Teressa watched, transfixed, as she saw the attack slice into Erick’s soul. There were too many spears for that small of a soul. Too many points of attack. Like sticking a thousand swords through a deer, the space where the meat had once been was now more steel than flesh. They caused no bleeding, but they separated the soul from the body and—
Ah. Shit. That’s a lot of blood.
- - - -
Jane hovered in the light above the beast on the beach, and tried to confirm the kill with a few more [Fireball]s, aimed at center-mass. The final part of the Tangled Hydra was dying. But ‘mostly dead’ was not ‘actually dead’. The final hydra hung on to life with a fervor that Jane rarely saw.
The monster was basically a husk of burned flesh at this point. Give up the ghost already!
The pestilent creature had been three kilometers of tangled snake-like creatures. Each one could live fine on their own, but when you got multiples together, their flesh melded into each other, and they could share nutrients and brain power. If you didn’t separate the individual hydras and kill them individually, they grew right back. It was like a wyrm, but without the spells, and with a lot more body mass. Killing a Tangled Hydra was not an easy task, and Jane was—
Jane felt an odd coldness in the light around her lightform.
Terror gripped her mind; sudden and deep.
But she was fine? She was fine. Why was—
Jane slipped away from the battlefield, and dropped onto the land. With eight eyes and her Queen Blood Weaver form glinting in the sun, she looked around herself. Her eyes were drawn to her own shadow, which she inspected with her light. She looked to the dune grass nearby, searching for the source of her distress.
The coldness in her soul only deepened.
Something was wrong.
- - - -
Poi watched as Erick died.
At that same moment, Poi was already in the process of bringing him back.
Contacting Ascendant Prime took but a moment. Arguments for and against took even less time, for it was already the judgment of the Ascendants that Erick was a valued resource that would be protected, if possible. Soul strikes were difficult to defend against, which was one of the reasons that Poi feared those kinds of attacks more than most, but Ascendant Prime was above those petty concerns, especially when a World War was inevitable if they did nothing.
Or maybe they only agreed to help because Poi would have killed himself to help Erick on his own, using half-realized knowledge that was not truly his own. Erick wasn’t dead, yet.
Erick already knew how to defend against Soul Magic, though, and he was struggling, but the spears were still there, and without their removal...
- - - -
The words of Quilatalap came to Erick, unbidden.
“No.”
It was simple instruction, to survive the most deadly of attacks. To survive all Soul Magic, and to survive the worst Mind Magics. It fared less well against Blood Magic, but with a strong enough soul and enough time away from the source of the damaging Blood Magic, then one could enact a healing, and survive that Blood Magic… If you knew how.
“No.”
The spear had not struck Erick. And yet, it ha—
“No.”
The spear moved through the world, lancing through his heart and his he—
“No. The spear did nothing. I am whole.”
Erick was in Quilatalap’s cottage, back in Shadow’s Feast.
Quilatalap continued with his lecture, saying, “You must learn how to do this ‘no’ outside of the shortcuts of the Script. It must become second nature, like a quiet voice in your head. It must become a skill that won’t necessitate the use of a Universal Second of the Script.”
“…That’s going to be such a pain in the ass,” Erick said.
Quilatalap laughed loudly. “Yes. It is! At first. And then it is not. It’s only truly useful against the most harmful Soul and Mind magics. Like the one you’re experiencing right now.”
“Ah.” Erick looked out the window, and saw the coruscating prismatic spell of Queen, devouring the world. He realized. “Oh. This isn’t real. Am I dreaming?”
Quilatalap said, “It’s only mana. It’s not solid. Subjective Reality is not true reality. All you have to do is deny it, as you’ve been taught. You’ve done some great mind tricks lately, so show me another one.”
- - - -
Teressa despaired.
She watched as her boss— as Erick was sundered by a thousand phantom spears, striking through him from every direction, holding him aloft in the center of the room. Teressa witnessed the death of possibility. As she had seen before, and as she had never wanted to see happen to the people she knew, a soul had been ripped out of Erick’s body and scattered to the winds, flowing away through dense air like so much scattered foam. And yet, it didn’t vanish. It remained, when it should not, but it also remained speared through by vile soul spells.
The soul attack probably wouldn’t matter, though. The effects of that attack, did.
Blood poured out of flesh that was whole, as though the spears had been real. Maybe they had been made real, simply by the act of touching a soul. There was damage to the ceiling and floor, and as Teressa watched, flesh split open around phantom spears.
He was going to die.
And she had never told him how much she appreciated him. She might have thanked him once, but she should have done so more often. Oh, gods. What was she going to tell Jane? What was going to happen to Candlepoint? Or to Spur?
Would Treehome do any—
Her people would go to war to avenge him.
And she would be right there with them.
Teressa angered.
Red rimmed her eyes.
Yes. It was to be war, then. Terror Peaks would die. Her people would gather like the great Horde it had been once, so long ago. They would descend upon Terror Peaks like the wrath of a god.
And even if the whole of her people didn’t go…
Teressa and Kiri and Jane could raise an army. That would work.
- - - -
Jane stood upon dune grasses, in the sun.
But the shadows around her were brighter and darker than daylight. They were abysses in the world, rimmed with power.
The Darkness was here.
Melemizargo whispered, “Terror Peaks is killing your father. What will you do?”
- - - -
Yggdrasil felt a shift.
A branch vanished. Light broke in half, and suddenly, he was half as much as he had been. His body in Spur’s Lake was gone; speared through by a thousand attacks from the inside. His body under Candlepoint’s lake broke under even more, but that body was larger; much larger. Water rushed into the space left behind. Shadows swirled in the depths as a thousand phantom spears rocked out of dimming roots, and trunk, and branches, and leaves. That which did not instantly break, was shredded.
