second to give him a taste of your dark power so as to drag yet another Wizard one step closer to your all-devouring abyss.”
As the notion of Melemizargo’s offer went unconsidered, Erick moved right along onto Rozeta’s ‘conclusion’, demanding to know, “You think I’d fall for that sort of trick?!”
“There is no ‘falling for it’. It is a fact. Power demands to be used, and once you have a taste of unfettered magic, then you will want more.” Rozeta said, “I have seen it a thousand times before.”
And now, Erick was truly angry, “What-the-fuck-ever! You want Tania dead, yeah? This is a big deal, yeah? Besides! Sininindi and all the rest of you are planning on murdering me before Yggdrasil outgrows his bonds, so what does it really matter if I fall to the Darkness in 75 years! I’ll be dead by your hands well before then, all of my own magic will already be out there, and killing Tania right now is much better than the plans she is enacting against the whole world, at this very moment!” Erick demanded of Rozeta, “So I’ll take that suspension of the Script Second.” He turned to Phagar, saying, “And I’ll take those five minutes, too!”
Rozeta stared at Erick, her face a mask hiding much under the surface.
Melemizargo chuckled.
Erick spat at him, “Shut up, Dragon. Fuck you, too.” He pointed to the entire audience of the caldera, saying, “And fuck all of you, too! Gods damned fucking warmongers! I see what you want! You want the war! Assholes!”
Melemizargo laughed louder.
Voices carried out from the fog, raising higher, arguing against Erick, or for their own agendas.
Koyabez silenced them all as he grabbed Erick’s attention, saying, “I need you to use the artifact spell I gave you to empower your [Blessing of Empathy] into an instant-cast spell, Erick.” All voices turned silent as eyes turned to him. Koyabez looked up to Melemizargo, and yet spoke to Erick, “You must ensorcell any Shades you wish to offer a second chance before you destroy Tania, for breaking the Barrier will allow them all to get away. Fallopolis is the only exception, for you have already wrapped a part of her in something better than who she was before.”
Melemizargo shrugged; it was an odd look on a dragon. “Acceptable.”
Koyabez turned to Erick, “Know this: Goldie, Farix, and Lapis lied to you about accepting your Blessing.”
“… Ah. Wonder how I missed that.”
Melemizargo explained, “They selectively divorced a part of their souls and themselves from their beings in order to accept those Binding Bracelets without triggering those Binding Bracelets. The divorced parts will come back to them when the danger is over. It is a common technique for appearing like a different person for a little while, and is a necessary skill to master before becoming a proper member of My Clergy.”
Erick would have sighed for an hour, if he had the time. “If they weren’t pressured into a corner, they would never have even acted as though they needed my collar around their necks, would they?”
“Absolutely not.” Melemizargo said, “It is a complete anathema to who they are to accept such a thing. They will likely still fight you if you try to force this soulwork upon them, so be ready for that.”
Koyabez said to Erick, “Empathy should never be a collar, and I am sorry you had to make yours into one.”
Erick asked, “Any tips on how to handle Caizoa?”
Koyabez said, “She only followed Tania because Tania was going to win. If you’d have seen her before the Aerie broke, then you too would have thought she was on your side. And she will be, if you win.”
“Yeah… Well?” Erick said, “That’s all still up for debate.” He looked to Rozeta.
Everyone looked to Rozeta.
Rozeta scowled. She raised her hand, and a pulse of light went out. “A vote, then. You have ten seconds to vote or abstain.”
Ten seconds passed way too fast, and also like slow torture.
Rozeta glanced to the air. She frowned a little, and then she read the results with a monotone voice, “67% to deny Erick all that has transpired in this caldera and to let the world happen as it already has.”
A black rage dimmed Erick’s sight, as he muttered, “Sometimes I really hate democracy.”
“Yes. Well.” Rozeta said, “This is why we have a Goddess of the Script. Someone in charge to lead the ignorant, scared masses who vote in blocks to keep their Quiet War running.” She announced to the caldera, “You’re all outvoted.” While the Angels and the Demons roared out accusations and anger, Rozeta pointed at her father, adding, “Fuck you, dad. This is your singular chance to do right by me and Veird.” She turned to Erick. “You’re getting your Suspension of the Script Second. Don’t you make me regret this, either.”
Melemizargo bowed toward his daughter, while the caldera erupted in further anger.
Erick blinked.
- - - -
Erick blinked again.
The future condensed into a faded possibility. One of a hundred varied futures, already dimming as Erick came to back where he was, running his spells he had been running, while Fallopolis yelled to his side.
“No time to talk!” Fallopolis said, holding her staff up high. “Here they come!”
The Aerie had already exploded. Bulgan and Queen had yet to make their first appearance.
One blue box appeared, followed by a second.
SSS, 0, 0, 0
TS, 0, 0, 0
Seconds stretched unfathomably long. Time began to repeat.
Goldie vanished. Farix stepped far away. Lapis panicked, froze, then thawed out half a moment later, a calm descending over her body. She turned to shadows as several trinkets cracked and broke from her fingers, her neck, and around one of her ankles.
Erick knew Bulgan was about to appear. He looked at the people on his side, but gave a small part of his perception over to the part of the sky that would soon contain Bulgan. He knew that the Shade was likely looking for his blind spot, so if he looked to that part of the world, then Bulgan might change tactics.
Erick waited.
Bulgan appeared, almost exactly where he had before, already smashing forward, trying to scatter the group and then go in for the kill on whoever he could.
Erick activated several spells at once, including the one had been saving for what seemed like a very long time.
Death’s Approach,
Become a being of untouchable mana for 1 hour, multiplying your base mana by 10, giving you endless mana, and instantly filling your mana pool. Your regeneration is damaged to a varying degree when the effect ends, cutting your regeneration between a fifth to a tenth of what it was before. Debuff lasts until you recover the mana spent while Death’s Approach is active.
‘What appropriate flavor text, as Jane would call it.’
Of the several spells Erick cast, the one that actually caught Bulgan off guard was the [Stillness] cast upon his whole area. Bulgan’s smash turned him into a glowing ball of light, with barely any sound.
Erick was currently a ball of light, too, but different. His sunform glowed like a minor sun, and then began to glow brighter, and brighter, as [Death’s Approach] fully settled into his being, multiplying some intrinsic part of himself into untold heights.
Fallopolis laughed, saying, “Ha! Fuck you, Bulgan!”
Oh you have no idea, Fallopolis.
Erick felt a rush. The mana of the world slipped into his sunform exactly as fast as he cast. Erick preemptively moved an Ophiel to Lapis, who was just floating there, watching the blossom of light in front of them all.
Bulgan sucked in all of the light created by bursting Erick’s [Stillness] and instantly went for Lapis. Erick queued up a [Harmonic Counterspell], and kept it queued. The Ophiel next to Lapis was just for insurance purposes.
It worked just as well as it had the first time, instantly draining 15,000 mana and negating Bulgan’s attack, but this time Erick had 177,000 mana, and that 15,000 came right back, ready to be cast again.
Bulgan tried to move backward, to escape Lapis, but another [Harmonic Counterspell] killed Bulgan’s intended use of his [Greater Shadowalk]. He faltered, midair.
Lapis’s implosion didn’t miss, this time.
Bulgan turned inside out, then collapsed further inward, trying to flash some sort of magic into the air to get him out of Lapis’s attack, eliciting another activation of Erick’s [Harmonic Counterspell] for 120,000 mana. It was Bulgan’s last-ditch attempt to evade. It failed.
Erick’s mana instantly refilled.
He watched as Bulgan’s body became a speck, smaller than a fingernail, hanging in the air just in front of Lapis, who looked completely surprised. Erick was surprised, too. A part of him had not expected that. A part of him thought back to all the pain Bulgan had caused.
Bulgan had done horrible damage to Spur, and Frontier. It was his attack on Frontier that had caused Erick to accidentally kill a person for the first time, when Erick used his [Withering] on the city in order to save it from the invading monsters. Those two souls had forgiven Erick, but he had never forgiven himself; not really.
Bulgan had also murdered untold hundreds of human adventurers over the years, inside Ar’Kendrithyst. He had been the first person known to have become a Shade in the last 60 years. He had probably done much, much worse after his ascension to Shadedom, but Erick had no personal knowledge of those possible events.
Bulgan had killed over a hundred thousand people at Candlepoint, when he let the ballooning spider horde descend, all in order to draw Erick into a battle for control of that place.
And he had stymied Erick at every turn. But now, he was dead. Erick even had the notification of that death.
The fight wasn’t over, though. Erick got his head back in the battle.
But…
Queen did not appear.
There seemed to be a lull in the fight, so Erick took that moment and made something of it.
He took a part of his central sunform, and returned that part of him to solid reality. His Silver Star manifested in his center, as he vibrated his entire being with his [Blessing of Empathy], and cast another old spell that had been lying dormant in his Status for a long time.
Divine Creation,
A touch of the divine will enable the creation of an appropriate artifact.
The world flexed outward, then inward. Silver light splashed across the dark heavens, as the Silver Moon appeared up above in a way it certainly should not have been able to appear. That moon glowed in the darkness, shining brighter, and brighter, causing a mirrored glow to take hold in the center of Erick’s sunform, around his personal Silver Star, his proof of his Avowed Pacifist status. Erick held onto the moment, knowing he would remember this, and Phagar’s [Death’s Approach], for the rest of his hopefully long life.
Lapis stared, mouthing, “Holy sh—”
The silver, ghostly form of Koyabez descended onto the world, shaping what was his to shape, carving and creating under the power of what belonged in his Domain, before all others.
Erick’s own Silver Star became something shinier.
Koyabez retreated, his work done.
While everyone was still staring, still flabbergasted, Erick stepped toward Lapis, fast as he could, and used his Silver Star on her. The effect was instant. Something deep pulsed inside the Star, eliciting a similar pulse inside Lapis. She turned limp and fully physical, as she began to cry out glowing tears. Erick moved her into the warm wings of the Ophiel he had already positioned next to her. She didn’t resist; she did the opposite. She reached for Ophiel, trying to find comfort in anything, trying to wrap herself in his feathers. Ophiel turned them both to light and vacated the battlefield.
Before anyone could say anything else, he appeared behind Farix. A [Grand Dispel] for 100,000 mana cast upon his blood orbs stripped those from him, but not before one of them fired an ineffectual beam at Erick, and Erick fired off a simultaneous [Harmonic Counterspell] at Farix, directly. Erick smiled, saying, “Don’t worry.”
Farix tried to get away. He failed, as a dozen [Harmonic Counterspell]s suppressed his power. Erick touched the Silver Star to the Shade’s chest. A similar pulse, same as the one that took Lapis, shocked Farix from the inside out. He fell, insensate, into an Ophiel’s waiting arms. That Ophiel took the man away, as Erick said, “You’ll survive, now.”
Fallopolis looked to him, saying, “You better not do that to me!”
“Of course not.” Erick launched a [Cascade Imaging] into the sky, targeting Queen.
Ah. She was hiding.
Erick stepped her way, uncovering her hiding spot like finding a toddler hiding in a cupboard. With a series of very effective counterspells and other magics, he sent Queen off into the arms of another Ophiel. He was glad he could rescue her, too. She may have been on Tania’s side, but she seemed like a nice enough person, and both Violet and Fallopolis had both given her ‘good’ endorsements. Maybe now she’d realize what she’d done wrong in her life.