A tiny, silver-spiked shield held over the heartwood of the first tree. The few spears that made it that deep, deflected, shredding the rest of his body in the aftermath.
Yggdrasil screamed in pain and anger, boiling the water nearby.
What had hurt him!
What had hurt—
Oh no.
- - - -
Ophiel had been struck harder than ever before.
Four of him died instantly. Three died in the next second. Two of him twisted [Animadversion] and deflected hundreds of spears, but could not deflect the rest. The soul attack went through him, and speared the bodies of every single part of his growing soul.
The last Ophiel turned tiny. [Animadversion] covered all of him. Spears deflected into the surrounding sky like [Force Beam]s, each of them carving away at the cultured trees and decorative rock piles and scattered fountains and ponds of the Alluvial District.
Ophiel had never felt smaller, or more vulnerable. Terror crawled into his developing soul, and he raced to the only place that felt safe. He went to Erick.
He found Erick
He knew he had not been the focus of the attack.
More terror.
He was supposed to protect his creator! He had failed!
—But it was just a bit of blood. Maybe? Yes!
[Greater Treat Wounds]. There. Now he won’t die.
It didn’t work?
… Why isn’t it working?
Ophiel cast again, and again, and again. He added in [Regeneration]. He went back to [Greater Treat Wounds]. He tried [Healing Word]. Flesh knit. Bones healed. And then they broke all over again.
Why wasn't the healing working?
- - - -
Erick sat on a park bench that faced another park bench. A concrete table was between the seats. A chess board had been built into the table. Erick was playing white, and he was down to three pieces. A king, a pawn, and a castle, though the castle looked more like a broken tower than anything sturdy.
The other Erick was playing red, and every piece Erick lost, the other gained.
Erick blinked, clearing his eyes, taking in the scene around him.
Ah. So it was like that.
Erick sighed out, “Hello, Phagar.”
“Hello, Erick,” Phagar said, smiling with Erick’s own smile. In a conversational tone, he asked, “Are you ready to move on?”
Shock.
Panic.
Erick answered instinctively, “No.”
And then a moment passed.
A time of consideration.
He could put down all his burdens.
But...
Erick repeated, softer, and yet firmer, “No.”
“You listened well to Quilatalap, but we’re beyond that specific moment in time. Are you sure you want to stay? This is a small part of what is in store for you if you do.” Phagar moved one of his red pawns onto Erick’s side of the board. It turned white. “I hoped to save you some pain, but if you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.”
Erick’s chest and head vibrated with fractures and lancing, white-hot agony, but only for a second. And then the pain was gone. He breathed again, as though he hadn’t breathed in an age, sucking in air like there was nothing else he needed more. The shock of it all took a moment to retreat, and for his mind to come back together.
Erick said, “My answer is still no; I’m choosing to stay.”
Phagar said, “It’s only going to get worse.”
Erick looked at the chess board in front of him.
He made a decision.
With a quick hand, he grabbed a handful of other pieces and jabbed them onto his side of the board.
“Ha?” Then Phagar laughed for real, as if he had seen something truly unexpected. He smiled. “That’s not how any of this works, but I’ll allow it.”
Phagar stood up, the red half of the chess army began to vanish from the board, except for the five pieces Erick had captured. One by one, they began to transform from red to white. A schoolhouse, a knight, a bishop, a distant queen, and another castle to replace his crumbling one.
Erick voiced, “A schoolhouse? And what’s a ‘distant’ que—”
Pain.
- - - -
Poi watched as one by one, Ascendant Prime twisted the Crossing, forming grips that removed the spears from Erick’s body, as though deleting phantoms from existence. Ophiel danced on the body, healing it with spells that barely worked, for the damage was more than flesh-deep. But ‘barely’ was better than ‘not at all’. A man could live through a soul attack, but not if the attack never ended, and if the body died in the meantime. Erick should already be dead, but he was not.
Maybe his Constitution saved him. Maybe his training. Maybe all of that only prolonged his suffering.
Poi didn’t know how Erick survived, but he wouldn’t survive for much longer.
All Poi could do was watch.
The spears in Erick’s head vanished first. And then the spears through his heart. With the twisting power of a half-step deity, Ascendant Prime removed the rest of the spears, making them as though they never were. But the damage remained. The body healed, mostly, thanks to Ophiel, but the soul was shredded, pierced, and broken.
It was the same problem Rats had, but on an exponentially larger scale.
Ascendant Prime sent, ‘This is all we can do. The rest is up to him. He’s still in there. He might come back. For all of our futures, we pray that he does.’
Ascendant Prime left. The weave of the Crossing relaxed as Prime’s power receded, once again becoming a web of connected thoughts high in the sky, beyond the reach of most people.
Poi could do nothing but watch.
He hated being this powerless.
He vowed he would not be this powerless, ever again. If Erick lived…
If he lived…
Soul Magic was a good magic to learn. Powerful, anyway.
Poi considered his problems of being scared and wary over Soul Magic, and decided that watching, impotent, was worse than issues of fear, and morality. He could use Soul Magic to heal, after all.
- - - -
Red-eyed and on the precipice of Rage, waiting for Erick to die so that she could KILL THEM ALL, Teressa watched as a miracle occurred. Poi had something to do with it, but also not. The phantom spears vanished from Erick, one by one, and quickly. The [Greater Treat Wounds] that Erick had unlocked earlier in the day was used by Ophiel to heal Erick’s own physical damage. He still floated in the center of the room, for Ophiel supported him, keeping his body together...
But the soul…
The scattered, tattered soul, white and dim and stretched across the whole of the room, flowed together, like a blanket mending itself. Or. No. It was the rejection of damage. The soul was rejecting its fate. Erick was literally pulling himself back together.
Not fast enough, though.
Wounds reappeared. Ophiel healed them away.
But Ophiel was losing power, and they had never replaced the rod of [Greater Treat Wounds] after Erick had killed it with his Discord. And yet, there was hope. Barely five minutes had passed since the spears had appeared in Erick, and Clan Star Song was coming to help; or at least one person was.
Hopefully.
Teressa wiped the tears from her eyes, and said, “They’re coming.”
Tendrils of thought swirled around Poi. He looked around. “They are. We are protecting Erick. He can’t be moved. [Prismatic Ward] is helping him as much as he’s helping himself.”
Teressa nodded. She summoned her full defensive gear, just in case what she saw was a trick.
Everyone had seen how ‘Odin’ had exploded in [Force Beams]. They had seen the bomb before Erick had removed it. They saw the damage that the bomb had done. They knew the enemy. A few had thought Erick was attacking them, but that was quickly shouted down by Elders with calmer heads, who were in the know.
The time for subterfuge was over. Everyone knew that Erick was Erick.
And Elder Arilitilo was running up the stairs of the Southern House, holding a spot of anti-magic in her grip, like a thin knife. Was she a savior, or would Teressa murder her before she could do damage? Teressa still had her little [Sanguine Charm]. The Blood Mage was in for a shock if she tried shit.
And yet, any second now some main attack would happen. Teressa felt giddy with burgeoning Rage.
Just give her a target. Any target. Someone was going to die.
Clansmen gathered in clumps on the courtyards and staging areas of the mountain, prepared for the main forces of Terror Peak.
And then war broke loose.
Another portal opened up a kilometer to the left of where the previous one had appeared, but Eralis was watching for it, this time. Everyone seemed to know that they were under direct attack at the moment. Terror Peaks wished to press the advantage.
The second and the third bombs met the fate of the first. Or maybe something else happened. All Teressa knew was that there was a lot of sudden shit happening outside, and bombs were being windstepped far away, before they exploded.
They weren’t fast enough for all of the bombs, though.
On the other side of three intervening clan mountains, a green explosion washed across the world, Decaying everyone in sight and poisoning the land with Extreme Light. Defenses fell across the Noble District in the next second. The barest bit struck Clan Star Song, striking the Southern House full-on.
Teressa was already in the way, between Erick and the window, holding out her tower shield in front of her. Windows cracked. Half of the dense air in the room vanished under green light. The [Prismatic Ward] remained around Erick, but everywhere else it was in tatters.
Down below, the rest of the Southern House had been abandoned; Devouring Nightmare was elsewhere. They had left pretty damn fast after the first bomb had failed to detonate. Teressa was glad they were gone; less variables to think about.
Elder Ari had made it past the empty second and third floor to reach the fourth, when the explosion hit. Extreme Light ripped through the doors and windows down below, right underneath Elder Ari. She didn’t care. She yelled as she reached their rooms, “Let me help!”
Poi was already opening the door for her.
She held an antirhine knife in her hand.
Teressa glared at Poi, but before she could Rage at letting the Blood Mage clanswoman in the room, she understood why the antirhine knife was necessary. The room still held [Prismatic Ward], and the Blood Mage had not been given permissions. Elder Arilitilo rushed into the dense air, knife leading the way, slashing and cutting a path through magic that she could not get through otherwise.
Ari paused, barely, her deep violet skin paling a fraction as she saw Erick, hovering in the center of the room, still supported by Ophiel. And then she rushed forward, slashing away the intervening Solid Ward.
Ophiel sang in tired flutes upon seeing Ari, and then he gave the last of himself to cast one more [Greater Treat Wounds] upon Erick, his body breaking up after the spell took hold.
Teressa whispered, “Good [Familiar].”
Ari reached Erick and laid a hand upon his chest, and his head. Red light filled the room, latching on to every piece of Erick’s soul, helping it to come together, faster, and faster.
“The spears are gone. But…” Ari grimaced. “This is going to be difficult.”
- - - -
His world was agony.
White hot and cold as tundra, sparking and dying all at once. He felt the world outside of his own body.
He denied the End, and that helped.
He divorced himself from that fate, and that helped, too.
His mind swirled with variations on a theme. Of meditative techniques and ways to ignore the pain. Of ethyl ether and other ways to mechanically separate pain from being received. It didn’t help. That was the wrong method.
He got back on track, saying that the pain didn’t exist, and that he was not under attack, and that his soul was perfectly fine, and that the terror that gripped him wasn’t real.
A red light tried to help him, but he denied that too.
The red light was rather persistent, though. What was that damned red light doing out there, anyway? Where did it come from? Ah! Oh. Well, whatever. It was useful, no matter where it came from. It was a distraction. He needed that.
The pain was still there; it wasn’t going anywhere. But the red light was a nice diversion. A space to focus on that was not his agony-filled existence. He still denied the pain, of course.
There is no pain.
Now what the fuck is that red light doing.
Oh. It’s just moving around. And… It’s…
The world around Erick became more than pain, as the red light moved between scattered white clouds. Erick hadn’t noticed the clouds before. But they weren’t clouds, either. They were… something else.
The red light glowed bright and hateful.
Well fuck you, too.
Erick reached out to bat away the red light, but he touched a cloud, and suddenly he was more. He saw more clearly. He recognized… Something. Oh. All those clouds were soulstuff. It floated around him, broken and scattered. Kinda pretty to look at.
The red light rushed behind a particularly large cloud, illuminating the cloud from behind in a red rim. Oh. Now that was really pretty.
… Hmm. Erick felt an odd…
Need?
Did he need to touch that other cloud?
Well... Sure. Why not?
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
Erick grabbed the larger cloud, and he became more.
Oh. Now he saw.
The red light was Ari. The clouds were him. They were memories, and more. Erick needed to grab them all! But they were all so far away. Some looked to be vanishing altogether in the distance.