Erick was not under any illusions about Queen, though. She was still a Shade. She was still evil. He had seen as much in the terrified eyes of her various butlers at the First Feast and otherwise. Queen, like every Shade before her, had done some dark deeds in the shadows.
He switched the map to ‘Goldie’.
She did not show, either on the map, or to Erick’s sight.
He switched the map to Tania. She was standing far to the southeast, inside a bit of land known as Weaver’s Quarters, near the Upper Reaches. Erick nodded at the location, then turned to Fallopolis.
Fallopilis stared at Erick. She frowned. “What divine cocks did you suck while I wasn’t watching?”
“With the Feast orgies canceled I had to get my fuck on somewhere, Fallopolis.”
“Ha!” Fallopolis might have laughed, but it was a hollow sound.
Erick pointed down at the Garden. “Is Treant worth saving?”
Fallopolis flicked her gaze down to the Garden. “If you save him, I doubt anyone will ever see him again except for the most devout Walkers in the Dark. He’ll set down in some grove somewhere and that will be the end of his involvement in mortal affairs. Maybe he’ll make some forest somewhere better than it had been before? I don’t know. I’m not a fortune teller.”
Erick nodded. “Then I will be saving another before we go confront Tania.”
He stepped down into the Garden, right next to a massive, dark tree with bare branches raising into the sky like lightning bolts. It was Treant, and he was surrounded by eight fruiting trees. The Stat Trees.
A series of super fast [Harmonic Counterspell]s prevented the disguised Shade’s counterattack, while Erick’s own massively empowered sunform took care of the lashing roots and blasting beams and bashing branches that poured in from the rest of the nearby Gardens, and from Treant himself. The touch of the Silver Star soaked into the Shade, ripping through what looked almost like a Domain. The fight was over.
Erick departed, while Treant shuddered. His branches slowly drooped. Erick could have called him a weeping willow, but that seemed overly harsh. The Shade surely deserved all the emotions he was currently feeling, but Erick did not feel like being cruel.
“Okay.” Erick stepped back into the sky, next to Fallopolis.
Fallopolis flinched backwards, stepping away fast as she said, “SHIT, son!” She forced herself to relax. “You’re scaring me a little.”
Buzz.
Erick smiled. “Lie.”
Fallopolis couldn’t help but grin at him. “… Maybe.” With much innuendo, she said, “There’s certainly some strong emotion happening, though.”
Not a lie.
Erick ignored the implication, and spoke to the air, “Goldie? Are you here?”
“She’s here.” Fallopolis pointed to an empty speck of sky. “Come on out. We might actually have a chance at this, thanks to whatever juice Erick has been drinking.”
Goldie appeared, like stepping out of a fog. She stared at Erick. “Got a plan?”
“I am going to lock Tania down.” He looked to Fallopolis. “Fallopolis will end her.” He looked to Goldie. “But you’re going to run away before you get your Blessing, if you can, and I don’t like that. So either lie to my face, and be forced to accept the inevitable, or take the Blessing now, without fighting back.”
Fallopolis grinned at the assassin, saying, “He’s got you there.”
For a long moment, no one said anything.
Goldie glared, but then softened. “… The gods are really doing this, huh?”
“Not only them, but Melemizargo, too.” Erick said, “And you know this already.”
“I know.” Goldie said, “I’m just being reluctant.” She closed her eyes. She said, “I don’t want to see it coming. Do it.”
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Erick did. Goldie didn’t even flinch as the Silver Star touched her soul, eliciting the growth of something deep inside of her that had been turned off or ignored for a long time. As she collapsed in on herself, wrapping her arms around her knees, Erick had an Ophiel pick her up and move her away.
When they were alone, Fallopolis teased, but in a serious voice, “No Blessing for me, huh?”
“Nope.” Erick said, “Whatever you did a hundred years ago was pretty shitty. From my understanding you brought about the Great Purge of Spur. But since then, you’ve been helping a lot more than you’ve been harming.” He looked to her. “How did that all happen?”
Fallopolis looked away. “… It was a stupid thing I did, working us all into a frenzy to go against Spur.” She looked to Erick. “The story is stupid, when I look back on it. I worked to get Silverite called ‘Untouchable’ by the Clergy, which was about 400 of us at the time. I succeeded. Silverite got a big head and came into Kendrithyst, looking to end us all, exactly as I knew she would. Then I sprung the trap… I got a little overzealous, along with the rest of my people. Like idiots, we scoured Spur from the Crystal Forest. We never should have done that. I never should have done that.”
Erick nodded. “Why not?”
Fallopolis sighed. “Now you ask the tough one, huh.” She told the truth, “It’s not because I particularly cared about the people there. Not until they were gone. The destruction of Spur caused an event I never would have wanted, if I had known the future. It caused the rise of Kal’Duresh and Frontier, creating a brand new front of the Quiet War, that, of course, spilled into here.” Her voice took on an angry tone. “Into Kendrithyst! This once-great cosmopolitan City of the Shades became a mere reflection of the Quiet War, and then fell into even more degradation over the last century as people like Tania came into power.
“The Great Purge was a travesty on a thousand levels that I never forgave myself for allowing to happen, or for enabling. I miscalculated everything, from beginning to end, because of some misguided idea that Silverite had ties to the rest of wrought society and that by getting her, I would get the people that took my mother.” She said, “That was wrong of me, too. Silverite has always been a nobody in the Underworld.” Fallopolis laughed. “Killzone used to be a prince, though. Using him never got me anywhere, either, so that’s why I moved onto Silverite, thinking she had deep connections.” She looked to Erick. “Did you know that? About Killzone?”