But that cloud right there is close. Erick reached—
[Call Lightning]. That was the cloud he had touched, and reabsorbed into himself. It was glorious, and now, Erick saw something new. [Call Lightning] had connections to everything else, for each cloud was not just a cloud, it was also a part of a web. Erick reached for one of the webs from [Call Lightning] and followed it to another cloud. Oh. This was easy. Erick reabsorbed [Lightning Aura]. [Exalted Rain] was next. From [Exalted Rain], he reached for [Grow].
[Grow] led to another massive cloud; a spanning power filled with light and roots and branches that Erick had not yet recognized until that moment.
Erick met Yggdrasil in his soul, and was once again joined to his largest [Familiar]. Yggdrasil exulted in recognition, and then he did what he did best; he grew. Roots spread from cloud to cloud, showing pathways that Erick didn’t recognize as pathways until Yggdrasil had revealed them.
Erick pulled inward from a dozen directions at once.
Ophiel!
Ophiel sang in vibrations that filled this odd place, and Erick remembered. Vibrations touched upon the world, and revealed even more pathways that had not been there before then.
With quick wings and vast eyesight, and roots ever-spanning, Erick re-captured the separate pieces of himself. He remembered Jane! If he wasn’t in so much pain he c—
No pain. Only healing.
Erick remembered Earth, and everything back home, and then his memories flooded with his time on Veird.
With the help of distant red light, he found memories that otherwise would have drifted away; too disconnected to be found otherwise.
He recognized that every piece of his soul was imbued with a bit of the whole, and as more came together, he saw that Constitution kept edges from fraying, Intelligence kept linkages intact, Perception revealed distant pieces, and Dexterity gave him the ability to retrieve it all. Strength and Vitality kept his body intact, but Willpower and Focus were not what they appeared to be.
There was a hole in his soul that led to somewhere else, where mana flowed like water, and reality became subjective Reality, allowing the soul to exist, at all. Willpower defined the edge of that hole. Focus defined the rate at which mana flowed.
The hole wasn’t truly a hole at all. And yet, it was.
As more and more of his soul coalesced, more and more of his sight dimmed, as though he was waking up from a dream.
The hole in his soul was lost in that half-waking, and Erick doubted he would ever find it again. It certainly hadn’t been there in [Soul Sight]. But he knew what lay on the other side, anyway.
It was the Script.
Erick tore his attention away from the entrance to Veird’s manaminer, and allowed himself to wake.
- - - -
Erick opened his eyes.
Agony.
And yet, that wasn’t the most concerning part of current events.
The room was on fire. Someone struck someone else nearby. Blood flew.
Teressa yelled at the enemy, “Come on, fuckers! I’ll kill y—”
Poi yelled, “He’s awake! We’re escaping!”
Hands and a sapphire mind touched Erick, and Erick could do nothing but assent. Sapphire light surrounded him, once, twice, thrice, each time the sky reappeared with a different cloud formation beyond. And then finally, Erick flopped, boneless, to the grassy ground, shutting his eyes tight to hide from the waves of pain overtaking his body. People moved around him. He couldn’t see for shit. He almost tried his mana sense, but that seemed like a bad idea. And besides—
Poi said, “We’re safe! Heal him more!”
Teressa grunted, and something heavy slammed to the ground outside of sight.
Elder Ari poked with healing hands, saying, “Heart and brain looks good. Nerves are shot to shit but that can heal over time. He’s in no shape to fight. Soul is heavily damaged, but he healed through the attack. It’s so much easier to heal unnatural soul damage—” She stopped talking, and breathed out. She said, “Gods.” She tapped his cheek. “Wake up, Erick. Open your eyes. Can you see?”
Erick opened his eyes. With his right eye he saw blood. The left eye saw nothing.
“Ah. Shit.” Ari cast a [Cleanse], removing that blood, then she tapped him with controlled healing magics, focusing on his left eye. “Dammit. Let’s try...”
Erick blinked, and his full biological vision returned. The sky was bright blue, and half cloudy. Warm air flowed from the north, dancing through the grasses all around, playing with Erick’s hair and touching his skin, eliciting both a comfortable warmth, and a chain reaction of needles jabbing all the way through his exposed face and forearms. He winced, and that brought about more pain.
Okay.
The pain was back, in full force.
“Shh shh.” Ari said, “Calm down. You’re going to be in pain for a while, but it’s just soul pain, and we can work on that. We’re safe, for now. Can you speak?”
He tried. His throat didn’t move how he needed it to move. He barely breathed.
Ari said, “Now that you’re awake, we can proceed with the rest of your healing. I’m actually a Soul Mage, but don’t go telling people. That’s a closely guarded secret of Star Song. I need your active participation in order to heal the rest of the damage done to you. Can you give me your active consent?”
Poi moved into frame, to stand over Erick. “She helped you this far. I suggest you give consent, or else we might not make it the rest of the day.”
Erick turned his eyes toward Poi, wordlessly telling him—
Poi said to Ari, “Do it.”
Ari got to work, saying, “The nerves of the skin are perhaps the most distracting, so we’ll concentrate [Soul Restoration] in your skin, first.”
With red hands, Ari touched his skin, and Erick felt a question weigh him down. It was a wordless inquiry, made all the more profound for its lack of nuance, and for the vastness of what his answer would mean. Ari was asking to be let in.
Erick formed the words with his lips and his breath, but nothing came out as he tried to say, “Yes.”
That was good enough. Red light flooded his eyes and his soul, and the knives in his skin slowly vanished. Ari’s breath hitched. One minute passed, and then another. Erick watched as sweat dripped down Ari’s forehead. He felt as her hands tensed on the skin over his chest, and over his shoulder.
Suddenly, the pain vanished.
It was like taking a bath after mowing the lawn on a hot summer day; Erick just wanted a nap.