“No…” Erick thought about the blacklight he had given the man; about his stunned silent reaction to the ultraviolet-glowing stone, and the brilliant purple reaction of his wrought body. Later information at that same party revealed that blacklights were used by royalty. Neither Silverite or Anhelia had the same sort of reaction as Killzone, so Killzone being a prince, and thus connected to the lights that were used as the gems of royalty, explained that discrepancy. “But that makes some sense, now that you’ve said that.”
“Too bad [Future Sight] isn’t as useful as Rear-sight, eh?” Fallopolis smirked at her own joke, then said, “You know? I killed practically every single new Shade to be born since then, trying to stomp out further expansions of the Quiet War. I wasn’t always the Culler, but that’s how I became the Culler. I had to do it, too. Every single one of them new youngling Shades would have added to the Quiet War on one side or the other. I’ve been fighting Tania ever since she was made Champion, in those stupid years after Spur’s Great Purge.” She flipped a hand through the air, toward where Bulgan died. “That Bulgan was the only one I couldn’t kill. Tania protected him too well.”
Erick nodded, taking that all in. Then he asked, “What are your thoughts on Tania?”
“You’re not going to try and save her, too, are you?” Fallopolis side-eyed Erick.
“No.” Erick said, “I cannot allow the Champion of Melemizargo to live. I have absolutely no doubt that she could break any Blessing I put upon her, so she has to die.”
“I like this side of you, Erick.” Fallopolis happily said, “If we make it out alive, I’ll show you the good time you were missing this Shadow’s Feast.”
Erick smirked. “When I’m done here, I’m probably going to go home and cry a lot. If we survive.”
“… Not a lie.” Fallopolis frowned. “That part of you is less attractive.”
Erick ignored the dig, and asked, “Tania is a Copy Mage, isn’t she?”
Fallopolis’s bright eyes went wide. “The number of living people who know that is now a total of two. You and me.”
“Just two? Not even Quilatalap?”
“… Ah.” Fallopolis said, “He might have known. I’m not sure he’s alive. Er. Dead. Undead. Whatever.”
Not a lie. Ahhh… Shit. Erick’s emotions took a funny, hateful roll through his sunform. “Fuck.” He asked, “Who did it?”
“Tania,” Fallopolis told the truth. “Happened sometime with that memory fuckery with Caizoa. She shot off some soul-rending magic; the only thing that can actually hurt a lich.” She shrugged. “But if anyone can survive that, Quilatalap can.”
Erick nodded. “And that’s enough rest.” Erick glanced through his Ophiel, checking on the Shades. The Ophiel were alone. The Shades they had been carrying had abandoned them somewhere along the way. That was fine. But instead of having them come back, Erick just resummoned a fresh batch of ten; ten casts, all in the space of one.
“Holy—!” Fallopolis averted her eyes, “Scaled God! Do you have any idea how bright that was to a proper mana sense?!”
Erick postulated, “Let’s see... Each Ophiel is worth ten of the previous Ophiel. And I saw it all happen, too. So, yes. I do have an idea. But… It wasn’t that bright.”
“Maybe to you.”
All ten Ophiel turned on their [Greater Lightwalk]s, brightening the dark sky with their gentle radiance.
Ah. Hmm. Had he made another mistake?
Erick considered the [SSS] spell he had used. It was now gone from his Status, but could his Ophiel have used that spell?
… It probably wouldn’t have worked, anyway, and now that he considered what could have been, giving [SSS] to Ophiel seemed exactly like the sort of thing that would get him smacked by Rozeta. It was probably better that he never thought to do such a thing before using the spell himself. The same went for [Divine Creation] and [Death’s Approach].
After enough time, the Ophiel each raised the same defenses that Erick had the previous ten Ophiel raise; those defenses had not worked perfectly, but they had worked well enough, so if it wasn’t broke, there was nothing to fix. [Prismatic Ward]s were cast at 30,000 mana, and restricted to dense cores of power locked to small stones held in the center of each sunform Ophiel; it was just there to provide yet another layer of defense, after all. Erick didn’t want those dense airs targeted and dispersed right away. After that, each Ophiel wrapped themselves in [Pure Reflection Ward]s to protect their exteriors, along with [Lodestar] for even more control of the light all around them, while [Hunter’s Instincts] and Sight spells flared back on, enabling extrasensory perceptions.
A perfect [Dispel Familiar] might take each one of them out in one cast, but Erick had yet to see such a spell from any Shade.
… Or maybe that’s what Bulgan had used back when Erick had tried to defend the people of Candlepoint?
Whatever.
This was good enough. The process took a few minutes. In the meantime, Erick and Fallopolis talked tactics. Tania’s little dot on the map never moved. She was still there in the Weaver’s Quarters. Waiting.
Erick was ready.
But he asked one more question of Fallopolis, “Did you split a part of yourself off, too, so that you could answer me truthfully when you so wished? To get around this mutual anti-lying Blessing?”
Fallopolis smirked. She said, “Nope. This is all me, my wonderfully smart, Fire of the Age.”
Not a lie.
“Would you even know if you split a part of yourself off, to enable lying? Could you remove the Blessing we now share if you wanted?”
“Nope! And yes.” Fallopolis said, “But our Blessing will remain for now until eternity because I wouldn’t want to remove such a nice gift from you, anyway.”
Erick just had to accept that, didn’t he?
Because for every magic that enabled or denied, there was another that got around those permissions. There was always a counter. There was always a slippery trick, somewhere… In fact, Erick thought of several good ones, and one horrific trick that should not be created. He mulled that thought over for a moment and came to an immediate conclusion. The spell he imagined would be a war crime, for sure. Something that should not exist, even if it could be used against Tania right now.
But besides that…
“She’s not moving, so I assume she wants to talk.” Erick asked, “Should we let her?”