He relaxed—
“Stay with me, Erick.” Ari said, “No sleeping. That’s a bad thing right now. I need active consent, all the time. Keep it up.”
He grogged out, “Okaaghy.”
Ari smiled, saying, “And now we can work on your nausea before it gets here. That’s always the second part. Can’t have you vomiting in the middle of treatment.” She mumbled, “Patients never realize the nausea until it's upon them.”
Erick felt his stomach settle. Ari had been right. He didn’t realize he was about to puke until all the other pain went away. He almost chuckled at the oddity of the situation, and the seriousness of it all.
“And now for the difficult part.” Ari said, “Enabling the soul to heal in three minutes what normally takes three months. I’ve done this many times before, for many people the world over. To do this part, I need you to talk. About anything at all. How about your daughter? Or Particle Magic. Or Earth? We’ll switch topics as you heal. I’ll tell you when to switch. And don’t worry about saying weird stuff. You’re going to be saying weird stuff, and I’ve already heard it all. I promise to never transmit any secret you say. Do you want to do this?”
Erick felt the wind, and saw Ari was telling the truth. He said, “Yes.”
Ari nodded, then said, “Here we go.”
Erick’s mind veered way into left field. He said, “The Periodic Table of the Elements begins with Hydrogen, which has one proton and…”
Ari told him to switch after Calcium.
“Jane’s mother was a flawed woman, just as flawed as her father, but I got Jane, and so I forgave Jane’s Mother a long time ago. But Jane has never forgiven her mother. Being abandoned by her other parent made her angry. I tried my best, but anger has always been Jane’s driving force. Anger wasn’t too useful back on Earth, but here? Anger is necessary. I suppose anger was necessary back on Earth, too, but back there you couldn’t give in to the anger like you can here. Anger lets you know when you’re being harmed, and that is an important instinct to hone.
“Jane’s been honing that instinct for a long time.”
“Switch.”
“Gravity is a function of space-time slowing things down and thus drawing them toward the center of the mass of an object. Space and Time are not separate entities. They are the same, and the name for this is spacetime. Phagar is so much more powerful than other gods, by virtue of having control over time. By this Domain, Phagar has control over space, too. This means a lot of stuff I don’t understand. To compound this problem, we have Melemizargo, who also controls time and therefore also controls space. How do the gods actually work? I’m not too sure how Rozeta gained a divine spark, or whatever you want to call it, since her father never gave up the role of God of Magic. I bet she got it from all the other gods sacrificing parts of themselves in order to keep Veird intact under the Primal Lightning of the Sundering. They sacrificed a lot to get this place through the Yawning Void and into my universe; this universe. But what is a god? Is there some intrinsic divine spark that...”
Ari’s eyes were wide. Eventually, she called for another switch.
Erick spoke of a dozen topics that mattered. From seeing the hole in his soul that led to the Script, to seeing the resonances between spells, to the creation myth of the Old Cosmology. He did not speak of Wizardry, except to wonder what it actually was. And then he spoke of Silverite, and Spur, and how happy he was that Teressa was healing from her own tragedy, and how he didn’t help Rats because he didn’t even know there was a problem until after the fact. Partway through the healing, Ari repeated her swear to secrecy; likely because Poi and Teressa were staring at her.
Erick didn’t care, though. Ari seemed like good people, and he wanted to share some of the burden of what he knew about the world, and what he suspected about how it worked.
Erick had enemies, for sure, but those enemies were not Ari or Clan Star Song.
Erick spoke of how Terror Peaks had used an open dialogue to espouse caustic ideas that went against the very nature of open and honest discourse. He elaborated on shutting down the lies, after he looked to be winning his argument with Shendeng, but then they sacrificed that woman— They had that woman sacrifice herself in order to paint Erick as the Evil Wizard. Her death had been a ploy to gain a reason for war, and for a reason to kill him. To do this to him, and to harm even more people in their terrorist campaign.
When he had gotten through most of his anger, and the time came for Ari to tell him to switch, instead, Ari said, “Terror Peaks does this. They have gone decades since the last war, and though the specific reasons have changed, this is how it started back then, too; a cause for war that any sane person could see was a lie.” She glared at nothing in particular, then said, “Switch.”
Erick spoke of vegetables he grew in his garden, back home.
It took an hour, but eventually Ari took her hands off of Erick and leaned back, drenched in sweat.
She declared, “Healed!”
Teressa said, “Mostly.”
“It’s the best I can do. The rest has to heal naturally.” Ari cast a [Cleanse], ridding herself of normal sweat, and Erick of sweat that was more bloody than it should have been. “Cast something, Erick. Turn on a mana sense. And reestablish whatever protocols you had going to negate soul damage. You’re going to be weak to soul attacks for a while, but if Hangzi can heal himself in a single night, then you can, too.”
Erick laid there for a moment, then blinked on his mana sense.
… His range had gone down. He was at about 25 meters through the clear air, and 20 through the dirt below. It had taken him months to train himself up to 70— Ah. He focused. And he relaxed. His range expanded out with each breath. And then the expansion slowed. 30 meters. It might take a week to get back up to range. Maybe a month. Why did his range go down?
He sat up—
He couldn’t sit up.
Ari noticed, and with a wave of her hand, Erick felt a pressure on his back; Ari’s spellwork. Ari’s assistance allowed him to move, but he was weakened. She said, “Your soul is unsettled, but it will settle soon enough. You gotta get up and move around. Help your soul recognize your body. Can you move?”
Erick lifted his arm, and felt as though he was lifting a thousand kilos. He struggled to sit up, and he managed it after a minute of trying.
Ari focused on him. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“Like shit.”
Rage came on like a growing headache. Rage at Terror Peaks. Rage at his own weakness. Rage at being laid low when he tried to do good. As that rage filtered through his muscles, he felt a connection relink. He breathed out, and in, full and deep. His heart pumped hard, and his hands became fists. He checked his Status.
Everything looked fine.
His Mana and Health were low, but they were climbing. He had more than enough resources to cast a few spells. First, he summoned an Ophiel, for the little guy wasn’t nearby. Did they leave him behind?
Ophiel appeared in a bright flash of white light, already crying out in painful flute sounds. The three-meter wide [Familiar] of wings and eyes instantly focused on Erick, and swamped him with those wings. Erick vanished under a pile of happy flute sounds and white feathers.
“Okay, okay,” Erick said, happier than he was before. “You’re too big.”
Ophiel instantly became small; lapcat-sized. Erick hugged him. He was much easier to hug this way. While he did that, he summoned the other nine.
Teressa said, “Ophiel did good, healing you while you were down. I think he’s learning.”
Ophiel tweeted in bright violin sounds, confirming Teressa’s story.
Erick felt a surge of pride as he said, “Oh!! Who’s a good boy! You are! You are!”
Ophiel responded with happier sounds.
“Good boy,” Erick said, still hugging one Ophiel, while all ten of them tried to hug him. “Good boy.” He had nine of them move away, as he turned to his people. “Thank you, Poi. Thank you, Teressa. I saw some of the fighting around me, but… Not at all, really.”
Teressa waved him off, saying, “I’m just…” She said, “I’m glad you’re okay. Now I don’t have to Rage on anyone.”
Ari whipped her head around to face the towering orcol in the group, looking worried, briefly, and then she discarded that unguarded emotion.
Poi said, “It’s a miracle you’re alive. I’m glad you’re alive.”
“I am too, Poi.” Erick said, “Seriously, thank you all for pulling my ass out of the fire.” He flicked on [Greater Lightwalk]. The air around him became luminescent, and then deepened to sunlight bright, as [Lodestar] took hold around him. He stood up under his own power, but it was difficult. After he finally managed to get fully upright, he turned to Ari, saying, “Thank you for the healing. I didn’t know you were a Soul Mage.”
“Thanks are unnecessary.” And then Ari raced ahead, saying, “But if you wish to assist in the defense of Songli, the battle is happening right now. Caution, though: That soul spear, or whatever it was, was specifically made to kill you, and everything attached to you. If it weren’t for the solidity of Yggdrasil, I doubt you would still be alive. In fact, I believe you are a weak point for that future World Tree.” She looked to Ophiel, sadly adding, “And Ophiel is a weak point for all of you, unless you take certain precautions.”
Ophiel twittered in unhappy, yet understanding flutes. All of them became smaller, then conjured their own [Animadversion]s. Each silver shield was three times the size of each Ophiel.
Oh? Was that how one of them survived the soul spear?
It must have been.
Ari looked at the transformed [Familiar]s, and said, “That should work.” She turned back to Erick, saying, “But you will not survive another one of those soul spears. Please take care, but please help save Eralis.”
“I will.” As Erick had his Ophiel empower themselves with their usual layers of spellwork, he asked, “How common are weapons like that spear?”
“They’re legendary weapons. I don’t know how to make them. I don’t know how Terror Peaks got their hands on those, either. It has to be some sort of [Soul Burn] linked to [Scry] along with a host of other spellworks, and then multiplied by the materials of the item and—” Ari collected herself. She was beyond stressed, and barely keeping it together. Erick was, too, but he had the capability to find and end the source of his stressors; it was the only reason he wasn’t screaming out obscenities at the moment. Ari was counting on him to end her stressors, too, but she was still worried that Erick wouldn’t actually pull that final trigger. Ari continued, softer, “Terror Peaks prepares for war. I have no doubt they have at least three more, and since they never got experience for killing you, they know you lived.”
“I’m done talking to them, Ari.” Erick said, “This war ends today. Please inform whoever you need to inform: I’m joining the defense, right now. We’re not letting those madmen slaughter Eralis.”
Ari stood straighter. She nodded, saying, “Then I will take my leave, archmage.”
She blipped away in a flash of red light.
Erick turned to his people. “Where is my daughter?”
“She was here, and then she left.” Teressa said, “You were out for that part.”
Poi said, “She’s currently locked in combat in the Noble District.”
Teressa rapidly added, “We tried to stop her—”
At that, Erick had to laugh. It was a good joke!
“Thanks; I needed that.” Erick sighed out, then happily said, “I could never stop her either. Thanks for trying, though.”
- - - -
Ophiel lightstepped back into battle, entering the skies above the mountains of Eralis’s nobility. Yesterday, from this angle, the Alluvial District would have looked like forested mountains with sparse housing. But those illusions had been broken. The truth of the land stood revealed.
The sight reminded Erick of when Bulgan let those ballooning spiders into Candlepoint, and then he unleashed those summoned guardians upon the populace, multiplying the problem. Here in the Alluvial District, people fought back, and while that was good for the people, it made the destruction worse.
Fires, everywhere, and in every color imaginable. Broken houses. Shattered roads. Mountain slides, revealing the interior of clan mansions. Students in grey robes fighting and losing against men and women in red armor. Red armor soldiers were everywhere. People in white pushing back the red. Blood and gore on the enchanted white road, which had lost its sheen and become grey.
And varied spells exploded, or burned, or froze, or Decayed, everywhere, constantly.
Domains, of every kind, wrapped mountains like defensive blankets, but some mountains had no defense. Those broken locations were where fighting was heaviest, where clansmen in white fought back against enemy clansmen in red. Swords clashed with shields clashed with spears and chains and more. Erick saw more of Eralis’s capabilities in that one moment than he had in all his previous time in this land.