Fallopolis frowned. “Don’t speak of plans until they are done. Don’t allow the enemy to get in your head if you know they can. Don’t walk into traps without having a way out. And don’t trust Tania to ‘just talk’.” She added, “That said… You’ve had a revelation from some future event. I can infer that we got to the real fight. And that we lost. So think of what you want the world to be like when you win, this time. Do you want her to have gotten in your head, or do you want to end her how she would have ended you?” She pointed toward the Swamp, where grey smog continued to billow from River Tower Gloom. “In ten more minutes that will have filled up the Lower Reaches. In forty, the Middle Reaches, though it’s already reached that level if only a little. There are adventurers in all those spaces. This is not over yet and the more you wait the harder it will be for them.”
“I am acting soon, but I’m just deciding how far I will go.”
“For a Shade, the only option is ‘as far as you can’.” Fallopolis looked to Erick, saying, “But for you… I am guessing that you have a trick, but are concerned that whatever you make will become a part of the Script?”
“Something like that.”
“Hmm. Minor lie.” Fallopolis thought. She said, “Don’t make this magic. We’re strong enough. I won’t hold back this time.”
“You’re weird when you’re all teeth and tentacles.”
“And eyes! Don’t forget the eyes.”
- - - -
Erick stepped into the sky a hundred meters from the center of Weaver’s Quarters, a Black Zone section of Ar’Kendrithyst where people went in but never came out. It was easy to see why. The land here was crawling with spider monsters, of all sizes and shapes and colors. Erick saw zero Shadow Spiders, but that was probably by design. The horse-sized spiders were the most noticeable, as they crawled across webs that spanned from red-purple tower to red-purple tower. But there were also flying spiders, and thousand-leg spiders, and other, larger beasts down in the purple, webbed-depths below.
Tania was a kilometer away, lounging by herself on a two-person divan in the center of a platform of silk stretched between four wide-set towers. She wore her usual white dress, while she had a plethora of snacks stacked up on the tables around her, one of which was surely a tub of ice cream, and another which were Erick’s untouched chocolate bars he had prepared for the First Feast. Tania mostly stuck to the meats and cheeses, though, while tears stained her face and Jane’s laptop sat on an arched table, perfectly positioned for Tania to watch while she drowned her sorrows. Her characteristic white tarantula was gone, as was the other person that would have fit on the other half of her divan.
Glowing white tears fell as Tania watched a movie on the laptop. It looked like a romantic comedy.
Though much of her act was fake, parts of it seemed like an act carved from a part of her heart and set out for Erick to witness, more than anything truly impossible.
Erick spoke across the sky, “How would you like to die?”
“From old age and with Bulgan at my side!” Tania abandoned the meat and cheese, scattering those snacks to the floor as she grabbed the iced cream, which was more commonly known as icies. It was green-colored. She stuck a spoon in the paper tub. “But failing that, then after this scene. It’s over in five minutes.” She ate a spoonful of green icy, and cried.
Erick moved his Ophiel inward, but had them keep some of their distance.
He glimpsed the movie.
On the laptop, a man and a woman argued in the pouring rain.
They yelled out their love and their hate at each other, and in equal measure. And then the man said something profound, stopping the woman in her tracks. She said something equally profound. The rain kept falling, but they cared not for the distraction. All they cared for was each other.
Tania suddenly sobbed. Erick’s heart wanted to reach out to her, but he stopped himself.
The man and the woman on the screen rushed each other, arms wide, to hold each other tight while lightning crashed in the background, but they didn’t mind. They only had hearts for each other. They kissed, a gentle, rough thing, that mimicked their whole relationship up till then.
The movie was not over, the rain still fell on the screen, but Tania shut the laptop. The laptop went to sleep. Tania breathed. She sighed. She set the green icy aside and collected herself as she stood from her divan. She picked up the laptop with one hand, saying, “I can only hope that this sort of technology makes it to the rest of our worlds one day.” She gestured with the laptop. “Take it, please.”
Erick moved an Ophiel forward, and took the laptop. That Ophiel retreated, carrying his cargo away as he scanned it for any magical or mundane traps.
Tania sighed, again. She breathed. She said, “I’m going to take my own life and end this chapter of my life on my own terms, if you will allow such a thing.” She held up her arm. “Blast it, please, so that you can get the Kill Box and know I am truly dead.”
Erick instantly did so, carving a [Luminous Beam] across Tania’s forearm.
Tania winced, as her hand vanished into bright light. She held up her stump, casually watching as her black blood spurted out, dyeing her white dress to black, and scattering darkness onto the white spider silk platform underneath. She did not bother to staunch the flow. She looked up and over at Erick, and said, “You have glimpsed a future, and come back to make things end as the gods will. I see this, and though I could fight this, as I have fought this before… I cannot. Melemizargo has declared all Shades must die, and so I will follow this decree, to honor the life he has given me.” She breathed. “But I know that the woman you saw in a previous reality probably did some horrible shit.” She breathed again. “I would like to leave my office of the Champion of Melemizargo with a bit more dignity than whatever caused you to make whatever bargains you were able to make. Please remember me as I am now, so that whichever Champion may come later is not tainted by actions that I have never done.
“Goodbye, Fire of the Age. I wish you well in illuminating this New Cosmology for all of Those Who Aspire.”
Tania Webwalker, Champion of Melemizargo, detonated under her own power, becoming a fireball of shadows and light barely larger than the silk platform under her feet. A blue box appeared; a kill notification. In a detached sort of way, Erick recognized that she gave less experience than the Witch.
And it was over.
It was actually over.
Was this real?
This was real.
Was it, though?
Yes. It was.