He saw much of Terror Peaks’ capabilities, too; organization, coordination, complete control of the battlefield, and the fervor to win and fight to the last warrior standing, even if it looked hopeless. Their spellwork was more controlled; regimented, even. [Fireball]s cast by a dozen people at once. Hard front lines that did not fall. Movement, as though they knew this place like they lived here. There were also illusions, but they were used sparingly.
Both sides used illusions to attack and to defend, but Erick could see through those feints and fakes, for every Ophiel ran [True Sight]. Despite their brave showing, and illusions to fake attacks and defense and to split up the enemies, Eralis was in retreat, for they fought as individual clans, defending their individual mountains, while Terror Peaks fought as a war machine.
Erick glanced over to the main city, and saw explosions and spellwork happening near the Void Temple.
And over in Redflood across the Wanzhi Delta.
And everywhere, here and there.
The Void Song was down; the Void Wall was broken. The eastern Void Gate; that massive arch of white stone that stretched into the sky, lay in pieces upon the waters of the river below.
Erick pulled back from individual horrors, and understood the whole of what he was seeing.
The lines of Terror Peaks’ offensive were sweeping through the Alluvial District, focusing on open areas, while assassins, probably, snuck into Domain-defended areas and found the caster, and then killed them. Bringing down the now-defenseless Domain was as easy as pressing another Domain against it, cracking the mountain’s main defense and tearing it down.
In the main city, the Songstresses were occupied with defense, or maybe they were already dead.
There were surely a lot of assassins out there right now.
Erick couldn’t deal with the assassins, but he could deal with the main offense.
He spared a brief thought to the fact that these soldiers had all been raised in ‘tanks’; indoctrinated since birth to be zealots and worse. They likely all believed that Eralis had fallen to Darkness, and since the Darkness was weak right now, it should be purged. It didn’t matter that the Shades had been Blessed into becoming better people, and that the truth of that had been confirmed by Koyabez. Erick doubted he was the only one to hear that particular revelation. That was probably why Koyabez had been included in Patriarch Xangu’s proclamation.
All that Terror Peaks saw was that the enemies of the world were in the middle of another plot to take over and corrupt the world; a plot that would succeed if Terror Peaks didn’t end them while they could.
… Ah.
Erick almost talked himself out of what had to be done.
Targeting was easy; just hit the guys in red. There were few variations of that theme, for there were illusions down there, but those illusions didn’t matter to Erick.
Ophiels moved across the sky, nearly invisible but also as tiny as [Scry] eyes. Maybe that’s why no one attacked them, as each one got into position above different enemy clumps. By then, it was too late for the red warriors below.
[Luminous Beam]’s text had changed a little, since Particle Magic became a part of the Script.
Luminous Beam X, instant, super long range, 500 mana
Conjure a coruscating, tightly controlled plume of severing light that deals extraordinarily massive physical damage and lasts for 5 seconds. Anti-magic properties. Anti-life properties.
Particle Mage Only.
Bright white physical light, empowered by [Lodestar], exploded from ten points in the sky, lancing down like beams of erasing power, carving through red soldiers.
- - - -
Shuu Grey Cloud and her Clan had come in from the Eastern Border hours ago, responding to the main family’s call to arms. They had fought valiantly on the front lines of the defense of Eralis. She had survived a single hour of fighting, but she did not expect to survive a second hour. Her team had been wiped out in the last push. She was alone, fighting on a white road, outside of land that was neither Grey Cloud’s, nor Star Song’s.
Blood dripped down her forehead, fouling her vision in one eye. Her wound had opened up again, and she doubted it would ever close. Her Healer was dead; the Young Master was dead.
The corpse of the Young Master of Grey Cloud burned on the right side of the road, alongside the red warrior who had killed him. She had failed to protect her charge. Oh well.
She would try to honor his memory and power, but she doubted she could kill any of the people in front of her; not anymore. The enemy had worked in concert to mitigate her power, while they also swung around and killed the weakest members of her group, first. She had been the Head Guard of Grey Cloud, but Terror Peaks had made her look as superfluous as tits on a man.
The enemy team was down to 10 out of the original 15 though! Small mercies for whoever came after her; maybe they could take down the rest. Probably not, though.
All of the red bastards were scattered in scouting formations across the land in front of her, but only four of them advanced on Shuu. She was alone; they didn’t need to come at her with their full strength. They were preparing for the next pocket of resistance… Wherever that was.
The entirety of Grey Cloud’s strongest warriors had been as nothing to them, and Shuu had no idea where to retreat to gather more forces, or to join a different defensive line.
Ahh… She would be joining her sister, soon enough. And her brother. This was fine.
She would end at least one of them on her way out of this world. The war wasn’t going to end today, for Terror Peaks was not going to win, so Shuu had to do her part to soften up the remainder. Songli would survive, but she would not be a part of what was to come.
Shuu hefted her sword and shield, and prepared to meet her end.
The red whore who would be Shuu’s death, lifted her spear—
Severing white light came down from the heavens, like a pillar. It touched upon the spear woman before she could react. The plume of light moved on like a hyper child, tracing a quick squiggle across the road, into the clan mountain on one side, before crossing the road and passing through the red-armored warriors on the other side. Where it touched, nothing survived.
Some of the red warriors had fantastic [Reflection]s. Shuu had seen them reflect high-tier [Force Beam]s from her own people, and even the Young Master’s Decay spells.
The enemies’ reflections were as nothing to the light from above.
As the smoke cleared, Shuu barely understood what had happened.
All she saw was a dark line of burned land that started at the spear woman and ended up in the clan mountain on the left. She did not see the warriors of Terror Peaks. They were gone. The spell could not have lasted more than a handful of seconds, but those scant seconds had been enough.
In realization, Shuu whispered, “Ah. A dragon is here.”
And then her mana ticked up past 125; the minimum amount for a Clarity-assisted [Teleport].