Fallopolis stepped up next to Erick. The two of them looked upon the tattered remains of the spider silk platform that had been the location of Tania’s End. She said, “Unexpected.”
Erick’s voice was barely above a whisper, as he said, “Yeah… Unexpected.”
Fallopolis had no trouble acclimating to the new world all around them. She happily asked, “What next?”
Erick latched onto something he had only just then realized.
He pointed to a spot in the sky located directly above Abyss Lake, next to a small, barely known location known as the Observatory. An illusionary world floated above, smaller than some, but not the smallest Erick had seen. It was a one-house world, with a small lake and a few scattered trees, with something made of eyes and teeth and claws casually lurking in the shadows of that fake world.
“That’s yours.”
Fallopolis frowned. “Doesn’t count if I told you that in a different timeline.”
“You never did. But enough Shades died to make it easy enough to guess which one was yours.” Erick seemed to acclimate to the new world all around him, too, while he asked, “So what’s my reward?”
“Hmm.” Fallopolis looked Erick over, then said, “I was going to give you that Blessing that I was going to give you, but you already refused that, and the goal was getting you to murder every Shade you could… Which you have managed to do with a little bit of help from me getting the whole thing started.” She added, “And with the gods, I suppose. So that’s great. I approve of most of that.” She thought. She said, “How about this? I promise to give you updates on how each of the Shades you saved are doing?” She added, “I need to keep eyes on them, anyway.”
Erick nodded. “Sure. Maybe don’t report to me, but be sure to tell Killzone and the rest. Unless you find one of the Blessed Shades are in need of another Blessing.”
“I can do that.” Fallopolis said, “I’m sure at least one of those Evil Shades will try to wriggle out from underneath their new obligations.” She brightened, as she said, “And I can also tell you a secret—” She paused. She frowned, and said, “Ah. Er. No. Maybe not.”
Erick frowned right back at her. “What.”
“Ohhhh. It’s not that bad! You know what? I’m just going to tell you. And I’ll tell you more than one secret, too. Lots of rewards, for the great hero, the Fire of the Age, Erick Flatt!” Fallopolis said, “The first secret is that the spell [Healing Word] does not enable extra casting outside of the Script Second. What the spell does allow is for the user to queue multiple iterations of Healing Word and then release them as necessary over the course of ten seconds or so. You can extract this usefulness out of [Healing Word] and enable a bit of cheating around the Script Second. It’s not as useful as being a Shade and getting all your magic outside of the Script Second. But it’s a good trick.
“The second reward is that you can now remove the Feast Barrier at your leisure. It won’t come down just because Tania is dead, but you can just throw that [Grand Dispel] of yours at it, and start punching holes in the working. If you choose not to break it right now, then I’m going to break it tomorrow after I’ve cleaned up what I need to clean up. After that, I’m gone. The other Shades will likely vanish as soon as they can, too.
“The third reward is that I like you Erick, and that makes me want to tell you some deep truths, but I can’t tell you any more secrets because you have no mental training to resist Mind Mage intrusion. I can tell you that I’ll be checking up on you occasionally, just to make sure you’re still you. So try not to kill me the next time you see me, okay?” Fallopolis said, “I’ll try not to let myself be killed, either.”
Erick absorbed all of that faster than he thought he could. After he did, he asked, “Will the Mind Mages actually be a problem?”
Fallopolis smiled a sad smile, and said, “Yes. But maybe not. You killed every Shade in Ar’Kendrithyst, except for me, Goldie, Farix, Treant, Queen, Lapis, and Hollowsaur, and each one of us you Blessed into submission. You even killed Tania! That’s bound to get you some goodwill.”
“… You called it ‘Ar’Kendrithyst’.”
“I did.” She nodded. “This city has always been a land of refugee souls from a distant Cosmology, hoping and praying for new bodies. So it was never really ‘The Dead City of Kendrithyst’. But I guess we’re giving up on that? Eh. It’s Melemizargo’s decision, and I likely don’t have all of those answers.” She said, “People will call this city what they have been calling it for a long time, and now there are no Shades to countermand the will of the world.” Fallopolis pointed across the webbed sky, toward the Brightwater. “But people still live here. That’s certainly a living part of Kendrithyst. That’s the bomb that will go off now that all the Shades are dead. That culture is dangerous, Erick.”
He felt a sinking feeling, again.
Fallopolis said, “So good luck with all of that. I’m off to pillage some knowledge before I go. Care to join me in the Library?”
Erick looked to the north. “Not yet. I have to fix the Swamp.”
Fallopolis nodded. “I’ll set some books aside for you! Be sure to take them and hide them somewhere no one else will find them.” She added, “I’ll probably have to give them to you several times if the Mind Mages get involved, but that’s fine. See you later!” She turned to leave.
“Wait.” Before she stepped away, Erick asked, “Are you going to change your name?”
Fallopolis suddenly froze. “Oh. Shit.” She turned back to Erick, looking contemplative. “… I really want to share that third reward with you, Erick, but not until I know the Mind Mages won’t get you. I’ll be ‘Fallopolis’ for a long while longer.”
“See you later, then, Fallopolis.”
Fallopolis bowed. “Fire of the Age.”
She stepped away in a flash of shadows.
After a moment of simply standing there, Erick stepped away toward the Swamp.
When he arrived, he gazed down into the bowl-like area of the Swamp, and saw a vision of the apocalypse laid out before him, for twenty-five kilometers in every direction. Dead trees. Grey mists turning those trees into mush. Mushrooms growing out of everything. Zombies crawling through the mists. Giant mobile mushrooms, walking around like kings, directing forces forward into the chasms in the surrounding curtain wall of the Swamp. Here and there, Toxic Hydras roared out green and grey light, filling the sky with even more grey mists, while green pools glowed beneath them all. More, unknown monsters, crawled through the mists. Erick was certain that one of the pods of beasts was some sort of Moon Reacher-type monster, except it was shaggy black, instead of shaggy grey.