Shuu got the fuck out of there.
- - - -
Erick got through three iterations of [Luminous Beam], having Ophiel cast the spell a good thirty times, killing about 250 people over the course of 15 seconds, before there was a response.
Red warriors poured out the clan mountains that they had occupied. Some took to the sky, trying to kill or disperse or control the Ophiels above them. Their various spellworks touched upon full-form [Animadversion]s, and reflected.
Erick’s response was more [Luminous Beams]. He took another three hundred lives in a tenth as many seconds.
The physical power of radioactive light briefly splashed when it touched upon those with stronger reflections, but Erick’s light punched through anyway, carving death out of life. A few people cast mirror spells, which Erick suspected were stronger attempts to mitigate Ophiel.
Those mirror spells helped for half seconds, briefly scattering [Luminous Beam]s wide, but those mirrors broke, too.
In less than five minutes, Erick had killed thousands of soldiers of Terror Peaks.
A portal appeared in the sky above an Ophiel. On the other side was a man with a soul spear in his grip. The pitted metallic weapon was bright red to Ophiel’s [Mana Sight], but it shifted white in the single second it took the man, and three others with reflective mirrors, to step through.
Ophiel turtled underneath [Animadversion]s as the spear struck without moving.
A thousand thousand spear points touched upon Ophiel.
And reflected.
A million phantom lances of force and soul-killing power disco’d across the Alluvial District.
When the attack ended, and the soul spear proved useless, Ophiel retorted with [Luminous Beam]s. A second disco ball briefly appeared in the sky as the white light touched upon the spear-wielder and his protective entourage, but those protections broke, and Erick reaped four more lives, quick as a cast.
With the main threat gone, Erick went back to breaking Terror Peaks’ offensive.
It only took another two minutes of utter domination in order for Songli to regain a strong footing in the Alluvial District. Another minute was spent securing that footing.
When there were no more easy targets and Songli rallied, Erick moved on to the Void Temple.
The white bell buildings in the corners of the temple had been broken, the massive white bells themselves were smashed to the ground. Red blood painted white stone, everywhere. Thousands were dead. Grey robed initiates and white robed Singers were dead in equal numbers. The main cathedral was half rubble.
But the other half was covered in a dense barrier of Song that concentrated here, as a Solid Ward of some sort, while also vibrating out into the rest of Songli.
People were still fighting, absolutely everywhere. There was only one defensive line here, and that was at the bubble in the remaining half of the Void Temple.
A countersong was going on outside of that bubble. Red-robed people surrounded the bubble, keeping a good hundred meters away. They sang, and their song kept the Singers of Songli controlled.
For a brief moment, Erick watched.
It was like seeing toads in a pond, warring with each other based on how strongly they could vibrate the waters around them, except so much more deadly.
The Singers of Songli chorused, sending out a massive ripple of power.
The Singers of Terror Peaks sang back, ripping apart the ripple, and sending their own forward.
The bubbled area of the Void Temple diminished, slightly, before rebounding back to size.
Erick ended the stalemate with beams of light, killing a hundred red-robed people in five seconds.
And then he moved into the city, to where land burned and people died to red-armored warriors.
Occasionally, Erick had to resummon Ophiel because his [Familiar] had spent all of themselves in order to move as fast as they could, to kill as many red army forces as possible. Soon enough, the battle turned, but only after thousands had died.
The battle would have turned anyway, without his interference. Eralis was merely the weakest of the cities of Songli, and it showed in their defenses.
Erick soon discovered that Alaralti and Holorulo had both experienced their own, simultaneous attacks, but they had repelled those forces, and were now blipping into Eralis. Here and there, white-armored archwarriors scythed through Terror Peaks forces with as much aplomb and power as Raidu had displayed last night, when he carved through Hangzi, and had received no wounds in return. Other casters appeared with power similar to Erick, but in vastly different forms.
There was brilliant gold fire that burned only Terror Peaks, and black ice that raced like oozes to swallow enemies whole, and a thousand summoned flying swords that found hidden red soldiers and took their heads.
Erick moved on into the rest of the city, cleaning up what he could, paving the way for the smaller forces of Eralis to survive and push back against Terror Peaks. While he did that, he wondered about war crimes. This right here? This attack from Terror Peaks? It was a war crime, right? Harming civilians like this? And Terror Peaks did it anyway. Was the idea of a ‘war crime’ truly that ephemeral?
Did Nelboor not have the concept of ‘war crime’? No. Impossible. They had to, right?
That hundred versus hundred soldier battle last night? That whole thing had been very formal, as though to prevent this exact situation, to prevent the mass casualty of civilians. That pageantry had seemed custom-made to prevent war crimes like this.
But also...
If the one committing the crime won the war, then who would bring those criminal winners to heel?
No one; that’s who.
And yet, Kaffi and even Ari had both spoken and acted like Terror Peaks would not win a real war; they would lose if they fought openly. Kaffi and Ari had been right. Terror Peaks was already getting routed. Erick had sped up that process and saved tens of thousands of lives in doing so, but Terror Peaks was always going to lose.
So why did they choose to fight?
Why did that woman cause her own death when she attacked his projection, above that city of Terror Peaks?
Something didn’t seem right.
Also, there had been a lie earlier in the day. A lie of ignorance, perhaps, but Ari had said that the soul spear had been designed to kill him. She said that it had been built with a resonance to his own soul, which was why it was so deadly.
But the mana light of the first and second spears both started off red. They attuned to Erick to become white, before attacking. Erick wasn’t sure, but it seemed like those spears were not made for him, specifically. He suspected that they would work against anyone.
Eh.
Terror Peaks had a plan beyond losing the first battle, for sure; they were going to win this Chelation War. No one went to war to lose, right?
Goldie or Queen would know more.