A light tingling at the bottom of his sunform, ripping away his control over his own magic, indicated the presence of radiation in the air. Erick adjusted his and his Ophiels’ sunforms to block out all of that harmful light, along with the associated beta-decay particles, or whatever other radiation or exotic extreme lights hovered in those grey mists, tearing at himself and his [Familiar]s. It worked to cut the tingle, more or less.
Ten Ophiel unleashed ten [Domains of the Withering Slime], adding yet another layer of white light to their hovering forms. Thick air spilled out into the hordes below. Monsters popped, sending up plumes of even more thick air into the grey mists, carving holes into the poison with each accompanying [Cleanse]. The effect was smaller than it should have been, but Erick had ten Ophiel, and that made up for most of the difference.
Erick released a thousand [Mirage Slimes] over the course of a minute, while his Ophiels employed [Luminous Beams] upon the more dangerous monsters and [Vivid Gloom]s upon the more dangerous hordes. Experimentally, he cast a 100,000 point [Grand Dispel] into the mist. That didn’t work.
After twenty minutes, he cleaned up almost every monster, though some of them had certainly gotten away.
He moved to River Tower Gloom; the source of the mists. The green kendrithyst mountain proved a bit resistant to his efforts to excavate and discover the actual source of the problem, but he managed. Well before his [Death’s Approach] ended, Erick’s Ophiel had entered directly into the poisoned river and followed the twists and turns through the green mountain, finding artifacts strung along the whole of the aqueduct that turned water into poison. A bit of crushing, repeated a hundred times, was all it took to end the outpouring of grey mist into the Swamp.
A bit more cleanup outside, and the Swamp was cleansed. More or less. It was still an apocalyptic warzone, but the monsters were gone. The sight reminded Erick of his time helping to clean up the Crystal Mimic incursion past the Wall.
With that done, he checked up on the Shades whom he had given a second chance.
They were doing okay.
Farix was down in Truedark, helping rescue people from rockslides and giving orders to all who could listen.
Lapis stood beside the orcol-form Treant, inside the Garden, standing beside the Stat Trees. They spoke in low voices, asking for forgiveness. The trees did not respond. Treant touched a tree, and it turned ethereal, before vanishing completely, becoming as though it never was. They moved onto the next.
Goldie and Queen were at the Palace District, inside a map room with gold-inlaid work tables, surrounded by ornate shelves full of expensive-looking books. They spoke about Quest Requirements over a massive map of Nelboor, talking about how to best fulfill the needs set before them. They shot their eyes to the left, to the door to the room. A butler walked in, wondering who he had heard, but Goldie and Queen were already gone. Their map and a few books were gone, too.
Hollowsaur stood in the dark, below the broken Jungle, searching through the remains of a broken plateau that had once housed hundreds. He was not alone. A few green people searched through the wreckage with him. There were no minotaurs. Those hurt and hopefully healed people were somewhere else. Erick looked, and found them.
The minotaurs were at the Bend in the North River, meeting the people there who had managed to survive. There was tension. There were a few harsh words over how the minotaurs seemed like abominations. There would be trouble, later, but for now, there was calm.
Erick moved on.
He searched for Quilatalap at the Armory.
The whole bubbled structure was broken, while the characteristic blackness of the entire area was gone, replaced with the normal red-purple glows common to the Dead City. The central dome was completely sundered. Someone had looted the place. All Erick found inside were pedestals where the artifacts would sit, and many, many broken vault doors.
Down an empty hallway, not too far from the center, Erick found a wall that was open. There were no signs of a struggle in this place. Beyond that wall was a small house with a small garden out front. Inside, the furniture was sized for orcols. But all the drawers and cabinets and other storage places had been ransacked, just like the rest of the place. Erick did not find the archlich. A [Telepathy] sent out to the man returned nothing, but maybe he had gotten out of the Barrier some other way?
There might have been some open passageways way, way down, in the deepest parts of the Dead City. After all, the water had to come in from somewhere, right? … Though the water could have been recycled. Maybe.
Erick moved on.
He had never been to the Library before, but now he had. The Libary was a massive structure of a hundred floors and a dozen towers, in the upper Middle Reaches where the sun still reached, but not too strongly. Erick didn’t want to go inside. He did, however, pick up the bundle of books that sat outside the door, waiting for him.
There was a note.
I finished faster than expected! Go ahead and break the Barrier, if you want.
Till we meet again!~
-Fallopolis
JSYK: I stepped into the broken armory to see if I could find Quilatalap, or any missed artifacts, but all I found was his hidden home, already rifled through. I have no idea if Quilatalap is alive, but if I meet him, I’ll tell him you were worried over his fate! Gook luck with him!
JSYK 2: Watch out for unexpected artifacts popping up in the rest of the world. I managed to snag a few, but I did not get most of them. No idea where they all went.
“Ahh… Shit.”
Ah… No time to worry overmuch.
It was time to go. Erick couldn’t wait around any longer. Not with this [Death’s Approach] running out. He imagined that his 21 Mana Regen would likely become 2.1 Mana per second when this was all over. Maybe less. He had likely spent over 3 million mana since he had activated that Skill. Conservatively, according to the math, he had somewhere between 17-20 days before his Regen returned to normal.
… So he went to spend some more mana. He needed to get home. That Feast Barrier needed to come down. Erick first copied the books, and sent those copies to a few different locations inside the Dead City. Then he copied Jane’s laptop and did the same with that.
He stepped to the top of the north wall of Ar’Kendrithyst.
Black threads layered the world from left to right, reaching all the way down well past the ground and way up high, to the Edge of the Sky; the Edge of the Script. The last time Erick had spied the barrier it had been shot through with divine flames. That fire was gone. All that remained were the threads.
Erick cast a 20,000 point [Grand Dispel]. It might have been the equivalent of half a million mana.
The splash of shadows touched the darkness of the Feast Barrier, and broke a single thread.
“Ah.” Disgruntled, Erick said, “Okay then.”
He cast a 170,000 point [Grand Dispel]; Over 4 million mana worth of anti-magic magic.
Threads snapped like the breaking of an entire piano’s worth of strings. Erick rapidly stepped away. Threads broke in a chain reaction but not because of Erick’s [Grand Dispel] chaining onto another similar target, but because something intrinsic to the magic was now gone. More threads snapped in a cascading reaction. Time flexed.
Time resumed its normal, 1-second-equaled-1-second manner. The Feast Barrier snapped, then vanished like twisted spiderwebs blown away on the everpresent northern winds, taking its [Teleport]-blocking capabilities with it, ridding Erick of that particularly annoying full-body itch he just couldn’t scratch.
He looked out at the world, and felt a weight fall from his shoulders.
The dark sky beyond glittered with a billion stars. The moons were little more than dark spots blocking out the stars beyond. They were still new moons, after all. Tomorrow, they’d come back to the sky as tiny slivers, but for now, the only light above was from the stars.
And then there was Spur.
The city glowed to the north. A beacon of light in the dark. Erick smiled. From this angle, Spur was a lot closer to Ar’Kendrithyst than he would have liked. Maybe it was just his perspectives that had changed.
He joked to himself, “I am on top of the wall, instead of in Spur, after all. There’s at least one changed perspective for you.” And then he sent a message off to Poi, ‘Hello, Poi!’
‘SIR?!’
Erick immediately sent the man a 10,000 mana [Telepathy] overview of the events of the last four days, adding, ‘Take your time with that. I’ll talk more, but I have to remake the defenses around the house while I can. I imagine that things are going to get rather busy, rather fast.’
Poi’s response was a garbled, ‘Wha— ohgods.’
Erick stepped across the night sky, glowing like the brightest star in the heavens and traveling very, very fast, right onto the flat, orange land in front of his house. His garden smelled nice. His house wasn’t on fire, though someone had built a large bonfire in the next lot over.
… There were lots of bonfires, everywhere in the city. They were kinda nice. Erick suddenly wanted marshmallows, almost as much as he wanted to know what everyone was going to say when they found out the Clergy was gutted; reduced to 6 forced-to-repent Shades and 1 Culler.
Anywho!
Erick spent 174,000 of his own mana replacing the [Prismatic Ward] across his house. Sure, a [Ward Destruction] would be able to clear that off, but there was something nice about being able to sleep in a [Ward] worth something like 20 million points of defense.
Ah. Good thoughts!
… Which led to more good thoughts.
Erick cast to the left, stringing together all of his thoughts of defense alongside all of his recent experiences with Destruction, as he molded together one very complicated spell, with one trick. A spurt of shadows touched nothing. But a blue box appeared, anyway.
Ward Destruction, instant, long range, 100 Mana
Dispel a ward.
Ah. Good. That worked. Erick smiled.
And because experimenting was important, he cast the spell at the [Prismatic Ward] he had just cast.
The dense air popped, because of course it did. Heh. That was fine. Erick could layer that dense air with a few other anti-[Dispel] tricks he had seen in the last few hours. But that would happen tomorrow. Or maybe later than that. Erick recast the [Prismatic Ward], and enjoyed the moment.
He felt good.
He relaxed.
He slipped back into his mortal body and felt a rush of pent up emotions roil through his head and heart. He rode that wave, willing it to go down.
And then he looked at his hand. A fine mist of white light flickered like candle flames across his skin. That brought him back to the moment more than willpower could ever do. He realized he better get indoors before his various spells failed. He went to touch the handle—
Jane slammed open the door. “DAD?!” She looked him up and down. “What the FUCK did you DO?!”
“Something very dangerous, though I told Poi most of it, but hey!” He briefly turned into light and slipped into the house, bypassing Jane, simultaneously setting Jane’s computer down on the counter next to the door. “Found your laptop! Poi probably needs to go over it for memetic hazards while everyone else needs to prepare for my collapse.” He turned physical again. His skin flickered with dying candlelight.
Poi rushed around the corner of the hallway, saying, “Don’t touch that laptop!”
Jane barely glanced toward Poi before saying, “It’s really you!” as she rushed him with arms wide open—
She stepped through his body, splashing light into the air. “What?” She turned.
Erick was gone.
Jane screamed into the air of the foyer, “DAD?!”
Erick came back to himself. “Huh. Odd.” His body still glowed as though rimmed in white fire, but... “I thought I canceled the [Lightwal—”
[Death’s Approach] was over. Erick caught sight of Phagar, to his left, just as the magic faded. Phagar waved, and then vanished.
Erick’s eyes rolled up into his head.
He would have fallen to the ground if not for Jane. She grabbed him, able to hold his physical body this time, as she cursed and prayed for his safety. Kiri rushed down the staircase, but stopped before she reached Jane. Justine held back, remaining at the top of the staircase. Teressa rushed into the room, carrying the rod of [Greater Treat Wounds] while Poi frantically sent out a dozen different telepathic messages at once.
Poi was also still decoding the message Erick had sent him. 10,000 mana had translated into a quarter million mana message, after all.
Ten, 174,000 point Ophiels descended on the house, some roosting on the towers, some turning tiny as they took their places on windowsills, setting up point defenses, while a few followed inside to watch Jane and the rest worry over Erick. They chirped in fun little violin sounds as everyone else panicked.
- - - -